CRISTO RAUL.ORG
THE SOCRATIC ERA
CHAPTER 62
Twenty-first Tear of War. – Oligarchy of four hundred in Athens.
About a year passed (from September 413 BC to September 412 BC) between the catastrophe of the Athenians at Syracuse and their victory over the Milesians in the landing at Miletus. After the first of these two events, Athena's total ruin seemed imminent and irreparable both to her enemies and to herself. But so amazing, so fast and so energetic had been his advance, that at the moment of the second he was again waging a tolerable fight, even with limited resources and in a purely defensive system, against enemies at the same time more audacious and more numerous that never. . There is no reason to doubt that its foreign policy would have been so much improved if it had not been jeopardized at this critical moment by the betrayal of a fraction of its own citizens, which would have brought it to the brink of the ruin in which it found itself. previously saved. . by the incompetence of their enemies, they begin.
This betrayal had its first impetus from the exiled Alcibiades. I have already told how this energetic and unprincipled man pitched. himself, with characteristic enthusiasm, in Sparta's service, and pointed out to her the best means of aiding Syracuse, inflicting positive harm on Athens, and finally provoking an insurrection among the latter's Ionian allies. connections in Ionia that the rebellion of Chios and Miletus had been determined.
However, over the course of a few months, he severely lost the trust of the Spartans. The rebellion of Athens' Asiatic possessions was not as easy and swift as he had anticipated: Chalkideus, the Spartan general with whom he had worked, was defeated and killed at Miletus; the Endian ephor, who chiefly protected him, held office for only a year, and was succeeded by other ephors in late September or early October, when the Athenians won their second victory at Miletus and were about to blockade the city; while his personal enemy King Agis continued to pursue him. Moreover, there was something so intrinsically selfish, vain, and treacherous in this remarkable man's character that no one could ever count on his faithful cooperation. And when a mishap occurred, that same energy and skill that rarely failed him made those he dealt with more willing to explain away the mishap by assuming he had betrayed them.
Thus, after the defeat at Miletus, King Agis managed to discredit Alcibiades as a traitor to Sparta; so the new Ephors immediately sent an order to General Astyochus to kill him. Alcibiades now had an opportunity to prove the difference between Spartan and Athenian procedures. Though his enemies at Athens were numerous and virulent—with all the advantage, so indescribable in political warfare, of being able to raise against him the cry of irreligion; but the best they could do was to have him called for trial before the Dicastery. In Sparta, with no positive cause for the crime and no sense of judgment, his enemies get an order to have him executed.
However, Alcibiades was ordered to withdraw to Tissaphernes in time. He was probably warned by Astyochus himself, not knowing that so monstrous an act would greatly alienate the Chians and Milesians, nor foreseeing all the disaster that his defection would bring upon Sparta. With that flexibility of character which enabled him to conquer and occupy a new position at the same time, Alcibiades soon found a way to insinuate himself into the confidence of the -Hellenic satrap: a game of double play to which Tissaphernes himself was spontaneously inclined, but for the that the intervention of a skilled Greek negotiator was essential. It was in no way in the Great King's interest (Alcibiades exhorted) to help both parties to the conflict as effectually as it allowed him to destroy the other: he should not bring the Phoenician fleet to the aid of the Lacedaemonians, nor provide those abundant pay that would allow unlimited rates of new Greek forces. It was to feed and prolong the war, making each side an instrument of exhaustion and impoverishment against the other, thus building itself on the ruins of both: first breaking the Athenian Empire into Peloponnesian hands, and then driving out the Peloponnesians themselves. - which could easily be done if they were weakened by a previous protracted battle.
Hitherto Alcibiades, as a Persian adviser, has given advice not inconsistent with the court policy of Susa. But he rarely gave advice without regard to his own advantage, ambition, or dislike. Driven out by the Lacedaemonians, he was now driven to seek restoration in his own land. To achieve this goal it was necessary not only to save them from utter ruin, but to present himself to the Athenians as one who, once restored, would seek the help of Tissaphernes of Lacedaemon to lead Athens astray. Accordingly he further intimated to the satrap that it was in his vital interest not to have land and sea power united in the same hands, whether they be Lacedaemonians or Athenians; however, it would be easier to settle matters with the Athenian empire and claims than with those of Lacedaemon. Athens (he argued) neither sought nor engaged herself to any other end than the subjugation of her own maritime dependencies, so that she would be willing to leave all Asiatic Greeks in the hands of the Great King; while Sparta, renouncing all idea of empire, and ostensibly professing to seek the general disenfranchisement of all Greek cities, could not in the least coherently conspire to deprive the Asiatic Greeks of that privilege. This view seemed to be supported by the objection raised by Theramenes and many of the Peloponnese officials to the first convention held by Chalkideus and Alcibiades with Tissaphernes; later renewed by the objections of Lichas to the second modified convention of Theramenes and accompanied by an indignant protest against the idea of handing over to the Great King all the territories that his predecessors had possessed.
All these last arguments, which Alcibiades tried to instill in the satrap's mind a taste for Athens, were either useless or based on false assumptions. while, on the other hand, the empire of Athens, so long as it retained any empire, would certainly be more formidable to Persia than any effort made by Sparta under the disinterested pretense of liberating the Greek cities generally. Tissaphernes didn't make such a good impression either; though he felt strongly the force of Alcibiades' negative recommendations, that he should not do more than enough for the Peloponnesians to foment war without securing them a quick or decisive success: nay, this duplicity was so favorable to him in his Eastern opinion, Alcibiades need not praise her. The very purpose of the Athenian exile was to help the satrap carry it out; and furnish him with the plausible pretexts and justifications which he should bring forward in lieu of an actual supply of men and money. Alcibiades, founded with Tissaphernes at Magnesia - the same place occupied some fifty years earlier by another equally unprincipled but even more able Athenian exile, Themistocles - served as an interpreter of his views in all his conversations with the Greeks and seemed to complete in his confidence: a disguise he blew to falsely impersonate the Athenians on Samos as having the power to bring Persian wealth to the aid of Athens.
The first payment Tissaphernes made to the Peloponnesians at Miletus immediately after the capture of Iasus and the Amorges rebels was a drachma per capita. But it was announced that henceforth it would be cut in half; a cut for which Alcibiades promised to give reason. The Athenians (he urged) did not give more than half a drachma; not because they could not pay more, but because, on the basis of their long experience in nautical matters, they found that higher wages spoiled the discipline of seafarers, inciting them to excess and intemperance, and inciting them to indulge. of absence, confident that the high salary would bring the men back if they asked for it. Probably not thinking that such subterfuges (applied at a time when Athens was so poor it could not pay half a drachma a head) would persuade anyone, he had Tissaphernes use individual bribes to heighten his effect by reinforcing generals and trierarchs; a mode of reasoning which proved effective in silencing the complaints of all but the single exception of Hermocrates of Syracuse. Regarding other Greek cities requesting financial assistance, and Chios in particular, Alcibiades spoke with less reluctance. Hitherto they had been forced to contribute to Athens (he said), and now that they had got rid of that payment, they could not help bearing equal or greater charges in their own defence. It was nothing less (he added) than sheer affront on the part of the Chians, the wealthiest people in Greece, when they needed a foreign force to protect them, while demanding other means to pay them. At the same time, however, he hinted, to keep hope in the future, that Tissaphernes was waging the war at his own expense; but if shipments from Susa arrived after that, the full salary would be reinstated, with the addition of aid to the Greek cities in any other form that could reasonably be required. To this promise was added the assurance that the Phoenician fleet was now equipped, and would soon be brought to their aid, to give them an advantage which would render resistance futile: an assurance, not only fallacious, but rancorous, has since been employed to deter him. them. of all immediate action and paralyze your navy in its moments of greatest strength and efficiency. Even the reduced pay was awarded so irregularly and the Peloponnesian forces remained so hungry that the satrap's duplicity became apparent to all and was only enforced through his bribery. of the officers
While Alcibiades, as Tissaphernes' agent and confidential interpreter, continued this anti-Peloponnese policy during the autumn and winter of 412-411, partly during the stay of the Peloponnesian fleet in Miletus, partly after it had moved to Cnidus and Rhodes in the at the same time he opened a correspondence with Athenian officials on Samos. His break with the Peloponnese, as well as his supposed service to Tissaphernes, were facts well known among Athenian armaments; and his plan was to obtain restoration and renewed power in his native city, by showing himself competent to bring him the aid and alliance of Persia by his superiority over the spirit of the satrap. However, his hostility to democracy was so well known that he despaired of securing its return unless he could combine it with an oligarchic revolution; Which, incidentally, was no less conducive to his feeling of revenge for the past than his ambition for the future. So he sent a private message to the officers and trierarchs of Samos, some of them no doubt his personal friends, wishing to remember the "best men" in armaments: this was one of the stock phrases among which oligarchs find. the men knew and described themselves, and indicated their eager desire to return among them as citizens and bring Tissaphernes with them as their ally. But he would come only on condition that an oligarchic government be formed; nor would he set foot again in the vile democracy to which he owed his exile.
This was the first germ of that temporary catastrophe which brought Athens so close to absolute ruin, called the Oligarchy of the Four Hundred: a proposal from the same exile who had already so deeply wounded his country by sending Gilipp to Syracuse and the Lacedaemonian garrison to Decelea. Until now no one on Samos had thought of a revolution; but the moment the idea was started, the trierarchs and wealthy men at arms embraced it with enthusiasm. Subverting democracy for their own gain and being rewarded with the treasures of Persia to continue the war against the Peloponnese was a greater measure of fortune than they could ever have hoped for. Amidst the depletion of the public treasury in Athens and the loss of tribute from its dependencies, it was now private landlords, and especially wealthy landlords, who bore the costs of military operations; whence they saw the prospect of relief here, combined with a greater chance of victory. Buoyed by such a tempting promise, a delegation of theirs traveled from Samos to the mainland to speak personally with Alcibiades, who in turn personally renewed his assurances that he would bring not only Tissaphernes, but the Great King himself, into active cooperation with Athens. , as long as they overthrew Athenian democracy, in which the king claimed to be unreliable. He certainly did not fail to present the other side of the alternative; that if the proposal were rejected, Persian aid would be wholeheartedly thrown into the balance of the Peloponnesus; If so, Athens had no hope of safety.
When the delegation returned with these new assurances, the men of the oligarchy gathered on Samos, in greater numbers and with redoubled zeal, to take measures to undermine democracy. They even dared to speak openly about the project in the armored crowd, who listened only reluctantly; but that they were at least, if not satisfied, silenced on being told that the Persian treasure would be revealed to them on condition, and only on condition, that they renounced their democracy. So great was the indispensable need for foreign money for war purposes at this time, the certainty of destruction if the Persian treasury came to the aid of the enemy, that the most democratic Athenian might hesitate if presented with the alternative. . The oligarchical conspirators, however, knew full well that they felt that all the weapons were against them, that grudging approval was the most they could expect from them, and that they must complete the revolution with their own hands and leadership. They formed a political confederation (or hetaeria) to discuss the best course of action towards their end. It was decided to send a delegation to Athens, headed by Peisander, to publicize the new prospects and bring the existing oligarchic associations (hetaeries) into active cooperation to break democracy by force; and yet to establish oligarchic governments in all the remaining dependencies of Athens. They imagined that these dependencies would be incited to remain loyal to her, perhaps even that some of those who had already rebelled would return to her allegiance - once freed from her democracy and under the rule of her "best" and most virtuous citizens". .
Until then, the proposed deal for its acceptance - undermining Athenian democracy and restoring Alcibiades, on the one hand - was in exchange for cordial cooperation and a free shipment of gold from Persia, on the other. But how sure was there that such a deal would ever happen, or that if the first part had happened, the second would come? There was no absolute certainty, save the word of Alcibiades: very little to rely on, even if he promised what was in his own power, as we may remember from his memorable dealings with the Lacedaemonian envoys at Athens, and on the present occasion, to warrant for something inherently wacky and absurd. What sensible reason could I think of for making the Great King shape his foreign policy around the interests of Alcibiades, or for inspiring him with such a keen interest in replacing democracy with oligarchy in Athens? This was an issue which the oligarchic Kabbalists of Samos not only never bothered to raise, but had good reason to want to suppress. Alcibiades' proposal was fully in line with his interests and political ambitions. Their aim was to overthrow democracy and take over the government for themselves, an aim to which the promise of Persian gold, if they could prove it, was an invaluable stepping stone, though it later turned out to be insane or not. They probably had a keen interest in believing it and an even greater interest in making others believe it, and they convinced themselves to sincerely believe it. Without going into this fact, we could not understand how the word of a man like Alcibiades on such a matter could be so tacitly accepted as to trigger a whole series of new and important events.
There was one man, and as far as we know only one man, who dared openly question him. This was Phrynychus, one of the fleet's generals, who had lately given valuable advice after the victory at Miletus; a lucid and insightful man, but personally hostile to Alcibiades and deeply insightful of his character and projects. Although Phrynicus was later one of the main organizers of the oligarchic movement when he split from Alcibiades and became hostile to him, under present circumstances he has entirely dispensed with him1. Alcibiades (he said) was not connected with an oligarchic government and not with a democratic one; nor could he be trusted to stand aside once established. His sole purpose was to exploit the oligarchic conspiracy now forming for his own restoration; which, if it occurred, could not fail to provoke political discord in the countryside, the greatest disgrace that can happen today. As for the Persian king, it was unreasonable to expect him to go out of his way to help the Athenians, his former enemies whom he distrusted, while he had the Peloponnesians as allies with a good naval force and powerful cities in their own territory. right territory, from which he received neither offense nor anger. Furthermore, the Athenian dependencies - which it is now proposed to grant the favor of an oligarchic government at the same time as Athens itself - would receive such favor with indifference. Those who had already rebelled would not return; those who remained faithful would be no more inclined to remain so. Its aim would be to gain autonomy under oligarchy or democracy, as the case may be. Certainly they would not have expected better treatment from an oligarchic government in Athens than from a democratic one; because they knew that these self-proclaimed "good and virtuous" men who would form the oligarchy, as Ministers of Democracy, were the main advisers and instigators of the people to unjust acts; mostly for nothing more than their own individual gain. From an Athenian oligarchy, the citizens of these dependencies could only expect violent executions without trial; but under democracy they could have protection and redress from the people and popular departments, while their persecutors were subject to restrictions and punishments. Such (Frinic confirmed by his own knowledge) was the real feeling among the Athenian dependencies. Having thus shown that the calculations of the conspirators - about Alcibiades, about Persia and about the allied dependencies - were all illusory, Phrynicus concluded by offering his strong protest against accepting Alcibiades' proposals.
But at this protest (which was later confirmed by the result) he was almost alone. The wave of opinion among the oligarchic conspirators ran the other way so furiously that it was decided to send Peisander and others immediately to Athens to complete the oligarchic revolution, as well as the removal of Alcibiades; while also proposing to the people their intended new ally, Tsafernes.
Phrinic knew well what the consequences would be for him of his enemy Alcibiades' revenge against his recent challenge, if that consummation came to pass, as he had probably foreseen. Satisfied that the latter would destroy him, he took steps to destroy Alcibiades beforehand, including by means of a treacherous message to the Lacedaemonian admiral Astyochus at Miletus; to whom he sent a secret report of the intrigues that the Athenian exiled on Samos was plotting against the Peloponnesians, with a clumsy apology for this sacrifice of his country's interests to the need to protect himself against a personal enemy. But Phrynichus was insufficiently informed of the true character of the Spartan commander, or of his dealings with Tissaphernes and Alcibiades. Not only was the latter now in Magnesia, under the protection of the satrap and out of the power of the Lacedaemonians, but Astyochus, a traitor to his duty for the gold of Tissaphernes, went there to show the letter of Phrynychus to the very person I had to expose . Alcibiades quickly sent a message to the generals and officers on Samos of the move Phrynichus had made, urging them to kill him.
Phrynicus's life was now at stake and was probably only preserved thanks to respect for court formalities so ingrained in the Athenian character. In a desperate situation, he resorts to an even more subtle trick to save himself. He sent a second letter to Astyochus, complaining of the breach of trust in connection with the first, but at the same time insinuating that he was now ready to surrender the camp and armaments of Samos to the Lacedaemonians. He invited Astyochus to come and attack the still unfortified place and explained to him exactly how the attack could be carried out; and concluded by saying that this, like any other means of defence, should be excused to one whose life was in danger at the hands of a personal enemy. Anticipating that Astyochus would betray this letter as he had the previous one, Phrynichus waited a reasonable time, then revealed to the camp the enemy's intention to attack, as if it had come to him by private message. He insisted on the need for immediate precautions and, even as a general, he supervised the fortifications, which were soon completed. Soon a letter arrived from Alcibiades, telling the army that Phrinicus had betrayed them and that the Peloponnesians were about to attack. But this letter, which arrived after the arrangements made on Phrinic's own orders had already been completed, was interpreted by Alcibiades himself as a mere ruse to bring an accusation of treasonous correspondence for his knowledge of the Peloponnesians' intentions, against his personnel. enemy. The impression made by his second letter erased the stain left by the first on Phrynychus, for the latter was pardoned of both charges.
But Phrynichus, though so successful in freeing himself, utterly failed in his maneuver against Alcibiades' influence and life; in whose favor the oligarchic movement not only continued, but was transferred from Samos to Athens. Arriving at this last place, Peisander and his companions presented to the public assembly the projects conceived by the oligarchs of Samos. The people were urged to restore Alcibiades and abandon their democratic constitution; in return they secured the Persian king as an ally and the overcoming of the Peloponnesians. Violent was the storm which these proposals raised in the public assembly. Many speakers rose in vigorous defense of democracy; few, if any, chose not to. while the Eumolpidae and the Kerykes, the holy families associated with the Eleusinian mysteries which Alcibiades had profaned, made their solemn protest on religious grounds to the same effect. Against all these fierce opponents, whose passionate abuse won the full sympathy of the assembly, Peisander had but one simple answer. Calling them by name, one by one, he asked each one the following question: "What hope do you have for the salvation of the city if the Peloponnesians have against us a naval force identical to ours, together with a greater number of allied cities, what if both?" the king and Tissaphernes provide you with money while we have no more money? What hope of salvation do you have if we cannot persuade the king to our side?” The answer was a melancholy no, or perhaps a no less melancholy silence. "Well, then," replied Peisander, "this object cannot be achieved unless we regulate our political affairs more moderately for the future and leave the power of government more in the hands of a few - and unless we recall Alcibiades the it is only the man who allows it who does the work.Under present circumstances, we certainly do not value our political constitution more highly than saving the city;
Against the proposed oligarchic change, the Assembly's disapproval was equally angry and unanimous. But they were silenced by the imperative of the case, as the weaponry at Samos had been before; and if the alternative proposed by Peisander is accepted (as I have already indicated), the most democratic citizen might be ashamed of his vote. Whether any orator, like Phrynichus at Samos, charged the fallacy of the alternative, and asked Peisander for an assurance, instead of a mere assertion, of the benefits to come, we are not told. But reluctantly passing the general vote of the assembly, and only waiting for future changes, he signed into law its recommendation. He and ten other envoys, endowed with full powers of negotiation with Alcibiades and Tissaphernes, were immediately sent to Ionia under his command; accused of having treacherously caused the loss of Iaso and the capture of Amorges after the Battle of Miletus, but with the real certainty that he would represent an insurmountable obstacle to all negotiations with Alcibiades. Phrynichus and his colleague Skironides were thus expelled, Leo and Diomedon being sent to Samos as commanders in his stead; an appointment whose consequences Peisander, as we shall shortly see, was far from fulfilling.
Before leaving for Asia, he took an even more important step. He was well aware that the recent vote, the result of war-inspired fear, reflecting a completely opposite mood to that of the assembly, and obtained only as the price of Persian aid against a foreign enemy, would never in reality end. by the spontaneous action of men themselves, it was truly indispensable as a first step; partly as authority in its own right, partly as recognition of the temporary weakness of democracy, and partly as a sanction and encouragement for oligarchic forces to manifest themselves. But the second step remained to be taken; to summon these forces into energetic action, to organize a level of violence sufficient to extort people not only into verbal assent but into actual submission, and thus, as it were, tie down the patient as he is carried off to carry out the process of emasculation. Peisander took part in all the various political clubs, conspiracies or heteras that were common and notorious in Athens; sworn associations among wealthy citizens, partly for amusement, but chiefly with the obligation of members to assist one another in political ends, in judicial proceedings, in prosecuting or defending officials, after the term has elapsed, on essential points by the assembly public, etc. Among these clubs, the majority were "of the best citizens, of the good and honest men, of the elegant men, of the respectable men, of the moderate, of the honest and moderate", etc. Popular politicians have chosen to nominate each other, both in antiquity and in modern times. And while there were undoubtedly individuals among them who deserved these designations in the best sense, the general character of the clubs was no less exclusive and oligarchic. In the details of political life they had different likes as well as different dislikes, and they were more at odds than together. But together they constituted a formidable anti-popular force; usually in limbo or widespread in the implementation of separate minor policies and personal successes, but in a particular averted crisis in the subversion of democracy, collectively organized and attacked. That was the important move now initiated by Peisander. He visited each of these clubs individually, connecting them and urging them to join forces in aggressive action against their common enemy, democracy, at a time when it was already fearful and might eventually be overthrown.
After taking other necessary steps to the same end, Peisander left Athens with his colleagues to begin his negotiations with Tsafernes. But the collaborative attack on the club he launched was followed with greater zeal during his absence, falling into even more organized and effective hands than his. Rhetoric professor Antífona, from Deme Rhamnus, acted on the subject, gained the confidence of the clubs and prepared the campaign plan against democracy. He was a man to be prized in private life, and not prone to monetary corruption: of remarkable ability in other respects, in invention, judgment, speech, and action. The profession to which he belonged, generally unpopular in a democracy, prevented him from being considered an orator either in the public assembly or in the dicastery: as professor of rhetoric competing with private orator in both (to repeat an observation already made once it was made) he considered having an unfair advantage, as a swordsman dueling a knight would stand still in modern times. Thus excluded from conspicuous celebrity in Athenian political life, Antiphon became a master of advice, calculation, intrigue, and rhetorical composition to aid the celebrity of others; to the extent that his tacit participation in political and judicial debates as a kind of chamber lawyer was highly valued and amply remunerated. Well, those were just the talents needed for the present occasion; while Antiphon, who hated democracy because he had hitherto kept it in the shadows, was ready to give all his talents to subvert it.
Such was the skill of the man to whom Peisander entrusted the main task of organizing the anti-popular clubs after his departure, to complete the revolution which was already imminent. His chief assistant was Theramenes, another Athenian now named first, of extraordinary skill and cunning. His father (naturally or by adoption), Agnon, was one of the Probuli and had been the founder of Amphipolis. Even Phrinicus, whose prudence we have already had occasion to appreciate, and who out of hatred for Alcibiades had spoken strongly against the oligarchic movement in Samos, after his removal from command was anxious to promote the movement in Athens. He brought beside Antiphon and Theramenes an elaborate head no inferior to theirs, together with even superior daring and boldness. Under such skilful leaders, the anti-people force in Athens was organized with profound skill and directed with a cunning malice never before seen in Greece.
By the time Peisander and the other envoys arrived near Ionia (apparently around late January or early February 411 BC), the Peloponnesian fleet had already left Miletus for Cnidus and Rhodes, on the latter island of Leo and Diomedon . island. from Chalke. At the same time, Athenian armament at Chios was advancing in the siege of that site and the construction of the neighboring fortress at Delphinium. Pedaritus, the Lacedaemonian governor of the island, had sent urgent messages to the Peloponnesians in Rhodes asking for help, but no help arrived; and therefore he resolved to attempt a general sortie, and attack the Athenians with all his forces, foreign and Chinese. Although initially met with some success, the battle ended in their complete defeat and death, with a great slaughter of Chian troops and the loss of many whose shields were captured in the pursuit. The Chians, now more distraught than before and beginning to suffer severely from starvation, were only able to hold out thanks to partial reinforcements received soon after from Peloponnesian guard ships at Miletus. A Spartan named Leo, who had gone out as one of the Epibatae, or marines, on Antisthenes' ship, led this reinforcing squadron of 12 triremes (mainly Turians and Syracusans), succeeding Pedaritus in overall command of the island.
While Athens was likely to recapture Chios, and while the superior Peloponnesian fleet at Rhodes was crippled by Persian intrigue and bribery, Peisander arrived in Ionia to begin his negotiations with Alcibiades and Tissaphernes. He was able to announce that the end of Athenian democracy had already begun and was about to be completed: and now he exacted the promised price for it: a Persian alliance and aid to Athens against the Peloponnesians. But Alcibiades knew very well that he had promised what he had no chance of fulfilling. The satrap seems to have followed his advice - nay, his own inclination, using Alcibiades as his tool and expedient - in an effort to wear down both parties and keep them almost on an equal footing until they ruined each other. But he was by no means inclined to identify himself with the Athenian cause, or to break decisively with the Peloponnesians, especially at a time when his fleet was the larger of the two and occupied an island close to his own satrapy. Consequently, when the Athenian envoys summoned him to his betrothal, Alcibiades found himself in a quandary which he escaped only by one of his characteristic maneuvers.
He himself received the envoys along with Tissaphernes and spoke on behalf of the latter, pressing his demands to a point that he knew the Athenians would never yield; so that the break appears to be on his side rather than his. First, he demanded that all of Ionia be ceded to the Great King; below all neighboring islands, with some other elements. Great as these demands were, they included the cession of Lesbos, Samos and Chios, replacing the Persian monarchy as it was in 496 BC. he had gotten up. before the Ionian Revolt, Peisander and his colleagues gave it their all: so that Alcibiades was about to have his deception exposed and thwarted. Finally, he thought of a new demand that touched both Athenian pride and security to the rawest. He demanded that the Persian king be free to build warships in unlimited numbers and sail them along the coast as he saw fit, through all these new territories. After the immense concessions already made, the envoys not only immediately rejected this new demand, but dismissed it as an insult revealing Alcibiades' true direction and intent. Not only did he rescind the vaunted treaty (called the Peace of Callias) made between Athens and Persia some forty years ago, restricting Persian warships to the sea east of Phaselis, but he also destroyed the naval kingdom of Athens and compromised the everyone's safety. coasts and islands of the Aegean Sea. To see Lesvos, Chios and Samos etc. owned by Persia, it was painful enough; but if there were mighty Persian fleets on these islands, it would be the sure precursor and vehicle for future conquests to the west, and would revive the aggressive dispositions of the Great King as they existed at the beginning of Xerxes' reign. Peisander and his comrades abruptly broke off the debate and returned to Samos; – Indignant at the discovery, now for the first time, that Alcibiades had pressured them from the start, setting up conditions he knew were inadmissible. However, they still seem to have believed that Alcibiades acted in this way, not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want the alliance in question to come to fruition. He was suspected of committing an injustice to the oligarchic movement that he himself had instigated and that projected the apex of his own restoration, linked to Tissaphernes' alliance, within democracy, that he had initiated with the denunciation. Such was the light in which they presented their conduct; they expressed their disappointment by denouncing his duplicity and asserting that he was unfit for a place in oligarchic society. When such statements were circulated in Samos to explain his unexpected failure to realize the hope they had inspired, they gave the impression, under arms, that Alcibiades was really in favor of democracy; At the same time, he kept intact the prestige of his unbounded superiority over Tissaphernes and the High King. We shall shortly see the implications of this belief.
