King Khosrau II’s Role in Collapse

I am King Khosrau II, the last mighty king of Persia to enjoy a lengthy reign. I had the wit and might to lead armies and to command nations to do my bidding. But I have the skill, intelligence and cunning of a sly fox: this is what kept me alive. This is the single most important key to my survival: knowing when to advance against my enemy and knowing when and how to retreat. Most men perish because of their blindness. They overestimate their strength and underestimate their enemy. My father under-estimated me, so I blinded him and had him killed. In the end, I met the same end that my father met before me: he was killed by his son.

I fled during a long war with the Byzantine Empire in which my life was in danger. When I returned, I enjoyed many years unperturbed. Once a friend to Christianity, I turned against it and came to embrace Zoroastrianism. When Muhammad entreated that I convert to Islam, I pompously ripped his letter to shreds and demanded that he be brought to me. That was a dreadful mistake that I greatly regret. As it turns out, my very wealthy and successful empire was very weak with a large mountain of debt to foreign friends and being controlled by foreign powers. I was only a figurehead and my country was very internally weak.

Constantinople, once an ally, murdered my friend Maurice and his family. The alliance ended immediately; I suppose I never really liked him all that much anyway. My borders to the east were safe, so, I declared war on Phocas and began chipping off pieces of Constantinople’s empire. I employed only the best rhetoric noting that I have a divine and royal right to rebuild a great empire. I felt justified in all of my advances, I plundered everything without resistance.

I became distracted in my attempts to persecute Christians. I massacred thousands of them and in a defense of Constantinople, the Avars were defeated and I had to withdraw. I had officially bitten off more than I could chew and all victories were for nothing. We couldn’t stand up against a counterattack against Constantinople’s navy and they seized upon our capital. Poor planning, egocentrism and disloyalty led to my fall. I was imprisoned and killed by my own son after watching eighteen sons executed before my eyes.