{"id":78009,"date":"2023-03-21T01:00:01","date_gmt":"2023-03-21T05:00:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/?p=78009"},"modified":"2024-03-10T20:33:23","modified_gmt":"2024-03-11T00:33:23","slug":"qotd-the-elephant-as-a-weapon-of-war","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/2023\/03\/21\/qotd-the-elephant-as-a-weapon-of-war\/","title":{"rendered":"QotD: The elephant as a weapon of war"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>The pop-culture image of elephants in battle is an awe-inspiring one: massive animals smashing forward through infantry, while men on elephant-back rain missiles down on the hapless enemy. And for once I can surprise you by saying: this isn’t an entirely inaccurate picture. But, as always, we’re also going to introduce some complications into this picture.<\/p>\n

Elephants are \u2013 all on their own \u2013 dangerous animals. Elephants account for several hundred fatalities per year in India even today and even captured elephants are never quite as domesticated as, say, dogs or horses. Whereas a horse is mostly a conveyance in battle (although medieval European knights greatly valued the combativeness of certain breeds of destrier warhorses), a war elephant is a combatant in his own right. When enraged, elephants will gore with tusks and crush with feet, along with using their trunks as weapons to smash, throw or even rip opponents apart (by pinning with the feet). Against other elephants, they will generally lock tusks and attempt to topple their opponent over, with the winner of the contest fatally goring the loser in the exposed belly (Polybius actually describes this behavior, Plb. 5.84.3-4). Dumbo, it turns out, can do some serious damage if prompted.<\/p>\n

Elephants were selected for combativeness, which typically meant that the ideal war elephant was an adult male, around 40 years of age (we’ll come back to that). Male elephants enter a state called “musth<\/em>” once a year, where they show heightened aggressiveness and increases interest in mating. Trautmann (2015) notes a combination of diet, straight up intoxication and training used by war elephant handlers to induce musth<\/em> in war elephants about to go into battle, because that aggression was prized (given that the signs of musth<\/em> are observable from the outside, it seems likely to me that these methods worked).<\/p>\n

(Note: In the ancient Mediterranean, female elephants seem to have also been used, but it is unclear how often. Cassius Dio (Dio 10.6.48) seems to think some of Pyrrhus’s elephants were female, and my elephant plate shows a mother elephant with her cub, apparently on campaign. It is possible that the difficulty of getting large numbers of elephants outside of India caused the use of female elephants in battle; it’s also possible that our sources and artists \u2013 far less familiar with the animals than Indian sources \u2013 are themselves confused.)<\/p>\n

Thus, whereas I have stressed before that horses are not<\/em> battering rams, in some sense a good war elephant is. Indeed, sometimes in a very literal sense \u2013 as Trautmann notes, “tearing down fortifications” was one of the key functions of Indian war elephants, spelled out in contemporary (to the war elephants) military literature there. A mature Asian elephant male is around 2.75m tall, masses around 4 tons and is much more sturdily built than any horse. Against poorly prepared infantry, a charge of war elephants could simply shock them out of position a lot of the time \u2013 though we will deal with some of the psychological aspects there in a moment.<\/p>\n

A word on size<\/strong>: film and video-game portrayals often oversize their elephants \u2013 sometimes, like the Mumakil<\/em> of Lord of the Rings<\/em>, this is clearly a fantasy creature, but often that distinction isn’t made. As notes, male Asian (Indian) elephants are around 2.75m (9ft) tall; modern African bush elephants are larger (c. 10-13ft) but were not used for war. The African elephant which was<\/strong> trained for war was probably either an extinct North African species or the African forest elephant (c. 8ft tall normally) \u2013 in either case, ancient sources are clear that African war elephants were smaller<\/em> than Asian ones.<\/p>\n

Thus realistic war elephants should be about 1.5 times the size of an infantryman at the shoulders (assuming an average male height in the premodern world of around 5’6?), but are often shown to be around twice as tall if not even larger. I think this leads into a somewhat unrealistic assumption of how the creatures might function in battle, for people not familiar with how large actual elephants really are.<\/p>\n

