The Parthian Way

 

Marcus Licinius Crassus

As I’ve followed the news over the past several months, I’ve found myself thinking about an interesting, and increasingly familiar, historical figure: Marcus Licinius Crassus.  During his lifetime, he became the wealthiest man in the Roman Republic, but his narcissistic ambitions led to a calamitous end.

The Roman Republic itself was in a very precarious position at that time (the first century B.C.), as it had become divided between two bitterly opposed factions.  Whenever one of these factions prevailed over the other, and took control of the government, it would use its political power to retaliate against prominent members of the other faction: imprisoning them, confiscating their property, or worse.  Crassus had accumulated his riches during these turbulent times in part through real estate speculation, but also through more nefarious ways.   And yet, this vast wealth in his possession still left him unsatisfied.  He wanted the kind of power that could only be realized by holding high political office.

Crassus had been elected praetor – the second-highest political office in Rome – in 73 B.C. and, while holding that office, set about making a name for himself by waging war against internal “enemies”: slaves engaged in a widespread rebellion (the famous revolt led by Spartacus).  After suppressing the rebellion, he showed no mercy to the captured slaves, but his victory led to his first successful election to the consulship – Rome’s highest political office.

But Crassus’s desire for fame and glory was far from satisfied.  He realized that to secure his reputation and his legacy, he needed to lead a successful war against a foreign adversary.  A year after he was elected to the consulship for a second time, he set out to do exactly that.  His intended target was the Parthian Empire, which was centered in present-day Iran.  The Parthians were no friends to Rome, and each power had engaged in activities that harassed the other, but the Roman Republic eclipsed the Parthian Empire in military might.  And Parthia was contending with internal power struggles that had produced much civil strife.  Crassus anticipated that war with Parthia would lead to an easy victory, but one which would still bring him high honors.

In 55 BC, Crassus assembled an army of about 40,000 troops and set out for Parthia.  The Parthians were naturally perplexed at the appearance of this immense army at their borders, as nothing had happened which would have precipitated a war with the Romans.  They sent envoys to Crassus, to inquire about his presence, and the question was framed in a very interesting way: He was asked if this army had been sent by the Roman people, which would have been a violation of the treaty then in effect between the two powers, or if, instead, this attack had been organized by Crassus for his own private gain, and against the general wishes of the Roman people.  If the latter was the case, the envoys, said, then the Parthians would be willing to take pity on Crassus because of his old age.  Crassus’s reply was boastful and arrogant, and the Parthians then prepared for war.

The initial reports received from Roman scouts were very encouraging.  They said that the land before them appeared to be destitute of men, but that there were many wheel tracks in the area, suggesting that any defenders who had been there had fled from the advancing army.  But rather than conduct a careful advance, close to the river, where he could protect his army from ambush and continue to be well supplied by water transports, Crassus now felt emboldened to lead his troops directly into the Parthian desert, with the intent of conducting a sort of shock and awe frontal assault that would quickly overwhelm and subdue the enemy.  He rushed his men forward until the enemy was sighted, and his brash over-confidence only grew when they encountered only a small number of enemy soldiers.  But this was a ruse, orchestrated by the Parthian general, Surena, who had hidden his main force just out of sight.  Their sudden appearance initially caused a general panic among Crassus’s troops, but order eventually was restored, and the Roman army, which outnumbered that of the Parthians by 4-to-1, proceeded to engage the enemy in battle. 

The Romans quickly discovered, however, that their numerical superiority did not give them the edge in battle that they had hoped for.  The Parthians were much more accustomed to desert warfare, and their lightning cavalry easily outmaneuvered the invaders, who often had to resort to a defensive formation.  The Parthian warriors were equipped with large, powerful bows, and arrows that some historians have claimed could even pierce armor.  In any case, it was easy for the archers to use them to deadly effect, as the Roman army often fought in close quarters, particularly when in defensive formations.  And whenever the Romans did attempt to engage in more aggressive and mobile tactics, the Parthians fell back upon their most effective strategy, which was to feign retreat, drawing the invaders deeper into unfamiliar territory.  Even when the Parthian cavalry was pretending to flee on horseback, the skillful riders would wheel about on their horses, and send a deadly flurry of arrows back at their pursuers, wounding and killing many.  The one desperate hope retained by Crassus and his army was that the Parthians would simply run out of arrows, and thereby lose their advantage.  But unlike the Roman army, which had advanced well beyond its supply lines, the Parthians were well supplied, and had an inexhaustible store of arrows.  They were, after all, fighting within their own homeland.  And because they were fighting in familiar terrain, they could continually harass the invading Roman army, by striking when the time and the circumstances were in their favor, and then retreating from sight before the Romans could organize an effective counterattack. 

