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The evaluation of the various types of source materials for demographic history faces fundamental problems that are also unique to the field of ancient history on the whole: gaps and coincidences in the body of tradition firstly pose the question of how representative available materials are. It must also be noted that the sources available to us were only rarely created for the primary purpose of demographic statistics, but far more often primarily for fiscal, judicial, military, and administrative purposes and to facilitate economic organization.

Information on the demographic parameters of the Achaemenid Empire is rudimentary at best. What we have comes from a variety of sources, and the numbers they provide us with are highly controversial. As far as the total population of the Achaemenid Empire is concerned, a presentation of two different demographic tables reveals the problems of such calculations (Table 2.1)

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Table 2.1 Modern Estimates of the Population of the Achaemenid empire (McEvedy and Jones 1978: p. 125 (low estimates) and Aperghis 2004: pp. 56–58 (high estimates; cf. also Aperghis 2001: pp. 73–77). Scheidel 2007: p. 63 gives 20 000 000–25 000 000 inhabitants).

Area	Region population
Low estimates
Egypt	c. 3 500 000
Near East (without Arabia)	c. 12 000 000
Central Asia and India	c. 1 500 000
Whole empire	c. 17 000 000
High estimates
Mesopotamia	c. 5–6 000 000
Bactria/Sogdiana	c. 2 000 000
Margiana	c. 500 000
Central and eastern Persis	c. 500 000
Susiana and western Persis	c. 1 000 000
Northern Syria	c. 500 000
Cilicia	c. 2 000 000
Western and southern Asia Minor	c. 5 000 000
Syria/Palestine	c. 1 500 000–2 000 000
Egypt	c. 5–6 000 000
Eastern regions of the empire	At least c. 7 000 000
Whole empire	c. 30–35 000 000

The surviving numerical material must be examined both for its reliability and for its possible topos‐related nature. This is especially true for Greco‐Roman literary sources, which are often enough internally contradictory, stereotypical, or accidental, as well as dependent upon the narrative intentions and the purpose of the author. For example, Herodotus' (3.89) accounts of tributes to the Achaemenid king and of the size of the Persian army and fleet during the so‐called Persian Wars (490–479 BCE) imply a very large population of the empire. More detailed analysis, however, proves that the Halicarnassian's figures are unreliable. Both his list of nomoi and the figures he gives for the tribute are not dependent on Persian sources (cf. Jacobs 1994: pp. 93–97; Ruffing 2009). His description of the size of the army is based on both Homer's epics and Hecataeus' ethnographical work, and the figures he lists for the number of soldiers and ships are based on patterns that express nothing but relations of magnitude (Bichler 2000: pp. 323–327). Finally, by exaggerating the size of the Persian army throughout Greek history, authors such as Herodotus, Xenophon, and the historians of Alexander the Great magnify the Greeks' military achievements to make them seem exceptionally glorious. The authors of the fourth century BCE in particular succeeded in making the Persian opponent appear extremely daunting, but only because of the sheer size of its army (whose members had allegedly been coerced by the Great King to serve and fight) and not because of any bravery on the part of the soldiers or the tactical skills of their commanders.

Apart from those foreign texts, research on the demographic parameters of the Persian Empire has so far concentrated on two kinds of evidence: archeological surveys of settlement patterns (especially in the central Mesopotamian floodplain, but also in Judaea, etc.) and epigraphic documentation (mostly also from Babylonian archives). Only recently, and for reasons of reconstructing the economic history of Neo‐Babylonian and Achaemenid Mesopotamia, scholars have intensively dealt with those two kinds of source material. It would be helpful to have those surveys and those assessments of the textual documentation also for other parts of the Persian Empire, e.g. for Egypt (where the evidence should be similarly sufficient to provide some information on demographic parameters. But see Chapter 20 Egypt and Wasmuth 2017. For a demographic study on ancient Egypt on the whole, see Kraus 2004).

Archeological surveys from the beginning of the 1980s, which, however, focused on the whole period from the third millennium to Seleucid‐Parthian times and, as already noted, were concentrated on the central alluvium (Adams 1981), were able to detect (on the basis of a calculation of settlement and population density) a significant population increase not later than the seventh century BCE. Thus, the values for the gross occupied site area rose from the Middle Babylonian (1150–700 BCE) to the Neo‐Babylonian and Achaemenid periods (until 300 BCE) from 616 ha to 1769 ha, the average site size from 4.6 ha to 6.88 ha. From the very obvious increase in large sites (settlements of 10‐plus ha may be described as urban communities) from 36% to 51% of the area in this period, it has been concluded that “we are dealing with fairly abrupt, probably state‐directed, policies of settlement formation in the case of the urban communities” (Adams 1981: p. 178). Table 2.2 underlines this development (for the original table, see Jursa 2010: p. 40).