The elephant as firing platform is also a staple of the pop-culture depiction \u2013 often more strongly emphasized because it is easier to film. This is true to their use, but seems to have always been a secondary role from a tactical standpoint \u2013 the elephant itself was always more dangerous than anything someone riding it could carry.<\/p>\n

There is a social status issue at play here which we’ll come back to […] The driver of the elephant, called a mahout<\/em>, seems to have typically been a lower-status individual and is left out of a lot of heroic descriptions of elephant-riding (but not driving) aristocrats (much like Egyptian pharaohs tend to erase their chariot drivers<\/em> when they recount their great victories). Of course, the mahout<\/em> is the fellow who actually knows how to control the elephant, and was a highly skilled specialist. The elephant is controlled via iron hooks called ankusa<\/em>. These are no joke \u2013 often with a sharp hook and a spear-like point \u2013 because elephants selected for combativeness are, unsurprisingly, hard to control. That said, they were not<\/strong> permanent ear-piercings or anything of the sort \u2013 the sort of setup in Lord of the Rings<\/em> is rather unlike the hooks used.<\/p>\n

In terms of the riders<\/em>, we reach a critical distinction. In western media, war elephants almost always<\/em> appear with great towers on their backs \u2013 often very elaborate towers, like those in Lord of the Rings<\/em> or the film Alexander<\/em> (2004). Alexander<\/em>, at least, has it wrong. The howdah<\/em> \u2013 the rigid seat or tower on an elephant’s back \u2013 was not an Indian innovation and doesn’t appear in India until the twelfth century (Trautmann supposes, based on the etymology of howdah<\/em> (originally an Arabic word) that this may have been carried back into India by Islamic armies). Instead, the tower was a Hellenistic idea (called a thorkion<\/em> in Greek) which post-dates<\/strong> Alexander (but probably not by much).<\/p>\n

This is relevant because while the bowmen riding atop elephants in the armies of Alexander’s successors seem to be lower-status military professionals, in India this is where the military aristocrat fights<\/strong>. […] this is a big distinction, so keep it in mind. It also illustrates neatly how the elephant itself was the primary weapon \u2013 the society that used these animals the most never really got around to creating a protected firing position on their back because that just wasn’t very important.<\/p>\n

In all<\/em> cases, elephants needed to be supported by infantry (something Alexander<\/em> (2004) gets right!) Cavalry typically cannot effectively support elephants for reasons we’ll get to in a moment. The standard deployment position for war elephants was directly in front of an infantry force (heavy or light) \u2013 when heavy infantry was used, the gap between the two was generally larger, so that the elephants didn’t foul the infantry’s formation.<\/p>\n

Infantry support covers for some of the main weaknesses elephants face, keeping the elephants from being isolated and taken down one by one. It also places an effective exploitation force which can take advantage of the havoc the elephants wreck on opposing forces. The “elephants advancing alone and unsupported<\/a>” formation from Peter Jackson’s Return of the King<\/em>, by contrast, allows the elephants to be isolated and annihilated (as they subsequently are in the film).<\/p>\n

Bret Devereaux, “Collections: War Elephants, Part I: Battle Pachyderms”, A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry<\/em><\/a>, 2019-07-26.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The pop-culture image of elephants in battle is an awe-inspiring one: massive animals smashing forward through infantry, while men on elephant-back rain missiles down on the hapless enemy. And for once I can surprise you by saying: this isn’t an entirely inaccurate picture. But, as always, we’re also going to introduce some complications into this […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":35193,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[62,7,23,5,41],"tags":[1327,1457,1102,1103,868,122,1348],"class_list":["post-78009","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-europe","category-history","category-india","category-military","category-quotations","tag-alexanderthegreat","tag-bretdevereaux","tag-cavalry","tag-infantry","tag-jrrtolkien","tag-movies","tag-warsofthediadochi"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/favicon.png","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2hpV6-kid","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/78009","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=78009"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/78009\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":80827,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/78009\/revisions\/80827"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/35193"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=78009"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=78009"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=78009"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}