Immediately after the negotiations failed, however, the satrap took a calculated step to destroy the Athenians' hopes of immediate Persian aid. Although he persisted in his policy of giving neither side decisive aid and only prolonging the war to weaken both, he began to fear that he was going too far against the Peloponnesians, who had already been inactive for two months. Rhodes, washed ashore with his great fleet. He had no treaty with them that was actually in force, as Lichas had rejected the previous two conventions, nor had he provided them with salary or alimony. So far, his bribery officers have kept Armor quiet; however, we do not clearly see how such a large group of people made their living1. He was now informed, however, that they could no longer find a livelihood, and were likely to desert or plunder the shores of their satrapy, or perhaps, in desperate circumstances, be forced into general action with the Athenians. Under such fears he felt compelled to contact them again, pay them, and conclude with them a third convention, the proposal of which he had rejected at Knidos. He therefore went to Kaunus, invited the Peloponnesian leaders to Miletus, and made a treaty with them near that city, declaring:
"In this 13th year of the reign of Darius and in the euphoria of Alexippidas in Lacedaemon, the Lacedaemonians and their allies make a convention with Tissaphernes and Hieramenes and the sons of Pharnaces, respecting the affairs of the king and the Lacedaemonians and their allies. It is said that the king's territory, however far in Asia, belongs to the king. Let the king determine how he respects his own territory. The sea demons and their allies must not approach the king's territory with evil intentions, nor the king himself will approach the sea demons and their allies with similar intentions. If any of the Lacedaemonians or their allies approach the king's territory with malicious intent, the Lacedaemonians and their allies will arrest him. Tissaphernes will pay and maintain the fleet now present at the rate already fixed, until the king's fleet arrives; after that the Lacedaemonians will be free to keep their own fleet if they so choose, or, if they prefer, Tissaphernes will keep it, and at the end of the war the Lacedaemonians must they will look back on what they have received. Upon the arrival of the king's fleet, the two fleets must wage war together, in whatever manner is convenient for Tissaphernes, the Lacedaemonians, and their allies. If they choose to end the war with the Athenians, they will only end it by mutual agreement."
Comparing this third convention with the two preceding ones, we find that nothing is now established about any territory except the continent of Asia; which is granted unreservedly to the king, of course, with all the Greeks planted in it. But, by some diplomatic subtlety, the terms of the treaty imply that this is not all the territory the king can claim, although nothing has been agreed about the rest. Then this third treatise includes Pharnabazus (the son of Pharnaces) with his satrapy Daskylium; and Hieramenes with his district, the extent and position of which we do not know; whereas in earlier treaties no other satraps were involved except Tissaphernes. We must remember that the Peloponnesian fleet included those 27 triremes which Caligeitus had expressly brought to the aid of Pharnabazus; and therefore the latter now naturally became a part of the general operations. Third, here we find for the first time a formal announcement of a Persian fleet to be brought in to aid the Peloponnesians. This was a promise which the satrap now uttered even more plainly than before, to amuse them and to dispel the suspicions which they had begun to cherish in his sincerity. It served the temporary purpose of dissuading her from any immediate act of despair hostile to her interests, which was all she sought. So, while renewing his payments, he devoted himself first to handling orders and preparations for the Phoenician fleet.
The Peloponnesian fleet was ordered to pull away from Rhodes. However, before he left that island, envoys from Eretria and Oropus arrived there; the latter site (a dependency on the northeastern border of Attica), though protected by an Athenian garrison, had recently been surprised and conquered by the Boeotians. The loss of Oropus greatly increased the chances of the Euboean rebellion; and these envoys came to ask the help of the Peloponnesian fleet to assist the island in this plan. Peloponnesian commanders, however, previously felt compelled to relieve those suffering on Chios, the island to which they first went. But no sooner had they passed Cape Triope than they saw Chalké's Athenian squadron following their movements. Although neither side wanted an all-out engagement, they clearly saw that the Athenians would not allow them to pass Samos and reach the relief of Chios without a fight. Therefore, they abandoned the plan to relieve Chios and again concentrated their forces on Miletus. while the Athenian fleet also assembled at Samos. Around the end of March 411 BC. The two fleets were thus redeployed to the stations they had occupied four months earlier.
After the break with Alcibiades, and even more after this apparent reconciliation of Tissaphernes with the Peloponnesians, Peisander and the oligarchic conspirators of Samos had to reconsider their plan of action Alcibiades, and endowed by him with the insidious deception of the Persian alliance in order to be able to deceive and paralyze the people. Indeed, they had sufficient reason, from their own personal ambition, to carry it out themselves, apart from Alcibiades; but without the hopes, equally serviceable to their purpose, true or false, attached to his name, they would have had no chance of taking the first step. But now that first step was taken before the delirious anticipation of Persian gold dissipated. The Athenian people had been introduced to the idea of subverting their constitution at a price: they held the point of the sword, without paying the price, to extort what they had agreed to sell. Furthermore, the leaders of the Scheme already felt compromised, so they could not withdraw with certainty. They had mobilized their supporters in Athens, where the system of murderous intimidation (though the news had not yet reached Samos) was already in full swing: so they were forced to persevere as their only chance of survival. At the same time, all that feeble pretense of public benefit in the form of a Persian alliance which had originally been associated with it, and which might have been intended to draw some timid patriots into the scheme, has now been wholly withdrawn. Nothing was left but a naked, selfish, and unscrupulous plan of ambition, which not only ruined the freedom of Athens at home, but paralyzed and endangered it from the foreign enemy at a time when all its strength was scarcely at bay. hand. of the fight. The conspirators decided at all costs to break the constitution and continue the war abroad. Most of them were wealthy men, and were content (says Thucydides) to pay the expenses out of their own pockets, now that they were fighting not for their country, but for their own power and profit.
They wasted no time in proceeding with the execution immediately after returning to Samos from the failed conference with Alcibiades. As Peisander was sent back to Athens with five of those sent to complete what was already under way there, and the remaining five to oligarchy the dependent allies, they marshalled all their party power into armor and began to take steps to establish the democracy in Samos. . This democracy was the product of a violent revolution carried out about ten months earlier with the help of three Athenian triremes. It had since preserved Samos and Chios from revolt: it was now the means of preserving democracy in Athens itself. Peisander's supporters, considering him an insurmountable obstacle to their views, managed to win over a group of Samian leaders who now held authority under him. Three hundred of them, part of those who had risen up in arms ten months earlier to crush the existing oligarchy, now conspired with the Athenian oligarchs to overthrow Sámi democracy and seize the government. The new alliance was witnessed and cemented, in true oligarchic practice, by extrajudicial murder or execution, for which there was a suitable victim. The Athenian Hyperbolus, ostracized some years before by the coalition of Nicias and Alcibiades and their respective followers - ostracized (as Thucydides tells us) not for fear of his supreme power and influence, but for his bad character and after he had fallen in disgrace of the city - and thus ostracized for abuse of the institution - was now based on Samos. He defended the demagogic and accusatory eloquence of democracy, the control of misconduct; so that it served as a common object of revulsion for the Athenian and Sami oligarchs. Some of the Athenian partisans, led by Charminus, one of the generals, together with the Sami conspirators, captured Hyperbolus and killed him; apparently with a few other victims at the same time.
But while these joint assassinations of each section of the conspirators served as a guarantee of each other's loyalty for future operations, at the same time they alerted opponents. The leaders of Samos who remained loyal to democracy and looked outside to defend themselves against an imminent attack made heartfelt appeals to Leo and Diomedon, the two generals who had just arrived from Athens to replace Phrinicus and Esquironides, men who had sincerely dedicated themselves to the democracy, and opposed all oligarchical changes, as did the trierarch Thrasyllus, the then hoplite in the service of Thrasybulus (son of Lycus), and many of the other declared democrats and patriots in Athenian armour. They appealed not only in the interests of their own personal security and their own democracy, now threatened by conspirators, some of whom were Athenians, but also on grounds of public interest in Athens; for if Samos were oligarchic, his sympathy for Athenian democracy and his allegiance to the alliance would end. Recent events in Athens were not known at the time (to be reported) and democracy still existed there.
Helping the besieged democracy of Samos and preserving the island itself, now the mainstay of the shattered Athenian empire, were more than enough reasons to awaken the much sought after Athenian leaders. When they struck up a personal conversation among the soldiers and sailors, invoking their interference to prevent the overthrow of Sami democracy, they found the general mood decidedly in their favor, but especially among the Parali, or crew of the designated sacred public trireme. stop them. These men were the state's chosen sailors; each of them not only an honorary citizen, but a full citizen of Athens; better paid than the average sailor and known to be devotees of the democratic constitution with an active dislike of the oligarchy itself and anything that smacks of it. Leon and Diomedon's vigilance on the defensive side countered the machinations of their colleague Charminus along with the conspirators; and provided Sámi democracy with loyal helpers who were always ready for action. Now the conspirators have made a violent attack to overthrow the government; but though they chose their own time and opportunity, they found themselves utterly devastated in the battle, especially at the hands of the energetic help of the Parali. Thirty of them died in combat and three of the culprits were later sentenced to exile. The winning party did not take revenge, not even against the rest of the three hundred conspirators - it granted a general amnesty - and made every effort to restore the constitutional and harmonious functioning of democracy.
Chaereas, an Athenian trierarch who had been at the forefront of the battle, was sent to Athens on the Paralus to report what had happened. But this democratic company, upon arriving in its hometown, instead of being received with the welcome that was undoubtedly expected, found a situation no less repulsive than surprising. The democracy of Athens had been undermined: instead of the Senate of five hundred and the assembled people, an oligarchy of four hundred self-proclaimed sovereign authority enthroned the Senate Chamber. The first order of the Four Hundred, on hearing that the Paralus had entered the Perseus, was to arrest two or three of the crew and remove the remainder of their own privileged trireme aboard an ordinary trireme, with orders to leave immediately to sail close by. Euboea. Commander Chaereas found means of escape and returned to Samos to deliver the bad news.
The steps by which this oligarchy of the Four Hundred gradually rose to its new power must be taken from the moment Peisander left Athens, after obtaining the approval of the public assembly to deal with Alcibiades and Tissaphernes, and after having begun a common organization and a conspiracy of all anti-popular associations, which fell under the leadership of Antiphon and Theramenes in particular, afterwards supported by Phrinicus. All the members of that council of elders called the Probuli, named after the defeat in Sicily - with Agnon, father of Theramenes at its head - and many other prominent citizens, some of whom were counted among their closest friends, Democracy closed for the night. conspiracy; while oligarchs and rich neutrals entered with zeal; so that a numerous and well-funded guerrilla corps was formed. Antiphon did not try to gather them or to demonstrate publicly, armed or unarmed, to intimidate the royal authorities. He allowed the Senate and People's Assembly to meet and debate as usual; but supporters of his, whose names and numbers were public knowledge, received instructions from him when to speak and in what language to speak. The big issue they left behind was the cost of democratic institutions in the current financial emergency, in which tribute payments from the Allies could no longer be expected: the high tax that the state had to pay through the payment of senators. o Ecclesiastes, or citizens attending the public assembly, &c. The state could now only pay the soldiers who fought in its defense, and no one else was to tamper with public funds. It was important (they insisted) to expel all but a select group of five thousand, made up of those who could best serve the city personally and with money.
The widespread disenfranchisement associated with this last proposal was shocking enough to the ears of an Athenian assembly. But in reality, the proposal itself was a juggling act that would never be performed and represented something far less than Antiphon and her followers intended. Their intent was simply to seize government power without control or association; leave this corps of five thousand not only unconvented but non-existent, a mere empty name to be imposed on the general citizenry. Of such a royal intention, however, not a word had yet been said. The projected corps of five thousand was the theme preached by all the party orators; but without presenting a substantive alteration, which was still not possible without the illegality.
Even so indirectly endorsed, the bill to reduce the deductible to 5,000 and abolish all paid public services was a change violent enough to provoke numerous opponents. Antiphon was fully prepared for such opponents. Of the men who opposed in this way, all, or at least the most prominent ones, were successively killed by private murder. The first of them to perish in this way was Androcles, distinguished as a demagogue or orator of the people, destined to take revenge not only for this circumstance, but also for the fact that before his exile he had been one of the fiercest accusers of Alcibiades. . . For at that time Peisander's break with Tsafernes and Alcibiades was not yet known in Athens, so he was still about to return home as a member of the planned oligarchic government. After Androcles many other similar orators likewise died at unknown hands. A band of young Greeks, foreigners from different cities, organized themselves for the business: the victims were all chosen from the same special ground, and the action was performed with such skill that neither the conductor nor the instrument was ever known. After these certain, special, clandestine and systematic killings, emanating from an unknown agency like a Vehmic Tribunal, continued for some time, the terror they unleashed became intense and universal. Justice could not be done, no investigation could be launched, not even for the death of the nearest and dearest. Ultimately, no one dared ask for or even mention an investigation and considered themselves lucky to have escaped the same fate. Such rapid organization and such precise coup made it appear that the conspirators were far more numerous than they actually were. And when it turned out that among them there were people who were previously considered warm Democrats, despondency and suspicion finally set in. No one dared express outrage over the murders, let alone talk of reparations or revenge, for fear of communicating with one of the unknown conspirators. Amidst this terror, all opposition in the Senate and public assembly was extinguished, so that the orators of the scheming oligarchy seemed to deserve unanimous approval.
Such was the state in which Antiphon and the oligarchical conspirators acting under his direction had conducted affairs in Athens, when Peisander and the five envoys returned from Samos. The news of the break with Alcibiades and the need to continue the conspiracy without further ado from Samos was probably passed on to him or the Persian alliance beforehand. Such news would probably have been acceptable to both Antiphon and Phrynicus, both of whom were personal enemies of Alcibiades; especially Frinicus, who had declared him incapable of fraternizing with an oligarchic revolution. In any case, Antiphon's plans were independent of any prospect of Persian aid, and were aimed at bringing about the revolution through deliberate, exorbitant, and naked fear, without any admixture of hope or prospect of public benefit. Peisander found the reign of terror fully developed. He did not come to Athens directly from Samos, but stopped at various Allied dependencies on his journey, while the other five envoys, plus a partisan named Diotrephes, were sent to Thassos and elsewhere; all with the same purpose of crushing the democracies in the allied cities where they existed and establishing oligarchies in their space. Peisander made this change in Tenos, Andros, Karystus, Aegina, and other places; From these various places he assembled a regiment of 300 hoplites, which he brought to Athens as a sort of bodyguard for his new oligarchy. Only when he reached Piraeus did he know the full success of the terrorism organized by Antiphon and the others; so he was probably prepared to overcome more resistance than he actually encountered. In fact, public opinion and spirit were so completely subdued that he was able to draw the last straw in one fell swoop. His arrival was the signal for the culmination of the revolution; first by extorting the lifting of precautionary constitutional sanctions – second by the more direct use of armed force.
First, he convened a public assembly in which he proposed a decree designating ten commissioners with full powers to draw up proposals for political reforms that they considered convenient, to be completed by a specified date. According to the usual practice, this decree must have been previously approved in the Senate of the Five Hundred before being presented to the people. This was certainly the case in the present case, so that the decree passed without opposition. On the appointed day a new assembly met, which Peisander and his supporters held not at the usual place (called the Pnyx) within the city walls, but at a place called the Colonus, ten furlongs (well over a mile). ) outside the walls, north of the city. Colonus was a temple of Poseidon, to which precincts the congregation was confined for the occasion. Such a meeting would probably not be large wherever it was held, as there might be few occasions to attend if freedom of debate were extinguished; but the oligarchical conspirators now placed him outside the walls; the choice of a cramped meeting area, to further reduce the likelihood of a large turnout, of a meeting they fully planned was the last in the history of Athens. They were also out of reach of any armed movement in the city and could post their own armed supporters to protect the meeting from the riots of the Dekeleian Lacedaemonians.
The proposal of the newly appointed commissioners (probably Peisander, Antiphon and other supporters) was extremely short and simple. They simply promoted the abolition of the famous Paranomon Charts; that is, they proposed that all Athenian citizens be given complete freedom to make any unconstitutional proposal they chose, and that all other citizens be prohibited, under severe penalties, from suing him for Graphs Paranomon (informality, illegal or unconstitutional charges) or cause any other harm. This proposal was accepted without a single objection. It was considered more formal by the heads of the Executive to clearly separate this proposal from the others and put it, one by one and separately, on the lips of the special commissioners; since it was the legalizing condition of any other positive change they wished to carry out later. Free to introduce any motion, however unconstitutional, and refraining from all the usual formalities, such as provisional approval by the Senate, Peisander now presented his proposals as follows:
1. All existing democratic magistrates were immediately terminated and suspended for the future. 2. No civil duties of any kind would be payable henceforth.3. To form a new government, a committee of five was immediately appointed to elect a larger body of one hundred (that is, one hundred including the five electors). Each individual must select three people from this group of one hundred people. 4. Thus a body of four hundred was formed, to fill their seats in the Senate Chamber, and administer the government with unlimited powers as they pleased. 5. They must summon the Five Thousand when they see fit. Everything was approved without a vote against.
The invention and use of this imaginary assembly of five thousand was not the least skilful of Antiphon's combinations. No one knew who those five thousand were, but the resolution just passed declared that such a number of citizens should not be selected by election or lot or in any private way that would expose them to the view and knowledge of others. but that the Four Hundred should summon the Five Thousand whenever they saw fit: which is why the latter represented a ready-made and notorious list, at least for the Four Hundred themselves. The fact is that the Five Thousand did not exist anywhere except in speeches. and proclamations of the conspirators, as well as fictitious assistants. They did not even exist as individual names on paper, but simply as a pompous nominal aggregation. The four hundred now installed constituted the total and exclusive rulers of the state. But the mere name of the Five Thousand, though it was no more than a name, served two important purposes for Antiphon and her conspiracy. First, it admitted to having been wrongly manufactured (particularly for the armament of Samos), as evidence of a rather large and popular group of equal and qualified contemporary citizens, all bent on taking turns in the exercise of governmental power; Thus was appeased the hatred of the extreme usurpation of the Four Hundred, who became only the first section of the Five Thousand, in office for a few months, and at the end of that term destined to give way to another section of equal scope. He then greatly increased the intimidation of the Four Hundred at home, exaggerating their perceived strength. Because the citizens were generally led to believe that there were five thousand real and living partners in the conspiracy; The fact that these partners were not known and could not be individually identified further increased the reigning terror and distrust, for any man who suspected that his neighbor might be among them feared to share his displeasure or any means of proposing a common resistance1. In any case, the name and supposed existence of the Five Thousand gave strength to the true conspirators of the Four Hundred. He masked his usurpation while tightening his grip on the citizens' respect and fears.
Once Colono's popular assembly had accepted all of Peisander's proposals with apparent unanimity, they were rejected; and the new regiment of four hundred was selected and formed in the prescribed manner. Now all that was left was to place them in the Senate Chamber. But this was not without violence, as the senators were already inside; No doubt they immediately left the assembly where their presence, at least the presence of the prytans or senators of the tribe they presided over, was essential as lawful presidents. They had to consider what they would do under the newly passed decree stripping them of all authority. It was even possible that they would organize armed resistance; therefore, at the present time, it seemed more than usual, as the occupation of Dekeleia by the Lacedaemonians kept Athens in a state of permanent encampment, with a large part of the citizens in arms day and night. The Four Hundred took precautions against this possibility. They chose the time of day when most citizens tended to go home (probably for their morning dinner) and left the military post with weapons stacked and ready under comparatively light guard. As the hoplite corps was leaving the station at this hour, according to usual practice, the hoplites (Andrianus, Tenianus, and others), in the immediate confidence of the Four Hundred, were privately ordered to prepare and keep their weapons at bay; so that if any symptom of the contemplated resistance appeared, they could intervene immediately and anticipate it. This precaution having been taken, the Four Hundred marched en masse to the Senate building, each man with a dagger concealed under his cloak, followed by his special personal guard of 120 youths from various Greek cities, the instruments of murder ordered by Antiphon and his colleagues. . In this line they marched to the senate house where the senators were assembled and ordered them out; At the same time, he offered them their salaries for the remainder of the year (apparently about three months or so until the start of Hekatombaeon, the month of new appointments), during which time they would continue in their duties. The senators were by no means disposed to oppose the newly issued decree under the guises of legality, for an armed body now arrived to enforce its execution. They obeyed and left, each man who passed through the door taking the salary offered to him. That they should, under the circumstances, obey a higher power cannot arouse either guilt or surprise; But for them to accept this expectation of an unearned salary at the hands of the conspirators was a meanness that almost branded them as accomplices and dishonored the passage of time of the highest democratic authority. The Four Hundred now found themselves triumphantly ensconced in the Senate building. There was not the slightest resistance, either inside or outside its walls, from any sector of the citizens.
Thus perished, or seemed to perish, the democracy of Athens after an uninterrupted existence of nearly a hundred years since the revolution of Cleisthenes. So incredible did it seem that the numerous, intelligent, constitutional citizens of Athens should have their liberties overthrown by a gang of four hundred conspirators, while the great mass of them not only loved their democracy, but held their weapons in their hand to destroy it. defend - that even his enemy and neighbor Agis in Dekeleia could hardly imagine that the revolution was a fact. We shall see in a moment that it did not exist, and probably would not have existed had circumstances been more favourable, but that it did occur is too extraordinary a fact to be ignored without a few words of explanation.
We must note that the immense catastrophe and loss of blood in Sicily drained the energy of the Athenian character in general, but especially in its foreign relations; the possibility that they could defend themselves against enemies was increased in number by rebellions among their own allies and further supported by Persian gold. Upon this feeling of despair is brought the treacherous deceit of Alcibiades, who offers them Persian aid; that is, means of defense and success against foreign enemies, at the price of their democracy. The people are reluctantly led, but are led to consider the proposal: and thus the conspirators gain their first main point: to acquaint the people with the idea of such a constitutional amendment. The later success of the conspiracy, when all prospects of Persian gold or an improved foreign position came to an end, is due to Antiphon's combinations, as nefarious as they were skillful, handling and organizing the combined force of the aristocratic classes in Athens. ; Power always very great, but under normal circumstances working in disunited factions and even hostile to each other -restricted by the nascent democratic institutions- and reduced to a corruption that could not overthrow them. Systematics and the realization of a predetermined end always endures. within the supposed constitutional limits. It does not raise any open mutiny: it keeps intact the cardinal point of Athenian political morality, including respect for the decisions of the Senate and the political assembly, as constitutional maxims. But he knows full well that the value of these meetings as political security depends on full freedom of expression; and that when this liberty is suppressed, the assembly itself becomes a vain thing, or rather an instrument of deceit and wickedness. Accordingly, he had all the popular speakers killed one by one, so that no one would dare open his mouth on that side; On the other hand, anti-popular speakers are boisterous and confident, encouraging each other and seeming to represent everyone's feelings. By silencing all leaders and intimidating all opponents to speak out, he extorted formal approval from the Assembly and Senate for measures that the vast majority of citizens abhor. That majority, however, are subject to their own constitutional forms: and when their decision, by any means, goes against them, they have neither inclination nor courage to resist. Nowhere in the world is this sense of constitutional duty and subjection to the vote of a legal majority felt more strongly and more universally than among the citizens of democratic Athens. Antiphon thus finds a way to use Athenian constitutional sentiment as a means of killing the constitution. : the mere empty form, having stripped the abdominals of their vital and protective efficacy, remains only a ruse to paralyze individual patriotism.
It was this fraud that prevented the Athenians from taking up arms in defense of that democracy to which they clung. Being constitutionally accustomed to unrestricted peaceful consent, they were extremely averse to anything resembling visceral armed struggle. This is the natural consequence of an established free and equal policy: to substitute the fight of the tongue for that of the sword, and sometimes even to produce such an extreme aversion to the latter that, when freedom is vigorously attacked, the counterattack dies. comes to its defense the necessary energy can probably be found as a deficiency. So difficult is it for the same people to have both the qualities needed to make a free constitution work well in ordinary times, and the very different qualities needed to protect them against extraordinary dangers and difficult circumstances to maintain. Only an Athenian of exceptional ability like Antiphon could have understood the art of making the constitutional sentiments of his countrymen serve the success of his conspiracy, and of maintaining the ways of lawful dealings with assembled constitutional bodies while stabbing them in secret. and successive stab wounds to injured people. Political assassination was unknown in Athens (as far as we know), as it was used by the oligarchic party against Ephialtes, parish priest of Pericles, some fifty years before. But this was an isolated case, and it fell to Antiphon and Phrynicus to organize a band of assassins. work systematically and eliminate a series of main victims one by one. As the Macedonian kings in later times demanded the posting of the people's orators into a single body, so the authors of this conspiracy found the same enemies to deal with, and chose another way to get rid of them; This turns the assembly into a meek, lifeless mass that can be bullied into giving collective assent to actions the vast majority abhor.
As Greek history was generally written, we are instructed to believe that the calamities, corruption, and degradation of democratic states were brought about by the class of demagogues, of which Cleon, Hyperbolus, Androcles, etc., stand out as examples. These men are portrayed as criminals and slanderers, accusing without cause and turning innocence into betrayal. Now, the history of this Conspiracy of the Four Hundred shows us the other side of the picture. It shows that the political enemies - from whom the Athenian people were protected by their democratic institutions and by demagogues as living organs of those institutions - were not fictitious but dangerously real. He reveals the continuing existence of powerful anti-popular combinations, ready to unite for treacherous purposes when the moment seems safe and tempting. It manifests the character and morals of the leaders, who naturally fell to the direction of the anti-popular force. It shows that these leaders, men of extraordinary ability, needed nothing more than the annihilation or silence of the demagogues to undermine popular security and take over the government. We need no better evidence to teach us what was the real function and inner necessity of these demagogues in the Athenian system; to regard them as a class, and apart from the way in which the individuals among them performed their duty. They formed the vital movement of all that was the guardian and supporter of democracy. Aggressive with the convicts, defensive with the public and the constitution. If this anti-popular force Antiphon found ready to use was not working to stifle democracy at a much earlier date, it is because there were demagogues to cry out about and assemblies to listen to and support. If Antiphon's conspiracy was successful, it was because he knew where to direct his blows to overthrow the true enemies of the oligarchy and the true defenders of the people. I use the term demagogues here because it is commonly used by those who denounce the class of men under discussion: the correct neutral phrase, hateful connotations aside, would be to call them popular orators or opposition orators. But whatever name may be given them, it is impossible adequately to imagine their position in Athens without seeing them in contrast and opposition to those anti-popular forces against which they formed the indispensable barrier, and which stand out in such a patently melancholy manner. . the organizing hands of Antiphon and Phrynicus.