Table 2.2 Settlement development 2100 BCE – CE 200.

Site size	Ur III‐Isin‐Larsa	Old Babylonian	Kassite	Middle Babylonian	Neo‐Babylonian‐Achaemenid	Seleucid‐Parthian
200.1+ ha	2	1	—	—	—	2
40.1–200 ha	11	7	4	1	5	4
20.1–40 ha	10	7	2	3	6	15
10.1–20 ha	16	10	7	2	19	34
4.1–10 ha	57	45	59	28	70	95
0.1–4 ha	143	108	165	100	157	265
(Total)	239 (2725)	178 (1791)	237 (1308)	134 (616)	257 (1769)	415 (2955)
Average site size (ha)	11.4	10.06	5.52	4.6	6.88	7.12

As far as the irrigation systems are concerned, a marked shift, starting in the Neo‐Babylonian period, has been postulated from locally regulated canal systems toward a centrally planned and maintained irrigation system with large canals and a markedly enlarged acreage (which, however, can only be recognized in reality for the Sasanian period). This hypothesis is said to be supported by evidence that points to high fees levied for the use of irrigation “water from state‐owned canals” in the Achaemenid‐controlled alluvium of the fifth century BCE, and that in turn “seems to imply an awareness of possibilities of economic expansion that were tied to an ascending rate of state investment in the irrigation infrastructure” (Adams 1981: p. 246).

It has recently rightly been pointed out that each model of the Neo‐Babylonian (and Achaemenid) economy (and population development) has to be based on those studies. At the same time, however, scholars have pinpointed the problems (partly already referred to by the author of the surveys himself) of the evidence and the methods of investigation employed: the dating uncertainties (of the pottery involved), the non‐consideration of the area where the majority of the most important Neo‐Babylonian urban centers were located (along the new western course of the Euphrates), and of the territories (in western and southeastern Babylonia) that represented the centers of the Chaldean tribes. The fivefold increase in the population between 700 BCE and 300 BCE postulated in the 1981 surveys is now regarded as too high, although it remains unclear by how much. Nevertheless, the following trends may be stated for the Neo‐Babylonian and Achaemenid periods: “demographic growth, an increasing degree of urbanisation, agrarian expansion and the role of the state” (Jursa 2010: p. 42). These are trends that, for the sixth century BCE, find their expression also in a significant increase in economic activity (which in turn is suggested by the extent of the written documentation) and the great Neo‐Babylonian building projects (Jursa 2010: p. 42).

As for late Persian period Judah, both excavations and surveys (of settlements and administrative‐oriented sites) have proven that this political entity must have been “a rural province with no more than half the number of settlements as the late Iron Age” (Lipschits and Tal 2007: p. 47. See also Lipschits 2003, 2005, passim). Conversely, no change can be observed between late Persian and early Hellenistic Yehud as far as settlement patterns, territory, and the organization of the administrative system are concerned.

Persian imperialism did not lead to the development of new megatowns (like Babylon) but rather to the adjustment to Persian needs of existing royal centers such as Babylon, Susa, Sardis, and Ecbatana. Still, the Achaemenids contributed significantly to the process of urbanization in the Ancient Near East by promoting satrapal capitals as regional centers (thereby following an Assyrian program) and by investing revenues in constructing new royal cities in their home province of Fars (Persepolis, Pasargadae, Matezzish). Since the “itinerant ruler” was a particular feature of Achaemenid kingship (Briant 1988; Tuplin 1998), Persian residences (note the kings' self‐portrayal as master builders, hunters, and gardeners) were marked by special architectural and landscaped constituents (palaces, fortifications, administrative buildings – open spaces for tents, gardens, and game parks [paradeisoi]).

Babylonian epigraphic documentation from Neo‐Babylonian and Persian times (mostly from temple archives) is unable to match the value that the several hundred census returns on papyrus from Roman Egypt (Bagnall and Frier 1994) of the first three centuries CE have for Greco‐Roman demography (e.g. as a testimony for a supposed mean life expectancy at birth of between 20 and 30 years). However, it gives information on the active life span of craftsmen working for the temple (25 years), their cooperation with their fathers (for three to five years), and thus their age at marriage (on average below 19 years; in Roman Egypt: just above 25), thereby (roughly) corresponding with the Life Table Model West, Level 2 (Coale and Demeny 1983). Babylonian ration lists, mostly from the fourth century BCE, suggest a mean number of 3.4 adolescent children for average males (which would lead to a total of 7.73 births according to the Life Table quoted above). Other results of demographic research on Neo‐Babylonian and Achaemenid Babylonia are: life expectancy at birth for men – roughly 20.5 years (at the age of 20: until the age of 48; Roman Egypt: 25 and 50.7 respectively); age at marriage for females: about 14–15 years (for the demographic parameters of the Babylonian epigraphic evidence see Jursa 2010: pp. 37–39).

