Lost History – Rome’s ambivalence towards Alexander the Great

After conquering much of the known world, Alexander the Great died in Babylon in 332BC at the spritely age of thirty-two. For almost forty years, his generals waged a world war over the inheritance of the Macedonian Empire. Through these world-changing and era-defining events, Alexander’s incomparable legacy gained a near-religious prominence, a propaganda-propelled mythos that adorned a myriad of emerging cultures. Being the archetypal figurehead of the Hellenic civilisation, Alexander inevitably left a deep and indelible impression on the greatest inheritor of attic sophistication, Rome.

After Alexander, Rome was the next consummate superpower of ancient times. Drawing inspiration from their Greek and Macedonian role models, they claimed to be the successor state to the inspiring monarch, Megas Alexandros. But their perception of the divine youth was not simply one of veneration. They harboured mixed feelings towards Macedonia’s finest leader.

After Alexander died, the possession of his body became an important political asset. His generals – known as the Diadochi – argued about where their chief’s remains ought to be interred. Babylon had become his new capital, but as a king of Macedonia, some asserted that he ought to rest alongside his illustrious ancestors, whilst others recalled their King’s request to be buried in Memphis, Egypt.

Finally, it was agreed that he should be taken back to Macedonia, but on the road, Ptolemy Soter, a close friend and favoured commander of Alexander, hijacked the coffin from its lavish escort, diverting its course to the city of Alexandria. There it lay for centuries and was visited by some of the most powerful figures at the time, including at least six caesars who came to pay homage to the bones of their hero.

When Julius Caesar was thirty-three, he stood before a statue of Alexander in Spain and began to weep. His friend asked why the sight of Alexander brought Caesar to tears. The future consul famously replied that Alexander had conquered the world by his [Caesar’s] age, while he was merely a lowly quaestor of Hispania. When he fought the civil war to ensure his elevation to supreme power in Rome, Caesar visited the tomb of Alexander. He was the first of a long line of Roman leaders to do so.

Augustus came to pay his respects some years later and accidentally tapped off the dead King’s nose while examining the relic. When asked if he would like to view the crypt of the Ptolemaic dynasty that stood adjacent to Alexander’s, he replied, “I came to see a king, not a collection of corpses,” such was the reverence he felt towards the man who mastered the continent of Asia in the meanest period imaginable.

It is easy to see why the Romans held Alexander in such high esteem. Boasting an unbeaten military record, it was inevitable that the Romans would idealise Alexander as the perfect commander. However, many Roman statesmen and writers from the Republican era discerned plenty to detest in the conduct of the King. To them, he represented a dangerous tendency towards autocratic tyranny.

Unlike modern readers, who might squirm at the thought of all those innocent lives lost as a result of his insatiable appetite to conquer, the Roman ethic engendered little empathy for the subjugation of weak peoples. It was the political hierarchy of the Macedonian Empire that troubled Republican thinkers, not the blood Alexander spilt.

Alexander’s notorious alcoholism also emphasised his dictatorial and gratuitously destructive proclivities. When he reached the city of Persepolis, the most sacred city in the Persian Empire, Alexander partied for several days straight before drunkenly torching the polis to ashes. Roman Republicans found the incineration of a hallowed settlement at the behest of an intoxicated man a natural outcome of despotic government.

Nonetheless, Alexander’s reputation influenced the conduct of many of the most important Roman emperors, marshals and citizens, and his story was cherished as a parable of the human capacity for perfection. To some, his hubris cautioned Romans against the inescapable intoxication of ultimate power and to others, his biography was a remarkable example of earthly excellence. In any case, his tale remains a standard few have ever matched, and arguably none have ever surpassed.