Once seated formally in the Senate building, the Four Hundred were divided by lot into separate Prytania (probably ten in number, each consisting of forty members, like the previous Senate of Five Hundred), thus apportioning the year in which the people I did not was going to participate. be disturbed), and then celebrated his installation with prayer and sacrifice. Some political enemies were killed, though not many; they also arrested and banished others, and made great changes in the management of the affairs; to bear everything with a severity and severity unknown in the old constitution. It seems that it was suggested among them that a vow of restoration be sent to all exiles. However, this was rejected by the majority so that Alcibiades was not among them; however, they did not see fit to enact the law and reserve it as a special exception.
Furthermore, they sent a messenger to Agis at Dekeleia, to indicate their desire to negotiate peace; which (they protested) I should have been willing to concede to them now that the "faithful Demos" had been crushed. However, Agis, who did not believe that the Athenian people would allow themselves to be deprived of their freedom in this way, expected that internal conflicts would certainly break out, or that at least a part of the Long Walls would be left unprotected if a foreign army appeared. Therefore, while rejecting offers of peace, he simultaneously sent reinforcements from the Peloponnese and marched with a sizable army, plus his own garrison, towards the walls of Athens. But he found the walls carefully manned: no commotion within: even a sortie was made, gaining the upper hand over him. He therefore hastily withdrew and sent his newly arrived reinforcements back to the Peloponnese; while the Four Hundred, renewing their peace efforts with him, now felt much more welcome, and were even encouraged to send emissaries to Sparta itself.
Having thus overcome the first difficulties, and brought matters to a point which seemed to promise stability, they sent ten emissaries to Samos, knowing beforehand the danger which awaited them there, owing to the well-known aversion of sailors to anything of the nature of the Besides, the The oligarchy had just learned since the arrival of Chereas and Paralus of the joint attack by the Athenian and Sami oligarchs and their total failure. If this event had taken place a little earlier, it might even have prevented some of them from going ahead with the revolution in Athens, which was almost certainly doomed from the start. His ten envoys were instructed to represent at Samos that the recent oligarchy had established itself without harmful views for the city, but on the contrary for the common good; that, although the council now constituted consisted only of four hundred, the total number of partisans who had made the revolution, and were qualified citizens among themselves, was five thousand; a larger number (they added) than had ever assembled in the Pnyx under Democracy, even for the most important debates, as a result of the inevitable absence of large numbers from military service and foreign travel.
What satisfaction this allusion to the fictitious five thousand, or the erroneous reference to real or feigned figures of past democratic assemblies, would have given, if these envoys had brought the first news of the Athenian revolution to Samos, we cannot say. Chaereas, the officer of the Paralus, went before them; who, though the Four Hundred tried to arrest him, escaped and hurried to Samos to tell them of the dreadful and unexpected change that had taken place in Athens, and heard it from the lips of Chereas, who immediately told them the absolute truth, and even more than that. that it. TRUTH. He reported with indignation that any Athenian who dared to speak a word against the four hundred rulers of the city was punished with the lash, that even the wives and children of people hostile to them were indignant, that a plan was proposed to seize and imprison the relatives of the Democrats on Samos and killed them if they refused to obey orders from Athens to arouse a feeling of revulsion in the Four Hundred. But these additional details of Chereas, partly false, filled them with uncontrollable rage, which they expressed through open threats against known supporters of the Four Hundred on Samos, as well as those who had participated in the island's recent oligarchic conspiracy. It was not without difficulty that their hands were raised by the most attentive citizens present, who protested against the folly of such disorderly action when the enemy was at hand.
But though the violence and aggressive insults ceased in time, the armament climate was too ardent and unanimous to be satisfied without a solemn, emphatic, and resolute declaration against the oligarchs of Athens. A great democratic display of the most serious and imposing character was proclaimed chiefly at the instigation of Thrasybulus and Thrasyllus. The Athenian arms, gathered in one great assembly, swore by the strictest sanctions - to defend their democracy - to maintain friendship and harmony among themselves - to wage vigorous war against the Peloponnesians - to be at enmity with the four hundred in Athens, and not not to establish no friendly relations with them. The entire army enthusiastically swore to this treaty, and even those who had previously participated in oligarchic movements were forced to lead the ceremony. What gave this moving scene a dual power was that the entire Sami population, all men of military age, took the oath along with friendly weaponry. Both pledged themselves to the other's fidelity and to mutual suffering or triumph, whatever the subject of competition. Both felt that the Peloponnesians at Miletus and the four hundred at Athens were their enemies, and that the success of either of them would be their common ruin.
In keeping with this determination to defend their democracy while waging war against the Peloponnesians at any cost or danger to themselves, the Armor soldiers now took a step unprecedented in the history of Athens. Feeling that they could no longer take orders from Athens under their current oligarchic rulers, involving Charminus and others under their own leaders, they formed a distinct community of sorts and held an assembly as citizens to renew their elected generals and trierarchs. Of those already in charge, several were deposed as untrustworthy; others were chosen in their place, notably Thrasybulus and Thrasyllus. The assembly was not held just for election. It was a scene of exuberant sympathy, heartening eloquence, and generous, determined patriotism. the guardians of its constitution, the guardians of its remaining empire and glory, the protectors of its citizens at home against the conspirators who unjustly invaded the Senate building, the only barrier, even for these same conspirators, against the enemy Peloponnesian fleet. "The city was outraged with us' (Thrasybulus and others exclaimed in succinct terms that embodied a whole range of sentiments). "But let's not let that put us off: for they are only the smaller force, we are the larger and self-sufficient. We have the entire State Navy here, so we can get contributions from our departments just as easily as if we had started from Athens." the warm affection of Samos, second in power only to Athens itself, and now, as in the past, serves us as a military post against the enemy. We can take better care of ourselves than the townsfolk; for it is only through our presence at Samos that we have hitherto kept the mouth of Piraeus open. If they refuse to restore our democratic constitution, we are better able to banish them at sea than they are to banish us. what is the city really doing now to encourage us to support our efforts against the enemy? Little or nothing. We lost nothing by their separation. They don't send us a salary, they leave us to support us, now they can't and don't even send us good advice, which is the great superiority of a city over a camp. As advisors, we are better than they are here; because they just made the mistake of undermining the constitution of our common country, while we strive to defend it and we will do everything to force them to follow the same path. Alcibiades, if we assure him of a safe recovery, will gladly bring the Alliance of Persia to our support; And even when the worst comes, when all other hopes fail, our mighty naval force will always allow us to find ports abundant with cities and territories to meet our needs.
This was the encouraging language of Thrasyllus and Thrasybulus, who found full sympathy with Armament and inspired among them a spirit of vigorous patriotism and determination not unworthy of their ancestors in fleeing under Xerxes' invasion at Salamis. Regaining their democracy and continuing the war against the Peloponnesians were equally ardent impulses, and mingled with the same wave of generous enthusiasm; a tide so vehement that it swept away the resentment of that minority formerly inclined to the oligarchic movement. But in addition to these two impulses there was a third, aimed at Alcibiades' memory; a healer, though useful in many respects, but bringing with him a spirit of selfishness and duplicity befitting the exalted feeling which is now omnipotent in Samos.
This exile was the first to provoke the oligarchical conspiracy by which Athens, scarcely equal to the demands of its foreign war, was now paralyzed with courage and torn apart by civil discord, precisely because of that counter-enthusiasm, which was lucky. . absolute doom In Samos there was a turn of events. Having first deceived the conspirators themselves, and allowing them to deceive the sincere democrats, by promising them Persian aid, and thus letting the conspiracy hang over its first and greatest difficulties, Alcibiades was forced to break with them as soon as the time came to fulfill his mission. . mission. . promises, but he'd stopped talking long enough to maintain the illusion that he could make it happen if he wanted to. His return to the oligarchy was now impossible, of course he had become its enemy, and this new dislike overcame his feeling of revenge against democracy for banishing him, help him use one of the two interchangeably, depending on one or the other. another presented. as a viable agency for its ambitious visions. Consequently, as soon as the turn of affairs in Samos was felt, he opened a liaison with Thrasybulus and the democratic leaders, and renewed to them the same promises of Persian allegiance, on condition of his own restoration, as he had formerly done to Peisander. . and the oligarchic party. Thrasybulus and his colleagues sincerely believed in him, or at least believed that his restoration offered a not inconsiderable opportunity of obtaining the Persian aid without which they despaired of the war. Such a possibility would at least inspire spirit in the soldiers; while the restoration was now proposed without the disastrous stipulation which formerly attended it, of renouncing the democratic constitution.
However, it was not without difficulty, not even more than an assembly and discussion, that Thrasybulos forced the armed men to vote for the safety and recovery of Alcibiades. As Athenian citizens, the soldiers were unlikely to accept the reversal of a solemn sentence of irreligion and treason by a democratic court. They were persuaded, however, to allow the vote, whereupon Thrasybulus sailed to the Asiatic coast, brought Alcibiades to the island, and presented him to the assembled army. The lithe exile who had so bitterly denounced democracy, both in Sparta and in his correspondence with the oligarchic conspirators, adapted well to the sympathies of the democratic assembly now before him. He first regretted the exile sentence imposed on him, blaming not the injustice of his countrymen, but his own unhappy fate. He then entered the public prospects of the day, committed himself with full confidence to fulfilling the hopes of a Persian alliance, and boasted not only demonstratively but even extravagantly of the growing influence he possessed over Tissaphernes. The satrap had promised him (the speech continued) that once he trusted them, the Athenians would never want for anything; not even if it was necessary to spend your last darico or monetize your own silver sofa. Nor would he ask for more terms to trust them, except that Alcibiades be reinstated and his guarantee reinstated. Not only would he pay the Athenians, but he would also bring the Phoenician fleet already at Aspendus to their aid, instead of placing it at the disposal of the Peloponnesians.
In Alcibiades' communications with Peisander and his curates, Alcibiades asserted that the High King would not be trusted by the Athenians if they not only restored him but also abandoned his democracy. On this occasion, the last condition was dropped and it was assumed that the Great King's trust was more easily achieved. But although Alcibiades came forward with a new lie and a new vein of political sentiment, his speech was a resounding success. It served every purpose he could think of, partly to intimidate and divide the oligarchic conspirators at home, partly to glorify his own greatness in the eyes of armor, partly to sow distrust between the Spartans and Tissaphernes in order to crush the Four Hundred and win. his Peloponnesian enemies in Ionia, that hearers would scarcely examine the grounds on which his assurances rested. With full confidence and enthusiasm they elected him general, along with Thrasybulus and the others; Redoubled hopes of victory over his enemies both in Athens and Miletus arose. Indeed, their imaginations were so completely occupied with the prospect of Persian aid against their enemies in Ionia, that they were alarmed at the danger to Athens under the rule of the Four Hundred, the prevailing sentiment; and many voices were raised in favor of sailing to Piraeus to save the city. But Alcibiades, knowing well (something Armament did not) that his own Persian promises of pay and fleet were a mere farce, strongly discouraged a move which would have left the Ionian dependencies defenseless against the Peloponnesians. Once the assembly was dissolved, he returned to the mainland under the guise of taking coordinated action with Tissaphernes to fulfill his recent commitments.
Freed from the pains of exile, albeit not severely, Alcibiades thus launched a new career. Athens having played first against Sparta, then Sparta against Athens, third Tissaphernes against both, he now declared himself ready to resume the promotion of Athenian interests. In reality, however, he was always playing his own game or obeying his own interest, ambition or dislike. He was anxious at this time to demonstrate intimate and confidential communication with Tissaphernes, in order to impose something on the Athenians on Samos; inform the satrap of his recent election as general of the Athenian forces, so that his importance to the Persians might increase; and, finally, pacing back and forth from Tissaphernes to the Athenian camp to give the appearance of a friendly concert between the two, which might sow suspicion and apprehension in the minds of the Peloponnesians. In this tripartite maneuver so typical of his usual character he was more or less successful; especially with regard to the last purpose. For although he never had a serious chance of persuading Tissaphernes to help the Athenians, he helped to distance him from the enemy and his enemy.
The Ambassadors With no more delay in Tissaphernes' camp than necessary for the Athenians to continue to believe in his promise of Persian aid, Alcibiades returned to Samos, where he was met by the ten envoys sent from Athens by the Four Hundred. on your first arrival. These messengers had been on the road for a long time; after having spent a considerable stay on Delos, alarmed by the news of Chaereas' previous visit, and the furious indignation which his narrative had aroused. Finally they reached Samos and the generals asked them to reach an agreement with the assembled army. They had great difficulty getting their bearings, such was their dislike for them, so loud was the cry that those who would overthrow democracy must be killed. Finally obtaining silence, they explained that the belated revolution for the salvation of the city and, in particular, of the economy from the public purse, had suppressed the paid civic functions of democracy, thus leaving more salaries for the soldiers: than The change did not harm much least betrayed the enemy, which might already have happened, had such been the intention of the Four Hundred when Agis of Dekeleia advanced over the walls: that the citizens who now have political suffrage, not only the Four Hundred, but were five thousand in number, all taking turns in the places now occupied by the four hundred1: that the reasoning of Chereas confirms that the abuses made to the relatives of soldiers in Athens are entirely false and slanderous.
These were the questions on which the envoys insisted for a long time in an apologetic tone, but without appeasing the soldiers who listened to them. The general resentment of the Four Hundred was expressed by several present at public speeches, by others in private manifestations of sentiments against the envoys: and these sentiments were so passionately intensified: they consisted not only in rage at what the oligarchy had done, but also at afraid of what they might do - that the proposal to sail immediately to Piraeus was revived with greater fervor than before. Alcibiades, who had previously discredited this project, now came forward to reject it again. However, it took the full extent of his influence, then greater than that of any other armored officer, and aided by the esteemed character and loud voice of Thrasybulus, to stop him. Without him it would have been executed. While he berated and silenced those who most opposed the envoys, he took it upon himself to give them a public response in the name of collective weaponry. "We have no objection (he said) to the power of the Five Hundred, but the Four Hundred must go about their business and restore the Senate of the Five Hundred as it once was. We are very grateful for what you have done in terms of saving to increase the salary available to the soldiers. Above all, keep up the war vigorously without retreating before the enemy. For if the city is now safe, there is good hope that we can resolve the mutual differences between us by friendly agreement; but if one of us perishes, Whether it's us here or you at home, there's nothing left for the other to make up.
With this reply he dismissed the envoys; Armament reluctantly gave up its desire to sail to Athens. Thucydides is very insistent on the great service which Alcibiades did his country at that time in stopping a project which would have left all Ionia and the Hellespont defenseless against the Peloponnesians. As a result, his advice has undoubtedly proven its worth; but if we consider the state of affairs at the time, we tend to doubt whether prudent calculation was not for and against the armament drive. For what was to stop the Four Hundred from making peace with Sparta and bringing a Lacedaemonian garrison to Athens to help them maintain their rule? Ambition aside, this was her best, if not her only, chance of getting to safety; and we shall immediately see that they tried and were prevented from succeeding, partly by the mutiny that rose against them in Athens, but still more by the stupidity of the Lacedaemonians themselves. Alcibiades could not really imagine that the Four Hundred would obey. his commission given to envoys, and voluntarily relinquish his power. But if they remained masters of Athens, who could guess what they would do, having received this declaration of hostility from Samos, not only towards the foreign enemy, but also towards the relatives of the absent soldiers? Whether we look at the soldiers' legitimate fears, which were unavoidable while their loved ones were thus exposed, almost bewildering them in their utter uncertainty about domestic affairs in the face of the cordial continuation of the war abroad, or in the face of the opportunity of public calamity irreparable, even greater than the loss of Ionia, by Athens' betrayal of the enemy, we shall be inclined to conclude that the impulse to arm itself was not only natural, but based on an even more cautious estimation of the probabilities. was and that Alcibiades had nothing but luck in a blood company. And if, instead of actual probabilities, we look to the probabilities put forward by Alcibiades, and conceived by armament under his authority, viz. that the Phoenician fleet was at hand to act against the Lacedaemonians in Ionia, we shall be all the more sympathetic to the defensive movement at home. Alcibiades had an advantage over everyone else simply because he knew his own falsehoods.
At the same meeting envoys from Argos appeared, with a reconnaissance mission and an offer of assistance to the Athenian demos at Samos. They came in an Athenian trireme, sailed by the Parali, which had taken Chaereas to Athens from Samos on the Paralus, and then put them on a common warship and sent on a cruise across Euboea, as ordered, Laespodias, Aristophones and Melesias ascended to Sparta as ambassador of the Four Hundred. But crossing the Argolic Gulf, probably under orders to land at Prasiae, they declared themselves against the oligarchy, sailed to Argos, and there arrested the three ambassadors, all involved in the conspiracy of the Four Hundred. So, when they were about to leave for Samos, the Argians asked them to bring their envoys thither, who were dismissed by Alcibiades with an expression of gratitude and hope that his help was ready when called for.
Meanwhile, envoys from Samos returned to Athens and brought the grim news to the Four Hundred of their complete failure in armaments. Shortly before this, it seems, some of the trierarchs serving in the Hellespont had also returned to Athens: Eratosthenes, Iatrocles and others, who tried to use their squadron for the purposes of oligarchic conspirators, but for the indomitable democracy of their own. The sailors were confused and were expelled1. If in Athens the calculations of these conspirators succeeded more than might have been expected, everywhere they utterly failed; not only on Samos and in the fleet, but also in the Allied dependencies. When Peisander left Samoa to complete the oligarchic conspiracy even without Alcibiades, he and others bypassed many of the dependencies and carried out a similar revolution in their internal government, hoping that they would thereby join the new oligarchy in Athens. But this expectation (as Phrynychus had predicted) was nowhere realized. The newly created oligarchies just fought harder for complete autonomy than previous democracies. On Thassos in particular, a group of exiles who had lived for some time in the Peloponnese were recalled and active preparations were made for insurrection, both with new fortifications and new triremes. Instead of strengthening their grip on the naval empire, the Four Hundred found that they had actually weakened it; while the open hostility of armament at Samos not only destroyed all his external hopes, but made his situation at home utterly precarious.
From the moment Antiphon's curates learned of the proclamation of democracy on Samos, with the arrival of Chaereas in Athens, discord, suspicion, and disquiet began to spread even among their own members; along with the belief that oligarchy could only exist through the presence of a Peloponnesian garrison in Athens. While Antiphon and Phrynicus, the chief spirits who guided most of the Four Hundred, sent emissaries to Sparta to make peace, these emissaries never reached Sparta, they were captured by the Parali and sent captive to Argos, as mentioned above, and the war began. . . Building a special fortress at Ectioneia, the overhanging embankment which extended and dominated the narrow entrance to Piraeus on the north side, even within the Fourteenth century an oppositional minority began to emerge and influence popular sentiment, among whom the most prominent figures were Theramenes. and Aristocrats.
Although these men had distinguished themselves as inventors and actors throughout the conspiracy, they were now bitterly disappointed with the outcome. Individually, their rise among their peers was less than that of Peisander, Kallaeschrus, Phrynychus, and others; while, in general, the illicit power of the Four Hundred was lessened and threatened by the loss of the foreign empire, and the alienation of its Sami armament. Jealousy and squabbling now began among the successful conspirators, each of whom had entered the plan with unlimited expectations of personal ambition, each expecting to immediately take first place in the new oligarchic body. In a democracy, Thucydides comments, struggles for power and supremacy evoke less violent resentment and feelings of injustice between unsuccessful competitors than in an oligarchy; for defeated candidates submit with relatively little reluctance to the negative vote of a large mixed body of unknown citizens; but they are angry at being pushed aside by some well-known comrades, both their rivals and their ilk: moreover, at the moment when an oligarchy of ambitious men has just risen on the ruins of a democracy, every man is the conspirator. . exaggerated expectation; they all believe that they have the right to become the first man in the corps and feel dissatisfied if he is only equaled with the rest.
Such were the feelings of frustrated ambition mingled with dismay which a minority of the Four Hundred felt under arms immediately after the news of the proclamation of democracy on Samos. Theramenes, the leader of this minority, a man of great ambition, intelligent but insecure and treacherous, no less ready to defect from his party than to betray his country, though less prepared for extreme atrocities than many of his oligarchic comrades, he it started . he was looking for a good excuse to leave a precarious rural business. He took advantage of the deception that the Four Hundred themselves had about the fictitious Five Thousand, and insisted that it was necessary to publicize the party, since the dangers facing the newly formed authority were far more formidable than imagined by the man who inscribes and produces those five. . thousand as real bodies rather than fictional ones. Such opposition, formidable from the beginning, became even more daring and developed when the envoys from Samos returned and gave a report of their reception by the armour, as well as of the reply given on behalf of the armour, Alcibiades in command of the Four Hundred, to be dissolved immediately, but at the same time approved the constitution of the Five Thousand, combined with the restoration of the old Senate. To enlist all five thousand at once would be to meet the army halfway; and there was hope that at that price an agreement and reconciliation could be reached, which Alcibiades himself had said was feasible. In addition to the formal reply, the envoys no doubt brought evidence of the feelings of anger manifested by the armament and of their urge, uncontrollable by all but Alcibiades, to sail at once and save Athens from the Four Hundred. From this arose a growing conviction that the latter's rule could not last, and an ambition on the part of both the others and Theramenes to defend the Five Thousand as the leader of a popular opposition against them.
Against this popular resistance, Antiphon and Phrynychus fought with demagogic persistence to cherish and hold together the majority of the Four Hundred and keep their power intact. They were by no means willing to meet this demand to make the fiction of the five thousand a reality. They knew very well that the admission of so many members1 would amount to democracy and, at least in substance, if not in form, to the annihilation of their own power. Now they had gone too far to retreat safely; while Samos' menacing attitude, as well as the growing opposition to them at home, both within and outside his own corps, only served as an incentive to hasten his measures towards peace with Sparta and to obtain the establishment of a Spartan garrison. . .
With this view, immediately after the return of their envoys from Samos, the two chief leaders, Antiphon and Phrynychus; They rushed to Sparta with ten other colleagues, ready to buy peace and the promise of Spartan help at any cost. At the same time, the construction of Sectioneia's fortress was pursued with double zeal; under the pretense of defending the entrance to Piraeus against armament from Samos should the threat of their arrival become reality, but with the real purpose of bringing there a Lacedaemonian fleet and army. For this last object all possibilities were open. The northwest corner of the Piraeus fortification, north of the port and its mouth, was bisected by a transverse wall which ran south to join the port: from the south end of this transverse wall, and making an angle with it, it made A new wall was built in front of the port and extending to the end of the pier that narrowed the estuary of the port on the north side, this pier that met the end of the north wall of Piraeus. Thus a separate citadel was closed, which could be defended against any attack from Piraeus or the port; also provided with distinctively wide gates and side posts of their own, and arrangements for admitting an enemy into them. The new transverse wall was raised to pass through an enormous portico, or open market, the largest in Piraeus: the greater half of this portico was thus enclosed in the new citadel; and orders were issued that all grain, stored and subsequently imported into Piraeus, should be deposited there and sold for consumption. Athens subsisted almost exclusively on grain from Euboea and elsewhere since the permanent occupation of Dekeleia, by this decree the Four Hundred became masters of all the sustenance of the citizens, as well as the entrance to the harbour; either to permit the Spartans or to exclude armament from Samos.
Though Theramenes, himself one of the appointed generals among the Four Hundred, along with his followers denounced the treacherous purpose of this new citadel, the majority of the Four Hundred remained steadfast in their resolve, and construction proceeded rapidly under the general supervision of the General. . one of the most severe of the oligarchic faction. Such was the obedience in Athens to an established authority, once established, and such was the fear and suspicion that flowed from the general belief in the reality of the five thousand unknown helpers who should be ready to enforce the orders of the Four Hundred. ,—that the people, and even armed citizen hoplites, continued to work on the building despite their suspicions about its construction. Though not finished, it was advanced enough to be defended when Antiphon and Phrynicus returned from Sparta. They went there willing to give up everything, not only their naval forces, but their own city as well, and buy their own personal security by making the Lacedaemonians lords of Piraeus. However, we read with astonishment that the latter were not convinced to sign any contract and that they only showed delay in taking advantage of this golden opportunity. If Alcibiades had played his game now, as he had a year ago, just before the revolt of Chios, they would have been under the command of energetic leaders to compel them to co-operate heartily in the treachery of the Four Hundred, who had joined in with it. they had the will and power to get Athens in their hands, if backed by adequate force they might have subdued their great enemy at home before the armor of Samos could come to their rescue.
Considering that Athens was saved from conquest only by the carelessness and stupidity of the Spartans, we can see that arming Samos had a reasonable excuse for the previously stated eagerness to get home; and that Alcibiades, in fighting this design, faced an utter danger which was only averted by incredible luck. Why the Lacedaemonians remained idle both in the Peloponnese and at Dekeleia while Athens was thus betrayed, and precisely in the throes of dissolution, we cannot explain: it may have been the prudence of the ephors who distrusted a priori Antiphon and Phrinic the immensity of their concessions. . All they promised was that a Lacedaemonian fleet of forty-two triremes, partly withdrawn from Tarentum and Locri, was about to sail from Las in the Gulf of Laconia, and, at the invitation of a disaffected party on that island, would sail to Euboea. . . , he must turn away from his straight course to hover close to Aegina and Piraeus, ready to seize any attack opportunity presented by the Four Hundred.
From this squadron, however, even before rounding Cape Malea, Theramenes received information and denounced that he intended to operate with the Four Hundred for the occupation of Ectioneia. Meanwhile, after the failure of the embassy and the return of Antiphon and Phrynicus from Sparta, Athens became a daily scene of growing discontent and disorder. The enforced superiority of the Four Hundred was quietly fading away, while the hatred their usurpation had inspired, along with the fear of their treacherous deal with the enemy of the state, rang ever louder in the men's private conversations, as well as in secret meetings in various households. ; especially the home of the peripolar chief, the captain of the peripolis, or the young hoplites who formed the supreme police of the country. This hatred did not allow the violent passion to act for a long time. Phrynichus was murdered in the middle of the crowded market and in broad daylight, as he left the Senate building, by two Confederates, one of whom was a peripol, or juvenile hoplite. The man he struck fled, but his companion was captured and tortured by order of the Four Hundred: he was, however, a stranger in Argos and could not or would not reveal the name of an older accomplice. Nothing was received from him except general references to meetings and general discontent. The Four Hundred, thus left without particular evidence, dared not touch Theramenes, the Frankish leader of the opposition, as we shall find him at Critias six years later, under the rule of the Thirty. Phrynichus' assassins went unnoticed and unpunished, Theramenes and his companions resisted more courageously than before. And the approach of the Lacedaemonian fleet under Agesandrids, which, being now stationed at Epidaurus, had descended at Aegina and appeared not far from Piraeus, well off the direct course for Euboea, gave double force to their former claims. the immediate dangers connected with the citadel of Ectioneia.
