The Lion and The Elephant

Guest post by Theo Taylor.

In 326 BC, the Macedonian Empire of Alexander the Great spanned most of what was considered the known world. Maps of civilization sparsely reached beyond the phalanx laced tendrils of Alexander's empire. From Macedonia in Northern Greece to the banks of the Hydaspes River in modern day India, there was no worldly power present that could best Alexander.

Alexander was a known conqueror, but there exists--even to this day--a hotly contested debate on his competencies as a statesman. On the very border of the Nanda Empire of India, Alexander stumbled most greatly when his ability to politicize his ambitions was met by mutiny by his own army. Having campaigned for nearly a decade, the Macedonian army was fraught with men who began to know and understand quandaries that a legend of their own literature--Ulysses and his long journey home--had suffered himself: home sickness, campaign fatigue and demoralization. The men under Alexander had marched over fifteen hundred kilometers from Pella in Macedon to the very border of India. Imagine setting out from Los Angeles on foot, your destination: Dallas. This is the burden of the Macedonian soldier under the Lion of Macedon.

The campaign in India faltered at the behest of men weary of combat and perhaps the realization that the man they followed carried with him an endless ambition. "Just one more empire," you could imagine Alexander shouting to the assembled ranks of his men. "Just one more empire and we'll turn back." There would be no turning back. Scholars who were present during Alexander's campaigns in Persia allude to the idea that Alexander believed the fathomed "end of the world" rested on the opposite edge of India's great mass. It can be said with some admirable clarity however that once he realized he was wrong, he might've shrugged his shoulders and ordered his men further on. Just one more empire.

Not only were these men left longing for their wives, sons and brothers at home, Macedonian scouts had returned from the further Ganges river with reports of armies under the Nanda Empire awaiting them. Two hundred thousand infantry, eighty thousand horsemen and four thousand war elephants. The forty-thousand man Macedonian Army had no hope to defeat such a vast foe.

The reality is that Alexander was presented with only one option when his men threw down their arms at the banks of the Hydapses: relent. Without an army, Alexander was no conqueror, no champion, no son of Zeus. If ever Alexander possessed a heel akin to the legendary hero Achilles, it was the loyalty of the Macedonian Army. A Macedonian general, Coenus, was allegedly one of the more prominent proponents for turning back and returning home. So bold was Coenus' speech, Alexander agreed that the campaign would end in India. But what if such fate had been kinder to Alexander's ambitions?

Coenus was a reliable commander of one of Alexander's distinct phalanxes. Imagine instead that Coenus falls in battle, either at the Hydaspes or in a previous battle against the Achaemenid Empire. His absence will cast the mutinous lot without a distinct voice to reason with Alexander. Consider this second--albeit less important point of divergence: the Battle of Hydaspes goes entirely in the favor of Alexander the Great. This feat is more probable than Coenus' unlikely death. The Battle on the Hydaspes River was the most brutal of Alexander's entire campaign, with an entire thousand men dead. Considering modern bouts such as Stalingrad and the Somme, a thousand dead seems a pittance. Even in stark comparison to similar ancient battles of Cannae and Lake Trebia (both stunning victories by the Carthaginian general Hannibal), a thousand dead might be at very best an expectation. No, these kind of casualties gave very genuine concern to the average foot soldier in Alexander's comparatively sized field army.

Outnumbered three to one, Alexander faced off against an army--like the Persians--that was under armored, under equipped and intending to use overwhelming force to win the day. Against the long reaching sarissas of the phalanx, it was only a matter of time before they broke. Porus, the king of the Paurava Kingdom that called the Hydaspes River home, was captured. His two sons, his uncle Spitakes and the majority of his commanders were killed. Over 12,000 Indians met their end with almost an equal amount wounded.

The Macedonians were victorious, but it had been earned. The Indians utilized mighty elephants, clad in armored harnesses that often deflected javelin and arrow shot. The Indians fought with tenacity and were led by men that did not flee at the first sign of defeat.

Plutarch later said this of the Macedonians' perspective after the battle had been won: "But this last combat with Porus took off the edge of the Macedonians' courage, and stayed their further progress into India. For having found it hard enough to defeat an enemy who brought but twenty thousand foot and two thousand horse into the field, they thought they had reason to oppose Alexander's design of leading them on to pass the Ganges, too, which they were told was thirty-two furlongs broad and a fathom deep, and the banks on the further side covered with multitudes of enemies."