Even as Crassus witnessed the ongoing decimation of his troops, he remained steadfast in trying to carry on the invasion, until a part of his army lost a decisive battle (in which his own son was killed).  Now his only goal was to get out of Parthia, by any means necessary, including the abandonment of his wounded and dying soldiers.  But the hasty retreat was also a disorganized one, and cost the lives of even more Roman soldiers as the Parthians pursued them.  Surena now sent a message to Crassus, offering a truce, but the terms of the treaty were unfavorable to the Romans, with its most attractive provision being that Crassus and his surviving troops would be allowed to leave Parthia alive.  Even in these pathetic circumstances, Crassus still resisted agreeing to such a treaty, until his own troops threatened mutiny unless he did.

But the surrender did not prevent Crassus’s death.  Accounts of how he died differ, with one version attributing it to a skirmish that occurred during the peace negotiations, while another claimed that he was killed by one of his own officers, who could not accept the humiliating spectacle of such a high-ranking Roman personally surrendering to an inferior power.  And even after his death, Crassus was subjected to further humiliation.  A popular legend is that the Parthians poured molten gold down his throat, in mockery of his greed.  And according to the Greek historian Plutarch, his severed head was used as a theater prop in a play performed in the court of the Parthian king.

Crassus’s ill-fated campaign is remembered as one of the worst military disasters in Roman history.  And it was not just the staggering military loss, but the repercussions of this loss that proved to be devasting in their impact.  Rome’s prestige was seriously damaged, the Parthians (and Rome’s other enemies) were emboldened to engage in other acts of aggression hostile to Roman interests, and the Roman Republic itself, which was already under siege because of the bitter factionalism that existed within it, became an indirect casualty of the war.  In the wake of Crassus’s death, two ambitious and powerful rivals remained who now contended with each other for domination of Rome.  When one of them, Julius Caesar, defeated the other, Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, or Pompey as he is now remembered, he consolidated his power in Rome, until in 44 BC he felt emboldened to assume the title of dictator for life.  Even his assassination by the Roman senate could not prevent the final fall of the Roman Republic: after two bloody civil wars that ensued, his grand-nephew, Octavian, became Augustus, the first in a long line of Roman emperors.

And what exactly was the Parthian strategy, that had so effectively taken down a massive Roman army which had greatly outnumbered the defenders?  It was to draw an overconfident opponent into locations and circumstances where that opponent could not rely on its conventional strategies, and resources.  Often, as the Parthians did, this is done through feigned (or even genuine) retreat, and at times it can simply be done by providing little or no initial resistance at all, which also entices the invading army into a reckless advance, and an overextension of its supply lines.  When this initial tactic is executed successfully, then the defender can counter-attack at the times and circumstances that work most in its favor, and usually retreat before the invader can engage it in a full-blown battle.  As the attacker grows increasingly frustrated at its failure to deliver a decisive, winning blow, its own strategy and tactics become less disciplined, more disorganized, and even chaotic, and ultimately it succumbs to desperation – often a desperation simply to extricate itself from a losing situation.  This is really the same strategy employed in the martial arts, particularly judo, where the larger size and forward momentum of a powerful, advancing attacker is used again him, by deploying some artful moves to send that attacker tumbling onto the ground.  It also reminds me of a funny scene in the Monty Python movie, The Life of Brian, where a heavily-armored Roman gladiator is chasing a half-naked prisoner with the intent to execute him.  The gladiator, soon exhausted by a fruitless pursuit against his much more lightly-clothed target, keels over and succumbs to a heart attack, leaving the prisoner to take a victory lap around the arena.

The Parthians may not have invented this strategy, but it is one that has been successfully executed many times in the two thousand years since the demise of Crassus and his army.  It worked for the Russians in 1812 when Napoleon’s armies invaded, and again when the Nazis invaded in 1941.  The Afghans, in turn, used it to eventually cripple a Russian invasion that began in 1979.  The strategy played a large role in America’s loss in the Vietnam war.  And even in the American Revolutionary War, it could be argued that General Washington mainly relied on a strategy like this, as he spent much of the war leading his troops in organized retreats, until he could find the optimal time and circumstance, along with the appearance of a powerful ally, to finally win a decisive victory against the British troops.