Amidst this exaggerated unrest and dissension, hoplites in general were seized with a growing distaste for the new citadel. Finally, the hoplites of the tribe, in which Aristocrates, the staunchest supporter of Theramenes, was Taxiarch, on duty and engaged in the pursuit of the building, mutinied against him, seizing the person of Alexicles, the general in command. , and imprison him in a neighboring house; while the peripoli, or youth military police stationed in Munyehia under Hermon's command, assisted them in the process. News of this violence was quickly conveyed to the Four Hundred, who were then in session in the Senate Chamber, with Theramenes himself in attendance. His anger and threats were initially directed at him as the instigator of the riot, a position he could only justify by volunteering to be one of the first to release the prisoner. He immediately left in haste for Piraeus, accompanied by one of the generals, a colleague of his, who shared his political leanings. A third among the generals, Aristarchus, one of the most ferocious oligarchs, followed him, probably out of suspicion, along with some of the younger knights, knights or the richest class in the state, who identified themselves with the cause of the Four Hundred. . Supporters of the oligarchy rushed to arm themselves, with alarming exaggerations rumors that Alexicles had been executed and that Piraeus was under armed occupation; while the Piraeus insurgents imagined that the city's hoplites were marching to attack them. For a while, all was confusion and rage, which the slightest unfortunate accident could have unleashed into bloody bourgeois carnage. It was not appeased, except by earnest treaties and protests from the elder citizens, aided by Thucydides of Pharsalus, Proxenus, or public guest of Athens, in his native city in the ruinous madness of such discord when a foreign enemy was near its gates.
The dangerous excitement of this temporary crisis, which brought out the true political feelings of all men, showed that the oligarchic faction, hitherto outnumbered, was far less powerful than its opponents had supposed. And the Four Hundred were too ashamed to maintain the appearance of their authority, even in Athens itself, to be able to send a considerable force to guard their citadel at Ectioneia; although they were reinforced by at least one additional member just eight days before their fall, presumably to replace an accidentally deceased predecessor. When Theramenes reached Piraeus, he began to pacify the rebellious hoplites to appease their feigned discontent, while Aristarchus and his fellow oligarchists spoke in the harshest language, threatening them with the violence they thought was about to descend on the city. But these threats were answered with equal determination by the hoplites, who even turned to Theramenes himself, demanding that he say whether he thought the building of this citadel was for the good of Athens, or whether it would not be better to destroy it. His opinion had already been expressed in full; and he replied that when they wanted to overthrow him, he wholeheartedly agreed. Without further delay, the hoplites and unarmed men rushed to the walls in confusion and began to demolish; under the general cry, "He that is for the five thousand instead of the four hundred, help him in this work." The idea of the old democracy was on everyone's lips, but no one said the word; the fear of the imaginary five thousand still persists. Demolition work appears to have continued throughout the day and was not completed until the next day; Afterwards, the hoplites released Alexicles from prison without harming him.
Among these details, two things that illustrate the Athenian character deserve to be highlighted. Though Alexicles was vehemently oligarchic and unpopular, these mutineers do him no harm and are content to imprison him. So they dare not begin demolishing the citadel until they have formal approval from Theramenes, one of the appointed generals. The strong habit of legality instilled in all Athenian citizens by their democracy, and the concern to deviate from it as little as possible, even when they deviate from it, are evident in this procedure.
The events of that day dealt a fatal blow to the rise of the Four Hundred; However, tomorrow they gathered as usual in the Senate building; and it seems that now, when it was too late, they sent one of their members to make a real list that gave shape to the fiction of the Five Thousand. Meanwhile, the Piraeus hoplites, having destroyed the new fortifications, took the still more important step, armed as they were, of entering the Theater of Dionysus, very close to Piraeus, but outside Munychia, and celebrating a solemn act there. Assembly; probably under the summons of General Theramenes, according to the forms of the former democracy. They resolved here to adjourn their meeting at the Anakeion, or Temple of Castor and Pollux, the Dioskuri, in the city itself, and just below the Acropolis; where they marched and settled immediately, still guarding their weapons. The position of the Four Hundred had so changed that they, who had been aggressive the day before against a spontaneous outbreak of mutineers in Piraeus, were now on the defensive against a formal meeting, all armed, in and around the city. his own senate house. Feeling too weak to use force, they sent deputies to Anakeion to negotiate and offer concessions. They pledged to publish the list of the Five Thousand and to summon them to order the completion and periodical renewal of the Four Hundred, by rotation of the Five Thousand, in the order they themselves determine. But they asked that time be allowed to effect this, and that inward peace be preserved, without which there is no hope of defense against the enemy. Many of the city's hoplites joined the assembly at the Anakeion and took part in the discussions. As the position of the Four Hundred was no longer frightening, the tongues of the orators loosened up again and the ears of the crowd opened up again, for the first time since the arrival of Peisander of Samos, to the plan of the oligarchic conspiracy. This renewal of free and courageous public speech, the peculiar life-principle of democracy, was no less salutary for allaying internal discord than it was for awakening a feeling of common patriotism against the foreign enemy.The assembly finally dispersed, having appointed a future time for a second assembly to bring about the restoration of harmony in the Theater of Dionysus.
On the day and hour when this assembly was about to assemble in the Theater of Dionysus, news spread throughout Piraeus and Athens that the forty-two triremes commanded by the Lacedaemonian Agesandrids had recently left the port of Megara and were sailing to along the coast of Salamis. in the direction of Piraeus. Such an event, which caused general consternation throughout the city, confirmed all of Theramenes' earlier warnings of the treacherous purpose of the recently destroyed citadel, and everyone rejoiced that the demolition had been accomplished just in time. The citizens renounced the scheduled assembly, and by common consent hastened to Piraeus, where some of them stationed themselves to man the walls and entrance of the harbour; others boarded the triremes that were in the harbor, and still others launched some new triremes from the berths. Agesandridas was rowing along the coast near the mouth of Piraeus; but he found nothing that promised an inward concert, or that tempted him to the intended attack. Accordingly, he passed and headed towards Sunium in a southerly direction. After rounding Cape Sunio, he changed his course north along the coast of Attica, stopping for a moment between Thoricus and Prasiae, and soon came to rest at Oropus.
Though relieved to find that Piraeus had passed without attacking, the Athenians knew that their objective must now be against Euboea; which was no less important to them than Piraeus, as their main supply came from that island. So they immediately put to sea with all the triremes that could be manned and prepared in port. But, owing to the haste of the occasion, together with the suspicion and discord which now reigned, and the absence of their large naval forces from Samos, the crews assembled were coarse and ill-chosen, and the armament ineffective. Polystratos, one of the Four Hundred, and perhaps others, were on board; Men who were more interested in losing than winning. Thymochares, the admiral, led them around Cape Sunium to Eretria on Euboea, where he found other triremes that made up his entire fleet of thirty-six sails.
Scarcely had he reached the port and disembarked, when, without giving his men time to freshen up, he was forced to face the forty-two ships of Agesandridas, which had just left Oropus and were already approaching the harbour. This surprise was provoked by the anti-Athenian faction of Eretria, who, on Timocares' arrival, made sure that no food was found in the market, forcing his men to disperse and lead them out of the houses at the back of the village. ; while a sign was made at the same time, visible on Oropus on the opposite side of the stretch, less than seven miles wide, indicating to Agesandridas the precise moment to cross his fleet to attack, with his crews fresh after the food there Morning. Seeing the approach of the enemy, Timocares ordered his men to embark; but, to his disappointment, many of them were so far away that they could not return in time, so he was forced to set sail and face the Peloponnese in ships with very light crews. In a battle outside the port of Eretria, after a brief fight, he was soundly defeated and his fleet driven back to shore. Some of his ships escaped to Chalcis, others to a fortified post manned by the Athenians themselves, not far from Eretria;However, no fewer than twenty-two triremes of thirty-six in all fell to Agesandrids, and much of the crew was killed or taken prisoner. Many of the sailors who escaped also met their death at the hands of the Eretrians, in whose city they had taken refuge. Upon learning of this battle, not only Eretria, but also all of Euboea, with the exception of Oreo, in the north of the island, populated by Athenian clerics, declared their rebellion against Athens, which had been planned more than a year before. . , and took measures together with Agesandrids and the Boeotians for self-defence.
Athens could hardly bear a catastrophe so great in itself, and made worse by the present desperate condition of the city. Its last fleet was destroyed, its nearest and most valuable island was torn from its side; an island that had recently ceded more than Attica itself, but was now on the verge of becoming a hostile and aggressive neighbor. The earlier Euboean rebellion, which took place thirty-four years earlier, during the height of Athenian power, dealt a terrible blow to Athens, and was one of the main circumstances that forced her to undergo the humiliation of the Thirty Years' Truce. . . But this second rising took place when he not only had no chance of retaking the island, but not even of defending Piraeus from the blockade of the enemy fleet. The consternation and horror that the news caused in Athens knew no bounds, surpassing even the senses after the catastrophe in Sicily or the rebellion on Chios. Nor was there now a second reserve in the treasury, like the thousand talents that had done such important service on the last occasion. Adding to the dangers abroad, the Athenians were further crushed by two almost unbearable intestinal disasters: the alienation of their own fleet at Samos, and the still unresolved discord within their own walls; where the Four Hundred still provisionally held the reins of government, with the ablest and most ruthless leaders at their head. In the depths of their despair, the Athenians expected nothing less than to see Agesandrids' victorious fleet - over sixty triremes strong, including recent conquests - off the coast of Piraeus, banning all imports and threatening them with imminent famine, in combination with Agis and Dekeleia. The undertaking would have been easy, as there were neither ships nor sailors to repel it; and their arrival at this critical time would probably have enabled the Four Hundred to continue their rise, with the means and will to introduce a Lacedaemonian garrison into the city. And even if the arrival of the Athenian fleet from Samos had prevented this extreme, it could not have arrived in time, except in the case of a prolonged blockade: besides, its mere transfer from Samos to Athens would have left Ionia and the Hellespont defenseless against the Lacedaemonians and Persians and would have caused the loss of the entire Athenian empire. Nothing could have saved Athens if the Lacedaemonians had acted with reasonable force at the time, instead of limiting their efforts to Euboea, now an easy and secure conquest. As then, when Antiphon and Phrinicus went to Sparta, willing to make any sacrifice to furnish aid and shelter to the Lacedaemonians, Athens owed her salvation the more to the fact that the enemies, indeed before them, were indolent and indolent Spartans. , non-enterprising Syracusans driven by Gylippus. And this is, we might add, the second time that Athens has been brought to the brink of ruin as a result of Alcibiades' policy of keeping arms in Samos.
Fortunately for the Athenians, Agesandridas did not appear before Piraeus; so that the twenty triremes they instilled in man as a remnant for defense had no enemy to repel. Consequently, the Athenians were able to enjoy a respite that allowed them to partially recover from discouragement and intestinal disharmony. When the enemy fleet failed to appear, his first course of action was to call a public meeting, on the Pnyx itself, the usual scene of democratic meetings, suitable to revive that patriotism which had lain silent and dormant for the past four months. . . At this assembly, the wave of opinion was vehemently against the Four Hundred: even those who had originally recommended their appointment, such as the Probuli Council of Elders, now denounced them along with the others, though they were harshly ridiculed by the oligarchic leader Peisander for their inconsistency. The votes were finally passed: 1. Depose the Four Hundred; 2. Put all government in the hands of the five thousand; 3. Every citizen who put up armor for himself or anyone else was to be a member of that body of five thousand; 4. No citizen shall be held in any political office under threat of a solemn curse or excommunication. These were the points agreed upon in the first meeting on the Pnyx. The Archons, the Senate of the Five Hundred, etc., were renewed; After that, many other assemblies were also held, in which nomothetae, dikasts and other institutions essential for the functioning of democracy were formed. Several other tunings were also made; one in particular, at the suggestion of Critias, aided by Theramenes, to bring back Alcibiades and some of his friends from exile; Meanwhile, messages continued to be sent to him and to the Armament on Samos, no doubt confirming the recent appointment of generals, informing them of recent events in Athens, and testifying to his full approval and uninterrupted efforts against the common enemy.
Thucydides makes a remarkable hymn to the general spirit of moderation and patriotic harmony which now prevailed in Athens and which guided the political processes of the people. But he does not endorse the faith as it has sometimes been understood, nor is it really true that they have now instituted a new constitution. They ended the oligarchy and the government of the Four Hundred and apparently restored the old democracy with only two modifications: first, the partial suppression of the right to vote; then, the cessation of all payments for political office. The impeachment proceedings against Antiphon, which were negotiated shortly thereafter, were conducted before the Senate and the Dicastery exactly according to the old democratic procedures. But we must suppose that the senate, the dicates, the nomothetes, the ecclesiastics or burghers who attended the assembly, the public speakers, prosecuting the criminals of the state, or upholding a law when challenged, worked without pay during this time. Need to have.
Furthermore, the two modifications mentioned above had little practical effect. The exclusive body of five thousand citizens that was supposed to be constituted at this time has not exactly been realized or maintained for very long. It was now constituted more as a nominal limit than a real one; a nominal sum, but no longer just a space as the four hundred had originally produced, but actually containing a number of individual names exceeding the sum, and without an assignable line of demarcation. The very fact that anyone who wore armor had the right to be among the five thousand, and not only them but the rest as well, shows that he was not bound by that number or any other precise number. If we may attribute it to a speech composed by Lysias, even after the demolition of their pretended stronghold in Ectioneia, and when the power passed from their hands, the Four Hundred appointed a committee among themselves, to draw up for the first time a royal list of the Five Thousand; and Polystratus, a member of that committee, commends the succeeding democracy for making the list nine thousand names instead of five thousand. As this list was neither published nor adopted by Polystratus, if it ever existed, I only comment on the description given to illustrate my position that the number five thousand is now understood by all to be an indefinite term for broad but not universal suffrage. . The number had been invented by Antiphon and the leaders of the Four Hundred to conceal their own usurpation and intimidate the democracy: so it served the purpose of Theramenes and the minority of the Four Hundred, as a basis on which they were brought up in a sort of dynastic opposition, to use modern language, within the limits of the oligarchy; that is, without appearing to transgress principles recognized by the oligarchy itself: after all, it was widely used by the Democratic Party as a convenient means of returning to the old system with as little controversy as possible; because Alcibíades and the Armed Forces reported back home that they were committed to the five thousand and the abolition of salaried civil offices.
But the exclusive suffrage of the so-called five thousand, especially with the expansive numerical construction now adopted, was of little value either to them or to the state; at the same time, it was an offensive blow to the feelings of the marginalized crowd, especially the brave and active sailors like the Parali. Though wise as a temporary transitional step, it could not be maintained, nor could any attempt be made, in the midst of a community long accustomed to universal citizenship, and where the necessities of defense against the enemy required vigorous efforts by all to preserve the citizens. .
Even as to unpaid offices, the Five Thousand themselves would soon tire, no less than the poorest freemen, of serving unpaid as senators or otherwise; so that nothing but an absolute financial deficit would prevent the full or partial restoration of wages. And this deficit was never so complete that it prevented the payment of the diobelio, that is, the distribution of two oboli to each citizen on the occasion of the various religious festivals. This distribution continued without interruption; although perhaps the number of occasions on which it has been performed has been reduced.
How far, or under what restrictions, the re-establishment of civil pay took place in the seven years between the Four Hundred and Thirty, we cannot say. But, without deciding this point, we can show that a year after the deposition of the Four Hundred, the suffrage of the so-called Five Thousand was extended to the suffrage of all Athenians without exception, or to antecedent full democracy. A memorable decree issued about eleven months after this event -at the beginning of the Archon of Glaucipus (June 410 BC of ancient democratic practice-) shows us full democracy not only in action, but in all the splendor of sentiment that seems to be thought of. This first renewal of archons and other officials under the restored democracy was to be marked by an emphatic display of feeling, analogous to the solemn and heartfelt oath taken at Samos the year before. Consequently, Demofanto proposed and implemented a (psephism or) decree that prescribed the form of an oath that all Athenians must take to adhere to the democratic constitution.
The expressions of his sephism and oath are impressive. "If anyone undermines democracy in Athens, or occupies any magistracy after democracy has been undermined, he will be an enemy of the Athenians. Execute him with impunity and confiscate his property for the public with a tithe reserved for Athena (the goddess) May the man who killed him and the accomplice who is initiated into the act are considered saints and have a good religious smell.Make all Athenians swear under the sacrifice to kill adult victims in their respective tribes and demes to him. The oath is as follows:"If I can, I will kill with my own hands any man who undermines democracy in Athens, or who takes office in the future after democracy is undermined, or who takes up arms to do so and becomes a despot, or to help the despot establish himself. And if anyone else kills him, I will have the assassin sacred to both gods and demons, as he killed an enemy of the Athenians. And I promise by word, deed, and vow to sell his property and pay the assassin more half the proceeds without withholding. If anyone dies killing or trying to kill the despot, I will be kind to him and his sons, as well as to Harmodius and Aristogeiton and their descendants. And I hereby break and renounce all oaths taken hostile to the people of Athens, whether in Athens or in the camp (near Samos) or elsewhere All Athenians do this as the regular oath immediately before the Feast of Dionysus with sacri services and adult sacrifices; conjure up things b oas in abundance to him who keeps them; but whoever breaks them ruins himself and his family.
Such was the remarkable decree which the Athenians, less than a year after the deposition of the Four Hundred, not only issued in the senate and public assembly, but also engraved it on a pillar at the door of the house. Senate. This clearly shows that not only has democracy returned, but also an unusual intensity of democratic feeling. The constitution which all Athenians pledged themselves to uphold with the sternest defenses must have been a constitution in which all Athenians had political rights, not one of the privileged five thousand to the exclusion of others. This decree became invalid after the expulsion of the Thirty by the general decision then taken not to apply the laws made before the Archon of Eukledes, unless specifically re-enacted. But the pillar it was engraved on remained, and at least someone could read the words on it. until the time of the orator Lycurgus, eighty years later.
However, the mere deposition of the Four Hundred and the transfer of political power to the Five Thousand, which took place at the first public assembly after the defeat at Eretria, was enough to spur most of the violent leaders of the Four Hundred to immediately leave Athens. Peisander, Alexicles, and others secretly went to Dekeleia: only Aristarchus made his flight the means of inflicting a fresh wound on his country. As one of the generals, he took advantage of this authority to march with some of the crudest Scythian archers, who did police duty in the city, to Oenoe, on the border of Boeotia, besieged by a band of Corinthians and boyots. United. Aristarchus reported to the garrison with the besiegers and informed them that Athens and Sparta had just made peace, one of the conditions of which was that Oenoe be handed over to the Boeotians. Therefore, as a general, he ordered them to evacuate the place, under the benefit of a truce, to return home. The garrison, kept hermetically sealed and ignorant of the current state of politics, obeyed the order unreservedly; so that ships seized this most important frontier position, a new thorn in Athens' side, near Dekeleia.
Thus, Athenian democracy was restored and the divorce between the city and the armament of Samos ended after an interruption of about four months by the successful conspiracy of the Four Hundred. It was only by some kind of miracle - or rather, by the incredible delay and stupidity of her foreign enemies - that Athens escaped with her life this shameful attack by her own ablest and wealthiest citizens. For the victorious democracy to admonish and punish the main actors involved, who satisfied their own selfish ambition at the cost of so much suffering, fear and danger to their country, was nothing short of harsh justice. But the circumstances of the case were peculiar: the counter-revolution had been carried out in part with the help of a minority among the Four Hundred themselves - Theramenes, Aristocrates and others, together with the council of elders called the Probuli - all who have since been leaders, beginners or accomplices in the system of terrorism and assassinations that overthrew democracy and installed oligarchic rulers in the Senate. The conspiracy's past operations, therefore, though they were among its worst features, could not be subjected to investigation and trial without compromising these parties as fellow criminals. Theramenes avoided this difficulty by choosing for the challenge a recent act of the majority of the Four Hundred, against which he and his supporters had resisted, and in which, therefore, he was contrary neither to justice nor to popular sentiment. He was on the front line to denounce the last embassy sent to Sparta by the Four Hundred, sent with instructions to buy peace and alliances at almost any price, and which was connected with the building of the fort of Ectioneia for the reception of an enemy garrison in connection with it. This act of flagrant treason, involving Antiphon, Phrynicus, and ten other known envoys, was chosen as a special matter for public trial and punishment, no less for public reasons than for its own favor in renewed democracy. But the fact that it was Theramenes who thus denounced his old friends and accomplices, having thrown hand and heart into their earlier and no less culpable acts, was long remembered as an insidious betrayal, and in later days was used as a excuse for the crime. most terrible injustice to himself.
Of the twelve envoys who embarked on this quest, all but Phrynychus, Antiphon, Archeptolemus, and Onomakles seem to have already fled to Dekkleia or elsewhere. Phrynychus, as I mentioned a few pages above, had been killed a few days earlier. In honor of his memory, the restored Senate of the Five Hundred had already passed a vote of condemnation ordering the confiscation of his property and the demolition of his home, as well as granting citizenship and monetary compensation to two foreigners who claimed to have murdered him. The other three, Antiphon, Archeptolemus, and Onomacles, were by name presented to the Senate by the generals, among whom was probably Theramenes, because some of them had embarked on an enemy ship on a mission to Sparta to do damage to Athens, partly to the Spartan garrison in Dekeleia. After this presentation, doubtless a document of some length and detail, a senator named Andron requested: that the generals, assisted by ten senators of their choice, arrest the three defendants and hold them in custody for trial; that the Thesmothetae send each of the three a formal summons to prepare the trial for treason before the Dicastery on a future day and present them to the tribunal on the said day; assisted by the generals, by the ten senators elected as auxiliaries, and by any other citizens who wish to assist as their proxies. Each of the three was to be tried individually and, if found guilty, tried according to the city's Penal Code against traitors or high-ranking traitors.
Although the three persons thus designated were, or at least ought to have been, in Athens on the day the senate passed this decree, Onomacles had fled execution; so that Antiphon and Archeptolemus were arrested for trial only. They too must have had ample opportunity to leave the city, and we might have conjectured that Antiphon would have found it as necessary to withdraw as Peisander and Alexicles. A man as perceptive as he was, and by no means very popular, should have known that now, at least, he had drawn his sword against his fellow citizens in a way that could never be forgiven. However, he voluntarily chose to stay: and this man who had given orders to remove so many Democratic speakers for private murder received full notice and a fair trial from Democracy, when he got it, on a clear and specific charge. The speech which he delivered in his defence, though he did not obtain acquittal, was heard not only with patience, but also with admiration; as we may judge from the powerful and lasting effect it produced. Thucydides describes it as the greatest defense against the death penalty he ever encountered; and the poet Agathon, undoubtedly a listener, warmly congratulated Antiphon on her eloquence; to which the latter replied, that in his eyes the consent of so shrewd a judge was ample compensation for the cruel judgment of the mob. Both he and Archeptolemus were found guilty by the Dicastery and sentenced to high treason. They were handed over to the magistrates called the Eleven, chiefs of the executive justice in Athens, to be killed with the usual drink of hemlock. Their goods were confiscated, their houses razed to the ground, and the vacant site marked with columns with the inscription: "The residence of the traitor Antiphon - the traitor Archeptolemus." They were not allowed to be buried in Attica or any area under Athenian rule. Their children, legitimate and illegitimate, were stripped of their citizenship; and the citizen who adopts a child of one of them must also be deprived of his rights.
This was the verdict of the dicastery under the Athenian treason law. It was to be engraved on the same bronze pillar as the decree of honor for Phrynicus' assassins. It was transcribed from this column and therefore went down in history.
We do not know how many of the four hundred oligarchs were actually tried or punished; but there is reason to believe that no one died except Antiphon and Archeptolemus, perhaps also Aristarchus, the Oinoe traitor to the Boeotians. The latter is said to have been formally tried and convicted; though he fell into Athenian hands by accident, once he escaped we do not know. Peisander's property, which had escaped, was confiscated and given in whole or in part as compensation to Apollodorus, one of the murderers of Phrinicus; the property of other notable fugitive oligarchs was probably also confiscated. Polystratos, another of the Four Hundred, who had joined this body just a few days before its fall, was put on trial in his absence, which his defense lawyers later explained by saying that he had been wounded in the naval battle of Eretria, and high fee penalty. It appears that each of the Four Hundred was required to undergo a process of examination and accountability, in accordance with common practice in Athens upon the resignation of judges. Those who did not attend the trial were fined, exiled, or convicted of treason, but most of those who did appear to have been acquitted; in part, we are told, by bribing logisticians or auditors, though some were sentenced to fines or partial political disability, along with the hoplites who had been the most prominent followers of the Four Hundred.
Though we dimly see the particular course of action of the Athenian people in this restoration of democracy, we know from Thucydides that their prudence and moderation were exemplary. The eulogy he utters so emphatically on this point is indeed doubly remarkable: first, because he comes from a pro-democratic exile and a great admirer of the antiphon; secondly, because the moment itself was an extreme attempt at popular morality, and was likely to degenerate by an almost natural tendency into reactionary excess of revenge and persecution. Democracy was now a hundred years old since Cleisthenes, and fifty years even since the last reforms of Ephialtes and Pericles; so that self-government and political equality were part of every man's common feeling, reinforced in this case by the fact that Athens was not only a democracy, but an imperial democracy, with foreign dependencies. At a time when, due to unprecedented past disasters, it can barely sustain the fight against its foreign enemies, a small group of its own wealthiest citizens exploiting its weakness, weaves nothing short of a web of deceit and violence. in concentrating state power in their own hands and wresting from their countrymen their security against misrule, a sense of equal citizenship and long-established freedom of expression. And that's not all: these conspirators not only establish oligarchic suzerainty in the Senate, but also reinforce that suzerainty by inviting a foreign garrison from abroad and betraying Athens to their Peloponnesian enemies. Two other fatal injuries are impossible to imagine; and none of them would have escaped Athens had their foreign enemy shown due zeal. Considering the immensity of the danger, the close flight, and the desolate conditions in which Athens was left despite her flight, we might expect a ferocity of reactionary hostility among the people, as any calm observer who has to endure provocation must expect. have condemned anyway; and perhaps something analogous to the despair which, under very similar circumstances, caused the bloody massacres of Corcyra. And when we discover that this is the occasion which Thucydides, a rather impartial observer, chooses to extol their good behavior and restraint, we are deeply sensible of the good habits which their ancient democracy must have instilled in them and which now serve as a corrective. to the impulse of the present moment. They became familiar with the cementing power of a shared feeling; they learned to hold sacred the inviolability of justice and law, even in the face of their worst enemy; and, not least, the frequency and freedom of political discussion taught them not only to substitute disputes of the tongue for those of the sword, but also to understand their situation, with its present and future obligations, instead of rushing through retrospective revenge. blind in the past.
There are few contrasts in Greek history more memorable or instructive than this oligarchic conspiracy, led by some of the ablest hands of Athens, and the democratic movement that was taking place at the same time on Samos under Athenian armor and the Sami took over. citizens. In the first, from the outset we have nothing but selfishness and personal ambition: first, an association to assume government for one's own benefit; Then, having achieved this goal, a break between the partners, arising from an equally selfish disappointment. We found appeals only to the worst trends; whether tricks to exercise the credulity of the people, or extrajudicial executions to assuage fear. On the other hand, in the latter, the feeling invoked is that of shared patriotism and egalitarian and public sympathy. What do we read in Thucydides, when the armored soldiers and Sami citizens united by solemn oaths to defend their democracy, maintain harmony and goodwill among themselves, vigorously pursue war against the Peloponnesians and enmity with the oligarchy. conspirators in Athens to stay, - is one of the most dramatic and inspiring scenes in its history. Furthermore, we see in Samos the same lack of reactionary revenge as in Athens, after the onslaught of the oligarchs, both Athenian and Samian, had been repulsed; though these oligarchs began the murder of Hyperbolus and others. Throughout this democratic movement in Samos there is a lavish exaltation of common feeling over the personal, and at the same time an absence of ferocity towards opponents such as nothing but democracy ever inspired in the Greeks.
