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The description of the kingdom of Musicanus in Sind is one of the more detailed sketches of an Indian society that has reached us as part of the ancient accounts of Alexander’s campaign. The geographer Strabo, writing about 1 BC, provides a paraphrase of a description written by one of Alexander’s accompanying historians, Onesicritus. In addition, he gives us a short description of the locality by another historian, Aristobulus; while the historians whose work survives in full – all writing between 300 and 500 years after Alexander’s campaign – all provide narrative accounts of Alexander’s expedition through Sind.

It is important to remember that we have only fragmentary remains of all the writers who travelled with Alexander and described his expedition in detail. These fragments consist of quotations in the historians who are our main continuous sources, all of whom were writing between 300 and 500 years after Alexander’s expedition. All of them, Strabo in particular, give copious extracts or paraphrases from the earlier writers, but they chose what interested them and were often unable to resolve contradictions between their sources. Strabo in particular seems not to have understood that India¹ was a big place, and customs described by one writer in one place were not evidence that a description of different customs by another writer in another place was mountain ranges on the correct side of the river.² So the reports we have of the contemporary writers are invaluable, and should not be treated with the scorn that Strabo sometimes meted out.

Onesicritus’ description of the kingdom of Musicanus is a test case for the ways in which Greek writers approached the interpretation of foreign societies. Certain norms of ethnographic writing had been established since Herodotus in the 5th century and Ctesias in the earlt 4th. Often the alien society is interpreted in terms of its ‘otherness’ from Greek norms; at other times, features of the alien society seem to strike a chord and prompt comparison with some known Greek society. Both otherness and similarity may be in the eye of the beholder, and there is frequently a suspicion that the Greek sees what he expects to see, or interprets according to particular predilections, perhaps philosophical, of his own. As Onesicritus is associated by ancient sources with the Cynic philosopher Diogenes, whose teachings he had studied, the suspicion of philosophical over-interpretation is particularly strong. His work comes to the fore in the description not only of Musicanus’ kingdom, but in that of Cathaea in the Punjab and of the naked philosophers of Taxila, all of which seem to contain idealising elements. A primary purpose of this paper is to examine Onesicritus’ reliability and to test what he tells us about Musicanus’ people against what we can learn from other sources. It is notable that Onesicritus did ot give comparable treatment – as far as we can tell – to any of the other states in Sind which Alexander subdued. Can it be that Musica was the only place where the army stayed long enough for the philosopher to observe the society?

Alexander’s campaign in Sind

Alexander and his army spent the period from November 326 BC to July 325 BC voyaging down the Indus to its mouth. Their passage was accompanied by fierce fighting all the way, to the extent that some scholars have been moved to speak of a ‘reign of terror’. Part of the reason must have been the need to obtain adequate food and other supplies, as the country became more arid the further south they went. Bosworth saw it rather as a sign of Alexander’s megalomania: those rulers and cities that sent ‘signs of submission’ were treated lightly, while those who did not acknowledge Alexander’s lordship were massacred. In 1975 PHL Eggermont proposed a third explanation, that Alexander needed to secure his lines of communication to the lands he had left behind, and that Musicanus’ kingdom was crucial to this strategic aim: the neighbouring tribes of the Malli and of Sambus paid tribute to Arachosia, so presumably Musicanus did too. The region provided ‘an important trans-shipment centre for the goods conveyed from Arachosia in Iran to the Indus valley’, The interpretation is somewhat speculative but provides a third line of thought about Alexander’s strategy in the Indus voyage; and it would lend strength to the view that Alexander was not simply abandoning his conquests in India but was attempting to consolidate his hold on this fringe of his empire, as he headed back towards its centre (which was to be Babylon).Alexander’s aims in the Indus campaign may become clearer as we look more closely at his encounter with the kingdom of Musicanus, and the neighbouring peoples. (I follow the narrative of Arrian where possible).