As the reader has probably already surmised, I am seeing a lot of parallels between President Trump’s conflict with the Iranians and Crassus’s ill-fated invasion of Parthia.  Of course, there are some critical differences.  President Trump will never have to suffer the ultimate fate of Crassus.  Fortunately our commander-in-chief, unlike the top Roman political leaders – the consuls and proconsuls – is not expected to lead his soldiers in person on the battlefield.  And the present-day conflict with Iran is fought in an entirely different manner than the one fought there over 2,000 years ago: it is more of a “proxy” war, with the heavy use of drones and long-range high-precision missiles.  In the battle with the Parthians, about half of Crassus’s army of 40,000 was killed, and another 10,000 captured.  But at the time of this writing, a total of 13 U.S. servicemen have lost their lives (and 400-500 have been wounded) in the conflict with Iran.  Of course, in such a misguided war, that is 13 lives too many.  And 1,700 to 3,600 Iranian civilians – the very people for whom this war was allegedly initiated to liberate – have been killed, along with 4,000 civilians in neighboring countries.  But the most exacting cost of the current war has been in other areas: such as $5 billion in U.S. military equipment losses, which has depleted its weapons stockpile, and the higher prices paid by consumers across the world because of the escalation in oil costs.  The main victims in the Parthian war were Roman soldiers, but we have all become victims – to one extent or another – as a result of the war with Iran.  A more intangible, but still very heavy, cost has been the loss of American prestige and credibility.  Like the Parthians with Crassus, the Iranians have engaged in a sort of war of attrition, but in the modern version, the main casualty has been Trump’s reputation, as the Iranians repeatedly lure him into believing that they are willing to enter into a treaty and then suddenly negate the expectation by engaging in fresh acts of aggression.  This repeated push-pull has produced a sadly comedic result, as Trump regularly oscillates between bluster, proudly announcing that an imminent treaty is in the works greatly favorable to American interests, and fluster, after hopes of the treaty dissolve, leaving Trump to angrily unleash a fresh wave of threats of mass retaliation.

To be sure, a decisive victory over Iran which would have unseated its oppressive leadership of religious fanatics would have been welcomed by Americans and their allies as a good thing.  But the absence of that victory has created parameters for negotiation which are absurdly untenable.  In essence, it amounts to the U.S. saying this to Iran: “We promise never to engage in an unprovoked attack against your country, and we promise never to assassinate any of your political or military leaders, if you promise not to develop the one weapon that would effectively deter us from ever doing such things (again).”  It’s hard to imagine anyone with a even shred of common sense to accept such a proposal on its face.  And so our president, in classic Trumpian fashion, has tried – unsuccessfully, so far – to make the deal more palatable by including large monetary inducements to accept the offer.  The “art of the deal” was supposed to be the one special skill that he was especially proud of.  But with the Iranian debacle, he has demonstrated to the world his complete ineptitude as a negotiator, something which had already been in evidence after repeated rounds of fruitless negotiations with Vladimir Putin to end the Ukrainian war.

Just as the Parthian victory emboldened Rome’s other rivals and enemies to engage in bolder acts of aggression, the low comedy involving Trump and Iran may invite other leaders hostile to America to see if they can find opportunities for gain by playing the “bluster/fluster” game: engaging in acts of harassment followed by “negotiations”.  Chairman Xi, the leader of America’s most powerful rival, has chosen to stay out of the fray.  He believes that America is on an inexorable path to decline, and that he only needs to bide his time until China supplants America as the world’s dominant superpower.  But after witnessing the Iran debacle, even he might be unable to resist the temptation to stir up conflict and enjoy the fun of a tussle with Trump.

We in America should at least consider ourselves fortunate that when Trump leaves office, there does not appear to be a modern counterpart to Julius Caesar – at least at this time – who is waiting in the wings, eager to succeed him and then finish the process that he has started of dismantling American democracy.  However, Trump’s time in office has revealed some very disturbing things, such as how easily politicians who had once been harsh critics of his were so easily cowed into submission after he was elected, and how quickly many of the safeguards to democracy that we depend upon, such as the court system, were compromised.  If there is not a Julius Caesar waiting in the wings now, it is easy to imagine how a ruthlessly ambitious and unprincipled person could be tempted to try to become one.