It is true that this was a peculiar movement of generous enthusiasm, and that the details of democratic government only imperfectly correspond to it. Neither in the life of an individual nor in the life of a people does the ordinary and common movement seem worthy of those special positions when a man rises above his own level and becomes capable of utter devotion and heroism. And yet such emotions, though their total sway is ever transient, have their basis in veins of feeling which do not entirely die out even in other ages, but which are among the many forces which strive to modify and improve human action. , if they can't. . control it. Even their moments of temporary superiority leave a bright mark and make the men who surpassed them more willing to receive the same generous boost again on a smaller scale. One of the merits of Greek democracy is that it evoked this sense of patriotic and egalitarian community: sometimes and on rare occasions, like the Samos scene, with overwhelming intensity to excite a unanimous crowd; more often on weaker tides, but which gave an honest and eloquent orator an opportunity to appeal successfully to public sentiment against corruption or selfishness. If we follow the movements of Antiphon and his fellow conspirators in Athens, contemporary with the democratic manifestations in Samos, we shall see that not only was there not so generous an impulse in him, but that the success of their plan depended on their being able to overthrow all patriotism, common and active in the heart of Athens. Under the "cold shadow" of their oligarchy - even if we suspect the absence of cruelty and rapacity which would probably soon have spread had their rule lasted, as we shall soon learn from the history of the second oligarchy of the Thirty - not feeling in the crowd the Athenians would have remained, except for fear, submission, or, at best, a meek and foolish reluctance toward leaders they neither chose nor controlled. For those who distinguish different forms of government primarily by the feelings each tends to evoke in officials and citizens alike, contemporary scenes from Athens and Samos will suggest insightful comparisons between Greek oligarchy and Greek democracy.
CHAPTER 63
ATHENSIAN DEMOCRACY RESTORED AFTER THE DEPOSITION OF THE FOUR CENTURIES UNTIL THE ARRIVAL OF THE YOUNG CYRUS IN ASIA MINOR.
The oligarchy of the Four Hundred in Athens, who died around February or March 411 B.C. installed in the Senate Chamber, and deposed about July of that year, after four or five months of dangers and distractions which had placed them almost within reach of their enemies, it now ended with the restoration of their democracy; with the circumstances accompanying it, has been described in detail. I turn now to military and naval operations on the Asian coast, some of which took place concurrently with the political struggles in Athens described above.
It has already been reported that the Peloponnesian fleet of ninety-four triremes, having been idle at Rhodes for no less than eighty days, had returned to Miletus at the end of March; with the intention of rescuing Chios, which part of the Athenian armor under Strombicidas had been besieging for some time and now urgently needed. However, the main Athenian fleet on Samos prevented Astyochus from achieving this objective, as he did not consider it advisable to risk a general battle. He was influenced partly by bribery, partly by the ruse of Tissaphernes, who was only trying to wear both sides down by a protracted war, and who now declared that he was about to bring the Phoenician fleet to his aid. Astyochos had in his fleet the ships that crossed the Hellespont to work with Pharnabazus, and therefore they too failed to reach their destination. To meet this difficulty, the Spartan Derkyllidas was sent with a land force to the Hellespont to join Pharnabazus in attacking Abydos and the neighboring possessions of Athens. Abydos, connected with Miletus by colonial ties, gave the example of the revolt in Athens to Dercyllidas and Pharnabazus; An example followed two days later from the neighboring village of Lampsakus.
There does not seem to be an Athenian force on the Hellespont at this time; and the news of this danger to the empire in a new country, when it was brought to Chios, alarmed Strombicidas, the commander of the Athenian siege weapons. Although the Chians - driven to despair by increasing famine as well as the lack of help from Astyochus - had recently increased their fleet to thirty-six triremes against the Athenians' thirty-two, with the arrival of twelve ships under Leon's command, taken from Miletus, during the absence of Astiochus from Rhodes, failed and fought a stubborn naval battle against the Athenians with some advantage, but the Strombicides felt compelled to take at once twenty-four triremes and a group of hoplites to relieve the Hellespont. . Thus, the Chians became masters of the sea enough to resupply, although the Athenian armament and fortified post still remained on the island. Astyochos also managed to recall Leon to Miletus with the twelve triremes and thus strengthen his main fleet.
The present seems to have been the time when the oligarchic party both in the city and in the camp of Samos, as already stated, laid out its plan of conspiracy, and when the Athenian generals were divided and Charminus allied with this party, Leo and Diomedon against . Astyochus, aware of the difference of opinion, thought it a good opportunity to sail his entire fleet to the port of Samos and offer battle; but the Athenians were unable to leave the harbor. He accordingly returned to Miletus, where he again lazily awaited the real or pretended arrival of the Phoenician ships. But the discontent of his own troops, especially the Syracuse contingent, soon became uncontrollable. Not only did they mutter about the idleness of armament during that precious moment of contention in the Athenian camp, but they also exposed the insidious policy of Tissaphernes, thus wasting their energies in vain; a policy which made still more evident his feelings for his irregularity in the provision of wages and food which caused him serious distress. To quiet their noise, Astyochus was forced to call a general assembly, which voted for immediate battle. Accordingly, he set out from Miletus with his entire fleet of one hundred and twelve triremes around the promontory of Mycale directly opposite Samos, and ordered the Miletus hoplites to cross the promontory by land to the same point. The Athenian fleet, now reduced to just eighty-two sails in the absence of Strombicides, was moored near Glauke on the mainland of Mycale; However, when they realized the public decision to fight that the Peloponnesians had just taken, they withdrew to Samos, not wanting to deal with such small numbers.
It seems that it was during this last period of inactivity on the part of Astyochos that the oligarchic party of Samos made its attempt and failed; the reaction of which this attempt, with little delay, produced the great democratic demonstration, and the solemn common oath of the Athenian armour, together with the appointment of new generals, cordial and unanimous. They were in high spirits now, eager to engage the enemy, and the Strombicides were immediately called in to unite the fleet against the main enemy at Miletus. This officer had recaptured Lampsacus but failed in his attack on Abydos. Having established a fortified central station at Sestos, he now joined the fleet at Samos, which his arrival increased to one hundred and eight sails. It arrived during the night, as the Peloponnesian fleet was preparing to resume its attack from Mycale the following morning. It consisted of one hundred and twelve ships and therefore outnumbered the Athenians. But now, having experienced both the arrival of the Strombicides and the renewed spirit and unanimity of the Athenians, the Peloponnesian commanders did not dare maintain their battle resolve. They returned to Miletus, into whose mouth the Athenians had sailed, and had the satisfaction of offering battle to a reluctant enemy.
Such an admission of inferiority served to further aggravate the displeasure of the Peloponnesian fleet at Miletus. Tissaphernes became increasingly frugal when it came to pay and food; while Alcibiades's recent recall of Samos, together with the apparent unbroken intimacy between him and the satrap, confirmed his belief that the latter was deliberately deceiving her and starving her in the interest of Athena. At the same time, heartfelt invitations arrived from Pharnabazus, who sought the cooperation of the Hellespont fleet, with generous promises of pay and subsistence. Klearchus, who had been sent from Sparta with the last squadron to aid Pharnabazus, claimed to be able to carry out orders from him; while Astyochus too, having given up the idea of joint action, thought it expedient to divide the fleet, which he did not know how to maintain. Accordingly, Clearchus was sent from Miletus to the Hellespont with forty triremes, but with instructions to flee the Athenians at Samos, first expanding westwards into the Aegean. In violent storms he had to take refuge on Delos with most of the lm squadron, and suffered so much damage that he returned to Miletus, whence he himself marched overland to the Hellespont. However, ten of his triremes under the command of Megarian Helixus weathered the storm and continued their journey towards the Hellespont, which was unprotected at this point, as Strombicicides appears to have brought his entire squadron back. Helixus moved without hindrance to Byzantium, the Doric city and colony of Megara, from which secret invitations had already reached him and which now incited Athens to revolt. This unfavorable news alerted the Athenian generals of Samos, whose vigilance escaped the deviation of Clearchus, of the need to guard the Hellespont, where they sent a detachment, and they tried in vain to reconquer Byzantium. Later, sixteen new triremes made their way from Miletus to the Hellespont and Abydos, allowing the Peloponnesians to patrol that strait, as well as the Bosphorus and Byzantium, and even devastate the Thracian Chersonese.
Meanwhile, at Miletus, the fleet's discontent erupted into open mutiny against Astyochus and Tsafernes. Without pay and only half eaten, the sailors gathered to discuss their grievances; Astyochus denounced having betrayed them to the satrap for his own benefit, who treacherously ruined the armament under the inspirations of Alcibiades. Even some of the officers whose silence had hitherto been bought began to speak the same language; perceiving that the calamity was becoming irreparable, and that the men were ready to desert. Above all, the incorruptible Hermocrates of Syracuse and Dorieus, commander of the Turia, enthusiastically defended the pretensions of their sailors, mostly free men (in greater proportion than the crews of the Peloponnesian ships), and wailing loudly. for Astiocus. and complained about their arrears. But the Peloponnesian general greeted them with haughtiness and even threats, raising his staff to strike the commander, Dorieus, as he pleaded his cause. The sailors' anger was so great that they rushed to launch rockets at Astyochus; however, he took refuge in a neighboring altar so as not to suffer any real harm.
Discontent was not limited to the sailors of the fleet either. Also the Milesians, dissatisfied and worried about the fort that Tissaphernes had built in their city, saw an opportunity to attack him by surprise and expelled his garrison. Although the armor in general, now full of dislike for the satrap, was sympathetic to this procedure, the Spartan commissioner Lichas sternly rebuked him, insinuating to the Milesians that they, as well as the other Greeks in the king's domain, should be submissive. . within all reasonable bounds and even woo him with the utmost subservience until the war is successfully ended. It appears that in other matters, too, Lichas imposed the satrap's authority over them instead of mitigating it; so that he was now fiercely hated by the Milesians, and when he died soon after from illness, they refused permission to bury him in the place, probably a place of honour, designated by his surviving countrymen. Although in these Lycas executions he only complied with the terms of his treaty with Persia, it is clear that instead of gaining autonomy in accordance with the general promises of Sparta, the thousands of people were now closer than ever, and imperial Athens had protected them much better. than Sparta against Persia.
However, the subservience of arms was almost at an end when Mindarus arrived as Admiral of Sparta to relieve Astiochus, who had been recalled home, and bid farewell. Both Hermocrates and some Milesian deputies took the opportunity to go to Sparta to present complaints against Tsafernes; while the latter, in turn, sent thither an envoy named Gaulites, an educated Carian with equal familiarity with the Greek and Carian languages, to defend himself against the repeated accusations of Hermocrates that he had treacherously withheld the payment of the covenant with Alcibiades and denounced the Athenians and Milesians on their own side, for unjustly destroying their fortress. At the same time, he felt the need to find a new pretext to strengthen his envoy's negotiations in Sparta, appease the impatience of the tanks and reconcile the new admiral Mindarus. He announced that the Phoenician fleet was about to arrive at Aspendus in Pamphylia and that he would go there to take them to the theater of war to work with the Peloponnesians. He invited Lichas to accompany him and promised to leave Tamos as procurator in Miletus during his absence, with orders to pay and maintain the fleet.
Mindarus, a new commander, unfamiliar with Tissaphernes' deceit, was impressed by this plausible assurance and intrigued even by the imminent prospect of such powerful reinforcements. He sent an officer named Philip with two triremes around Cape Triopiari to Aspendus, while the satrap went there by land.
Here too there was a further delay of not inconsiderable duration, while Tsafernes was absent from Aspendus for this ostensible purpose. It took some time before Mindarus was not fooled, as Philip encountered the Phoenician fleet at Aspendus and initially expected them to actually advance. But the satrap soon showed that his intention was still nothing more than to delay and deceive. The Phoenician ships were one hundred and forty-seven; a fleet more than enough to end naval warfare if trained to act with enthusiasm. But Tissaphernes seemed to think it a small force unworthy of the Great King's majesty; that he had commanded a fleet of three hundred sails to be readied for duty.
Immediately the Athenian Alcibiades arrived with thirteen Athenian triremes and maintained the best relations with the satrap. He also used this approaching Phoenician fleet to deceive his countrymen on Samos by promising to meet Tissaphernes at Aspendus and order him, if possible, to send the fleet to help Athens, but at least not to help Athens. Sparta. to send. The promise's last alternative was quite safe, as he knew full well that Tissaphernes had no intention of putting the fleet to really efficient use. But this allowed him to gain the recognition of his countrymen for being the means of diverting these massive reinforcements from the enemy.
In part the apparent confidence between Tissaphernes and Alcibiades, in part the insolent alternations of the former, based on the incredible claim that the fleet was insufficient in numbers, finally convinced Philip that the gift was nothing more than a further manifestation of trickery. After a long, angry pause, he informed Mindarus, not without indignant taunts from the satrap, that there was nothing to expect from the fleet on Aspendus. But the action of Tissaphernes in bringing the Phoenicians to this place and still withholding the orders of advance and action was mysterious and inexplicable in the eyes of all. Some believed he did this to receive larger bribes from the Phoenicians themselves as a reward for being sent home without a fight, which he seems to have done. But Thucydides supposes that he had no other motive than that which had determined his conduct during the previous year, to prolong the war, and to impoverish Athens and Sparta, by preparing a new deception which was to last some weeks, and was caused by much delay. The historian is no doubt right: but without his warrant it would have been hard to believe that the maintenance of a fraudulent pretense for so insignificant a period could be considered a proper reason for bringing that great fleet of Phoenicians to Aspendus, and afterwards driving it . far. work send away.
Having finally given up all hope for Phoenician ships, Mindarus decided to break all agreements with the perfidious Tissaphernes; the more so as Thamos, the deputy of the latter, though he was supposed to pay and maintain the fleet, discharged this duty more irregularly than ever before, and led his fleet to the Hellespont in co-operation with Pharnabazus, who still kept his promises and invitations. The Peloponnesian fleet - seventy-three triremes strong, after deducting thirteen sent under Dorieus to quell some disturbances in Rhodes - was carefully prepared beforehand and set in motion by sudden order, so that no warning would reach the Athenians on Samos. After being delayed by bad weather in Icarus for a few days, Mindarus reached Chios safely. But here he was pursued by Thrasyllus, passing north of Chios with fifty-five triremes, thus finding himself between the Lacedaemonian admiral and the Hellespont. Believing that Mindarus would remain on Chios for some time, Thrasyllus placed scouts in the highlands of Lesbos and on the continent opposite Chios, to immediately observe any movement of the enemy fleet. Meanwhile, he used his Athenian forces to suppress the Lesbian city of Eresus, recently raised in rebellion by a party of three hundred Kyme invaders under the Theban Anaxander, partly Methymnaean exiles, with some political sympathizers, partly foreign mercenaries. Eresus after failing an attack on Methymna. Thrasyllus found before Eresus a small Athenian squadron of five triremes under Thrasybulus, who had been sent from Samos to try to stop the revolt but had arrived too late. He was also accompanied by two triremes from the Hellespont and another from Methymna, so that his whole fleet reached the number of sixty-seven triremes, with which he proceeded to besiege Eresus; Rely on your scouts for timely warning should the enemy fleet move north.
The course Thrasyllos expected from the Peloponnesian fleet was to sail north from Chios through the strait separating the northeastern part of the island from Mount Mimas on the Asian mainland, and then likely pass Eresus on the west side of Chios. Lesbos is the shortest route to the Hellespont, although you can also get around the east side between Lesbos and the mainland on a slightly longer route. Athenian scouts were sent to detect the Peloponnesian fleet passing through this strait or approaching the island of Lesbos. But neither did Mindarus; Thus, they escaped their guard and reached the Hellespont without the knowledge of the Athenians. After spending two days supplying his ships and also receiving from the Chians three tesserakost, a Chian coin of unknown value, for every man among his sailors, he left Chios on the third day, but taking a southerly route and circumnavigating the island in a hurry on your west or coast side. Having reached and passed the northern latitude of Chios, he headed eastwards, with Lesbos some distance to his left, directly on the mainland; which he played in a port called Karterii in the Phocaean region. Here he stopped to give the crew their morning meal: then he crossed the arc of the Gulf of Kyme to the small islands called Arginusae near the Asiatic mainland off Mytilene, where he stopped again for dinner. During the greater part of the night he continued his journey, and reached Harmatus on the mainland, just north of and opposite Methymna, at dinner the next morning: then, after a short halt, still in a hurry, rounded Cape Lektum, and sailed across the Troad. . and he passed through Tenedos and arrived at the mouth of the Hellespont before midnight; where their ships were distributed in Sigeium, Rhoeteium, and other neighboring places.
With this well-charted course and accelerated voyage, the Peloponnesian fleet completely escaped the spectators at Thrasilus and reached the mouth of the Hellespont when the admiral was barely notified of its departure from Chios. When he reached Harmatus, however, it was the opposite, until, almost within sight of the Athenian station at Methymna, his progress could no longer remain secret. As he advanced along the Troad, the important news spread far and wide, and was heralded by numerous fire-signals and beacons on the hill, friend and foe alike.
These signs were perfectly visible and understandable to the two enemy squadrons now standing guard on both sides of the Hellespont: eighteen Athenian triremes at Sestos in Europe, sixteen Peloponnesian triremes at Abydos in Asia. For the former, it was devastating to find themselves trapped by this powerful enemy in the strait of the Hellespont. They left Sestos in the middle of the night, passing Abydos on the opposite side and keeping a southerly course near the coast of the Chersonesos towards Ekaios on the southern tip of that peninsula, in order to have a chance to enter the open sea and join up with Thrasyl. . But they should not even have passed the enemy station at Abydos if the Peloponnesian guard ships had not received the strictest orders from Mindarus, relayed before he left Chios, or perhaps even before Miletus, that if he attempted the launch, they should be alert and particularly attentive to his arrival, reserving the right to render him any assistance should Thrasyllus attack him. When the signals first announced the arrival of Mindarus, the Peloponnesian guard ships at Abydos did not know what position he was in, nor whether the main Athenian fleet might not be close by. Accordingly, acting in accordance with these earlier orders, they remained in reserve at their post at Abydos until morning came and they were better informed. They therefore neglected the Hellespontine Athenian squadron in their flight from Sestos to Elaeus.
Arriving in daylight near the southern pressure of the Chersonese, these Athenians were discovered by Mindarus's fleet, which had arrived at the opposite stations of Sigeium and Rhoeteium the night before. The latter immediately pursued them: But the Athenians, now in the Far Sea, most of them managed to escape to Imbros, not without the loss of four triremes, one of which was even captured with its entire crew.On board, near the temple of Protesilaus at Ekeus: the crews of the other three escaped ashore. Mindarus was now linked with Abydos's squadron, and their combined force, eighty-six triremes strong, deployed for a day in an attempt to attack Elaeus. When this venture failed, the fleet withdrew to Abydos. Before everyone could get there, Thrasyllus rushed from Eresus with his fleet, very disappointed that his scouts had escaped and all his calculations had been thwarted. Two Peloponnesian triremes, who had been more adventurous than the others in pursuing the Athenians, fell into his hands. He waited at Elaeus for the return of the Athenian squadron fleeing from Imbros and then began preparing his triremes, seventy-six in all, for general action.
After five days of such preparation, his fleet was called into battle and he sailed north towards Sestos via the Hellespont, with individual ships leading the way, either along the Chersonese coast or on the European side. The left or most advanced squadron under Thrasyllus extended even beyond the promontory of Cynossema, or Tomb of the Dog, ennobled by the legend and chapel of the Trojan queen Hecuba; it was therefore almost opposite Abydos, while the right squadron under Thrasybulus was not far from the southern mouth of the strait, almost opposite Dardanus. From him Mindarus had eighty-six triremes, ten more in all than Thrasylus, stretching from Abydos to Dardanus on the Asiatic coast; The Syracusans under Hermocrates engaged Thrasyllus on the right, while Mindarus with the Peloponnesian ships engaged Thrasybulus on the left. The Epibates, or sea hoplites, on board Mindarus' ships are said to have been superior to the Athenians, but the latter had the advantage in skilful pilots and nautical manoeuvres: still, the description of the battle tells us how much the battle had subsided. . ... Athenian maneuvers ever since. the glory of Phormio Beginning of the Peloponnesian War; Not even this brilliant sailor would have chosen the narrow waters of the Hellespont as the scene of a naval battle. Mindarus was aggressive, attacking close to the European coast and trying to outflank opponents on both sides and drive them inland. Thrasyllus on one wing and Thrasybulus on the other stretched out with swift movements to thwart this attempt to flank them; but in so doing they exposed and weakened the centre, which was deprived even of the view from the left wing by the jutting promontory of Kynossema. Without support, the center was vigorously attacked and manhandled by the middle division of Mindarus. Their ships were driven ashore and the attackers even went ashore to assert their victory against the men ashore. But this partial success threw the central Peloponnesian division itself into disarray, while Thrasybulus and Thrasyllus fought an initially even and soon victorious battle against ships on both sides of the enemy. Having repulsed these two divisions, they easily drove the disordered ships from the center, so that the entire Peloponnesian fleet fled and found refuge first at the Meidius River, then at Abydos. The narrowness of the Hellespont did not prohibit long pursuits or numerous captures. However, eight Chian ships, five Corinthian ships, two Ambracian ships, and as many Beotan ships from Sparta, Syracuse, Pellene, and Leucas, one each fell into the hands of the Athenian admirals; which, however, lost fifteen ships on its side. They erected a trophy on the promontory of Kynossema, near the tomb or chapel of Hecuba; not neglecting the customary duties of burying their own dead and abandoning those of the enemy under the customary call for truce.
Such an incomplete and indecisive victory would have been little appreciated by the Athenians in the run-up to the Sicilian expedition. But since that overwhelming catastrophe, followed by so many other misfortunes, and finally the defeat of Thymocharis in the Euboean revolt, their spirits have sunk so sadly that news of the battle of Cynossema was brought by the trireme, apparently at the end of August. .from 411 B.C. B.C., was received with the greatest joy and triumph. They began to feel that the tide had ebbed and began to turn in their favor, raising hopes for eventual success in the war. Another stroke of luck soon happened to strengthen this belief. Mindarus was forced to reinforce himself at the Hellespont, sending Hippocrates and Epicles to bring up the fleet of fifty triremes that now operated from Euboea. That in itself was a great relief to Athens as it brought a troublesome enemy closer to home. But it was still aggravated by the subsequent misfortunes of that fleet, which, in rounding the headland of Mount Athos to reach Asia, was caught in a terrible storm, and nearly wrecked, with great loss of life among the crew; so that only a remnant survived under Hippocrates to join Mindarus.
But although Athens was thus freed from any fear of a Euboean attack, the consequences of this withdrawal of the fleet showed how hopelessly the island itself had lost its supremacy. The inhabitants of Chalcis and the other cities, who were now opposed to them without any foreign relaxation, strove, together with the Boeotians, whose interest in the case was even stronger than theirs, to despoil Euboea of its insular character. or bridge over the Euripus, the narrowest part of the Euripus, he built the Straits of Euboea where Chalcis broke away from Boeotia. A jetty was driven from each bank, each jetty guarded by a tower at the end, leaving only a central opening wide enough for a single ship to pass through, covered by a wooden bridge. In vain did the Athenian Theramenes come up with thirty triremes to stop the progress of this enterprise. Both the Euboeans and Boeotians followed it in such numbers and with such zeal that it was soon completed. Euboea, ultimately the most important Athenian island, is now a completely independent part of the mainland of Athens, although it must be lucky enough to restore its naval power.
The Battle of Kynossema did not have very important consequences other than encouragement for the Athenians. Cyzicus rebelled against them shortly after the action, and on the fourth day after the Athenian fleet, quickly reformed at Sestos, sailed to that spot to recapture it. It wasn't paved, so they managed with little difficulty and put a pole in it. Furthermore, on the journey thither they gained an additional advantage by capturing, on the south coast of Propontis, the eight Peloponnesian triremes that had done so just before the Byzantine rebellion. But, on the other hand, as soon as the Athenian fleet had left Sestos, Mindarus sailed from his post at Abydos to Ekeus, and there went in search of all the triremes captured by him at Kynossema, which the Athenians had deposited there, except as some of them were so damaged that the inhabitants of Elaeus set them ablaze.
But what now began to form a far more important element of the war was the difference in character between Tissaphernes and Pharnabazus, and the transfer of the Peloponnesian fleet from the satrapy of the former to that of the latter. Although Tissaphernes did not give the Peloponnesians any aid or payment, with his treacherous promises and bribes he nullified all the previous year's negotiations, deliberately wasting the two belligerents. Pharnabazus was a brave and serious man who fought vigorously to strengthen them, both with men and money, and worked hard to break Athenian power; because eighteen years later we will see him working with the same zeal to achieve its partial renewal. As of this moment, the Persian aid in the Greek war materializes; and in general, first at the hands of Pharnabazus, then at those of young Ciro, the determining reality. For we shall find that, while the Peloponnesians are largely well paid out of the Persian treasury, the Athenians, without such funds, are forced to depend on contributions which they can raise here and there without rightly determining or accepting; and interrupt even the most promising successful career for this purpose. Twenty-six years later, when Sparta had lost its Persian allies, the Lacedaemonian Teleutians tried to quell the mutiny of their unpaid sailors by telling them how far nobler it was to blackmail the enemy with their own swords than to get them for themselves. overseas transport; and probably Athenian generals during those early years of combat tried similar appeals to their soldiers' generosity. But it is no less true that the new permanent surcharge now introduced has given the Spartan cause a terrible opportunity.
The good pay and cordial cooperation now enjoyed by Pharnabazus' Peloponnesians only made them more infuriated by Tsafernes' earlier deception. Under the influence of this mood, they willingly helped the inhabitants of Antandrus to drive out their general Arsaces with the Persian garrison. Arsaces, under the influence of an inexplicable spade, has recently committed an act of murderous treachery against the Delians residing in Adramyttium: he has summoned its leading citizens to an expedition as allies and has them all surrounded, shooting and butchering them to the ground. . breakfast. Such an act was more than enough to arouse hatred and alarm among the residents of Antandria, who invited a group of Peloponnesian hoplites from Abydos to cross the Ida ridge, with the help of which Antandrus was freed from the Persians.