From his starting point on the Hydaspes the fleet sailed to the junction with the Acesines (Chenab), which took five days. They first encountered the Sibi, near Shorkot, who received him well; according to Curtius, they believed themselves to be a remnant of Hercules’ army: this was presumably an invention of Alexander, who saw himself as following in the Greek hero-god’s footsteps, but it disposed him favourably towards them nonetheless. The next encounter was with the Agalasseis, of whom Alexander massacred the majority, enslaved the remainder, and burned down their city with all its occupants. (Neither of these peoples is mentioned by Arrian).The next major encounter, according to Arrian, was with the Malli (Malavas), who were waiting for him with a large and hostile army some sixty miles east of the Hydraotes (Ravi). However, Curtius and Diodorus say that he first came to the city of a closely allied people, the Oxydracae or Sudracae (Ksudrakas): the Malli and Sudracae had patched up their quarrels and made common cause against a common enemy, each retiring to defend their own city against the invader. In one or other of these cities Alexander was severely wounded, and the historians give conflicting accounts of his dramatic rescue from the enemy. According to Ptolemy, both blood and breath spurted out, which sounds like a punctured lung. Whatever it was it necessitated many days’ convalescence: Curtius alone specifies that the king lay bedridden for seven days before being moved to a hospital tent on his ship so that the voyage could continue.

This episode at the Malli town is the first mention of a city in the Indus voyage. This prompts the question of how far Sind was urbanised at this date. Inclusion in the Achaemenid Empire seems to have provided a stimulus to the growth of cities, such as Puskalavati and Taxila further north;but even if Sind was a satrapy of the empire, as it probably was, it was the furthest from Persia and perhaps less susceptible to this kind of influence. The growth of cities may also have been inhibited by the frequent changes of course of the River Indus, what Allchin calls ‘post-urban adaptations to changing environmental demands’.Alexander met up with Perdiccas and the land army at the confluence with the Indus. Here he received the submission of several peoples and founded a city, named Alexandria, which is probably Uch, and equivalent to the ‘Alexandria of the Yonakas’ mentioned in the Mahavamsa. Alexander appointed the Companion Peithon satrap of the whole region southwards from here to the sea. The historians do not provide us with sufficient chronological indications to determine when in 325 these events occurred. Progress in the first days of the voyage seems to have been slow, and the massacres must have taken some time to carry out; add to that a minimum of seven days’ convalescence and the foundation of a new city, and we cannot be looking at less than two.

Geography and the Capital

Alexander’s next target was the kingdom of Musicanus. Arrian describes this as ‘the richest in India’;the historian’s close-focus approach to narrative generally interprets Alexander’s actions as motivated by immediate gain, whether pecuniary or romantic, and provides us with little that would help us to analyse the wider strategy of the campaign. This stage of the voyage went so swiftly – perhaps the river ran more smoothly here? – that Alexander reached the kingdom of Musicanus before the latter had been informed of his approach. Musicanus judged it best to receive Alexander with gifts and submission. Alexander installed a garrison in the city, and ordered Craterus to fortify the citadel, ‘since the place seemed to him convenient for watching and keeping a hold over the tribes round about’: Arrian’s interpretation of Alexander’s reasoning again sticks to short-term aims rather than strategy.

It is evident that the army spent some time there since Onesicritus found time to write a rather full description of its society.

We are fortunate in having a detailed description of the society of Musicanus’ kingdom from Onesicritus,
as well as a topographical and climatic report from Aristobulus,
both paraphrased by Strabo. Aristobulus (F35.19) tells us that ‘the region from Patalene [the mouth of the Indus] as far as the Hydaspes (Jhelum)’ receives no rain, in this resembling the region of Egypt from the Thebais to Syene (Aswan). The observation fits with a sojourn here in January or February. Aristobulus goes on to say ‘that when he was sent on a certain mission he saw a country of more than a thousand cities, together with villages, that had been deserted because the Indus had

Alexander’s next target was the kingdom of Musicanus. Arrian describes this as ‘the richest in India’;
the historian’s close-focus approach to narrative generally interprets Alexander’s actions as motivated by immediate gain, whether pecuniary or romantic, and provides us with little that would help us to analyse the wider strategy of the campaign. This stage of the voyage went so swiftly – perhaps the river ran more smoothly here? – that Alexander reached the kingdom of Musicanus before the latter had been informed of his approach. Musicanus judged it best to receive Alexander with gifts and submission. Alexander installed a garrison in the city, and ordered Craterus to fortify the citadel, ‘since the place seemed to him convenient for watching and keeping a hold over the tribes round about’: Arrian’s interpretation of Alexander’s reasoning again sticks to short-term aims rather than strategy.

It is evident that the army spent some time there since Onesicritus found time to write a rather full description of its society.