Had the casualties been lessened, had a more complete victory been won, could Alexander have convinced the men to forge on into the Indian subcontinent? Those unfamiliar with India's daunting history must be reminded here that a mere five years following Alexander's victory at the Hydaspes, the Nanda Empire which sought to oppose Alexander at the Ganges, fell apart completely.

Alexander, with at best a reluctant army, would cross the Hydaspes and make way for the Nanda Empire. The last great foe before reaching the proclaimed "end of the world." The climate of India, a world the likes a Macedonian would have never seen before, might very well become a much more sinister opponent than any Indian army. Thick foliage, flora and fauna so exotic as to be considered alien, and treacherous hazards in the form of razor sharp rocks embedded in deep valleys, jungles so thick to only allow a single man to cross at a time and insects aplenty.

Considering the suffering Alexander's army took through attrition just in returning through the Geodrosian Desert, it's likely he would have suffered similar casualties in a world so distinctly different than the one he was familiar with in the Greek Peninsula and Anatolia.

Militarily, he would have been up against the most terrible armies mustered so far. Historians quote that the Nanda Empire could field over four thousand war elephants, though it's unlikely they could have brought them to bear all at once. Alexander dealt with some forty at the Hydaspes, harassing them with the sarissas of his phalanxes while killing the mahouts who kept the animals under control. Whether or not he could replicate this is uncertain.

How many more battles Alexander would have to win before the Nanda Empire crumbles is the question that determines whether or not Alexander succeeds. Already close to collapse, the Nanda Empire possessed the bottomless manpower to go toe to toe with Alexander, lose battle after battle and remain afloat--if only for a little while. Unfortunately for us--and perhaps thankfully for Alexander--a man named Coenus, on the banks of the Hydaspes in the summer of 325 BC, wasn't to let it be so.

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Theo Taylor is a science fiction writer and essayist. His works have appeared in Asimov's, Every Day Fiction, Aphelion Stories and Thought Catalog. When not penning science fiction stories, he's almost always researching some obscure historical fact or in the gym. Check out his book Rogue Cosmos.

Rule of Cool vs. Historical Accuracy in AH

Happy New Year my dear readers! For my first post of 2012 for the Alternate History Weekly Update, I'm starting the new year the only proper way: with a bang. Today, I'm taking a look at the major stylistic divide in the genre, between those who aim for historical plausibility, and those who toss plausibility out the window in pursuit of what is collectively know as the 'rule of cool'.

Such divides are not unheard of in literature, especially in speculative fiction, typically called the divide between hard and soft fiction. Science Fiction is split between the fairly accessible space operas or future thrillers like Star Wars and the hard science-based works of authors like Asimov. The fantasy genre has factions made up of the fairly lightweight stuff like Harry Potter, and then you have the sprawling detailed epics like Lord of the Rings or A Song of Ice and Fire. So it makes perfect sense that alternate history has its own divide between those who use history to explore historical alternatives and those who prefer to explore some of the more outlandish and unique possibilities of alternate worlds. As you can expect, both have their upsides and downsides, which I hope to explore in depth here today.

I shall start with looking at the sect of the AH community that aims for historical accuracy, the most prominent circles found on the Internet, most notable among them AH.com, the majority of the works of the site striving for plausibility, and the works that do not achieve that are quickly labeled ASB. That aim for accuracy and realism is a trademark of hard AH, the more detailed and researched the work, the better. A main tool of the plausibility supporters is the butterfly effect, which as most of you know, is where the effects of a change to OTL ripples out to the point the entire world is unrecognizable - for example if you have a POD in the War of American Independence, Barrack Obama shouldn't be President of the United States in the present day, because due to butterflies, he shouldn't exist at all. Timelines and stories that strive for such (alternate) historical accuracy are often more focused on the world and societies created by the original POD, allowing a window into a drastically different world, with characters and events typically taking a secondary role.

In direct contrast, groups that spend more focus on creating a cool world with interesting characters, original and historical, with less focus on making it historically accurate. This is typically because these sorts of stories are more traditional with their focus on plot and characters, which is also why it has found commercial success with writers like Harry Turledove and SM Sterling. Being that there is less focus on realism in a lot of stories, this is where many of the genres biggest tropes first came into being, with such examples including zeppelins, steam-punk, balkanized Americas or surviving Byzantine Empires, various wanks and screws, and even the genre staple ISOT scenario. Also, while the stories and timelines that aim for plausibility typically manage to range in quality from middle of the road to superb, for ever wonderful rule of cool AH, you typically have one or two others that are plainly terrible.

