Dukšiš: Redefining Achaemenid Women

Introduction

In the modern pursuit of understanding Eastern empires and their administrative systems, the word “harem,” is frequently used. It is a term which, traditionally, invokes an image of a closed palace where the king, or the Sultan, is surrounded by women reduced to mere objects for his sexual pleasure. But was this really the case in the ancient Achaemenid Empire?

Our limited primary sources suggest a deeper-rooted significance in Achaemenid society. Wives, for one, appeared to have been allowed to own their own property and manage their own wealth. Later Greek sources seem to echo this belief, depicting certain queens as ferocious machines of their own. Atossa, the daughter of Cyrus the Great and wife of Darius I, will serve as a case study for the political prowess that was possibly available to royal women.[1] From this evidence, it is clear that the simplification and reduction of royal women to a “harem” is oversimplified.

Of course, this objection is not a new one. Historian Mary Brosius, for one, simply avoids any mention of this inner circle, instead defining the individual roles of each woman.[2] Another historian, Llewellyn-Jones, in his examination of royal Achaemenid women, proposes a more specific definition of the word “harem.”[3] However, this paper seeks to turn away from both tropes entirely. It is important to both face the challenges of an accurate description, and to find an adequate solution. Consequently, the inner circle of women around the queen will be named as “dukšiš,” the Elamite term for princess in this paper.[4] This analytical framework allows us to investigate the reality of royal women without any other preconceived connotation presented by the word “harem.” By examining the cultural norms and practices of royal women in the empire, and outlining the significance of queenship to the administration, this more accurate portrayal of Achaemenid noblewomen can be painted.

The challenge with assuming such a narrative lies in the lack of primary sources. Since our main source are Greek authors, our understanding of the Achaemenid Empire is shaped largely by foreign interpretations. However, through closer examination of the evidence, nonetheless, an image of political prowess among the royal women reveals itself .

Therefore the objective of this paper is twofold: first, it will seek to redefine the inner-circle of royal women in a more accurate light with precise terminology. Second, it will argue for the significant sphere of influence that Achaemenid queens and wives had.

Literature Review

The Persepolis fortification contains one of the richest collections of primary sources that document Achaemenid history, and offers a window to explore the Persian experience from their point of view. Unfortunately, a survey reveals that royal women in particular were largely absent from these records.[5] Among the few surviving, however, was a seal belonging to one of the favorite wives of Darius I,[6] Irtašduna, which gives us some insight into the economic independence of royal wives. Most of what else we know came in the form of short letters or tablets.

As with much of ancient Persian history, due to this lack of primary evidence, we frequently find ourselves relying on Greek authors such as Herodotus or Plutarch.[7] These authors offer insight into the roles and privileges of royal women. For example, Plutarch’s Moralia, for example, adds context to a royal wife’s duty. Further authors such as Athaenus help us construct the roles of women in relation to each other. Herodotus, in turn, presents us with stories and examples of fierce warrior queens.

However, these Greek authors are far from unbiased. Greek xenophobia tainted many of what they wrote. As will be described in the following sections, the repeated portrayal of ferocious royal women may have been highlighted by this biased view of a foreign queen. Furthermore, the histories recorded by Herodotus during his travels are near impossible to corroborate.[8]

The interpretation of these sources, due to these biases, is therefore widely divided. Mary Brosius, one of the leading historians on investigating the structure of royal women in the empire, proposes some element of truth to be assumed from the Greeks, but not all. Llewellyn-Jones, another contemporary who focuses on Achaemenid imperial structures, takes a more gracious angle. Although raising this point of contention, he does not provide any counterevidence against the statement of the Greeks. Finally, Madreiter and Schnegg adopt an entirely different view, and accept all the Greek historians as fact.[9]

The reception of Greek authorship is not the main focus of this paper, but it does raise the question of how much of what we know about Achaemenid women is reliable. In the pursuit of a more accurate understanding of Achaemenid women, this paper will adopt a quizzical approach to Greek sources. There is merit in examining foreign perception, but inconsistencies with near-eastern sources must also be pointed out.

Who were the Ancient Achaemenid Women?

Before delving deeper into the significance of Achaemenid royal women within the empire, it is worth sketching out the norms of 559 BCE Persia. The Persian “court” can be defined in four ways: the royal ceremonial location; the royal residence, with its private rooms, bureaucratic quarters, and public courtyards; the larger political, military, economic structure around the monarch; and finally, the circle of elite peoples and servants around the king.[10] The inner court, where this paper will mainly focus, consists of both rooms and individuals, such as ministers or who routinely worked around the king.[11] Wives, prostitutes, children, siblings, and others who were under the king’s immediate protection made up the royal dukšiš, which was a part of the inner court.[12]

This structure defined the ability of each to act or to involve themselves in official business.[13] Within the hierarchy, the King’s Mother was the highest-ranked.[14] Amestris, for example, is alleged to have used her role as King’s Mother during her son Artaxerxes I’s rule to avenge the death of her son Achaemenes.[15] The king also had multiple wives, out of whom the King’s Wife[16] was also at the top of this hierarchy, as she was defined as the future King’s Mother. 