We are fortunate in having a detailed description of the society of Musicanus’ kingdom from Onesicritus,
as well as a topographical and climatic report from Aristobulus, both paraphrased by Strabo. Aristobulus (F35.19) tells us that ‘the region from Patalene [the mouth of the Indus] as far as the Hydaspes (Jhelum)’ receives no rain, in this resembling the region of Egypt from the Thebais to Syene (Aswan). The observation fits with a sojourn here in January or February. Aristobulus goes on to say ‘that when he was sent on a certain mission he saw a country of more than a thousand cities, together with villages,
that had been deserted because the Indus had abandoned its proper bed, and had turned aside into the other bed on the left that was much deeper, and flowed with precipitous descent like a cataract, so that the Indus no longer watered by its overflows the abandoned country on its right, since that country was now above the level, not only of the new stream, but also of its overflows’.

What locality is Aristobulus describing? Attempts to link his account of the change in the river’s course with the legendary lost River Sarasvati are probably fruitless,

and it must be impossible now to determine exactly what course the Indus followed at any particular point in history, 325 BC included. Aristobulus is probably referring not only to recently abandoned villages, but also to the visible ruins of sites from the Indus Civilization that had ceased to be occupied a millennium and a half before Alexander’s time.

It has been generally accepted in the scholarship since Cunningham that Musicanus’ kingdom was centred on Alor, or Rohri, on the east bank of an eastern branch of the Indus.
This prominent stronghold was the medieval capital of Sind, and in the 8th century CE it had strong fortification walls as well as royal buildings, villas and gardens.
One may imagine a comparably flourishing town a thousand years earlier when Alexander came there.

Regional Rulers and Revolts

The general location of Musicanus’ capital and kingdom is confirmed by the co-ordinates of the other principalities Alexander came into contact with immediately afterwards. The first of these, according to Arrian (6.16.1-2) was Oxicanus. Like Musicanus (and like Taxiles earlier in the expedition) the ruler has been given the name of the kingdom he ruled. Winiarczyk doubts that Musicanus’ was in fact a kingdom: Curtius refers rather to a people called Musicani.  The Indian ethnonym, corresponding to Musicanus is uncertain, Sircar (1971, 38) connects it with the river Musi near Hyderabad, but Arora (2005.91) speculates that the name represents Sanskrit Muṣika, perhaps to be identified with a people known in the nineteenth century as the Moghsis. The Musika are also mentioned in the Mahabharata:  ‘There are other kingdoms, O bull of Bharata’s race’, in the south. They are the Dravidas, the Keralas, the Prachyas, the Mushikas, and the Vanavashikas; the Karanatakas, the Mahishakas, the Vikalpas, and also the Mushakas…’ and so on. Oxicanus’ name has been associated by Eggermont (12) with Azica, listed by Ptolemy. Another suggestion, by Cunningham (1924, 300), links it rather with Oskana,  on a small stream west of the Indus. The historians other than Arrian all refer to a ruler named Porticanus at this point in the advance. The difference in the two names is surprising if both denote the same person, and Eggermont argued that they are different, placing Porticanus’ capital at Ptolemaic Pardabathra, and identifying his people, the Praesti of Curtius, with the Prachyas (a name which was, as we have seen, also mentioned in the Mahabharata list close to the Musika). Thus Arrian followed a tradition which only mentioned Oxicanus, while the others follow a source that only had Porticanus. This may be right but cannot be demonstrated.Oxicanus was defeated by Alexander, and his next target, according to Arrian, was a ruler called Sambus, based at Sindimana. Sindimana is generally identified with Sehwan, though as Vincent Smith sardonically noted, ‘Sindimana may or may not have been Sihwan, with which it is commonly “identified”, for no better reason than that both names begin with Cunningham found stronger reasons for the identification (1924, 303): ‘partly from its similarity of name, and partly from its vicinity to the Lakki mountains. Of its antiquity there can be no doubt, as the great mound, which was once the citadel, is formed chiefly of ruined buildings’. Sehwan dominated the western bank of the Indus as Aror dominated the eastern, though, as Cunningham notes, ‘in ancient times, when the river flowed down the eastern channel of the Nara, Sehwan was not less than 65 miles distant from its nearest point at Jakrao, where it leaves the sand-hills’. By securing the submission of both these kingdoms, Alexander controlled both banks of the Indus northwards and thus secured his lines of communication back as far as Kandahar.The final conquest by Alexander in this region was the City of the Brahmans, probably Harmatelia. Cunningham inferred that this city was in fact part of Musicanus’ kingdom, in which case Musicanus’ sway included most of the Indus delta; but it may be that the Brahman city was Patanjali’, implying that it had an independent constitutional status, probably as an oligarchy rather than a kingdom like Musicanus’. It was while Alexander was occupied with the conquest of the Brahman city that news reached him that Musicanus had revolted, apparently at the instigation of the Brahmans. Alexander razed the cities of his realm, enslaved the inhabitants, and established a number of garrisons in the region. Musicanus was captured by Peithon, whom Alexander had appointed satrap of the region, and both the king and the leading Brahmans were hanged (Arrian) or crucified (Curtius 9.8.16). With these garrisons Alexander seemed to have established control of the region, including Musicanus’ capital, which ‘seemed to him convenient for watching and keeping a hold over the tribes round about’. The ruler of Patala, at the mouth of the Indus, now arrived and offered submission to Alexander. Thus Alexander did not merely ‘control the tribes round about’, but had, it appeared, secured a line of communication from Kandahar to the sea. In fact this control did not long survive Alexander’s departure from the region, but at this moment the strategic aim seemed to have been achieved.

