Trapped by Tradition:
Strabo, Arrian, and the Geography of
India
Lee E. Patterson (Centre College)
Alexander the Great’s conquest of India,
though temporary, opened up the Indus valley to Greek understanding in
unprecedented ways. Much information that began to spread across
the Hellenistic world had originated with the observations of several members
of Alexander’s court and army, including Onesicritus, Nearchus, and Megasthenes. Though
they were on hand to provide eye-witness accounts of local flora, fauna,
customs, climate, and so on, bizarre descriptions of these things immediately
began to circulate. And as often happens, such descriptions began
to snowball into claims deemed throughly unpalatable by later scholars,
including the Greek geographer Strabo, writing in the early first century
CE. In his comments about India, Strabo takes these writers to task,
wondering why descriptions of mouthless people, oxen-swallowing snakes,
and gold-mining ants should arise from autopsies of the area, and glumly
concludes that the motivations of these writers are unknowable (2.1.9). And
yet, as James Romm has observed (Edges of the Earth, 99-103), Strabo himself succumbs to same method of
relating the marvelous in his own official treatise on India in Book 15
of his Geography. Having moderated his earlier criticisms with
almost apologetic descriptions of the current state of knowledge about
India (15.1.2-3), Strabo leads us through a long list of marvels for which
he cites the Hellenistic writers (15.1.37), offering none of the dismissals
that constituted his methodology previously.
The question becomes, what motivated Strabo
to follow suit with the same sort of marvel-telling to which he had earlier
objected? The answer was discernible to both Strabo and the historian
Arrian, writing in the second century CE. Both men acknowledge that some
geographical reshuffling had occurred in the wake of Alexander’s conquests,
as when the Caucasus Mountains were moved further east so that Alexander
could claim to have reached the legendary site of Prometheus’ torture (Strabo
11.5.5, Arrian Ana. 5.3.3). But
flattery of Alexander only partially explains it. Both writers also
recognized that such geography answered the powerful call of tradition, that, erroneous though it was, this geography had
been handed down for centuries and had become popular and thus difficult
to break away from (Strabo 11.6.4, Arrian Ana.
5.5.3).
Tradition had a powerful hold on how the
Greeks and Romans represented geography, history (esp. earlier history,
i.e., heroic myth), and other areas. Despite the absurdity of giant
gold-digging ants, Herodotus’ reference to them (3.102) obviously survived
into the Hellenistic accounts. What is said of the distant east can
also be said of the distant past. A healthy skeptism attends the
conceptualization of the heroes by such educated writers as Thucydides,
Aristotle, and Pausanias, who were critical of more fantastical elements
or variants of a “canonical” version of a hero story. And yet even
they accepted the basic historicity of the heroes, partly because their
stories had become traditional and widely accepted in the Greek world. However
much he diverged, the scholar of history or geography could never completely
break away from the conventions of his culture even as he wrestled with
them. The hold of tradition was always present, especially in the
geography of a region so distant that there were fewer checks on scholarly
claims than normal. Strabo and Arrian understood this state of affairs
and were also trapped by it.