The dukšiš was also made up of other female companions. While this paper is explicitly focused on the role of wives within the empire, it is important to recognize the other entities around the king. Among them are female companions,[17] who some historians such as Llewellyn-Jones refers to as concubines.[18] Many of these concubines were “regularly acquired as war booty or were captured from rebellious subjects.”[19] They were certainly not regarded with the same honor of royal wives, and concubines’ children were regarded as inferior to that of a wife.[20] According to Athaeneus, wives are treated with a great amount of respect by the concubines, “the queen is treated with respect by the concubines; in fact, they have to do obeisance before her.”[21] This clear difference in status between wife and concubine mark the uniqueness of the wife’s role. It should be noted, however, that despite this portrayal of their inferiority in the context of the dukšiš, concubines were completely different from common courtesans, prostitutes, or mistresses.[22]

While wives are commonly perceived as serving the king for only sexual pleasure, evidence suggests otherwise. Plutarch, in his Moralia states,

“When the kings want to divert themselves and indulge in drinking, they send [their wives] away and have music-girls and concubines come. And they are quite right to do so, as, in this way, they do not involve their wedded wives in their debaucheries and drunkenness.”[23]

This description of a meal paints a clear picture where wives are far from responsible for solely the pleasure of the king. In fact, they were not used at all as objects for the king’s drunken advances. Contrary to the objectification of women that the original “harem” offered, fragments of evidence like this reveal a larger picture of respect.

In addition to these supposed rights of women within the dukšiš, we also have evidence for their capacity to wield wealth and property. For this, we can turn to Irtašduna, the favorite wife of Darius I, and her seal. Based on her sealing, PF 38, her seal is quite large, and is one of the most elaborate within the collection of seal designs,[24] indicating fine craftsmanship. We can try and unravel a better understanding of the scope of her wealth through analysis of the glyptic evidence. Her seal presents imagery involving complex, symmetric shapes, and includes details that are not found on other Neo-Assyrian seals. For example, the detailing on the hero’s garment is unique, perhaps indicating Irtašduna’s unparalleled identity. Furthermore, a large amount of symbols in the terminal fields of seals, as is the case here, is rare. Some of these emblems depict foreign imagery – such as the hypothetical nude figure between the man and the creature on the right, which may have been an Egyptianizing element of infant Horus. The figure, perhaps female, surrounded by a nimbus is also commonly associated with Ištar in Assyria, with Anahita in Iran. The existence of multiple cross-cultural motifs suggest that Irtašduna may have been able to actively converse with other nations. This sealing continued to be found across 11 tablets, signifying its durability. 

An impressed image of the seal.[25]

By further examining the tablets on which this sealing was found, we can find traces of her words. PF 1835, for example, was a letter by Irtašduna herself to her friend Datukka. 

“Tell Datukka, (the woman) Irtašduna spoke as follows:

10(?) marris [26] (of) wine (is) to be issued to Ankama from my estate at Mirandu. Utar (is) its hirakurra [27].”[28]

This text is rich with evidence: it explicitly details the possibility for a wife to own estate, a fraction of her existing wealth. This, paired with the extensive use of the seal, reveals an image of a royal wife holding onto an expensive piece made up of likely semi-precious stone, while owning an estate. Although Irtašduna is one of our only direct case-studies in royal women, the possibility for her to own property suggests broader autonomy among Achaemenid royal women.

What was the importance of marriage?

The main argument for “dukšiš” instead of “harem” lies in the importance of royal women to the empire itself. While the section above has proven that wives were not used as mere objects for the king’s pleasure, this section highlights the significance of women to the administration itself. Through marriages, wives were able to link significant bridges for the peace and prosperity of the empire. 

One such kind were diplomatic marriages. Treaties, for example, were often confirmed by marriages between foreign powers.[29] Brosius references several examples in the early empire to demonstrate the continuity of these diplomatic marriage alliances. “The implication that the custom of diplomatic marriage continued in the early Persian period is made by Ktesias’ claim that Kyros married the daughter of Astyages after his victory over the Median king, and is equally apparent in Herodotos’ statement that Kambyses II wanted to marry the daughter of Amasis of Egypt,” Brosius states.[30] Indeed, the predisposition of Achaemenid kings to want to wed foreigners imply a possible desire to make deeper connections across borders. It also sets a precedence to the possible stability such an alliance may bring, all with her marriage. Thus the stage for diplomatic stability was set.