Society and Culture (The "Utopian" View)

On arrival at Alor, Alexander ‘much admired the city and country’. It seems he had good reason. The land from Bukkur to Sehwan is very fertile, and the region is sometimes called ‘the Garden of Sind’. Richard F. Burton in 1851 wrote ‘the heaps of ruins which cover the face of the country, the traces of great and important works, the concurrence of tradition, histories, and travellers, in describing its ancient glories, are so many proofs that the province was not always what it is now’. In his later book Sind Revisited (1877), he waxes eloquent about the picturesque setting of Alor (which he calls Rohri), a ‘tall irregular mass of mud-walls… built upon an eminence of limestone’. ‘Sakhar (i.e. Sukkur) Reach, where irrigation is easy, boasts of beautiful date and garden grounds, with the various items of Jamun, Ber, Pipal, Nim, tamarinds and tamarisks, poplars, red-flowered capers, and the pomegranate, all flame and green’. He also writes ‘At this season, early February, Sakhar will surprise you by its delightful climate’, comparing it to Tuscany, and noting that this pleasant weather will last until the end of March.

We cannot be certain at just what season Alexander arrived at Alor, but it seems likely that it was in the period February to March, before the ‘feverish’ April (258) set in. This may be part of the reason that Onesicritus, the most philosophical of the lost Alexander historians, found in Musicanus’ land a kind of utopia. Strabo reports that he praised it for the longevity of the inhabitants (though the Seres [i.e. Chinese] live even longer), ‘their healthfulness, and simple diet, even though their country has an abundance of everything’. Onesicritus also described ‘a On arrival at Alor, Alexander ‘much admired the city and country’. It seems he had good reason. The land from Bukkur to Sehwan is very fertile, and the region is sometimes called ‘the Garden of Sind’. Richard F. Burton in 1851 wrote ‘the heaps of ruins which cover the face of the country, the traces of great and important works, the concurrence of tradition, histories, and travellers, in describing its ancient glories, are so many proofs that the province was not always what it is now’. In his later book Sind Revisited (1877), he waxes eloquent about the picturesque setting of Alor (which he calls Rohri), a ‘tall irregular mass of mud-walls… built upon an eminence of limestone’. ‘Sakhar (i.e. Sukkur) Reach, where irrigation is easy, boasts of beautiful date and garden grounds, with the various items of Jamun, Ber, Pipal, Nim, tamarinds and tamarisks, poplars, red-flowered capers, and the pomegranate, all flame and green’. He also writes ‘At this season, early February, Sakhar will surprise you by its delightful climate’, comparing it to Tuscany, and noting that this pleasant weather will last until the end of March.

We cannot be certain at just what season Alexander arrived at Alor, but it seems likely that it was in the period February to March, before the ‘feverish’ April (258) set in. This may be part of the reason that Onesicritus, the most philosophical of the lost Alexander historians, found in Musicanus’ land a kind of utopia. Strabo reports that he praised it for the longevity of the inhabitants (though the Seres [i.e. Chinese] live even longer), ‘their healthfulness, and simple diet, even though their country has an abundance of everything’. Onesicritus also described ‘a self-grown grain, similar to wheat’, and vines from which wine is produced, as well as wool-bearing trees; and he went into detail about the banyan. The country abounds in herbs and roots both curative and poisonous, and in plants of many colours.’ Onesicritus had time to observe and record several interesting facts about the society of the Musicani. They have what Strabo calls ‘a kind of Laconian common mess where they eat in public and use as food the meat of animals taken in the chase.’ U.P. Arora plausibly suggests that this is a reference to Yajurvedic communal dining. ‘They make no use of gold or silver, though they have mines’: does he just mean that they do not use coinage, or that precious metals are not used at all? ‘Instead of slaves they use young men in the vigour of life, as the Cretans use the Aphamiotae and the Laconians the Helots; and they make no accurate study of the sciences except that of medicine; for they regard much training in some of them as wickedness; for example, military science and the like; and they have no process at law except for murder and outrage, for it is not in one’s power to avoid suffering these, whereas the content of contracts is in the power of each man himself.’