But which of the two approaches happens to be the better one? To reiterate, the both have their strengths and their weaknesses, to say nothing of both personal preference of both the writer and the author.

Historically accuracy is obviously favored by many history buffs, simply because thinking of the most plausible alternate worlds and histories makes for not only great mental gymnastics and fictional narratives, but provide greater appreciation or remorse over our own past. Of course, insight alone is not the main reason so many favor the plausibility side, but from the fact so many of these worlds seem detailed, involved, and above all else, real. That realism is the strength of so many of the stories on this side, and one of the reasons that more ASB stories are dismissed, and why the more astute readers will point out that due to the Butterfly effect, Barrack Obama shouldn’t be the leader of the USA in a story where the POD was in 1812. That’s one of the nice things about aiming for historical accuracy is that the shape of the world you're making is grounded mainly in historical fact and realisms, and thus, wiggle room over plot points and details is fairly plausible, if limited.

Of course, with so much focus on the world, many times the characters or plots suffer, or at least take a back seat to the greater world. As a result, too many of these kinds of AH stories read like history books. Of course, depending how much of a plausibility fanatic they are, in that quest for plausibility, writers often dismisses many great narratives as ASB or implausible, forgetting that many of histories most interesting chapters - from Alexander the Great to the Mongol invasions, Adolf Hitler and the Nazis, to even the American republic not only defeating Britain in its quest for independence, but conquering the majority of a continent and becoming a global hegemony in the course of two centuries - at times read like the creations of an overly creative alternate historian.

When one writes according to the rule of cool, it really is an entirely different ball game. Often times historical plausibility will take a backseat, or be ignored entirely, in the pursuit of a grand story with a rich cast of characters and a strange, exciting world. As mentioned before, many of the genres biggest standby tropes, ranging from steam-punk and zeppelins to Teddy Roosevelt being a larger than life hero, got their start in the pulpier AH, and have made their way in to both sides work. If you can ignore how implausible it is to have a front of WWII fought between the USA and CSA, or sky pirates raiding zeppelins in the skies above a shattered 1930s USA, these often make for brisk and memorable reads, especially for those who are not fans of the textbook approach often used in the plausibility school. While it may be unrealistic to see Barrack Obama in a story where, due to butterflies, he shouldn't even exist, having contemporary and historical figures provides a familiar and relatable perspective to many of these stories, plus the added bonus of seeing how historical figures would react in such a world.

One obvious weakness of the rule of cool approach is that often times, people will carry it too far. This can range from the USA invading Britain and winning during the 1860s, Nazis ruling the world, or Joan of Arc coming back to life to fight in WWII (I've seen it happen). Not surprisingly, many of these scenarios are what genre detractors use to bash the greater AH genre, and it has lost many a reader of Alternate History. Another big weakness of the rule of cool approach is that author bias often seeps its way into the story. Sometimes that works well (Say what you will, Harry Turtledove rehashes WWII time after time because he can do it very well), and at other times, it backfires horrifically (How much of SM Sterling's work contains a balkanized USA, a wanked British Empire, a marginalized Christian church and gratuitous amounts of graphic lesbian sex?). In the end, the biggest weakness a lot of these stories and timelines suffer from is lacking that same realism that is so strong in the more plausible stories. At a certain point, having clockwork automatons fighting WWI isn't nearly as personal a story as, say, the despair of a French soldier in the trenches upon hearing the Kaiser's forces had captured Paris.

In short, that divide can be explained simply by the aim of the work. Most plausible AH aims to take a look at history. Most Rule of Cool AH seeks to . In the end, most great AH dabbles in a bit of both.

While there are supporters and detractors to both sides, I myself tend to subscribe to both sides, depending on the work. I can enjoy something pulpy and implausible like Crimson Skies or Harry Turtledove, just as much as I can foam at the mouth over how awful Spike TV’s Alternate History was from both an artistic and historical perspective. It is not mere egotism that I hope to see this approach embraced by the larger alternate history community. Just as Science Fiction can have both Star Wars and the Foundation, and Fantasy can have Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter under its banner, Alternate History can have works that appeal to the history buff and the ravenous reader alike, and so long as the quality of such works remains superb, our genre will only be made better for it.

Soldier, scholar, writer and web-voyeur, Sean CW Korsgaard has been active in the alternate history community since 2006, and was recently elected to succeed Mitro as President of the Alternate History Online Facebook group. In addition to his contributions at the Alternate History Weekly Update, he writes for several websites, including his own, which can be found here.