At Miletus, as at Cnidos, Tissaphernes had already suffered a similar humiliation; Lichas was no longer alive to corroborate his claims, nor do we know whether he would have gotten any results from his envoy Gaulita's complaints in Sparta. Under the circumstances, he began to fear that he had brought upon himself a weight of enmity which might be seriously rancorous, and he did not cease to feel jealous of Pharnabazus's popularity and eventual success. The madness for the Phoenician fleet, now that Mindarus had openly broken with it and left Miletus, was in vain. Thus he dismissed the Phoenician fleet to their own homes, pretending to have received news that the Phoenician cities were in danger from sad raids from Arabia and Egypt; while he himself left Aspendus to revisit Ionia, as well as to advance to the Hellespont to resume personal relations with the disaffected Peloponnesian Time to protest his recent dealings at Antandrus; or at least to obtain some security against the repetition of such hostilities. However, his visit to Ionia seems to have taken some time, and he tried to appease the Ionian Greeks by making a sumptuous sacrifice to Artemis at Ephesus. Leaving Aspendus, as far as we know, in early August.(411 BC) reached the Hellespont only in November.
Once the Phoenician fleet disappeared, Alcibiades returned to Samos with his thirteen Phaselis triremes. He was also, like Tissaphernes, subservient to his own delusion: he credited his countrymen with having secured, more than ever, the satrap's goodwill in the cause of Athens, and persuaded him to abandon his attempt to bring in the Phoenician fleet. . At this time Dorieus was in Rhodes with thirteen triremes, sent by Mindarus before his departure from Miletus, to quell the growth of a Phil-Athenian party on the island. Perhaps the presence of this force threatened the Athenians' interest in Kos and Halicarnassus; for we now find Alcibiades going from Samos to these places, with nine new triremes in addition to his thirteen. He erected fortifications in the town of Kos, and established an Athenian officer and garrison there: from Halicarnassus he collected large contributions; On what pretext, or whether due to lack of funds, we do not know. In mid-September he returned to Samos.
In the Hellespont, after the battle of Cynossema, Mindarus was reinforced by the Euboean squadron, at least for that part which escaped the storm on Mount Athos. The withdrawal of the Peloponnesian fleet from Euboea also allowed the Athenians to send a few more ships to their fleet at Sestos. Thus placed on opposite sides of the strait, the two fleets came to a second battle in which the Peloponnesians under Agesandrids had the upper hand; but with little fruit Apparently it was about October that Dorieus arrived from Rhodes with his fourteen triremes to meet Mindarus again in the Hellespont. He probably expected to reach the Straits of Abydos by night, but a little way from the entrance, near Rhoeteium, he was surprised by the light of day; and the Athenian scouts immediately gave a signal that he was approaching. Twenty Athenian triremes were sent to attack him, whereupon Dorieus fled and sought safety, steering his ship ashore in the recessed bay near Dardanus. The Athenian squadron here engaged him, but were repulsed and forced to sail back to Madytus. Mindarus was a spectator of this scene even from afar; on the revered hill of Ilium, busy sacrificing to Athena. He immediately rushed to Abydos, where he equipped his entire fleet of eighty-four triremes, while Pharnabazus worked ashore with his ground forces. After rescuing Dorieus' ships, his next concern was to resist the entire Athenian fleet, which soon attacked him under Thrasybulus and Thrasyllus. A stubborn naval battle between the two fleets took place, which lasted most of the day with doubtful outcome; Finally, towards afternoon, twenty new triremes were seen approaching. It turned out to be Alcibiades' squadron, coming from Samos: having probably heard of Dorieus's squadron engaging the main Peloponnesian fleet, he came with his own counterweight reinforcements. As soon as their crimson flag or signal was verified, the Athenian fleet was animated with redoubled spirit. The new arrivals helped them drive the action so hard that the Peloponnesian fleet was forced to return to Abydos and land there. Here the Athenians continued their success and tried to tow them away. But the Persian land force protected them, and Pharnabazus himself was seen first in the battle; even pushing himself into the water as far as his horse could stand. Thus, the main Peloponnesian fleet was preserved; However, the Athenians withdrew with an important victory, taking thirty triremes as booty and recapturing those they themselves had lost in the previous two actions.
Keeping his defeated fleet out of work at Abydos for the winter, Mindarus sent reinforcements to the Peloponnese and its allies. Meanwhile, he joined Pharnabazus in ground operations against various Athenian allies on the mainland. The Athenian admirals, for their part, instead of keeping their fleet together to seek victory, were forced to disperse much of it into flying squadrons to raise money, keeping only forty sails at Sestos; while Thrasyllus went to Athens himself to announce victory and ask for reinforcements. In accordance with this order, thirty triremes were sent under Theramenes; who first tried unsuccessfully to prevent the building of the bridge between Euboea and Boeotia, and then made a journey between the islands to raise money. He acquired considerable booty by invading enemy territory, and he also extorted money from various factions contemplating or intending to rebel in the Athenian dependencies. In Paros, where the oligarchy established by Peisander in the Conspiracy of the Four Hundred still existed, Theramenes deposed and fined the men who exercised it, thus establishing a democracy in his space. Thence he went into Macedonia to aid, and probably temporarily pay off, Archelaus, king of Macedon, whom he aided for a time in the siege of Pydna; Blockading the city by sea while the Macedonians besieged it by land. After the blockade lasted all winter, Theramenes was recalled before his conquest to join the main Athenian fleet in Thrace: Archelaus, however, took Pydna soon afterwards, and transported the city and its inhabitants to a distance of more than two miles from coast. inside. We looked in all these proceedings for evidence of that terrible shortage of money which now led the Athenians to injustices, blackmail, and interference with their allies such as they had never committed in the early years of the war.
In this period we find mention of a new evacuation at Corcyra, though less polluted by savage monstrosities than those of the seventh year. It seems that the oligarchical party on the island, which by this time had been almost destroyed, gained strength, and was encouraged by the misfortunes of Athens to conspire to deliver the island into the hands of the Lacedaemonians. The democratic leaders, informed of this conspiracy, sent Naupaktus to look for the Athenian admiral Konon. He arrived with a detachment of six hundred Messenians, with whose help they arrested the oligarchic conspirators in the square, killing some and banishing more than a thousand. The extent of his concern is attested by the fact that they freed slaves and gave citizenship to foreigners. The exiles who had retreated to the opposite continent soon returned and were admitted through the collusion of a part of the market. Serious fighting took place within the walls, finally resolved by the compromise and restoration of the Exiles. We know nothing of the details of this engagement, but it appears to have been skilfully worked out and scrupulously observed; for we know nothing of Corcyra until about thirty-five years after that period, and then the island appears to us as in the highest perfection of cultivation and prosperity. Undoubtedly, the emancipation of slaves and the admission of so many new foreigners to citizenship contributed to this result.
Meanwhile, Tissaphernes, having completed his operations in Ionia, reached the Hellespont shortly after the Battle of Abydos, apparently around November 411 BC. He was anxious to regain some respect among the Peloponnesians, and soon an opportunity presented itself. Alcibiades, then in command of the Athenian fleet at Sestos, came to visit with all the pride of victory and brought him the usual gifts; but the satrap seized his person and sent him to Sardis as a prisoner in custody, assuring him that he had express orders from the Great King to make war on the Athenians. This put an end to all Alcibiades' illusions about the supposed influence of the Persian councils. But these mistakes had already served their purpose in getting him a new position in the Athenian camp, which he was able to assert and justify with his own military energy.
By the middle of that winter the superiority of Mindarus's fleet at Abydos over the Athenian fleet at Sestos had become so great, partly, it seems, because of reinforcements received from the former, partly because the latter had dispersed into squadrons. . payment, -- that the Athenians dared no longer assert their position on the Hellespont. They sailed around the southern tip of the Chersonese and landed at Kardia, on the western side of the isthmus of that peninsula. Here, in early spring, Alcibiades joined them; who, together with Mantitheus, another Athenian captive, had found a way to escape from Sardis, first to Klazomenae and then to Lesbos, where he assembled a small squadron of five triremes. The scattered squadrons of the Athenian fleet now assembled to mass, Theramenes from Macedon reached Cardia and Thrasybulus from Thasos; so the Athenian fleet outnumbered that of Mindarus. News arrived that he had moved from the Hellespont to Cyzicus with his fleet and was now taking part in the siege of that place along with Pharnabazus and the Persian land forces.
In fact, his ferocious attacks had already taken place when the Athenian admirals decided to attack him there, and surprisingly they managed to do so. Having first arrived from Kardia at Elaeus in southern Chersonesos, they sailed across the Hellespont to Proconesus by night, so that their passage escaped the notice of the Peloponnesian guard ships at Abydos.
Resting on Prokonnesos one night, confiscating all the ships on the island to keep their movements secret, Alcibiades warned the assembled sailors that they must prepare for a battle at sea, a battle on land, and a battle on the walls. All at once. "We have no money (said he), while our enemies have plenty of the Great King." There was no lack of zeal among the men and no lack of resourcefulness among the commanders. A group of hoplites landed on the mainland in Cyzicus territory to make a detour; After that, the fleet was divided into three divisions under the command of Alcibiades, Theramenes and Thrasybulus. The former, advancing close to Cyzicus with his only division, challenged the Mindarus fleet and managed to lure it out with a feigned flight some distance from the harbour; while the other Athenian divisions, supported by overcast and rainy weather, unexpectedly appeared, interrupting his retreat and forcing him to land his ships on the neighboring continent. After a brave and hard fight, part on ships, part on land, despite their numerical superiority, once unpromising for the Athenians, but little understandable in detail and conceived differently by our two authorities, both the Peloponnesian fleet by sea, as well as the forces of Pharnabazus on land were utterly defeated. Mindarus himself was killed and the entire fleet, every trireme, was taken prisoner, except for the Syracuse triremes, which were burned by their own crew; while Cyzicus himself surrendered to the Athenians, and made a great contribution to saving himself from all further harm. The loot of the victors was plentiful and valuable. The numbers of triremes thus captured or destroyed are given differently; the lowest estimate is sixty, the highest eighty.
This large-scale action, skilfully planned and courageously carried out by Alcibiades and his two colleagues around April 410 BC. significantly altered the relative position of the belligerents. The Peloponnesians now had no major fleet in Asia, although they probably still maintained a small squadron at Miletus Station; while the Athenian fleet was more powerful and threatening than ever. The dismay of the defeated army is vividly described in the laconic dispatch sent to the ephors of Sparta by Hippocrates, secretary to the late Admiral Mindarus: "All honor and advantage is gone: Mindarus is dead: men are starving: we are in peril." . what to do." The ephors no doubt heard the same lamentable story from more than one witness; for this particular despatch never reached her, having been intercepted and taken to Athens., with Endius at her head, came to Athens to propose peace; or rather, perhaps Endius - an old friend and guest of Alcibiades, who had formerly been in Athens as an ambassador - was now permitted to return there to sound out the mood of the city in an informal way which might easily be repudiated, if nothing else were. Because it is surprising that Xenophon does not mention this message and its silence, although it is not enough to justify us questioning the reality of the event, which is affirmed by Diodorus, perhaps with the authority of Theopompus, and in a way some improbable—it still makes me doubt whether the Ephors themselves admitted to making or sanctioning the suggestion. It must be remembered that Sparta, not to speak of its obligation to its allies generally, was in that time bound by a special agreement with Persia not to make a separate peace with Athens.
According to Diodorus, after Endius was authorized to speak in the Athenian assembly, he asked the Athenians to make peace with Sparta on these terms: that each party should remain as it was; that the garrisons on both sides be removed; to exchange prisoners, a Lacedaemonian for an Athenian. Endius insisted in his speech on the mutual harm each was doing by prolonging the war, but maintained that Athens had suffered far more than both and had the greater interest in hastening peace. She had no money while Sparta had the Great King as commissioner: the Dekeleian garrison deprived her of Attica's products, while the Peloponnese was undisturbed: all her power and influence depended on the naval superiority she and Sparta had renounced. pre-eminence.
If Diodorus is to be believed, all the smartest citizens of Athens recommended accepting this proposal. Only demagogues, rioters accustomed to fanning the flames of war for profit, opposed him. In particular, the now influential demagogue Kleophon magnified the glow of the recent victory and the new opportunities for success that now opened up to such an extent that the assembly finally rejected Endius' proposal.
Those who wrote after the battle of Aegospotamos and the conquest of Athens found it easy to be wise in hindsight and repeat the usual denunciations against a mad people led astray by a corrupt demagogue. But if, ignoring our knowledge of the definitive end of the war, we look at the content of this proposal, even supposing it to be formal and authorized, and at the time it was made, we will hesitate before explaining Kleophon mute, and much more, less corrupt, for recommending its rejection. As for the accusation of a corrupt interest in the continuation of the war, I have already made some comments about Kleon with the aim of showing that such an interest cannot be attributed to such demagogues. They were essentially non-warrior men and personally were just as likely to lose as to win in a state of war. This is particularly true of Kleophon in the later years of the war, as Athens' financial situation was so dire that all available funds to maintain ships and men were used up, leaving little or no surplus for political speculators. Admirals, who paid seafarers by collecting taxes abroad, could enrich themselves if they so chose; but politicians at home had far less prospect of such gains than they would have in peacetime. Even if Kleophon had so much to gain by continuing the war, assuming that Athens was finally destroyed in the war, he was sure that he would be deprived not only of all his gains and position, but also of his life.
So much for the charge of corrupt interest against him. The question of whether his advice was reasonable is not so easy to refute. Considering the timing of the proposal, we must remember that the Peloponnesian fleet in Asia had just been annihilated, and that the short epistle itself, from Hippocrates to the Ephors, was equally emphatic in revealing the situation of his troops at that earlier time. the Assembly of Athens. On the other hand, the dispatches of the Athenian generals announcing their victory, aroused in Athens a general feeling of triumph, which manifested itself in public thanksgiving; Nor can we doubt that Alcibiades and his colleagues promised a great string of successes, perhaps restoring most of the lost naval empire. In this state of mind of the Athenian people and their generals, largely justified by reality, what is the phrase that comes from Endius? In fact, what you are proposing is not a concession. Both parties remain in their current positions; remove trimmings; to restore the prisoners. There was only one way that Athens could have been the winner if it had accepted these proposals. It would have withdrawn its garrison from Pylos, it would have been replaced by the garrison from Dekeleia; such an exchange would have been of considerable benefit to her. To this we must add the relief that the simple end of the war supposes, undoubtedly real and important.
The question now is whether a statesman like Pericles, immediately after Cyzicus's great victory and the two previous minor victories, would have advised his countrymen to be content with such a concession? I'm inclined to think he wouldn't have. He would have preferred to appear before him in light of a diplomatic maneuver designed to stall Athens in the interim, while her enemies were defenseless, and buy time for the construction of a new fleet. Sparta could not please either Persia or her Peloponnesian allies; Indeed, previous experience had shown him that he could not successfully do this. Therefore, Athens would not really have been relieved of the entire burden of war by accepting the proposals; but they would only have deadened the zeal and tied the hands of their own troops at the moment when they felt themselves at the height of success. Certainly in arms, and in the case of the generals Alcibiades, Theramenes and Thrasybulos, agreeing to such terms at such a time would have been considered a disgrace. It would have deterred them from conquests which were fervently rather than unreasonably anticipated at the time; Conquests designed to restore Athens to the Eminence that had just deposed her. And he would have inflicted that humiliation, not only without compensating for anyone's greed in any other way, but with a high probability, imposing on all of its citizens the need to redouble efforts in a future that is not very easy, when the time comes should be propitious because their enemies They arrived.
So if we start with the vague accusation that it was the demagogue Cleophon who stood between Athens and the peace treaty, and look at what specific peace terms he made his countrymen reject, we find that he had very strong reasons for not saying they were fundamental. . reasons for his advice. It is doubtful that he used this suggestion, inadmissible in itself, to try to bring about the conclusion of peace on more convenient and lasting terms. It is likely that such efforts would not have been successful even if they had been made; but a statesman like Pericles would have tried, convinced that Athens was waging the war at a disadvantage that would eventually sink it. A mere opposition speaker, like Kleophon, even though he probably correctly assessed the actual proposition before him, was not looking to the future.
Meanwhile, the Athenian fleet reigned alone in the Propontida and its two adjacent straits, the Bosphorus and the Hellespont; although Farnabazus's zeal and generosity not only provided food and clothing for the bereaved sailors of the vanquished fleet, but also encouraged the building of new ships in the prisoners' quarters. While arming sailors, giving them two months' pay and stationing them as sentries along the satrapy coast, he also provided an unlimited supply of wood to ships from the lush forests of Mount Ida and helped officers plant new triremes in stockpiles. . in Antandro; near it, at a place called Aspaneus, Idaean timber was chiefly exported.
Having made these arrangements, he rendered assistance at Chalcedon, which the Athenians had already begun to attack. His first operation after victory was to sail to Perinthus and Selymbria, which had already defected from Athens; the former, intimidated by recent events, admitted them and returned to Athens; he resisted such a requisition, but initially redeemed himself from the attack by paying a fine. Alcibiades then led them to Chalcedon, facing Byzantium on Asia's southern border with the Bosphorus. Mastery of these two straits, the Bosphorus and the Hellespont, was of paramount importance to Athens; firstly, because it allowed him to ensure the arrival of grain ships from the Euxino for his own consumption; afterwards, because it was in his power to collect a tithe or a tax on all passing merchant ships, not unlike the taxes which the Danes levied on the Sound to this day. For the opposite reasons, of course, the importance of the position to Athens' enemies was equally great. Until the spring of last year, Athens was the undisputed owner of both straits. But the rebellion of Abydos on the Hellespont (about April 411 BC) and that of Byzantium with Chalcedon on the Bosphorus (about June 411 BC) deprived it of this supremacy; and their supplies chained in later years; Only months could elapse in those intervals when their stationed fleets had the preponderance of supplying them with convoys. Consequently, it is very likely that their grain reserves came from the Euxinus in the autumn of 411 BC. they were comparatively restricted.
Although Chalcedon itself, supported by Pharnabazus, still resisted Athens, Alcibiades now took possession of Chrysopolis, his unfortified seaport, on the east coast of the Bosphorus, facing Byzantium. This place he fortified, established there a squadron with a permanent garrison, and made it a regular tithe port, to collect tolls from all ships sailing from the Euxine. The Athenians seem to have habitually imposed this tax on Byzantium, until the rebellion there, among their permanent sources of revenue; it has now been reintroduced under the patronage of Alcibiades. Insofar as the ships that brought their goods to Athens for sale and consumption were taxed, of course, Athenian citizens and meticians paid for this in the form of a price increase. Thirty triremes under Theramenes were left at Chrysopolis to impose this tax, transport friendly merchants, and harass the enemy.
The remainder of the fleet headed partly for the Hellespont, partly for Thrace, where the reduced naval power of the Lacedaemonians already favored the maintenance of the cities. Especially on Thasos, the citizens, led by Ekphantos, expelled the Lacedaemonian Harmost Eteonicus with his garrison and let Thrasybulus in with an Athenian force. It must be remembered that this was one of the cities where Peisander and the Four Hundred Conspirators (in early 411 BC) were freed from their democratic institutions. All the calculations of these oligarchs were frustrated, as Phrynichus had foreseen from the beginning: the Thasian, once their own oligarchic party had taken over the government, recalled their disaffected exiles, under whose auspices a garrison had been instituted. army. Eteonicus, now expelled, accused the Lacedaemonian admiral Pasippidas, having himself taken part in the expulsion, on bribes from Tissaphernes; a charge which seems unlikely, but the Lacedaemonians believed it, and consequently banished Pasippidas, sending Kratesippidas to replace him. The new admiral found a small fleet on Chios, the Pasippidas had already started. he had to rally with the allies to make up for recent losses.
The tone in Athens had become more hopeful and energetic since the recent naval victories. Though the Athenians could not prevent him from plundering Attica, Agis with his garrison at Dekeleia, on approaching the city walls one day, was vigorously and successfully repulsed by Thrasyllus. But what most embarrassed the Lacedaemonian king was watching from his lofty post at Dekeleia the great flow of grain ships from the Euxinus to the Peiraeus that arrived in the autumn of 410 BC. Chr. it was renewed again. since the occupation of the Bosphorus and the Hellespont by Alcibiades. For the safe reception of these ships, Thoricus soon grew strong. Agis exclaimed that it was useless to exclude the Athenians from the products of Attica while they received a large amount of imported grain. Accordingly, together with the Megarians, he provided a small squadron of fifteen triremes with which he sent Klearchus to Byzantium and Chalcedon. This Spartan was a public guest of the Byzantines and had already been appointed to command auxiliaries assigned to that city. He seems to have begun his journey the following winter (410-409) and reached Byzantium safely, albeit with the destruction of three of his squadrons at the hands of the nine Athenian triremes guarding the Hellespont.
The following spring, Thrasyllus was sent from Athens to act in Ionia at the head of a large new force. He commanded fifty triremes, a thousand of the regular hoplites, a hundred horsemen, and five thousand sailors, with the means of arming the latter as peltasts; in addition to the triremes he also transports for his troops. After storing his weapons on Samos for three days, he dismounted at Pygela and succeeded in making Colophon lord with his port of Notium. He then threatened Ephesus, but that place was defended by a powerful force who summoned Tissaphernes to "go and help the goddess Artemis" as per the proclamation; as well as twenty-five fresh Syracusan triremes and two newly arrived Selinusians. From these enemies, Thrasilus suffered a heavy defeat near Ephesus, losing three hundred men and being forced to sail to Notium; whence, after burying his dead, he proceeded north to the Hellespont. On his way thither, Thrasyllus, stopping for a time at Methymna on the north of Lesbos, saw the twenty-five triremes of Syracuse pass by on their journey from Ephesus to Abydos. He immediately attacked them, capturing four along with their entire crew, and pursued the rest to his post at Ephesus. Any prisoners taken were sent to Athens, where they were deposited in the Piraeus quarries for safekeeping, no doubt in retaliation for the treatment of Athenian prisoners in Syracuse; However, the following winter, they managed to find a way out and escape to Dekeleia. Among the captives was Alcibiades the Athenian, cousin and co-exile of the Athenian general of the same name, whom Thrasilus freed while the others were sent to Athens.
After the delay caused by this pursuit, he returned his weapons to the Hellespont and joined Alcibiades' force at Sestos. Their combined force was transferred to Lampsacus on the Asian side of the straits, apparently in early autumn; They fortified this place and established their headquarters for the autumn and winter, supporting themselves by ravenous excursions into the neighboring satrapy of Pharnabazus. It is curious, however, to know that when Alcibiades proceeded to summon them all - the hoplites, according to Athenian custom, classified according to their tribes - his own soldiers, who had never been defeated, refused to join forces with those of Athens to fraternize with Thrasyllus, who had recently been defeated at Ephesus. This distancing only ended after a joint campaign against Abydos; Pharnabazos, appearing with a considerable force, mainly cavalry, to relieve that place, was met and defeated in battle with all the Athenians present. The honor of the Thrasyllos hoplites was now considered restored, so the merging of the ranks was permitted without further difficulty. But even the whole army could not conquer Abydos; which the Peloponnesians and Pharnabasians still maintained as a station on the Hellespont
Athena, meanwhile, was so exhausted by the great armament recently shipped with Thrasyllus that her enemies were emboldened to active operations close to home. The Spartans sent an expedition, both by triremes and ground forces, to attack Pylos, which had been fortified since its first fortification by Demosthenes in BC. 425. The place was heavily attacked both by sea and by land, and was soon heavily besieged. Heedless of his distress, the Athenians sent thirty triremes to his rescue, commanded by Anytus, who, however, returned without ever reaching the spot, as storm or unfavorable winds prevented him from rounding Cape Malea. Pylos was forced to surrender shortly afterwards and the garrison left on terms of surrender. But Anytus, on his return, was met with great displeasure by his countrymen, and was put on trial for betraying or failing to fulfill the trust entrusted to him. He is said to have escaped conviction only by bribing the Dicastery and was the first Athenian to obtain a conviction for bribery. Whether he really could have reached Pylos, and whether the obstacles that puzzled him were such that an energetic officer could overcome them, we cannot guarantee; still less if it is true that he actually got away with bribery. However, history seems to show that the Athenian public at large thought he deserved the conviction and were so surprised by his acquittal that they did so assuming, true or false, using means never before attempted, he explained.
Around the same time, the Megarans also surprisingly recaptured their port of Nisaea, which had existed since BC. it had been in the hands of an Athenian garrison. 424. The Athenians tried to recover it, but failed; though they defeated the Megarians in a single action.
Thrasyllus, during the summer of B.C. 409 and even the combined force of Thrasyllus and Alcibiades in the autumn of the same year seems to have accomplished less than might have been expected from so large a force; Indeed, it must have been sometime during that year that the Lacedaemonian Klearchus pushed his fifteen ships from Megara up the Hellespont towards Byzantium and found it protected only by nine Athenian triremes. But the operations of 408 B.C. they were more important. The entire force commanded by Alcibiades and the other commanders gathered for the siege of Chalcedon and Byzantium. The Chalcedonians, hearing of the project, deposited their chattels for safety in the hands of their neighbors, the Thracians of Bithynia; an astonishing testament to the good feelings and trust between the two, which stands in stark contrast to the continuing animosity that existed on the Bosphorus between Byzantium and the adjacent Thracian tribes. But the precaution was frustrated by Alcibiades, who invaded the territory of Bithynia and forced them with threats to hand over the goods that had been entrusted to them. He then blocked off Chalcedony with a wooden wall stretching from the Bosphorus to the Propontis; although the continuity of this wall was broken by a river and apparently by a fall on the river's immediate edge. The barrier wall was already finished when Pharnabazus appeared with an army to help the place, and advanced to Heracleion, or the Temple of Heracles, which belonged to the Chalcedonians. Hippocrates, the most dangerous Lacedaemonian in the city, took advantage of his approach and made a vigorous sortie: but the Athenians repulsed all efforts by Pharnabazus to force a way through his lines and join him; so that, after a stubborn fight, the assault force was driven back within the city walls, and Hippocrates himself was slain.
The blockade of the city was now so secure that Alcibiades left with part of the army to raise money and then gather forces for the siege of Byzantium. During his absence, Theramenes and Thrasybulus agreed with Pharnabazus on the surrender of Chalcedon. It was agreed that the city should revert to being a tributary dependency of Athens, with the same rate of tribute as before the rebellion, and that arrears should be paid later. Furthermore, Pharnabazos himself undertook to pay the Athenians twenty talents on behalf of the city and also to escort some Athenian envoys to Susa so that they could propose accommodation to the Great King. Until these envoys returned, the Athenians promised to refrain from hostilities against Pharnabazo's satrapy. Oaths were exchanged to this end after Alcibiades returned from his expedition. Because Pharnabazus categorically refused to complete the ratification with the other generals until Alcibiades was also there to ratify in person; testimony to the great individual importance of the latter and his well-known ease in finding excuses to avoid an agreement. Accordingly, Pharnabazus sent two envoys to Chrysopolis to receive Alcibiades' oaths, while two relatives of Alcibiades came to Chalcedon as witnesses to those of Pharnabazus. In addition to the oath shared with his colleagues, Alcibiades made and received from the satrap a special bond of personal friendship and hospitality.