The comparisons Onesicritus makes to the customs of Sparta and Crete, both regarded in some sense as ideal societies in the Greek world, as well as the longevity of the inhabitants and their justice, have suggested to some scholars that Onesicritus is presenting a portrait of an ideal society which may have little relation to the realities of life in Musika. Their contempt for military science seems at odds with their violent rebellion against their conqueror; however, it may be a hangover from the relatively peaceful ways of the people of Mohenjo-Daro, whose weapons are described as ‘not very menacing’ by Nadiem (1995, 64). The cultivation of vines seems at odds with Brahman prohibitions, though Ctesias half a century earlier had also praised the wine from the Indus. Greeks had certainly encountered vines and wine in the north-west, which was less dominated by Brahmanism.

The alleged absence of slavery is a historical puzzle. Megasthenes in the third century stated that slavery was unknown in India, but he was clearly wrong. In the Laws of Manu, to name but one of the Brahmanical law books, slavery is regarded as a datum: at 8.415 Manu specifies the seven ways in which slaves can be made: through warfare, out of poverty, through being born in a household, by purchase, by gift, by inheritance, and as a punishment. None of these seems to resemble Onesicritus’ statement about the use of young men. Romila Thapar writes:

Slavery was a recognized institution… Megasthenes may have been confused by the caste status cutting across the economic stratification. Technically, there was no large-scale slavery for production. Greek society made a sharp distinction between the freeman and the slave, which distinction was not apparent in Indian society.

The suspicion arises that Megasthenes, and Onesicritus before him, are applying a feature thought to be characteristic of ideal societies, or utopias, to the societies they observed.

The justice of the Indians had become something of a cliché in Greek writing since Ctesias wrote his book about India in the early  century. Three passages in Photius’ summary of his book refer to it: ‘Ctesias claims that the Indians are very just people’ (F. 45.16); ‘Ctesias says a great deal about their justice, their goodwill towards their king, and their contempt for death’ (F 45.30); and a third passage attributes justice to an Indian people known as the Dog-heads (F 45.43). A thousand years later, the Chinese Buddhist pilgrim Xuanzang said of the Indians (of the north-west) ‘in money matters they are without craft, and in administering justice they are considerate…They are not deceitful or treacherous in their conduct, and are faithful to their oaths and promises’ Hs words seem almost to echo those of Onesicritus. Their honourable approach to contracts (in a society without writing) is referred to in other Greek sources too, though Aelian suggests that this is due simply to laziness.Plato believed it was necessary to create a utopia to ensure a just society, and that justice could only be ensured by extensive and detailed laws. Indian society is described by both Nearchus and Megasthenes as having no written laws, so that India could be construed as a natural Utopia. Indians, like Plato, recognized that society was impossible without a sense of justice. So the dharma was established at the moment of creation, The power of the dharma was enshrined in the numerous books of laws or dharmasutras, which began to be written in the early centuries sixth century BCE. A statement in the Chāndogya Upaniṣad (5.11.5) runs ‘In my kingdom there are no thieves, no misers, no one who drinks; no one without learning or a sacred fire, no lecher, much less a whore!’. In the Mahābhārata (12.120.1-9) ‘Bhīṣma said… Just as a peacock’s tail has feathers of many colours, so should a king who knows the Laws display many different forms – sharpness, deviousness, indomitability, truthfulness, and rectitude… he should rely upon Brahmins and accomplished ascetics’. The interconnection of laws and kingship is also the context for the exchange between the naked philosophers and Alexander in the Alexander Romance (3.6).: ‘What is kingship?’ ‘Unjust power used to the disadvantage of others; insolence supported by opportunity; a golden burden’.