The second type of marriages were dynastic, and sought to join clans together. Cyrus II, for example, had married Kassandane, the daughter of Pharnaspes, a member of the Achaimenid clan.[31] This union would be intertwined with that of Darius I. Over the reign of the three kings, the two families continuously sought to strengthen their bond as Darius’s sister married his cousin, and his cousin’s sister married Cambyses II and then Bardiya.[32] Through this list of examples of kings marrying other clans, the trend of marriage as a tool for regional stability is evident.

We have no evidence that any of these marriages were arranged by the wife’s own volition.[33] It is painfully obvious that, while these royal women were important, they were still pawns in the larger picture. However, their actions during these marriages within the empire may provide an alternative lens to interpreting their role in the administration.

What was the importance of women within the empire?

In addition to the importance that women brought with their marriage, it is important to also realize their own contribution to the function of the empire as well. 

When discussing examples of prowess in relations to inheritance struggles, many here reference Atossa, a powerful wife of Cambyses. I, however, turn to Naqi’a, a queen from the Neo-Assyrian period, around a century earlier than Atossa. Fink states that Naqi’a had great influence in installing her son, Esarhaddon as the next king. “This was a truly exceptional case, as Esarhaddon was one of Sennacherib’s [34] younger sons and most probably, even as a young man, suffered from an illness that would later kill him,” Fink argues.[35] Naqi’a’s legacy is, in many ways, comparable to that of Atossa, the wife of Darius I, who managed to ensure that her son Xerxes would become the heir to the throne. And that of Parysatis, who allegedly supported her son’s rebellion against the king, Artaxerxes II.[36] Again, and again, the repeated motif of royal wives standing by the sides of their son’s rise to power or actively orchestrating this rise to power appears.

Another popular image of ancient royal women also rose: a queen driven by vengeance. Amestris, the wife of Xerxes, is one of the prime examples of this. The King’s Mother in the court of Artaxerxes I, Amestris is said to have caused the death of Apollonides of Cos, a Greek doctor, for offending her daughter.[37] Furthermore, she allegedly held enough political capital to exact her revenge on the family of Xerxes’ brother Masistes. The motivation behind this supposed act of vengeance was due to an act of disrespect being shown to a gift given to the king by Amestris.[38] In her rage, she ordered the mutilation of Masistes’ wife in a manner used for rebels.[39] Parysatis, another queen, is also said to have obtained revenge for her son Cyrus with the death of a Carion, Mithridates, of the eunuch Masabates, and of the satrap Tissaphernes.[40] Because Stateira, a wife of the king, interfered with her political efforts to save those who were loyal to Cyrus, Parysatis killed her.[41] Noblewomen were also seen as selfish. Atossa was said to have instigated Darius I to undertake the campaign against Greece in order to obtain foreign slaves.[42] Thus was the power of royal women: a bringer of unity with her marriage, while simultaneously bloodthirsty for vengeance and her own self-interest.

But on the flip side this immense power of death was the power to save lives. Amestris, for example, was said to have intervened on behalf of her son-in-law to save him from a beheading.[43] Teaspes, the aunt of Xerxes I, is also noted to have begged for her son’s life to be spared after he reportedly violated the daughter of Zopyros.[44] This is, of course, not to claim that the power of wives and those in the dukšiš was infinite. Parysatis, for one, was sentenced to exile after executing the wife of Atraxerxes.[45] These narratives illustrate a complex web crucial to the better understanding of the Achaemenid empire.

The interpretation of many of these actions in the context of her son is one that should be examined. Biases in recent historians may have certainly played a part in this construction. However, more importantly, it is still clear that the Achaemenid empire was a paternal society, regardless of how significant royal women may have been. Athenaeus, when explaining why the wedded wife does not object to so many concubines, states, “Among the Persians, the queen 1 puts up with a large number of concubines because the king rules his wedded wife like a master,...”[46] This passage makes abundantly clear that women did not take the center stage of the political world. The influence of inheritance and palace affairs does not contradict entirely with this statement. Emphasis on the son does not diminish her agency, as she acted in her own interest to secure the position of King’s mother.

