It happened a very long time ago—around 2,600 years in the past—when the world was dominated by two formidable powers. Calling them mere kingdoms would be an understatement—they were the greatest empires of the ancient world. One was Lydia, the other Media. While parts of these empires bordered regions that are now China and India, their reach extended so widely that it still amazes historians today how these vast realms, over centuries, managed to maintain remarkable standards of justice, governance, wisdom, and public welfare—achievements that even medieval and modern societies often fail to match.
In today’s article, I want to briefly explain why the Lydian and Median empires came to mind before moving on to the main topic. I lack the words or the inclination to describe what I have heard about the death, funeral, and burial of Awami League minister—formerly of a fascist government—Nurul Majid Mahmud Humayun, and the funeral of legendary Bangladeshi politician Tofail Ahmed. The spread of obscenity, indecency, and people worse than animals in every corner of our society has so increased that the connection between humanity and the standards of civilization and culture is rapidly eroding. It is to illustrate this, that I recount the stories of the emperors, their vassals, soldiers, and courts of the two powerful and rival empires of 2,600 years ago.
The story of Lydia and Media begins with the great Solon. When Greek city-states began practicing democracy, the rulers felt the need to draft a constitution for the people. Among the remarkable figures of Athens was Solon. The ruling council, elected by the people and consisting of seven members, often fell into disputes while conducting governance. To resolve this, they agreed to create the first codified constitution in human history and entrusted Solon with the task.
Solon, however, set one condition: the constitution he drafted could not be altered for the next ten years. The council agreed, and Solon quickly drafted the BP 101 Constitution, securing its recognition as the highest law of the state through a referendum, the Athenian parliament, and the cabinet. He then left for a world tour to prevent the council from pressuring him to change it.
During his travels, Solon visited major cities and ports, known as the cultural and civilizational centers of the world at the time, and eventually reached Lydia. At that time, Solon was famous as the greatest poet-philosopher, jurist, politician, and statesman of the world. Lydia, meanwhile, was the richest, most civilized, and most habitable and attractive city. The Lydian king, Croesus, was regarded as the most noble ruler of his era—esteemed worldwide for his lineage, education, benevolence, justice, and religious devotion. When Solon arrived in Lydia, the entire kingdom buzzed with excitement, and the news reached the royal court.
The king’s courtiers invited Solon to the royal court and wished to honor him, and King Croesus extended an invitation to Solon for a dinner in his inner palace (harem). As customary, after the court formalities, Solon and King Croesus met at the dinner table that night, and something unprecedented occurred—Solon said things no sage in the world had ever said before, and King Croesus did things no king or courtier had ever done.
Before the dinner began, Solon was shown the entire palace: the king’s beautiful wives, servants, elephants and horses, the royal treasury, and 300 years of the royal lineage’s colorful history—nothing was omitted. As they dined on the world’s finest food, King Croesus said, “O great Solon, you have traveled to many lands, seen many people, and heard countless stories. Tell me, who do you consider the happiest person in the world?” Solon promptly named an obscure individual. Croesus was disappointed; he had expected Solon to name him. When asked for the second happiest person, Solon again named someone else. Finally, when Croesus asked for the third, his own name was not mentioned, and he said, “Great sage! I have ruled a vast empire for 15 years with peace, the strongest army, efficient officials, wealth, victories, good health, a beautiful queen, and yet you do not consider me happy?”
Solon replied, “Your Majesty, the people I named as happy are all dead. I call them happy because happiness can only be truly judged at the end of life. Sometimes, events occur that make a person who seemed ordinary during their life the happiest at the end. Conversely, someone who lived in wealth and power may meet such a fate in their final moments that all their achievements are destroyed, leaving them unfortunate.”
Croesus lost his temper, saying, “I have done everything to honor and please you, yet you speak cruel words, throwing my lifetime of achievements and love into the fire. I have never thought ill of anyone, never scolded anyone, but after meeting you, I realize there is no one more ungrateful, rude, or ill-minded than you.” With that, Croesus insulted Solon and expelled him from the palace.
A few months later, Croesus learned that a young king named Cyrus was rising in Media, planning to turn it into an empire. Croesus’s spies reported that, in terms of size, power, and strength, Lydia and Media were like modern-day India vs. Bhutan or the U.S. vs. Cuba. Croesus, filled with anger and jealousy, marched with a massive army toward Media in 547 BCE.
Arriving at the Halys River on Media’s border, Croesus awaited the oracle of Delphi for guidance. The priests gave an ambiguous prophecy, which Croesus interpreted as a guarantee of victory. Confident, he crossed the river and launched an unexpected attack, only to be captured by Media’s King Cyrus. When the news spread among the Lydian troops, panic broke out, and the soldiers fled in all directions.
The defeated Croesus was shackled, and Cyrus ordered him to be burned alive on a funeral pyre. As Croesus walked slowly toward the blazing fire, he remembered Solon’s words from months before and looked to the sky, murmuring, “Is this possible?”
The writer is former Member of Parliament and Political Analyst