The devotion of the Musicani to medicine is a characteristic that Megasthenes drew attention in his own familiar region of Magadha. He writes ‘their medicine is done mainly with cereal products, not with drugs; of drugs they mainly employ ointments and poultices’. The Pramnae of Strabo (15.1.70) seem to be Brahmans, who ‘carry wallets full of roots and drugs, making claim to medical expertise in spells and incantations and amulets’. Brahmans, unlike Buddhists, could not have contact with a sick body so their incantations were primary; but they could also offer the sufferer herbal remedies. This is just what was provided for Ptolemy when he suffered a dangerous wound from a poisoned arrow somewhere in this region: according to Curtius (9.8.26-7), Alexander had a dream of a healing herb, and a large party was sent out to search for it: it had the desired effect. No doubt the dream was in fact a quiet word with a well-disposed Brahman It is notable that Onesicritus did not (as far as we know) offer comparable descriptions of other Sind societies, though he did take an interest in the customs of several other states. Onesicritus also described the kingdom of Cathaea in the Punjab, where kings were elected for their beauty, marriages were made for love, babies were scrutinised to decide whether they should live or die, and people dyed their beards in bright colours. Widow-burning was encountered here for the first time by the Greeks. Cathaea is perhaps to be identified with the Katthis of Kathiawar. This interesting selection of curious customs hardly adds up to a utopia, though some of the traits may be admirable (and the eugenic approach to newborns would not have disgusted an ancient Greek). Onesicritus was also given the task of interviewing the naked philosophers of Taxila, on which occasion he was able to observe the strict vegetarianism of these ascetics, and to tell his interlocutor that the doctrines he purveyed resembled those of Pythagoras. Unfortunately Strabo’s summary hardly makes it possible to discover what the Indian taught, or in what respects his beliefs resembled those of Pythagoras. (I discuss this in more detail below).

Strabo (15.1.34) remarks sourly that Onesicritus ‘lauds the country of Musicanus rather at length for things of which some are reported as common also to other Indians’. In fact the things he reports can, as I have shown, mostly be corroborated form Indian sources as well.

Historical Reality

How far can we use Onesicritus’ account of the kingdom of Musicanus to construct a historical picture of the state?

It quickly becomes clear that Strabo has not given us anything like a systematic or comprehensive account of the society of the Musicani. Strabo says that Onesicritus “lauds them at length for things which are reported as common also to other Indians,” and the points he mentions are simply examples of the kind of thing Onesicritus recorded. The same seems to be true of Strabo’s other summaries of Onesicritus’ work: on the kingdom of Cathaea he mentions just a few points, and even in the long description of the Greek’s interview with the Naked Philosophers of Taxila, Strabo must have left out a good deal.

He writes of Mandanis (15.1.65 = Onesic. F. 17a):

All he said, according to Onesicritus, tended to this, that the best teaching is that which removes pleasure and pain from the soul, and that pain and toil differ… and that, furthermore, he had advised Taxiles to receive Alexander, for if he received a man better than himself he would be well treated, but if inferior, he would improve him. Onesicritus says that, after saying this, Mandanis inquired whether such doctrines were taught among the Greeks; and that when he answered that Pythagoras taught such doctrines, and that he custom to nature; for otherwise, Mandanis said, they would not be ashamed to go naked, like himself, and live on frugal fare.

The discourse continues, but this long quotation must be enough to show that Strabo has left something out: for what Mandanis says in the first part does not seem to contain any actual doctrine, yet Onesicritus says that what he speaks of resembles the teaching of Pythagoras. One might expect that reincarnation – an idea common to Indians and to Pythagoreans – had been mentioned in this context, but Strabo makes no mention of it. It is difficult to see anything Pythagorean in Mandanis’ not very profound remarks, while it is Onesicritus himself who comes up with the Pythagorean teachings. I believe that Strabo here shows himself to be unskilled in making a precis of what he read. One should not forget, in addition, that Onesicritus had to use a series of three interpreters to conduct his conversation with Mandanis, which made it difficult to glean much philosophical value.

We do not know how Onesicritus acquired his information about the kingdom of Musicanus, and whether he conversed with wise men or leading figures in the kingdom. Even if he relied solely on what he could observe by looking around him, it is obvious that his description lacks many topics that an ethnologist would home in on: religion, women, diet, commerce, the arts, for example, all of which are topics that Megasthenes also omits in his description of Maurya India. Winiarczyk quotes with approval a remark of Breloer that one can be by no means certain that the land of Musicanus was actually a kingdom. Can we be certain even of so much?