Alcibiades took advantage of his absence to conquer Selybria, from which he received a sum of money, and to assemble a large group of Thracians with whom he marched overland to Byzantium. This place was now under siege by the combined forces of the Athenians, immediately after the surrender of Chalcedon. A wall was built around it and several rocket and percussion engine attacks were carried out. However, the Lacedaemonian garrison under Harmost Klearchus, supported by some Megarians under Helixus and Beotia under Koeratadas, were perfectly capable of repelling them. But the ravages of hunger were not so easy to deal with. After the blockade lasted for some time, supplies began to run out; so that Clearchus, stern and stern even under ordinary circumstances, became implacable and oppressive, concerned only with the support of his soldiers; and even locked up food supplies while the townspeople around them starved. Seeing that his only hope lay in foreign help, he left the city to ask Pharnabazo for help. and, if possible, assemble a fleet for an aggressive operation that might divert the attention of the besiegers. He left the defense to Koeratadas and Helixus, fully convinced that the Byzantines were too committed to their revolt from Athens to dare abandon Sparta, whatever their affliction. But the favorable terms recently granted to Chalcedon, together with severe and increasing famine, prompted Kydon and a Byzantine party to open the gates at night and admit Alcibiades with the Athenians into the vast inner square called Thrace. Helixus and Koeratadas, only learning about this attack when the enemy had already taken possession of the city from all sides, tried in vain to resist and were forced to surrender at will: they were sent as prisoners to Athens, where Koeratadas during the war. he managed to escape the confusion by landing in Piraeus. Favorable terms were granted to the city, which was relieved of its position as a dependent ally of Athens and, probably like Chalcedon, had to pay its arrears of tribute.
So slow was the siege process in antiquity that the reduction of Chalcedon and Byzantium took almost a year; the last site surrendered at the onset of winter. However, both were major acquisitions for Athens, making her once again the undisputed owner of the Bosphorus and reassuring her two valued tributary allies. That wasn't the full improvement the summer brought to her position. The recently concluded agreement with Pharnabazus was also a valuable and even more promising step. It was evident that the satrap was tired of bearing the brunt of war on behalf of the Peloponnesians and was quite willing to help the Athenians come to terms with the Great King. The mere withdrawal of her enthusiastic support from Sparta, even if nothing else followed, was of immense importance to Athens; and so much has been accomplished. The envoys, five Athenians and two Argeans, all probably sent from Athens, which explains some delay, were ordered after the siege of Chalcedon to meet Pharnabazus at Cyzicus. some sent from Lacedaemon; and even the Hermocrates of Syracuse, who had been condemned and banished home, used the same escort, and all continued their journey to Susa. Their progress was stopped during the extreme severity of winter at Gordion in Phrygia; and as they advanced inland in the early spring, they met the young prince Cyrus, son of King Darius, who had come down in person to govern much of the Manor of Asia. Some Lacedaemonian envoys, Boeootius and others, traveled with him after completing his mission to the Persian court.
CHAPTER 64
FROM THE ARRIVAL OF CYRUS THE YOUNG IN ASIA MINOR TO THE BATTLE OF ARGINUSAE.
The appearance of Cyrus, commonly known as Cyrus the Younger, in Asia Minor was an important event that marked the beginning of the final phase of the Peloponnesian War.
The younger of the two sons of the Persian king Darius Noto and the cruel queen Parísatis, he was now sent by his father as satrap of Lydia, Phrygia the Great and Cappadocia, and general of that whole military department, the model place being Kastolus. His command at this time did not include the Greek cities on the coast, which were still ceded to Tsafernes and Pharnabazus. Even so, he brought with him a keen interest in Greek warfare and intense anti-Athenian sentiment, with full authority from his father to put him into action. Whatever this young man wanted, he wanted it badly; his physical activity, superior to those temptations to sensual indulgence which often weakened the great Persians, roused the admiration even of the Spartans: and his energetic character was matched with a measure of skill. Though he had not yet laid out that plan for the accession to the throne of Persia, which afterward filled his whole mind, and which, with the help of ten thousand Greeks, he came so close to achieving, yet he seems to have the feeling that the ambition from an early age to have the prospect of ascending the Persian throne as king, not satrap. He went down well aware that Athens was the effective enemy who had humbled the pride of the Persian kings, the Greek islands kept out of the sight of a Persian ship, and even the mainland Greeks on the coast virtually emancipated in the past sixty years. . Thus he brought with him an implacable desire to crush Athenian power, far different from the treacherous poise of Tissaphernes, and far more formidable even than the open enmity of Pharnabazus, who had less money, less favor at court, and less youthful enthusiasm. Furthermore, Pharnabazo, who had wholeheartedly supported the Peloponnesian cause for the last three years, was now tired of the allies he had kept paid for so long. Instead of driving Athenian influence from his shores with little difficulty, as he had hoped, he found his satrapy plundered, his revenues reduced or absorbed, and an all-powerful Athenian fleet on Propontis and Hellespont; while the fleet of the Lacedaemonians which he tried so hard to invite was destroyed. He was decidedly fed up with the Peloponnesian cause and even leaned towards Athens; and the envoys he escorted to Susa might perhaps have laid the groundwork for a change in Persian policy in Asia Minor, when Cyrus' journey to the coast upset all these calculations. The young prince brought with him a new, warm, youthful dislike of Athena, a power surpassed only by that of the Great King himself, and a spirited determination to use it unreservedly to secure victory for the Peloponnesians.
From the moment Pharnabazus and the Athenian envoys found Cyrus, their advance to Susa became impossible. Bootius and the other Lacedaemonian envoys, traveling with the young prince, extravagantly boasted that they had obtained all they asked for at Susa; and Cyrus himself proclaimed his unlimited powers over the whole coast, all to wage vigorous war together with the Lacedaemonians. Pharnabazos, when he heard this news and the Great King's seal with the words "I send Cyrus as lord of all those who are gathering at Kastolus", not only refused to let the Athenian envoys continue, but was even forced to go to the Obeying the orders of the young prince, who insisted on handing it over or at least keeping it closed for a while, so that the news would not reach Athens. The satrap defied the first of these demands, having given his word for her safety; but he obeyed the second, and detained them in Cappadocia for not less than three years, until Athens was prostrate and about to capitulate, when he obtained permission from Cyrus to send them back to the sea coast.
This arrival of Cyrus, which overcame the treachery of Tissaphernes and the weariness of Pharnabazos, and supplied Athens' enemies with a double stream of Persian gold at a time when the stream would have dried up, was a prominent element in this sum of causes. , who banded together to determine the outcome of the war. But as important as the event itself was, it was made even more so by the personality of the Lacedaemonian admiral Lysander, with whom the young prince first came into contact when he arrived in Sardis.
Lysander was around December 408 BC. or in January 407 B.C. left to replace Kratesippidas. After Brasidas and Gylippus, he was the last of that trio of important Spartans from whom all the capital wounds of Athens in the course of this long war came. Son of poor parents, it is even said that he belonged to the Mothake class, which only with the help of richer men managed to maintain their contribution to public disorder and their place of constant exercise and discipline. Not only was he an illustrious officer, up to the task of military command, but he also had a great talent for intrigue, for organizing a political party and for disciplining its movements. Though indifferent to the temptations of money or pleasure, and willingly resigned to the poverty into which he was born, he was utterly unscrupulous in pursuing ambitious goals, either for his country or for himself. His family, however poor they were, enjoyed a dignified position in Sparta, belonging to the gens of Heraleidae, which had no close ties with kings; Furthermore, his personal reputation as a Spartan was excellent, as he upheld the rules of Discipline which had been rigorous and exemplary. The habits of self-control thus acquired were very useful to him when his ambition made it necessary for him to seek the favor of the great. His recklessness towards falsehood and perjury is exemplified in several current sayings attributed to him; how that children should be caught through data; men, by oaths. A selfish ambition—to increase his country's power not just in tandem with his own, but in servitude to him—guided him from beginning to end of his career. In this chief quality he agreed with Alcibiades; in the relentless immorality of the media, he went even further. He seems to have been cruel; attribute that was not part of Alcibiades' usual character. On the other hand, the love of personal indulgence, luxury and pomp that counted so much in Alcibiades was completely unknown to Lysander. His base disposition was Spartan, tending to amalgamate appetite, pomp and expansion of spirit, all in the love of command and influence, not Athenian, tending to the development of many and varied impulses; Ambition is one, but only one among many.
Kratesippidas, Lysander's predecessor, seems to have enjoyed naval command longer than the normal annual period, having succeeded Pasippidas mid-year. But Sparta's naval power was then so weak, having not yet recovered from the devastating defeat at Cyzicus, that it achieved little or nothing. We only hear about him promoting a political revolution in Chios for his own benefit. Bribed by a group of Chian exiles, he took possession of the Acropolis, resettled them on the island, and helped them to depose and expel the ruling party, numbering six hundred. It is clear that this is not a question between democracy and oligarchy, but between two oligarchic parties, one of which managed to buy party representation from the Spartan admiral. The exiles he expelled took possession of Atarneus, a Chian stronghold on the mainland facing Lesbos. From here they made war as best they could against their rivals, who now control the island, and also against other parts of Ionia; not without success and gain, as will be shown by his condition about ten years later.
The practice of restoring the governments of Asiatic cities, begun by Cratesippidas, was extended and systematized by Lysander; However, not for private income, which he always despised, but for ambition. After leaving the Peloponnese with a squadron, he reinforced it at Rhodes, and then sailed to Kos, an Athenian island, so that he could only have touched there, and Miletus. He made his last stop at Ephesus, the nearest point to Sardis, where Cyrus was expected; and while awaiting their arrival he increased his fleet to the number of seventy triremes. As soon as Cyrus in April or May 407 a. When he reached Sardis in BC, Lysander, with some envoys from Lacedaemon, set out to woo him, and was received with every favour. Preferring bitter complaints against the duplicity of Tissaphernes, whom they accused of having thwarted the king's commands and sacrificed the interests of the empire under the temptations of Alcibiades, they implored Cyrus to adopt a new policy and execute the provisions of the treaty, furnishing as much as possible support, strong to crush the common enemy. Cyrus replied that these were the express orders he had received from his father, and that he was prepared to carry them out with all his might. He said that he brought with him five hundred talents to devote at once to the cause: if that were not enough, he would have recourse to the private funds given him by his father; and if more were needed, he would mint the throne of gold and silver on which he sat.
Lysander and the envoys returned warmest thanks for these great promises, which would not be empty words from the lips of a passionate young man like Cyrus. So confident were the hopes they drew from his character and the sentiments proclaimed, that they ventured to beg him to restore the sailors' wages to a full Attic drachma a head; This was the tariff promised by Tissaphernes through his envoys in Sparta when he invited the Lacedaemonians to cross the Aegean for the first time and when it was doubtful that they would sell, but in reality I only paid the first month and then reduced to half a drachma, in the practice. with pathetic irregularity. As a reason for granting this increase, Cyrus was sure that it would induce the Athenian sailors to desert, as the war would end sooner and, of course, the expense. But he denied compliance, saying the rate of payment was set both by the king's express orders and the terms of the treaty, so he could not deviate from it. Lysander had to accept this answer. The envoys were treated with distinction and feted at a feast; whereupon Cyrus drank to Lysander's health and asked him to explain what favor he could do to further satisfy him. "Add an additional per capita surcharge to each sailor's salary," Lysander replied. Cyrus immediately agreed, having made a personal commitment to framing the issue. But the answer surprised him as much as admiration; for he expected Lysander to ask a favor or gift for himself, and judged him not only by the analogy of most of the Persians, but also of Astyochus and the Peloponnesian armor officers at Miletus, whose corrupt submission to Tissaphernes had become probable. known to him. Lysander's conduct was in sharp and honorable contrast to such corruption, as well as the gross negligence of the Spartan Theramenes, who respected the plight of sailors.
The incident here described not only provided the sailors of the Peloponnesian fleet with a daily wage of four oboli instead of three a man, but also secured Lysander himself a certain degree of esteem and confidence from Cyrus, whom he knew to be responsible. Referring to Pericles and Nicias, he observes that an established reputation for personal incorruptibility, rare as that quality was among Greek leaders, was among the most valuable assets in the social capital of an ambitious man, even if he only looked him in the eye. terms of stay. of influence itself. If the evidence of such altruism was of great value in the eyes of the Athenian people, it was even more powerful in the mind of Cyrus. With his Persian and princely ideas of winning followers through generosity, a man who spurned gifts was a phenomenon that demanded a greater sense of admiration and respect. From then on, he not only trusted Lysander with implicit financial trust, but consulted him on the conduct of the war, even deigning to support his personal ambition to the detriment of that goal.
Returning from Sardis to Ephesus, after unprecedented success in his interview with Cyrus, Lysander was able to pay his fleet not only in full arrears, but also a month in advance at an increased rate of four oboli per man. ; and promise this high rate for the future. A spirit of supreme satisfaction and confidence pervaded the armament. But the ships were in an indifferent state, having risen hastily and sparingly since the last defeat at Cyzicus. Consequently, Lysander used his current wealth to command them better, buy more complete equipment, and invite select crews. He took another step full of important results. He called to Ephesus some of the leaders and active men from each of the Asiatic cities, and organized them into disciplined clubs or factions according to him. He urged these societies to the most vigorous pursuit of war against Athens, and promised that, as soon as the war was over, they would be invested and supported by Spartan influence in the government of their respective cities. His newly established influence over Cyrus, and the abundant supplies he now commanded, added double strength to an invitation that was all too tempting. And so, while he instilled an ever-increasing zeal in the combined martial efforts of these cities, he also achieved for himself an ever-present correspondence that no successor could handle, making the continuation of his own command almost essential to success. The fruits of their party maneuvering will be seen in the subsequent Decarchies or Oligarchies of the Ten after the complete subjugation of Athens.
While Lysander and Cyrus thus regained their impressive influence on their side of the battle, Alcibiades' victorious exile won him over in the summer of 407 BC. In accordance with the agreement made with Pharnabazus after the suppression of Chalcedon, the Athenian fleet could not attack his satrapy and was therefore forced to subsist elsewhere. Byzantium and Selymbria, with taxes collected in Thrace, supported them through the winter: in the spring (407 BC) Alcibiades brought them back to Samos; whence he campaigned against the coast of Caria, collecting contributions of a hundred talents. Thrasybulus went with thirty triremes to attack Thrace, where he destroyed Thassos, Abdera and all the cities that had risen from Athens; Thassos is now particularly troubled by the famine and previous rebellions. Among the fruits of this success is, without a doubt, a valuable contribution in supporting the fleet. At the same time, Thrasilus was leading another division of the army towards Athens, with Alcibiades intending it to be a harbinger of his own return.
Before the arrival of Thrasylus, the people had already shown their favorable attitude to Alcibiades, re-electing him General of Arms, along with Thrasybulus and Konon. Alcibiades has now returned home from Samoswith twenty triremes, bringing with him all recent debts: he stopped first at Paros, then visited the coast of Laconia, and finally looked towards the Laconian port of Gytheion, where he heard that thirty triremes were being readied. The news he received of his re-election as a general was also reinforced by urgent invitations and encouragement from his friends. how the memory of his exiled relatives finally convinced him to sail to Athens. He arrived in Piraeus on a specific day, the Feast of Plynteria, on the 25th of the month of Thargelion, at the end of May 407 BC. This was a day of somber solemnity, considered inappropriate for any important action. The statue of the goddess Athena was stripped of all ornaments, hidden from view, and washed or cleaned under a mysterious ceremonial by the sacred gens called the Praxiergidae. Then the goddess seemed to turn her face away and refuse to see the returning exile. At least that was the construction of their enemies; and as the subsequent sequence of events tended to confirm it, it was preserved; while the more favorable counter-interpretation no doubt suggested by friends of his has been forgotten.
The most extravagant accounts of the pomp and splendor of this return of Alcibiades to Athens are given by some ancient authors, notably Duris of Samos, an author about two generations later. It is said that he brought with him two hundred bow ornaments from the ships of captured enemies, or, according to some, even the two hundred captured ships; that his trireme was adorned with shields of gold and silver and sailed with purple sails; that Callipides, one of the most prominent actors of the age, performed the functions of Keleustes and announced the song or word of command to the oarsmen; that Chrysogonus, a flutist who had won first prize at the Pythian Games, was also on board playing the Air of Return. All these details, invented with melancholy ease to illustrate an ideal of ostentation and impudence, are belied by Xenophon's simplest and most plausible narrative. Alcibiades' re-entry was not only bland, but even suspicious and frightening. He only had twenty triremes with him; and though he was excited, not only by the assurances of his friends, but also by the news that he had just been reappointed a general, he was almost afraid to go ashore, even at the moment when he found his ship Piraeus berthed in the harbour. pier. . . A large crowd from the city and port had gathered there to see his arrival, excited by curiosity, interest, and other emotions of all kinds, but he had so little confidence in his feelings that he hesitated at first to go ashore and stopped on deck. . and he searched for his friends and relatives. He immediately saw his cousin Euryptolemus and others, from whom he was warmly greeted and in the midst of whom he landed. But they were also so afraid of their numerous enemies that they formed a kind of bodyguard to surround and protect him from any possible attack on his march from Piraeus to Athens.
However, protection was not required. Not only did his enemies not attempt violence against him, but they did not even object when he defended himself before the senate and public assembly. He protested against both, his innocence of impiety charged against him, fiercely denounced the injustice of his enemies, and lamented sweetly, but pitifully, the cruelty of the people. All of his friends spoke warmly in the same tone. So energetic and so marked was the favor of the senate and the public assembly that no one dared to address them to the contrary. The conviction against him was overturned; the Eumolpidae were instructed to lift the curse they had placed on his head; the record of the judgment was destroyed, and the lead plate on which the curse was engraved was cast into the sea; their confiscated goods were restored; Most recent; He was made a general with full powers and was authorized to prepare an expedition of one hundred triremes, fifteen hundred regular-list hoplites and one hundred and fifty horsemen. All this was done unanimously, amid the silence of enemies and the applause of friends, amid immeasurable promises of future success on his part, and confident assurances printed by friends to willing hearers to say that Alcibiades was the only man capable to restore the empire and the greatness of his country. Athens. The general expectation, which he and his friends worked hard to awaken, was that his winning streak over the last three years would be a preparation for even greater triumphs in the years to come. If we refer to Alcibiades' apprehensions on entering Piraeus and the personal guard organized by his friends, we can be satisfied that this overwhelming and indisputable triumph far surpassed the expectations of both. It intoxicated him and made him mock the enemies he feared so much a moment ago. This error, together with the carelessness and impertinence that emanate from an apparently limitless superiority, proved to be the cause of his future ruin. But the truth is, as silent as these enemies are, they are still terrifying. Alcibiades was now in exile for eight years, from about August 415 BC. until May 407 BC. Now, his absence was good for her reputation in many ways, as her haughty and private behavior was kept out of sight and her ruthlessness partially overlooked. There was even a tendency among the majority to accept his own explicit denial of the facts of which he was accused, and mostly to respond to the undignified maneuvers of his enemies by defying his demand for an immediate trial immediately after the accusations were made. to get it, they could slander him during his absence. He was characterized as a patriot, inspired by the noblest motives, who placed first-rate talents and great private wealth in the service of the community, but was ruined by a conspiracy of corrupt and worthless orators, inferior to himself in every way. manner. . respect; Men whose only chance of success with the people was to drive out those better than them, while Alcibiades, far from having vested interests detrimental to democracy, was the natural and worthy favorite of a democratic people. As for the old causes of unpopularity, time and absence did much to weaken his effect, and to help his friends to combat them by pointing out the treacherous political maneuvers employed against him.
But if the former causes of unpopularity had comparatively faded from view, others of a more serious and indelible character have since arisen. His vengeful animosity towards his country was not only demonstratively proclaimed, but was also actively manifested, stabbing, but very effectively, taking aim at its vital parts. The sending of Gylippus to Syracuse, the fortification of Dekeleia, the revolts of Chios and Miletus, the first origin of the Conspiracy of the Four Hundred, were clearly Alcibiades' actions. Even for these, the enthusiasm of the moment tried an excuse, it was confirmed that, despite the evils that were done to him, he never stopped loving his country, and that the demands of exile forced him to serve the men he loved. he hated risking his life every day.But such claims could not really be imposed on anyone. Alcibiades' treachery during the period of his exile remained inexcusable and indisputable, and would have been more than enough trouble for his enemies if their languages had been free. But his position was unique: having done untold damage to his country, he has since rendered it valuable services and promised to do more. However, the subsequent service was by no means commensurate with the former calamity, nor has it been rendered exclusively by him since the victories at Abydos.and Cyzicus belongs to Theramenes, and Thrasybulos no less to Alcibiades; moreover, the peculiar gift or capital he had promised to bring with him - the Persian alliance and payment to Athena - had turned out to be sheer madness. However, the Athenian arms were extraordinarily successful in their association, and we can see that not only general reports but even good judges like Thucydides attributed this result to his superior energy and leadership.
Without going into these details, it is impossible to understand the very peculiar position of this return from exile before the Athenian people in the summer of 407 BC. The more distant past showed him as one of the worst criminals; the recent past as a valued and patriotic servant: the future promised continuity in this last figure, in so far as there was positive evidence of it. Now this was a case where arguing and scolding could serve no useful purpose. There were many reasons for restoring Alcibiades to his command; but this could only be done under the prohibition of criticism of his past crimes, and the provisional acknowledgment of his later good works to justify the hope of still better works. The people's instinct fully sensed this situation and forced absolute silence from their enemies. We cannot conclude from this that the people had forgotten Alcibiades' past exploits, or that they had nothing but unconditional trust and admiration for him. In her present, very justifiably hopeful frame of mind, they decided that she should be given complete freedom to pursue her new and better career if she so chose; and may his enemies be prevented from reviving the mention of an irreparable past to close the door on him. But what was forbidden from men's lips because it was untimely was not erased from her memory; nor were the enemies, though silenced for the moment, powerless for the future. This whole train of combustible matter lay motionless, ready to be ignited by future misconduct or negligence, perhaps even innocent fault on the part of Alcibiades.
At a time when so much depended on his future conduct, he demonstrated, as we shall shortly see, that he misinterpreted the mood of the people. Drunk with the unexpected triumph of his reception, he forgot his own antecedents, in accordance with that fatal susceptibility so common among Greek nobles, and believed that the people also had forgotten and forgiven them; interpret their practiced and deliberate silence as evidence of forgetfulness. He believed himself to be in secure possession of the public trust and regarded his many enemies as if they no longer existed, forbidden to speak at the most inopportune moment. His joy was no doubt shared by his friends, and this sense of false security tested his future destiny.
Two colleagues recommended by Alcibiades himself, Adeimantus and Aristocrates, were appointed by the people as generals of the hoplites to accompany him in case of operations on land. In less than three months their weapons were ready; but he purposely postponed his departure till that day in the month of Boedromion, at the beginning of September, when the Eleusinian Mysteries were celebrated, and when the solemn procession of the multitude of communicants was to take place along the Sacred Way from Athens to Eleusis. For seven consecutive years since the founding of the Agis at Dekeleia, this march has necessarily been interrupted and the procession transported by sea, omitting many of the ceremonial details. On this occasion Alcibiades renewed the march by land with all pomp and solemnity; He rallied all his troops in arms to protect himself should a Dekeleia attack come. He risked no such attack; so that he had the satisfaction of reliving all the regularity of that famous scene, and of escorting the numerous communicants out and home without the slightest interruption; an act of heroism that satisfies the religious sentiments of the people and instills an acceptable sense of undiminished Athenian power; though he was particularly political in regard to his own reputation, as it served to make peace with the Eumolpidae and the two goddesses on whose account he had been condemned.
Immediately after the Mysteries, he left with his weaponry. It seems that at Dekeleia, although Agis did not choose to go out and attack Alcibiades when he was assigned to guard the Eleusinian procession, he was humbled by the challenge made to him. Shortly afterwards, he took advantage of the departure of this great force to call for reinforcements from Peloponnese and Boeotia and try to surprise the walls of Athens in a dark night. If he expected some internal collusion, the conspiracy failed; The alarm was raised in time, and the older and younger hoplites found themselves at their posts defending the walls, boasting, they were seen the next day near the city walls, amply armed with all the remaining force of Athens. In a stubborn cavalry battle that followed, the Athenians even gained the upper hand over the ships. Agis camped in Akademus's garden the following night; The next morning he regrouped his troops and offered battle to the Athenians, who would have gone out in battle formation but kept under cover from the shells of the walls, so that Agis would not dare to attack. We can doubt that the Athenians left, as they had been accustomed for years to feeling inferior to the Peloponnesians in the field. Agis now withdrew, apparently satisfied that he had struggled to erase the insult he had received from the march of the Eleusinian Communicants in his neighborhood.
Alcibiades' first exploit was to advance to Andros, now under a Lacedaemonian army and garrison. Landing on the island, he plundered the fields, defeating both the native troops and the Lacedaemonians, forcing them to close in on the city. which he besieged in vain for a few days, and then proceeded to Samos, leaving Konon at a fortified post with twenty ships to continue the siege. At Samos he first inquired about the state of the Peloponnesian fleet at Ephesus, the influence Lysander was gaining over Cyrus, the young prince's strong anti-Athenian tendencies, and the abundant pay, noted in advance, even Peloponnesian sailors were now in the Front desk. . . Only now did the envoys escorted by Pharnabazus to Susa become convinced of the failure of those hopes, which he had not without reason had the year before and of which he doubtless boasted in Athens, that the alliance with Persia could at least be neutralized - it did not win In in vain did he get Tissaphernes to mediate with Cyrus, introduce him to some Athenian envoys, and instill in him his own views of Persia's true interests; that is, the war was to be fed and prolonged to wear down the two belligerent Greeks, each at the extreme of the other. Such a policy, always unsympathetic to Cyrus' violent temper, had grown even more repugnant to him since his dealings with Lysander. He would not even agree to see the envoys, nor would he probably not want to look down on a rival neighbor and satrap. Deep was the despondency among the Athenians at Samos, when they were sorely convinced that all Persia's hopes for them must be abandoned; and, moreover, this Persian payment for their enemies was more plentiful and surer than ever.
Lysander had a fleet of ninety triremes at Ephesus, which he himself repaired and enlarged, still outnumbering the Athenians. Alcibiades tried in vain to challenge him to general action. This was very advantageous to the Athenians, in addition to their numerical superiority, as they were poorly supplied with money and forced to collect contributions whenever they could; but Lysander was determined not to fight unless he could do so to advantage, and Cyrus, not fearing the protracted expenses of war, forced even this prudent policy upon him, with the added hope of a Phoenician fleet to his aid, not wanting to deceive. into her mouth as Tissaphernes had done. Unable to engage in the general battle, and without immediate ventures or capital to attract his attention, Alcibiades became careless, and gave himself up partly to the love of pleasure, partly to reckless and greedy adventures, to raise money to pay his army. Thrasybulus had come from his post on the Hellespont and was now busy fortifying Phocaea, presumably to establish a post so that he could plunder the interior. Here he joined Alcibiades, who sailed with a squadron, leaving his main fleet at Samos. He left him under the command of his favorite pilot, Antiochus, but with specific orders not to fight under any circumstances until he returned.
