In Search of the Trojan War (42 page)

The identification of Wilusa with Troy would be more likely
if we could be sure that the troublesome king of Ahhiyawa in the Hittite texts is indeed Mycenaean Greek, as I argued ten years ago. This identification is now stronger. In the early 1980s some scholars had postulated a Thracian or Bulgarian Ahhiyawa; this had little to recommend it, and is now seemingly ruled out by new inscriptions discovered at Xanthus which tend to confirm the picture of west Anatolian geography adopted in
Chapter 6
above. In any case the Thracian theory had the further major drawback of leaving a disagreeable void in reconstructing the history of the period (namely, why at the height of their power and influence, did the Mycenaeans thus appear to be unknown to the Hittites?).

The Hittites, it is true, exhibit a curious lack of information on what was obviously a power to be reckoned with. This certainly suggests the seat of Ahhiyawan power was overseas, even though boundary texts and letters show Ahhiyawa had a foothold in western Anatolia. There are clear hints of sea journeys to reach it; one text refers to an exiled Arzawan prince, an ally of Ahhiyawa, going ‘to the islands,’ before exile, apparently in Ahhiyawa itself. Now a new translation of an important Hittite letter mentions the Ahhiyawan king seizing islands which had been in the Hittite sphere of influence. Most would now accept that such islands, off the shore of western Anatolia, are in the Aegean (probably, as we shall see, Lesbos and its smaller neighbours).

The strong likelihood is that Forrer was right after all, and that the Ahhiyawans and Homer’s Achaiwoi are indeed the same. The Hittite tablets suggest that around 1300 BC the Greeks extended their power over islands close to the Anatolian shore and also recaptured Miletus (Hittite Millawanda) and its hinterland. In the process their forays became a real threat to the network of Hittite client states in western Anatolia, a threat which the Hittite Foreign Office acknowledged and attempted to deal with. Subsequent letters catalogue cases of Ahhiyawan interference among the Hittite client states in Arzawa, the fomenting of alliances with these states against the Hittite king, and the giving of support to troublesome renegades like
Pijamaradus. Finally, on one tablet there is talk of war with the Great King of Hatti. All in all, it is hard to see who else can have caused all this, if not the Mycenaean Greeks.

It is at this time that we find the Ahhiyawan king being addressed by the Hittite chancery as ‘great King.’ Could a Mycenaean
wanax
ruling in the Argolid and over some Aegean islands really have been called ‘Great King’ by the rulers of central Anatolia? Many have doubted this, but it is clear now that he could. He does not appear in the list of Muwatalli’s day in the Wilusa treaty, but he does appear subsequently in documents of Hattusilis and later. This fits with other evidence that the Greeks extended their power in the Aegean in the early thirteenth century BC. Now further parallels for the use of the title of ‘Great King’ are available, for example in a newly discovered bronze tablet from Boghaz Köy, and in other material which shows that during the thirteenth century ‘great kingship’ was bestowed upon the rulers of lesser states (such as Tarhuntassa and Carchemish). These were kings directly involved in the Hittite hegemony, in one case inside Anatolia. In this light we can see that Hattusilis’ conciliatory and flattering diplomacy towards ‘my brother the great king of Ahhiyawa’ is more likely to be a sign of his need to control the fringes of his empire by negotiation rather than by war: a hazardous gamble given the shifting sands of west Anatolian politics.

So are we any nearer pinning down the exact date of the Trojan War? In the first edition of this book, it was pointed out that the Hittite tablets describe the king of Ahhiyawa intervening directly or indirectly on the shores of western Anatolia in at least two instances, in the Seha River land and in Wilusa (
see here
). In the latter case the Hittite king says ‘we made war’ or ‘we were in enmity.’ Plainly this now has to be taken seriously by scholars. Two further points may be relevant here. Hittite hegemony in western Anatolia collapsed at least twice in the early thirteenth century BC: once at the start of Muwatalli’s reign in 1296; again some time early in Hattusilis’ reign (
c
.1263–1261). Then, as I pointed out, Hittite troubles in their western regions may have
coincided with a major attack by the Assyrians in the upper Euphrates which took them right up to the gates of Carchemish: this took place in around 1262/1 BC and could be referred to in a fragmentary text which mentions Egypt, Carchemish, Ahhiyawa and Pijamaradus (perhaps then from the same time as Hattusilis’ campaign to Miletus).

Now the paleography and orthography of the Hittite tablets are not yet certain, and because of the fragmentary state of many tablets, their authorship is still debated; for example, the most crucial document in the whole series, the Tawagalawas letter, has lost its top, so we cannot be sure of its date. If the king in the letter is indeed Hattusilis as I suggested in my first edition – and
if
Wilusa is Troy – then we might indeed speculate that the Trojan War took place in the period 1275–1260. If, though, the letter were from Muwatalli, then we would have to put the fall of Troy VI back perhaps to the 1280s, and certainly pre-1272 (which is still acceptable on the earlier date now proposed for the beginning of LH III B pottery, namely before 1300 BC).

This last solution has some points in its favour. It is suggested by the letter of Manapa-Tarhundas, king of the Seha River land, which, as we have seen, most likely lay south of the Troad in the Caïcus valley; the letter dates from Muwatallis’ reign but possibly the latter half, i.e. some time between 1285 and 1272. As it stands, the tablet is badly damaged, and does not mention the king of Ahhiyawa, but the main personalities mentioned in the Tawagalawas letter appear here too, which suggests it is describing the same events. Important in this is the island of Lazpa (Lesbos), which is coveted by both sides in the dispute, Hittites and Pijamaradus, and which may be one of the islands ‘given by the Storm God’ to the Ahhiyawan king. In the letter, seven thousand prisoners have been shipped from Lazpa to Millawanda/Miletus, probably with the help of Ahhiyawan ships; at the same time the Seha River land, which is clearly adjacent to Lazpa, has been attacked. This is the background to the beginning of the letter: the king writes that a high-ranking Hittite general has arrived in his country with a Hittite army:

Gassus arrived and brought along the Hittite troops and when they set out again to the country of Wilusa in order to attack it [or ‘to attack it again’ or ‘to launch a counterattack’] I however fell ill, I am seriously ill, unable to move … When Pijamaradus had humiliated me, he set Atpas against me: he [Pijamaradus] attacked the land of Lazpa.