It is true that the name is an ethnonym; as in many other places Greek writers apply the ethnonym to the perceived leading man of the state. We can seek some context by considering the different kinds of state for which we have evidence in India of the 4th century BCE. Upinder Singh, in a valuable discussion of the rise of states from 600-300 BCE, shows that in the late Vedic period there was a transition from tribal polities based on lineage to territorial states. These could take various forms. There were sixteen mahajanapadas or “large settled regions/states,” mostly in the Ganges valley and region northwards to the mountains and southwards to Ujjain. These included not only kingdoms (rajyas) but ganas and sanghas, which were republics with a ruling oligarchy, often clan-based. In the Indus region, Panini’s Astadhyayi mentions several ganas, including the Kshurakas and Malavas (Oxydracae and Malloi in Greek), as well as the Shibis (Sibi) and Ambasthas (Abastanoi?).

The rise of kingship involves the concentration of political power in a single individual and is thus an extreme form of clan-based power, supported by the concentration of land-ownership, in which strategic marriages would commonly play a part. Singh writes:

“The supremacy of the rajan was achieved by sidelining rival claimants to power, establishing coercive mechanisms, and control over productive resources.”

Warfare was also a factor in the consolidation of a king’s power, as the Vedic battle leader becomes also a protector of his people.

Brahmans are “custodians of the social order”; this can also be expressed as the transition from the dominance of ṛta to dharma. The rhetoric or ideology of a kingdom thus involves an emphasis on the rule of law. This fits very well for what Onesicritus tells us of Musicanus. Later, both the Laws of Manu and the Arthaśāstra of Kautilya emphasise the role of the king as protector of his people. Dare we interpret the kingdom of Musicanus as one in which religious duties were so attenuated that Onesicritus had no occasion to observe them? Singh also draws attention to the close relationship of kings with Brahmans, who are under their especial protection. This is consonant with the information in Arrian that the Brahmans of the Brahman city had instigated the revolt of Musicanus; and also with the statement of Megasthenes, a decade or two after Onesicritus, that the Brahmans (in his case in Magadha, in the Maurya kingdom) are advisers to the king. I do not wish here to go into the vexed question of Megasthenes’ report on the seven divisions of Indian society, and whether these have anything to do with caste; but he refers both to the “philosophers who are used by those who make sacrifices to the gods or offerings to the dead” (these have to be Brahmans) and to “the advisers and councillors of the king, in whose hands are the chief offices of state, the courts and administration of everything” (who need not be Brahmans).

Thus, everything we learn from Onesicritus and the other historians is consistent with Musicanus’ state being an early example of a new-style Indian kingdom, with an emphasis on law. Onesicritus’ report is reliable as far as it goes, but cannot be regarded as a systematic portrait of the kingdom. We must remember that, while Onesicritus was interested in the way people lived in India, Alexander probably was not: his strategic aims overrode his philosophical interests, and Musicanus and his people could only end up as victims. Peithon (Berve 619) retained his satrapy after the death of Alexander, and, according to Justin, he and the other eastern satraps made a good thing of their opportunities, turning their provinces into virtual kingdoms. How long such kingly power continued, our historical sources do not tell us. Within a short time after Alexander’s departure, many Indian states reverted to native rule; and a new power in the north, Candragupta’s Maurya kingdom, was establishing a native empire over a large part of India. The story of the kingdom of the Musika falls silent until it re-emerges under its new name of Alor in the ninth century CE.

Bibliography

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Subsequent travels in Pakistan.

I was delighted and honoured to be invited by the Endowment Fund Trust to this conference in Pakistan, a country I had long anted to visit. The conference exceeded all my expectations. The academic programme was first-rate and I learned a great deal both from my British fellow-delegates and from the speakers from France, Greece, and, not least Pakistan. Most of the latter opened up topics that were completely new to me; I think particularly of Dr Kalhoro’s talk on Alexander in tomb wall-paintings of the 19th/20th centuries, Dr Baloch on the flora and fauna of Nearchus’ voyage, and Dr Tarar on Alexander’s impact on the Indus Valley. I was most impressed by the level of attendance and the enthusiasm and engagement of the many scholars, students, and other interested parties in the audience.

The hospitality was out of this world. We began with a memorable lunch at the Sindh Club (where Professor Lane Fox was soon on his knees in front of the dahlias), and continued with a splendid dinner at the Karachi Boat Club, with many interesting fellow-guests. The concert by Abida Parveen was a unique experience and I shall never forget the delight of the mostly young audience as the evening drew to a close.

The party of foreign delegates were looked after with matchless care by the EFT staff: I particularly single out Abdur Rahman Shaikh (whose nickname Tipu suits him so well) and Amal Hashim for their efforts and their gracious attentiveness.