At first sight, the Persepolis Fortification Archive (for the Archive see Briant et al. 2008; Henkelman 2008: pp. 65–179) seems to be a quite meaningful demographic corpus. However, recent scholarly contributions have clearly proven the pitfalls and biases of the material in that respect (Henkelman 2008: pp. 79–85). For example, attempts to estimate the population of Fars or even only the number of workers involved in the “Persepolis economy” are highly problematic. First, we see only a part of the administrative‐economic system, and we have no idea how large this part really was. Second, the numbers of the workers mentioned in the Elamite “Fortification Tablets” from Persepolis that have been published so far are also problematic; not even in combination with later historians' praise of the fertility and population density of Persis do they enable us to estimate the size of the population of the core province of the empire. The groups of workers mentioned in the texts are not separate units; thus, certain (anonymous) workers might appear in different groups on different occasions. The manual workers and craftsmen employed there were actually members of a special labor force, recruited from all over the empire to serve the king in Fars. The proportion of men to women indicates no more than that some of these workers must have lived in family groups (against Aperghis' view of an underfeeding of male workers (Aperghis 2000; see Tuplin 2008: 319 f). The ratio of different generations does not match other ancient demographic patterns, and an assessment of living and work spaces minimizes the numerical data's meaningfulness. But by looking at a special case (special rations for mothers) (Brosius 1996: pp. 171–178) and at Greek testimonies of the royal policy of reproduction (Hdt. 1.135 f; Str. 15.3.17), it becomes obvious that Persian rulers were interested in the greatest possible number of potential soldiers, officials, and workers (Briant 2002: 277 ff).

What we urgently need are reconstructions of human‐climate‐ecosystem interactions in different parts of the empire to be able to ask questions the answers to which might also lead to demographic insights.¹ For Fars, for example, those questions might be: What was the environmental context in which (i) the mobile agro‐pastoralism and nomadism gave way to sedentary lifestyle, and (ii) the first highland urban centers established in the continental Middle East? How did human societies react to climate change and drought events? Were people aware of human‐caused ecosystem change? How did human societies react to ecosystem change caused by anthropogenic disturbance? What was the spatial pattern of agro‐pastoral practices and social organization within the capital area of the empire? What was the impact of major historical events on the dominant lifestyle during the historical period?

One of the most important branches of (ancient) demography is the study of population movements (Hahn 2012; Schunka and Olshausen 2010). However, the paucity of quantifiable evidence and the biases of some of the sources make demographic approaches and attempts of that kind again a difficult and dangerous undertaking. As for the Persian Empire, both the Greek and the indigenous evidence assign much relevance to Achaemenid “forced” or “involuntary migration” as a demographic factor. However, most of the classical reports on cases of deportations or population transfers have to be evaluated against their respective historical background (e.g. the stories of the alleged massacre of the Branchidae by Alexander III or the deportations following the falls of Miletus [494 BCE] and Eretria [490 BCE]), the literary or political traditions they are part of, and their authors' intentions (cf. Olshausen 1997; Kehne 2009). Even the more reliable testimonies of the indigenous administrative evidence (cf. the famous case of the Caro‐Egyptians in Borsippa [Waerzeggers 2006]; cf. also the hatru collectives in Babylonia, organized in terms of their duties, customers, or place of origin, and the abovementioned kurtash of the Persepolis texts) call for sober historical explanations and an evaluation in light of a long Ancient Near Eastern tradition of forced migration.² Besides, scholars have underlined that deportations should be distinguished from other, somewhat similar sanctions that may occur together with them, for example expropriation and massacre, exile of individuals and their families or adherents, enslavement or military conscription of conquered peoples, and forced sedentarization of nomads. However, there is little to suggest that further studies will be able to provide forced migration statistics (including the numbers of people from Greece and other countries who sought refuge with the Great King and his satraps).

The same holds true for an evaluation of transfers of army personnel, immigration, voluntary movements over long or short distances (settlers, colonists, etc.), seasonal migration, or migration from urban centers to rural areas or vice versa. The relative peace and safety on Persian‐controlled routes and waterways did surely facilitate the voluntary movements of people eager to change places (traders, settlers, etc.). The royal distribution of land and property to Iranian and non‐Iranian officials and officers in newly acquired territories and the service of Achaemenid garrison troops in places far away from their homes also influenced demographic conditions. After all, both of these migratory measures led to the development of an Iranian cultural “diaspora,” especially in Hellenistic and Roman Asia Minor (for Achaemenid Anatolia and its Nachleben see Dusinberre 2013).