Later the king mentions ‘raids and counter-raids’ but the text is too broken for us to determine the outcome. Now Gassus appears in other letters of this time employed in the military sphere; he is a high-ranking general reporting on fortress inspections and detailing attacks on enemy fortresses; he appears in the company of kings and may even have been the C-in-C of the Hittite army. Clearly General Gassus has come west on the orders of the Hittite king, the now-ageing Muwatalli. He has come to the Seha River land in order to attack Wilusa; or (given that Wilusa is a loyal vassal of Hatti in the contemporary Alaksandus treaty) to attack a pretender to the throne of Wilusa; or to confront an enemy who is in possession of Wilusa (for example, Pijamaradus and his allies, who include the king of Ahhiyawa).

The events in this letter could well be those referred to in the Tawagalawas letter, even if it was written some time later. (Pijamaradus’ career, for example, may well have lasted many years;the troubles over Wilusa may have been prolonged over the reign of more than one Wilusan king). But the facts given here about Gassus’ expedition give considerable support to the idea that the hostilities over Wilusa mentioned in the Tawagalawas letter may have taken place late in Muwatalli’s reign. In my first edition I suggested a date of 1275–1260 as a working hypothesis, with Hattusilis involved, directly or indirectly, either as Great King of Hatti, or in his youth as his brother’s generalissimo soon after the battle of Kadesh. This is still possible, but the Manapa-Tarhundas letter suggests a date no later than 1272, and possibly up to a decade or so earlier. This alternative would fit with the archaeology, with the details in the Tawagalawas letter and even with the strange tradition from Caria that ‘Motylos,’ that is
Muwatalli, was the ally of Paris–Alexandros. Further research will no doubt clarify these matters.

In conclusion, then, the hypothesis of a historical Troy and Trojan War is now stronger. On this reading of the evidence, Hisarlik was a long-lived city at the mouth of the Dardanelles. It lay at the intersection of the great tin route across the Hellespont between the Balkans and Anatolia. It controlled a rich agricultural plain, and dominated the sea route to the Sea of Marmara, with its large bay which was a natural gathering place for ships making the slow journey against current and wind into the narrows. Finally, it may also have controlled Besika Bay, the last anchorage for boats before the Dardanelles, and the unloading point for merchandise to be transshipped by land to the Sea of Marmara.

This strongly fortified and ancient city was evidently ruled by a long-lasting dynasty throughout the Late Bronze Age. It stood on the edge of the Hittite and Aegean spheres of influence, quite far removed from both. The Hittite archives show that the emperors in Boghaz Köy sometimes claimed suzerainty over these western lands – and on occasions reached the Aegean Sea in person; sometimes, though, their hegemony receded and the best they could manage was rule through alliances with friendly states who made treaties and ‘sent ambassadors.’ This was not an empire in our sense then, but a segmentary state whose authority declined rapidly towards its outer fringes.

As the Hittite records show, it was on these outer fringes that the King of Ahhiyawa’s influence was felt: in the coastlands, archipelagos and peninsulas of the eastern Aegean; in cities such as Millawanda and Wilusa; in islands such as Lesbos; in the fertile valleys of the west Anatolian rivers, Maeander, Cayster, Hermos, Caïcus and Scamander. Slowly extending this influence, taking ‘your islands which the Storm God has given to me,’ the Ahhiyawan king made himself a force to be feared in Hatti when he began to interfere directly with Hittite client states on the Aegean shore. According to the Hittite diplomatic archive, they and the Ahhiyawans came to blows over Wilusa in the first half
of the thirteenth century BC, the period of the height of Mycenaean power. This is precisely the time when Greek Linear B tablets record Asiatic women seized on plundering raids from these shores, and as we have seen, this may be part of the context of the war: a ‘heroic’ warrior society replenishing its slave workforce and rewarding the heavily armed followings of its kings and sub-kings. The attack on Troy, though, was not merely to seize captives from the countryside, but part of a major campaign against the ancient and strong citadel of a powerful dynasty. Of any other motive we are none the wiser, and are likely to remain so.

But, in conclusion, it is safe to say, given the progress of the latest excavations in the Troad, that the search for the Trojan War is far from over. Exciting discoveries will no doubt continue to be made. In particular, the new exploration of the site offers the real possibility now of the identity of the place being decided. We know that the kings of the Hittites exchanged letters with Ahhiyawa and Wilusa; we know merchants in Greece and Hatti also used written archives. The find of a perfectly preserved bronze copy of a treaty at Boghaz Köy in 1986 only underlines the likelihood of further texts turning up which will reveal more about events in western Anatolia in the thirteenth century BC. It is not even beyond the bounds of possibility that tablets will be discovered in the lower town by Hisarlik itself, which may at least establish the name of the site first excavated by Schliemann. It is of course premature to suggest that the long search for the historicity of Troy and the Trojan War may be nearing a climax; but we may now be reaching the point where the intersection of history and myth can be firmly delineated.

The plain of Troy – the ‘tomb of Ajax’ and the mouth of the Scamander, with Imbros behind, in the eighteenth century. ‘The noblest situation for the head of a great Empire,’ wrote Lady Wortley Montague in 1718, admiring ‘the exact geography of Homer’.