There are, of course, fallacies in this narrative painted by Greek authors. Brosius rightfully points out many of Herodotus’s inaccuracies. The claim that Atossa had significant sway over the king’s decision to instate Xerxes as the next heir was unlikely; Xerxes was already the eldest son, therefore would have been entitled to the throne regardless of Atossa.[47] Indeed, most narratives involving the political scene of the dukšiš focus almost exclusively on the palace intrigue. Therefore, it could conceivably be argued that the narrative of empowered noblewomen were just an extension of the bestial and vengeful portrayal that the Greeks were trying to push.

It could also be argued, conversely, however, that the Greeks focused only on palace intrigue to distract from the dukšiš’s actual influence on government. In Brosius’s words,

“The fact that women could obtain and exercise such power is in itself a concept contrary to Greek customs, but above all, it reflected the despotism of a monarch while at the same time that it proved the weakness of his rule. How could an empire be ‘well-ruled,’ if women were influential and even exercised power over the king himself?”[48]

The journey to prove a negative in the face of Greek sources is therefore a double-edged sword. If we were to take what we have thus far at its face value, examples such as Amestris have revealed an incredibly bloodthirsty queen. Therefore, it seems prudent to assume a middle ground in the role of royal wives: it is likely that they were neither vengeful queens who sought to destroy families, nor were they the de-facto ruler for one of the most powerful empires. Their internal palace struggles came with the pains of a huge administration, and they were an imperative part of the political scene. While they may not have been all powerful, this does not negate their impact upon the empire.

Conclusion

The question of defining the inner circle of women around the Achaemenid king is vital to the better understanding of the Persian empire. From Alexander, to the Julio-Claudians, to empires years after, the rippling effects of the Achaemenid empire can still be felt. Without an accurate and precise understanding of the full administration, including women, we can never have a complete picture. In order to gain this holistic image, it is important to recognize the western influence in the pursuit of near-eastern studies.

This redefinition of the king’s inner circle serves as a first step in this process to be more faithful to the history we seek to explore. Be it their ability to own property and gain their own economic independence, or their passive importance in alliances, or their active influence over the empire, these women have advanced far beyond the scopes of mere sexual objects to the king. The inner-circle then becomes a different manifestation of political struggle. While there will continue to be concern over Greek bias, these repeated elements of women signal to some fraction of objective truth. With this, it is evident that the dukšiš and the wives within them had their own significant sphere of influence in the administration of the Achaemenid Empire.

Notes

[1]  Mary Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” in The Routledge Companion to Women and Monarchy in the Ancient Mediterranean World, ed. Elizabeth D. Carney, and Sabine Müller (Routledge, 2023), 150.

[2]  Mary Brosius, Women in Ancient Persia 559-331 BC (Clarendon Press, 1996).

[3]  Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones, “Harem: Royal Women and the Court,” in King and Court in Ancient Persia 559-331 BC (Edinburgh University Press, 2013), 109-110; Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” 97.

[4] Richard T. Hallock, “Glossary,” in Persepolis Fortification Tablets, (The University of Chicago Press, 1969), 683; Note: It should be noted that this paper takes dukšiš to refer to only the circle of women around the king, rather than the spatial term. Llewellyn-Jones accurately points out that “harem” can also be used to more inclusively describe the space and home of the king. He points out other pre-existing proposals to replace the terminology only to object based on the incomplete description of both a social circle and the physical space. I contend that this is not an accurate method of approaching this piece of history. The separation of the two meanings of “harem” adds to a more precise understanding of the Achaemenid empire. It does not subtract. We cannot sacrifice the opportunity to accurately portray ancient women just because of one imperfection. Therefore, this paper adopts an entirely social lens and seeks only to redefine the use of “harem” to describe the group of women, rather than dwell on the physical description of the king’s living space.

[5] Sebastian Fink, “Invisible Mesopotamian Royal Women,” in The Routledge Companion to Women and Monarchy in the Ancient Mediterranean World, ed. Elizabeth D. Carney, and Sabine Müller (Routledge, 2023), 137-138.

[6] Note: Mary Brosius uses an alternate spelling for many of the names in this paper. I will, however, be using the more commonly seen rendition of their names.

[7] Brosius, Women in Ancient Persia, 1.

[8] Matt Waters, Ancient Persia: A Concise history of the Achaemenid Empire, 550-330 BCE, (Cambridge University Press, 2014), 14.

[9] Note: It is here in this footnote that I also draw attention to the tragically few contemporary authors that are referenced. Due to the nicheness of the topic, most to all the narratives unfolded are primarily voiced by Brosius, who is quoted by the only two other authors various times. Ideally, with more discoveries into who Achaemenid women were, there will be more discussion. This is not to say that I have exhausted all authors; there are multiple scholarly articles from the University of Tehran, which are all in Arabic, without an official translation.