The unprovoked attack on Iran, which Donald Trump (proudly) compared to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, having occurred – as happened with Iran – at a time when the invaded party believed it was undergoing productive negotiations with the invader, is just another in a string of blows to America’s credibility as a country committed to upholding the rule of law and a set of higher principles with regard to the conduct of nations.  Even the despots who led Japan during the Pearl Harbor attack did not compound this act of aggression by attempting to assassinate American political or military leaders.  In 2003, the second Iraqi war was initiated as a result of bogus claims by the Bush administration that Iraq was harboring weapons of mass destruction.  And during the early phases of that war, the U.S. military and CIA engaged in acts of torture (or “advanced interrogation techniques”, as they were called) against prisoners.  On top of all of this, America continues to have the world’s largest prison population, and ranks 5^th (behind El Salvador, Cuba, Rwanda, and Turkmenistan) in its incarceration rate.  In its rivalry with China for global dominance, the U.S. has traditionally portrayed itself as the “good” power, committed to high principles and civil rights, while China is the “evil” power, operating outside of any moral compass whatsoever.  But the international conduct of the U.S. over the past quarter century, as well as its domestic conduct in policing and incarceration polices – particularly during Republican administrations – has made it increasingly difficult to make any meaningful distinction between the two rival superpowers. 

This may all sound very pessimistic – even unpatriotic, given that this piece is being published on the 250^th anniversary of America’s Declaration of Independence – but it reflects real concerns that I have about the dangers which my country is currently facing: threats to its democratic institutions, and actions which are undermining its reputation – both as a military power and as an upholder and champion of the mores and standards that sustain an enlightened civilization – among the nations of the world.  So I will interject some positive remarks that enable me to keep my hopes up about our future.

First, I do believe that Iran’s days are numbered, and that its bargaining power is being steadily eroded.  Its most powerful bargaining chip has been its control over the Strait of Hormuz, but major oil-producing and oil-consuming nations are both already finding or developing ways to effectively bypass this obstacle.  And there are signs that Iran’s leadership is not unified, and not as secure in its maintenance of power as it endeavors to make the rest of the world believe.  There is an interesting parallel here with the Parthian war, because Surena, the brilliant general who outfought the Romans, was rewarded for his military genius by being executed, under orders of the jealous and insecure Parthian king, Orodes.

And second, I believe that rumors of America’s irremediable demise are greatly exaggerated.  I am currently reading a book titled The Beginning Comes After the End: Notes on a World of Change, by Rebecca Solnit, and in it, she makes the observation that we Americans tend to be pessimistic because we have very short-term memories.  If we take the long-view, our country has been on a trajectory of great social progress.  In a footnote, she highlights some significant milestones of inclusivity, all of which occurred within the past 60 years:

The first Black man on the Supreme Court came in 1967; the first woman in 1981, and the first Black woman in 2022.  The first Black man to hold a cabinet position in a US administration was in 1966; the first Black woman in 1977.  The first Black CEO of a Fortune 500 company came in 1987; the first Black woman to hold such a position only in 2009.

The United States of today is a significantly different nation, in terms of more enlightened views and attitudes regarding race, religion, gender, and gender-preference, than it was even fifty years ago, during America’s bicentennial celebration.  And if we draw comparisons to earlier times, the difference is more stark: as gone are the racially segregated schools, water fountains, and bathrooms, and gone is the tolerance for openly hostile behavior to minorities of any stripe.  We are more environmentally-conscious, and more committed to things like workplace and product safety.  Solnit says that if we take that long view, we observe that we are a nation that has progressively been getting better, along many dimensions, and that only when we look at recent history, and particularly if we happen to be living during those occasional periods of social backlash, do we find ourselves tempted to adopt a more pessimistic frame of mind.

And third, that long view of American history introduces another cause of optimism, although perhaps this one requires a bit more faith.  It is that at every period of time when America has faced a severe existential crisis, a truly great leader has emerged who has inspired and enabled America’s citizens to face it, and to overcome it, such as George Washington in the Revolutionary War, Abraham Lincoln in the Civil War, and Franklin D. Roosevelt in the Great Depression and World War II.  It is dangerous to rest one’s hopes on the arrival of a hero, but in America, at least, the most dire circumstances have always succeeded in providing one.

At the moment, however, we are still enmeshed in that conflict with Iran, which has provided a master class to other countries on how to deal with a great power that is using that power recklessly:  Yield to their initial assaults, entice them to invest more fully in the endeavor to conquer or crush their enemy until their resources (and patience) are strained, and then harass them with skillfully orchestrated counter-attacks.  Victory is assured once the invader’s primary goal shifts from victory to an earnest desire to extricate itself from an unwinnable war.  It is a strategy that has served many nations and minor powers well, for at least 2,000 years.  It is the Parthian Way.