Latest / The Achaemenid Empire: Persia's Golden Age of Power — Fexingo History / Persepolis Fired: The Burning of Persia's Heart
Transcript
- Lucas: So we have talked a lot about the Achaemenids — their roads, their gardens, their coins — but there's one moment that hangs over all of it, and that's the end. The burning of Persepolis. Luna: The fire that destroyed the city? Lucas: Exactly. In 330 BCE, Alexander the Great watched the ceremonial capital of the empire go up in flames. And the strange thing is, even the ancient sources can't agree on why. Some say it was a drunken party gone wrong. Others say it was deliberate revenge for the Persian burning of Athens. And a few suggest it was a calculated political move. Luna: So what's the actual story? Lucas: Well, first we need to remember what Persepolis was. It wasn't a normal capital like Susa or Babylon — it was more of a ritual center. Darius I founded it around 518 BCE, and it was used for the New Year festival, the coronation ceremonies, that sort of thing. It was where the empire showed off its wealth and power to itself. Lucas: The architecture was designed to overwhelm. The Apadana — the great audience hall — could hold thousands. The reliefs show delegations from every corner of the empire bringing tribute. The Gate of All Nations, the Hundred-Column Hall. It was a statement in stone. Luna: So it wasn't really a working capital, more like a stage. Lucas: Yes, exactly. And that's part of why its destruction was so symbolic. You're not just burning a city — you're erasing the image of an empire. But the details are murky. We have to piece it together from Greek and Roman historians, writing decades or even centuries later. Lucas: The main accounts are Arrian, Diodorus, Curtius, and Plutarch — and they give different versions. Diodorus, who follows a tradition that was fairly sympathetic to Alexander, says the fire started during a drunken revel with the courtesan Thais — she supposedly urged Alexander to burn the palace as payback for Xerxes burning Athens. Curtius has a similar story, with Thais as the instigator. Luna: So it was a drinking game gone wrong? Lucas: That's the popular story, but Arrian, who's usually considered the most reliable, doesn't mention Thais at all. He says Alexander destroyed the palace in a fit of rage, deliberately, as a punishment. And Plutarch, who wrote a biography of Alexander, says Alexander regretted it immediately and wished he could take it back. Lucas: So we have three different motives: accident, revenge, and calculated policy. And modern historians still argue about which is closest to the truth. Luna: Which do you lean towards? Lucas: I think the calculated policy angle is underrated. Because consider the context. Alexander had just captured Persepolis after a hard campaign — he'd fought through the Persian Gates, a narrow pass where a small force of Persians held him off for over a month. He was frustrated. But more than that, he needed to send a message to the rest of Persia: the old order is over. Burning the ceremonial heart of the empire was a way to symbolize that the Achaemenid dynasty was finished. Lucas: And there's another practical angle. The city held a massive treasury — gold and silver worth billions in modern terms. Alexander needed that money to pay his troops and fund his continued campaign. By burning the palaces, he was also destroying the symbols of the old royal authority, making it harder for anyone to rally around them. Luna: So the fire wasn't just emotional — it was strategic. Lucas: Right. And actually, the archaeological evidence is interesting. The fire damage at Persepolis is real — you can still see soot on the walls of the Apadana. But it seems to have been concentrated in the ceremonial buildings, not the whole city. The residential areas and the treasury were mostly spared. That doesn't sound like a drunken rampage — it sounds like a targeted act. Lucas: And the Persepolis Fortification Tablets — thousands of clay tablets that recorded the daily administration of the empire — were found in the treasury, which survived. That suggests they weren't trying to destroy everything, just the symbols of monarchy. Luna: Huh. So the fire was like a political statement. Lucas: Exactly. And that's a modern interpretation, but it's been gaining traction. For a long time people just bought the Thais story because it was dramatic and made Alexander look more human. But the more we look at the evidence, the more the deliberate, strategic interpretation makes sense. Lucas: Before we go deeper into the aftermath, there's something I want to mention about how this show gets made. We keep this podcast ad-free, and that's thanks to a small group of listeners who chip in a few bucks a month through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's not a profit thing — it's literally what lets us spend the time on research and production. So if you've been getting something out of these episodes, that's the place to help keep it going. Luna: Yeah, it's a pretty simple setup. And we really do appreciate everyone who's contributed — it keeps the lights on, so to speak. Lucas: Anyway, back to the fire. After the burning, Alexander stayed in Persepolis for a few months — which is a bit odd if you're trying to destroy the place. He actually used it as a base, and the city continued to function for a while. The fire didn't erase it from the map; it just became a ghost of its former self. Lucas: And then, of course, there's the question of Alexander's so-called regret. Plutarch tells us he was so upset the next morning that he wished he could undo it. But that might be a later romanticization — the idea that even the great conqueror realized he'd gone too far. It makes for a better story. Luna: So did the Persians themselves see it that way? As a tragedy? Lucas: We don't have any Persian accounts of the event. The Achaemenids didn't leave us a history of their own fall. All we have are Greek and Roman sources, and they're all written by the conquerors or their admirers. So we're always seeing it through a Greek lens. Lucas: But the city wasn't completely forgotten. It remained a landmark for centuries after. Travelers passed by and noted the ruins. In the Islamic period, the site was known as Takht-e Jamshid — the throne of Jamshid, a legendary Persian king. It became a symbol of lost grandeur. Luna: So it's kind of ironic that the fire preserved it in memory. Lucas: In a way, yes. The burning made Persepolis eternally famous. If Alexander hadn't torched it, we might only know it from inscriptions. Instead, it's become one of the most iconic images of ancient Persia — and a reminder of how empires rise and fall. Lucas: There's also a modern controversy about whether the fire was even deliberate. Some have pointed out that ancient buildings were full of flammable materials — tapestries, cedar beams, oil lamps — and accidents were common. But the fact that the fire seems selective, and that Alexander had a clear motive, makes that less likely. Luna: So in the end, we can't know for sure. Lucas: No, and we should be comfortable with that. But what we can say is that the destruction of Persepolis marked a definitive end — the Achaemenid Empire, which had ruled for over two centuries, was truly finished. Alexander went on to claim the title of King of Kings, but he never really secured the loyalty of the Persian heartland. Within a generation, his own empire dissolved. Lucas: It makes you think about how we remember history. The fire at Persepolis was a single event, but we've been arguing about it for over two thousand years. And the questions we ask — was it justified? was it a mistake? — say as much about us as they do about Alexander. Luna: That's a good note to end on. Lucas: So next time we look at the Achaemenids, we'll be moving past the fall — maybe into the Hellenistic period, how Persian culture survived under Greek rule. That's a whole other story.