[10] Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones, “The Court,” in A Companion to the Achaemenid Persian Empire Vol. 1, ed. Bruno Jacobs, Robert Rollinger (John Wiley & Sons, 2021), 1036-1037.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Ibid.

[13] Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” 150.

[14] Ibid.

[15] Ibid, 149.

[16] This is the title of a specific woman, not in reference to the general role of “wives”.

[17] Irene Madreiter, Kordula Schnegg, “Gender and Sex,” in A Companion to the Achaemenid Persian Empire Vol. 1, ed. Bruno Jacobs, Robert Rollinger (John Wiley & Sons, 2021), 1126.

[18] It is important to note that this usage of the word “concubine” is also a point of contention. However, for the purposes of simplicity, this paper will accept this word, as it is not the main focus. There is, of course, still a purpose to pointing out these inaccuracies in Western interpretation.

[19] Llewellyn-Jones, “Harem: Royal Women and the Court,” 116.

[20] Ibid.

[21] Athenaeus, “C.(a) 23 Royal wives versus concubines,” in The Persian Empire, A Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period, ed. Amélie Khurt (Routledge, 2007), 593.

[22] Llewellyn-Jones, “Harem: Royal Women and the Court,” 118.

[23] Plutarch, “C.(a) 22 Royal wives withdraw from the dining room,” in The Persian Empire, A Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period, ed. Amélie Khurt (Routledge, 2007), 593

[24] Garrison, and Root, “I-A.3. Winged Human-faced/Human headed Bull Creatures,” 83-84.

[25] Ibid.

[26] We are currently unsure of what this word means.

[27] Unsure of meaning.

[28] Richard T. Hallock, “PF 1835,” in Persepolis Fortification Tablets, (The University of Chicago Press, 1969), 504.

[29] Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” 150.

[30] Ibid.

[31] Ibid.

[32] Ibid.

[33] Ibid.

[34] The king.

[35] Fink, “Invisible Mesopotamian Royal Women,” 144.

[36] Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” 150.

[37] Brosius, Women in Ancient Persia 559-331 BC, 113.

[38] Ibid.

[39] Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” 152

[40] Brosius, Women in Ancient Persia 559-331 BC, 114.

[41] Ibid, 4.

[42] Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” 149.

[43] Ibid, 154.

[44] Ibid.

[45] Ibid.

[46] Athenaeus, “C.(a) 23 Royal wives versus concubines,” 593.

[47] Brosius, “Achaimenid Women,” 152.

[48] Brosius, Women in Ancient Persia 559-331 BC, 105.

*Image featured as cover of post: petrus.agricola, Iran - Achaemenid Head of Prince (or Queen), portrait photo, 2012, photograph, Flickr, https://www.flickr.com/photos/28433765@N07/7109030547/in/photostream/.

Bibliography:

Athenaeus. “C.(a) 23 Royal wives versus concubines.” In The Persian Empire, A Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period, edited by Amélie Khurt. Routledge, 2007.

Brosius, Mary. “Achaimenid Women.” In The Routledge Companion to Women and Monarchy in the Ancient Mediterranean World, edited by Elizabeth D. Carney, and Sabine Müller. Routledge, 2023.

———. Women in Ancient Persia 559-331 BC. Clarendon Press, 1996.

Fink, Sebastian. “Invisible Mesopotamian Royal Women.” In The Routledge Companion to Women and Monarchy in the Ancient Mediterranean World, edited by Elizabeth D. Carney, and Sabine Müller. Routledge, 2023.

Garrison, Mark B., and Margaret C. Root. Seals on the Persepolis Fortification Tablets Volume I Images of Heroic Encounter. The Oriental Institute, Chicago, 2001.

Hallock, Richard T. “Glossary.” In Persepolis Fortification Tablets. The University of Chicago Press, 1969.

———.  “PF 1835.” In Persepolis Fortification Tablets. The University of Chicago Press, 1969.

Llewellyn-Jones, Lloyd. “Harem: Royal Women and the Court.” In King and Court in Ancient Persia 559-331 BC. Edinburgh University Press, 2013.

———. “The Court.” In A Companion to the Achaemenid Persian Empire Vol. 1, edited by Bruno Jacobs, Robert Rollinger. John Wiley & Sons, 2021.

Madreiter, Irene, and Kordula Schnegg. “Gender and Sex.” In A Companion to the Achaemenid Persian Empire Vol. 1, edited by Bruno Jacobs, Robert Rollinger. John Wiley & Sons, 2021.

Plutarch. “C.(a) 22 Royal wives withdraw from the dining room.” In The Persian Empire, A Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period, edited by Amélie Khurt. Routledge, 2007.

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