As the conference ended we were all driven to Sehwan; I was sad that the journey along the River Indus took place in darkness and I was unable to gaze on the river of my dreams. (However, my longing was satisfied later in the trip). In Sehwan we first visited the Qalandar shrine and witnessed a dance of red-robed dervishes (whom I think of as the ‘whirling Father Christmases’) and were received with honours and scarves by the local people. Later we were treated to another concert of sufi music by a male singer with a magnificent voice, and his accompanists.

After breakfast we visited the sit at Sehwan and were impressed by the scale of the restorations and reconstructions at the fort. The foreign party then split up, and I continued to Larkana in the supportive company of Rashid Ali and the driver Arif (also an accomplished musician). Both did all they could to make sure I was comfortable and well supplied on our visits (over two days) to Mohenjo Daro, and to the Bhutto family mausoleum. Mohenjo Daro impressed me greatly, as did the local guide Javed Ali Sheikh who was very well-informed, thorough, and delightful company. We were treated to two excellent lunches at the excavation house courtesy of the director.

A bonus for me was a visit to Rohri, almost certainly the seat of the Kingdom of Musicanus about which I spoke at the conference. Rohri is the first high ground we reached after leaving Sehwan and fits well the description in Arrian of a place suitable for a garrison and for ‘keeping watch on the region round about’. Here we were able to see the Indus in all its majesty, and later at the Sukkur Barrage.

The misfortune of the cancellation of my evening flight from Sukkur to Islamabad brought out the best in Rashid and the home team in Karachi. My flight was quickly changed to one the next day form Karachi, and Rashid and Arif drove me back through the night to Karachi, stopping once to borrow a cushion for my comfort from some family members, and arriving in Karachi at 4 am. A room was waiting for me at the Marriott and I flew at 4 pm to Islamabad to be met by the reliable Mehran Khan at the airport.

Having missed a day, I had a long morning instead of a full day at Taxila, but had it in the company of Robin Lane Fox and Harriet Rix, fresh from plant-hunting in Quetta. Professor Hameed and his student Gul Kalash were excellent guide to the Jaulian Stupa, the Taxila Museum and the Bhir Mound. About 4 pm I departed with Mehran and driver to Mingora, arriving about 9 pm.

On Sunday we visited Butkara Stupas I and III, a Buddhist relief in the valley and made an unexpected visit to Mehran’s uncle’s hotel at a ski resort above the snow line. On Monday we visited Mingora Bazaar and the Swat Museum, a very rewarding collection, as well as the memorial mosque of the Akond of Swat, famed in English poetry. We then departed for Lahore, pausing for half an hour to view the excavated site at Bazira/Barikot. We reached Lahore about 9 pm. After some difficulties (which caused me some anxiety) I was able to transfer sufficient funds to Mehran’s bank account to pay for the driver and petrol, etc, for my long journeyings.

At Lahore’s Avari Hoetl (which was fabulous) I met up again with Robin and Harriet for several dinners and breakfasts, which was a great pleasure. I saw all the things I most wanted to see in Lahore, notably the Lahore Museum and ‘Kim’s Gun’. The rich programme of visits (devised by Abdur Rahman) over three days included Lahore Fort and the Badshahi Mosque, Food Street, Wazir Khan Mosque and Shahi Hamam, Botanical Gardens, Lawrence Gardens and Shalamar gardens, as well as a short shopping excursion. (I would have liked to see Anarkali Bazaar, but time ran out). There were some delays as Mehran did not know where all the places in Lahore were and we spent some time driving up and down and round about: we arrived at the Sheehs Mahal at closing time, and at the Fakir Khana Museum without an appointment, so were turned away. I felt that Mehran lacked experience in the role though he did his best with finding information online, and was always present for my every need. The driver did a wonderful job of covering very large distances, very safely, and direction finding and parking in the difficult city conditions without mishap. I greatly regretted that I was unable to give him the tip he deserved as Mehran unexpectedly demanded the last of my money at 4m on the day of my departure for the expense of returning the car to Islamabad. I wished I had been given some advance warning of the sum that would be required so that I could have been fully prepared. This monetary concern was the only thing that marred my delight in the part of my journey outside Sindh. For the rest, I can only express my wondering delight and thanks to the EFT for the generosity with which they supported my visit to Sindh and my accommodation in the other parts of Pakistan.

Richard Stoneman

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