During this visit to Phocea and Klazomenae, Alcibiades, perhaps penniless, conceived the unwarranted project of enriching his men by plundering the neighboring territory of Kyme, an allied dependency of Athens. After inventing some frivolous slurs against the Kymaeans, he unexpectedly landed in their territory, first confiscating much property and a significant number of prisoners. But the inhabitants gathered arms, valiantly defended their possessions, and forced their men back to their ships; Recover looted goods and keep them safe within your walls. Struck by this miscarriage, Alcibiades sent hoplite reinforcements from Mytilene and marched on the walls of Kyme, where he vainly challenged the citizens to advance and fight. So he ravaged the area at will: the Cymaeans had no choice but to send emissaries to Athens to complain about such a gross outrage inflicted by the Athenian general on an innocent Athenian dependency.
This was a serious accusation, it was not the only accusation that Alcibiades had to face in Athens. During his absence from Phocea and Cyme, Antiochus, the pilot whom he had left in charge, against express orders to go to battle, sailed first from Samos to Notium, the port of Colophon, and thence to the mouth of the river Port of Ephesus, where the Peloponnese fleet was based. Entering that harbor with his own ship and another, he passed close to the prows of the Peloponnesian triremes, taunted them mockingly, and challenged them to battle. Lysander sent some ships to pursue him, and little by little action ensued, just what Antiochus wanted. while the Peloponnesian fleet was well prepared and controlled; so that the fight was wholly in favor of the latter. Although the Athenians were forced to flee, they were pursued as far as Notium and lost fifteen triremes, some along with their entire garrison. Antiochus himself was killed. Before retiring to Ephesus, Lysander had the satisfaction of laying his trophy on the shore of Notium; while the Athenian fleet returned to its station on Samos.
In vain Alcibiades, rushing back to Samos, gathered the entire Athenian fleet, sailed to the mouth of the port of Ephesus, and there arrayed his ships in order of battle to challenge the enemy. Lysander wouldn't give him a chance to erase the belated shame. And as a further humiliation for Athena, the Lacedaemonians captured Teos and Delphinium shortly afterwards; The latter was a fortified outpost that the Athenians had held on the island of Chios for the previous three years.
Even before the Battle of Notium, grievances and dissatisfaction with the armor seem to have been leveled against Alcibiades. He set out with a magnificent force, no less in number of triremes and hoplites than he led against Sicily, and with great promises, both from himself and his friends, of future conquests. But in a period that could hardly have been less than three months, no success was achieved; on the other hand, one had to take into account the disappointment in Persia, which greatly affected the mood of the armor and which, although it was not their fault, was contrary to their expectations, the shameful sack of Kyme and the defeat at Notium . It is true that Alcibiades had given unconditional orders to Antiochus not to fight and risked battle in flagrant disobedience to his orders. But this circumstance only brought new reasons for dissatisfaction of a serious nature. If Antiochus had disobeyed, if in addition to disobedience he had shown childish vanity and total disregard for all military precautions, who elected him deputy? And that too, against all Athenian precedent, to place the pilot, a paid officer of the ship, above the heads of the trierarchs, who paid their pilots and served at their own expense? It was Alcibiades who placed Antiochus in this serious and responsible position, a personal favourite, an excellent companion, but without all the makings of a general. And this called attention to another aspect of Alcibiades' character, his habits of excessive licentiousness and extravagance. The loud murmur of the camp accused him of neglecting the Service's interest in amusements with merry feasts and Ionian women, and of admitting into his confidence those who best contributed to the entertainment of these chosen hours.
On the field of Samos this general indignation against Alcibiades first arose, and from there it was formally conveyed to Athens by the mouth of Thrasybulus, son of Thraso, not the eminent Thrasybulus, son of Lycus, of whom history is often spoken of. of Athens and will be repeated. . At the same time, Kyme's complaints against Alcibiades' groundless attack and plundering of that place reached Athens; and apparently complaints from other places. It was even charged against him that he was guilty of collusion to deliver the fleet to Pharnabazus and the Lacedaemonians, and that he had already prepared three strong forts at Chersonesus to withdraw as soon as this plan was ripe for execution.
Such serious and widespread accusations, together with the Notium disaster and the utter disappointment of all promises of success, were more than enough to change the Athenians' feelings towards Alcibiades. He didn't have the character to fall back on; nay, he was of a worse character than any other, so as not to make the most criminal charge of treason improbable in himself. Statements by his enemies, forcibly excluded from public discussion during his summer visit to Athens, have now been declassified; and all the adverse memories of his past life undoubtedly revived. The people refused to listen to them so that he could have a fair trial and the title claimed by his friends solely on the basis of his later exploits, dated to 411 BC. Now he had his judgment; they found it lacking; and the confidence of the people provisionally placed in him was withdrawn.
It is not intended to represent just the Athenian people, but Plutarch and Cornelius Nepos can give us this image when in the month of July they placed an extravagant and immeasurable trust in Alcibiades, asking him for more than the man could pay, and how then, in the month By December, with childlike bluntness, he had gone from confidence to angry resentment that his own impossible expectations had still not been met. There is no doubt that the people had great expectations of so substantial an armament: the greatest of all were probably, as in the case of the Sicilian expedition, those maintained by Alcibiades himself and promulgated by his friends. But we are not called upon to determine what the people would have done if Alcibiades, having discharged all the duties of a faithful, able, and enterprising commander, had failed, owing to obstacles beyond his control, to carry out his promises and hopes. . Such a case did not occur: what happened was essentially different. In addition to his lack of big hits, he was also negligent and reckless in his major roles; he exposed the Athenian arms to defeat by his disgraceful selection of an unworthy lieutenant; he had invaded the territory and property of an Allied dependency at a time when Athens had a primary interest in cultivating the bond of its remaining allies by any means necessary. The truth is, as I have remarked before, the heady reception he so unexpectedly received in the city spoiled him. He had confounded an audience of hopeful admirers, determined even by enforced silence about the past to give it all the benefits of a meritorious future, but demanding as a condition that that future be truly meritorious, whose favor he had already won and could call upon. of yours. own. . He became a different man after this visit, like Miltiades after the Battle of Marathon; nay, impulses of an essentially extravagant and shameless character broke free from the restraint under which they had been partially controlled. At the time of the battle of Cyzicus, when Alcibiades was struggling to regain favor with his wounded compatriots and was still uncertain whether he could succeed, he would not have made the mistake of abandoning his fleet and leaving it under the command of a lieutenant. like Antiochus. So if the mood of the Athenians towards Alcibiades in the autumn of 407 B.C. a change for the worse, even in the crisis, when everything revolved around his good behavior and at least his merit when he failed to succeed.
Indeed, we may conclude that Nicias's errors before Syracuse and in connection with the arrival of Gylippus were far more serious and malicious than those of Alcibiades during this turning point in his career, and the disappointment of earlier hopes at least as great. But while these errors and mistakes caused Alcibiades to be deposed and disgraced, they did not cause the Athenians to dismiss Nicias, although he wished, nor did they prevent them from sending him a second weapon, which failed along with the first. The contrast is very instructive, as it shows where enduring esteem was directed in Athens; how long could the melancholy public overlook incompetence when piety, propriety, good intentions, and high position masked it; How fleeting was the rise of a man vastly superior in skill and energy, and equal status, when his moral qualities and past life inspired fear and hatred in many, and esteem in none. But in general, Nicias, considering him an officer, was much more destructive for his country than Alcibiades. The damage which the latter inflicted on Athena was declared to be in the service of her enemies.
Upon hearing the news of Notium's defeat and the grievances heaped against Alcibiades, the Athenians simply voted that he should be relieved of their command; Appointment of ten new generals to replace him. It was not brought to justice, nor do we know if such a measure was proposed. His Kyme trial, if it happened as we read it, is a well-deserved legal challenge; and the people, if they had treated it that way, would only have performed the precious function assigned to it by the oligarchic Phrinic, "to serve as a refuge to their dependent allies and to punish against them the autocratic oppression of the optimates." Athens in relation to war abroad, such a political process would have produced much discord and calamity. And Alcibiades avoided the problem by not coming to Athens. As soon as he learned of his discharge, he immediately withdrew from the army to his own fortified posts on the Chersonese.
The ten new generals appointed were Konon, Diomedon, Leon, Pericles, Erasinides, Aristocrates, Archestratus, Protomachus, Thrasyllus, Aristogenes. By these Konon, with the twenty ships he had there, was ordered to leave Andros at once to engage Alcibiades' fleet; while Phanostenes continued with four triremes to replace Konon on Andros.
On the way there, Phanosthenes encountered Dorieus the Rhodium and two Thurian triremes, which he captured with all men on board. The captives were sent to Athens, where all but Dorieus himself were detained in case of a future exchange. He was sentenced to death and banished from his hometown of Rhodes along with his relatives, presumably for political alienation when Rhodes was a member of the Athenian Confederation. Since becoming a citizen of Thurii, he has served with distinction in Mindarus's fleet, both at Miletus and the Hellespont. The Athenians now felt so sorry for him that they released him immediately and unconditionally, without even asking for a ransom or anything like that. The particular circumstances which governed his sympathy, which were a welcome exception to the melancholy habits which permeated the Greek custom of warfare in both belligerents, we should never know from Xenophon's meager account. But we find from other sources that Dorieus, son of Diagoras of Rhodes, was famous above all other Greeks for his pankration victories in the Olympic, Isthmian, and Nemean festivals; that he won first prize at three consecutive Olympic festivals, including the Olympics of 88 or 428 BC. came second, an unprecedented prize, along with eight Isthmian and seven Nemean prizes; that his father, Diagoras, his brothers and cousins were acclaimed as successful athletes; finally, that the family was famous on their native island of Rhodes from time immemorial and even descended from the Messenian hero Aristomenes. When the Athenians saw before them as their captive a man who was undoubtedly of great stature and presence, as may be inferred from his sporting success, and who was surrounded by such an aura of glory as to capture the Greek imagination, feeling, and custom . in most cases, the war was called off immediately.Though Dorieus was one of their worst enemies, they couldn't bear to touch him or demand any conditions. Released by them on this occasion, he lived to be killed by the Lacedaemonians some thirteen years later.
When Konon arrived at Samos to assume command, he found the armament in a state of great despair; not only of the disgraceful Notium affair, but also of Alcibiades' dashed hopes and difficulties in obtaining a regular salary. The latter inconvenience was so painfully felt that Konon's first measure was to reduce the number of guns from over a hundred triremes to seventy; and reserve for the reduced fleet all the best sailors of the larger ones. With this fleet, he and his companions scoured enemy shores to collect and pay for loot.
Apparently around the same time, Konon succeeded Alcibiades, around December 407 BC. or January 406 BC. BC, the year of Lysander's command expired and Kallikratidas came from Sparta to replace him. His arrival was met with undisguised discontent by the main armed Lacedaemonians, by the heads of the Asiatic cities, and by Cyrus. Now he felt the full impact of those contentious correspondences and intrigues that Lysander had built up with them all to indirectly resolve the eternity of his own command. While loud complaints were heard about Sparta's impoliteness in changing its admiral annually, both Cyrus and the others agreed with Lysander in putting difficulties in the way of the new successor.
Kallikratidas, who unfortunately was only shown by fate and did not continue in the Greek world, was one of the noblest characters of his time. Besides perfect courage, energy, and incorruptibility, he was distinguished by two qualities, both very rare among eminent Greeks; all frankness of treatment, and an equally broad, exalted, and merciful Panhellenic patriotism. Lysander handed her nothing more than an empty bag; after repaying Ciro all the money left to him under the pretense that it had been entrusted to him personally. Furthermore, when he handed over the fleet to Kalikratidas at Ephesus, he boasted that he had handed over the dominion of the sea to him by means of the recent victory at Notium. "Lead the fleet from Ephesus along the coast of Samos past the Athenian station," replied Kalikratidas, "and deliver it to me at Miletus: then I will believe in your mastery of the sea." Lisandro had nothing more to say, except that he shouldn't face any more difficulties, remembering that his command had been transferred to someone else.
Kallikratidas soon found that the main Lacedaemonians in the fleet, defending the interests of his predecessor, openly complained on his arrival and secretly obstructed all his actions; to which he called them and said, 'For my part, I am very happy to stay at home; and if Lysander or anyone else claims to be a better admiral than I am, I have no objections. But since the Spartan authorities have sent me here to command the fleet, I have no choice but to carry out their orders as best I can. You know how far my ambition goes; You also know about protests abroad against our common city (due to frequent changes of admirals). Check it out and give me your opinion. Should I stay where I am or go home and tell them what happened here?
This energetic and dignified protest showed its full effect. Everyone replied that it was their duty to stay and take charge. The whisper and the cabal ceased from that moment on.
His next embarrassment arose from Lysander's maneuver to return Cyrus all the money from which the army's ongoing pay came. Of course, this move was admirably calculated to regret the change in command. Kallikratidas, who had been sent without funds, fully relying on Sardis' inexhaustible supplies, was now forced to go in person and ask for the bounty to be renewed. But Cyrus, anxious to show his sympathy for the last admiral in every respect, postponed it first for two days, then for a period longer, until Kalikratidas's patience was exhausted, so that he left Sardis in disgust without a conversation. So intolerable to his feelings was the humiliation of begging in this way at the palace gates, that he bitterly regretted the miserable disagreements between the Greeks, which obliged both parties to seek money abroad; He swore that if he survived that year's campaign, he would do everything possible to bring about an agreement between Athens and Sparta.
Meanwhile, he used all his energies to raise money in other ways to get the fleet to sea; knowing full well that the way to overcome Cyrus's reluctance was to show that she could do without him. He first sailed from Ephesus to Miletus and from there sent a small squadron to Sparta, revealing his unexpected poverty and asking for quick financial help. However, he summoned the Milesians to a meeting, informed them of the mission that had just been sent to Sparta, and asked for a provisional supply until that money arrived. He reminded them that the need for this process arose entirely from Lysander's maneuver in returning the money to their hands; that he had already asked Cyrus for more funds in vain, and only met with an insulting oversight which he could no longer bear: that they, the Milesians, lived in the midst of the Persians, and had once suffered the greatest mistreatment from them, if now the first in the Be cautious and set an example of zeal to the other allies, the sooner they will free themselves from dependence on such authoritarian supervisors. He promised that when Sparta's move and the time for success came, he would reward their determination handsomely. "Let us show, with the help of the gods, these foreigners (he concluded) that we can punish our enemies without worshiping them."
The spectacle of this generous patriot struggling against a humiliating foreign dependency, now unfortunately entrusted to the leading Greeks on both sides, arouses our sincere sympathy and admiration. We may add that his language to the Milesians, which reminds them of the misery they had suffered at the hands of the Persians as the reason for their war effort, is full of lectures on the new situation which had developed for the Asiatic Greeks since the open conflict. collapse. of Athenian power. They suffered no such evils as long as Athena could protect them, and as long as they were ready to receive protection from her, during the interval of more than fifty years between the complete organization of the Delian Confederacy and the catastrophe of Nicias before Syracuse. .
The determined energy of Kallikratidas acted on all who heard him and aroused such alarm even among the leading Milesians, secretly playing Lysander's game, who were the first to propose a large sum of money for the war and significant offering sums of their own. pocket; An example that would likely soon be followed by other Allied cities. Some of Lysander's friends tried to put conditions on his offers; demanding an arrest warrant for the destruction of his political enemies in hopes of compromising the new admiral. But he steadfastly refused to render such guilty obeisance. He soon managed to assemble fifty new triremes at Miletus, in addition to the triremes left behind by Lysander, forming a fleet of one hundred and forty ships. After the Chians provided him with a set of five drachmas for each sailor, which is the normal ten days' wages, he sailed north with the entire fleet to Lesbos. Of this numerous fleet, the largest hitherto assembled in the whole war, only ten triremes were Lacedaemonians;while a considerable proportion, and among the best equipped, were Boeotians and Euboeans. On his journey to Lesbos, Kallikratidas appears to have become lord of Phocea and Kyme, perhaps more easily as a result of Alcibiades' recent mistreatment of the Kymeans. He then sailed to attack Methymna on the north coast of Lesbos. a city not only strongly associated with the Athenians, but also defended by an Athenian garrison. Though initially repulsed, he renewed his attacks until he finally took the city by storm. All properties in it were looted by the soldiers and the slaves collected and sold for their profit. Furthermore, the allies were obliged, and expected according to common custom, to sell the Metinean and Athenian captives as well. But Kallikratidas categorically refused and released them the next day; He declared that, so long as he was in charge, no free Greek should be reduced to slavery if he could help it.
No one who is not familiar with the details of Greek warfare can feel the full grandeur of this process, which, in my view, has no parallel in Greek history. Not only were the prisoners saved and released; Analogous cases can be found in this respect, though not very often. It is that this particular act of generosity was performed in the name and on the recommendation of the Panhellenic Brotherhood and of Panhellenic independence from abroad: an integral principle, announced by Kallikratidas on previous occasions like this, but now realized in practice under explicit circumstances and combined with an express declaration of intent to continue to do so in the future. After all, this step was taken in defiance of the formal requisition of his allies, whom he had very imperfect means of payment or control, and who were therefore all the more dangerous to offend. There is no doubt that these allies were personally offended and outraged by the loss, as well as baffled by the proposal of so new and binding a rule regarding belligerent relations in Greece; against which also, we add, their murmurs would not be without foundation, "If we become Konon's prisoners, he will not treat us thus," whether in public or in private; and Kallikratidas no doubt felt reasonably confident that two or three startling examples would significantly alter future practice on both sides. But someone has to start setting those examples, and the man who starts, with a position that offers a reasonable chance for others to follow, is the hero. An admiral like Lysander not only warmly sympathized with the Allies' grievances, but also condemned them as a dereliction of duty to Sparta; Even better men than Lysander would at first coldly regard this as a kind of quixotism, and doubt whether the example would be copied, while the Spartan ephors, though likely to tolerate it, being very sparing with their admirals in the water, would certainly have little. sympathy with the sentiments in which it arose. Kallikratidas is all the more admirable for producing not only a Panhellenic patriotism rare in Athens or Sparta, but an even rarer power of character and individual conscience which enabled him to defy unpopularity and break out of rut, in an attempt to make that patriotism fruitful. and effective in practice. In his career, so sadly and prematurely ended, there was at least this enviable circumstance; that the conquest of Methymna offered him an opportunity, which he eagerly seized, as if he knew he would be the last to put in practice and test the full aspirations of his magnanimous soul.
Kallikratidas informed Konon of the freed captives that he would soon end his adulterous dealings with the sea; whom he now considered his wife and rightfully belonged to him, with one hundred and forty triremes against Konon's seventy triremes. This admiral, despite his smaller numbers, advanced close to Methymna to try to relieve him; However, finding the place already conquered, he withdrew to the islands called Hekatonnesoi, which lie off the mainland and northeast of Lesbos. There he was followed by Kallikratidas, who, leaving Methymna at night, abandoned him from his litter at dawn and immediately set sail to try to cut him off south to Samos. But Konon, having reduced the number of his triremes from a hundred to seventy, was able to check all the best rowers, so that he overtook Kalikratidas in speed and entered the port of Mytilene first. However, its pursuers gave chase and even entered the harbor with it before it could be closed and placed in a state of defense. Forced to do battle at its entrance, he was utterly defeated; thirty of his ships were captured, though the crews escaped ashore; and he saved the remaining forty only by dragging them ashore under the wall.
Originally founded on a small island off Lesbos, the city of Mytilene later spread across a strait to Lesbos. By this strait, we do not know whether it was crossed or not, the city was divided in two and had two harbours, one opening to the Hellespont to the north and the other to the south to the headland of Kane on the mainland. These two ports were defenseless and both were now under occupation by the Peloponnesian fleet; at least the entire outer part of each near the harbor exit, which Kallikratidas kept under surveillance. At the same time, he sent all of Methymna's force and hoplites off Chios to blockad Mytilene by land and sea. Once his success became known, Cyrus also immediately sent him money for the fleet, along with special gifts for him, which he refused to accept; to facilitate your future operations.
No preparations had been made for a siege of Mytilene: no provisions had been stored and the quantity within the walls was so considerable that Konon could foresee the imminent depletion of his resources. Nor could he expect any help from Athens, unless he could send a message of his condition there; of which the Athenians, unable to do so, knew nothing. It took all of his wits to get a trireme out of port safely in front of the enemy guard. He launched two triremes, the best sailors in his fleet, and chose for them the best oarsmen among all the rest. He got these oarsmen on board before daybreak, and hid the epibatae, or marines, within the ship, instead of on deck, which was their usual place, with a moderate supply of provisions, and holding the ship, as was customary. custom, with skins or sails covered, with boats pulled ashore to protect them from the sun. These two triremes were ready to march in an instant without giving the enemy any indication that it was them. They were fully manned before dawn, the crews remaining in their positions throughout the day and laying down to rest after dark. This went on for four consecutive days without a favorable opportunity to give the signal to attempt a pitch. At last, on the fifth day, towards noon, with many Peloponnesian crews ashore to dine and others resting, the moment seemed propitious, the signal was given, and the two triremes set off at once at their greatest speed; one to exit towards the sea between Lesbos and Chios at the south entrance, the other to exit towards the Hellespont at the north entrance. Immediately the alarm was sounded in the Peloponnesian fleet: the cables were cut, men climbed aboard, and many triremes were launched to reach the two fugitives. Those who, despite their best efforts, sailed south were captured at dusk and brought back with their entire crew as prisoners: those from the Hellespont escaped, skirting the north coast of Lesbos and arriving safely in Athens with the message; He also apparently sent information to the Athenian admiral Diomedon on Samos.
The latter immediately rushed to Konon's aid with the small force he had with him, no more than twelve triremes. With both harbors guarded by a superior force, he attempted to gain access to Mytilene by approaching the city across the Euripus, a strait that empties into an inland lake or bay on the south coast of the island. But here he was suddenly attacked by Kallikratidas, and his squadron was taken prisoner, except for two triremes, his and another; he himself had great difficulty in escaping.
Athens was shocked by the news of Konon's defeat and the blockade of Mytilene. All the forces and energies of the city were devoted to his relief, an effort greater than anything else undertaken during the war. We read with astonishment that in the short space of thirty days a fleet of no less than 110 triremes was equipped and dispatched from Piraeus. Every man of age and strength, to serve without distinction, was taken to make a good crew; not only free, but slaves, to whom freedom was promised as a reward: also many knights or knights, and citizens of the first rank, climbed aboard as epibats, and hung up the reins like Cimon before the battle of Salamis. The charge was, in fact, as democratic and balanced as on that memorable occasion. The fleet proceeded directly to Samos, where no doubt orders were sent to gather whatever triremes the Allies could provide as reinforcements, as well as the scattered Athenians. In this way forty more triremes were assembled, ten of them Samian, and the whole fleet, one hundred and fifty sails, sailed from Samos to the small islands called Arginusae, close to the mainland, off Malea, the southeastern cape of Samos. Lesbos.
Kallikratidas, informed of the new fleet's approach while still on Samos, withdrew most of his forces from Mytilene, leaving fifty triremes under Eteonikus to continue the blockade. Less than fifty probably wouldn't be enough, as there were two harbors to patrol; but thus he was reduced to facing the outnumbered Athenian fleet, one hundred and twenty triremes against one hundred and fifty. His fleet was off Cape Malea, where the crews dined, the same night the Athenians dined on the opposite islands of Arginusae. His plan was to cross the English Channel at night and attack them in the morning before they were ready; but violent winds and rain compelled him to postpone all movements until daybreak. The next morning, both sides prepared for the biggest naval engagement of the entire war. Its pilot, Megarian Hermon, advised Kalikratidas to withdraw for the time being without a fight, as the Athenian fleet had a numerical advantage of thirty triremes. He replied that escaping was a pity and that even if he died, Sparta would not be worse off. The answer corresponded to his chivalrous character; and we may imagine that, having been master of the sea for the last two or three months, he remembered his own haughty message to Konon, and considered it dishonorable to incur similar mockery on his resignation or victory. We can also point out that the numerical disparity, although serious, was not likely to make the fight futile, nor to serve as a legitimate reason for the withdrawal of those who prided themselves on their Spartan bravery.
The Athenian fleet was so constituted that its greatest strength was located on both wings; In each of these were sixty Athenian ships divided into four equal divisions, each division commanded by a general. Of the four squadrons of fifteen ships each, two were positioned forward and two aft in support. Aristocrates and Diomedon commanded the front two squadrons of the left division, Pericles and Erasinides the rear two squadrons: in the right division Protomachus and Thrasilus commanded the front two, Lysias and Aristogenes the rear two. The center, where the Samians and other allies were, remained weak and all in one line; it seems to have been close to one of the islands of Arginusae, while the other two divisions were on the right and left of that island. With some astonishment we read that the entire Lacedaemonian fleet was assembled from individual ships because they sailed better and maneuvered better than the Athenians; who formed their right and left divisions in deep order to prevent the enemy from carrying out the Diekplus and Periplus nautical maneuvers. It seems that the Athenian centre, having the country immediately to its rear, should have been better protected against an enemy "crossing the line and sailing to the rear" than the other divisions that were on the open sea; Because of this, it became weak, with the ships lined up. But what strikes us most is the fact that, if we go back to the beginning of the war, we find that these diekplus and periplus were private maneuvers of the Athenian navy and continued to be so until the siege of Syracuse; the Lacedaemonians were at first wholly unable to perform them, and for a long time performed them with far less skill than the Athenians. Now the comparative value of both sides is reversed: superiority in nautical capabilities has passed to the Peloponnesians and their allies; the precautions by which this superiority is neutralized or circumvented are imposed as a necessity on the Athenians. How surprised the Athenian admiral Phormio would have been to see the fleets and order of battle at Arginusae!
Kalikratidas himself was on the right of his fleet with the ten Lacedaemonian ships; on the left were the Boeotians and Euboeans under the command of the Admiral of Boeotia Thrasondas. The battle was long and stubborn, first by the two fleets in their original order; later, when all order was broken, the scattered ships mingled and fought in single combat. Finally, the brave Kallikratidas died. His ship was about to collide with an enemy ship, and he himself probably, like Brasidas on Pylos, sat on the forecastle to be the first to board the enemy or to prevent the enemy boarding from the shock caused by the impact. knocked him over and he fell into the sea and drowned. Despite the dismay his death brought, the ten Lacedaemonian triremes displayed courage worthy of him, and nine of them were destroyed or incapacitated. Finally the Athenians were victorious on all sides, the Peloponnesian fleet surrendered, and their flight became general, partly to Chios, partly to Phocea. More than sixty of their ships were wrecked, besides the nine Lacedaemonians, seventy-seven in all; Total loss of more than half of the entire fleet. The Athenian loss was also heavy, totaling twenty-five triremes. They returned to Arginusae after the battle.
The victory at Arginusae provided the strongest test of how much democratic energy Athens could achieve, despite so many years of tedious warfare. But it would have been much better if your energy had been less effective and less successful this time. The defeat of the Peloponnesian fleet and the death of its admirable leader - we must consider the second as inseparable from the first, as Kalikratidas was not the man who survived the defeat - were a great calamity for the whole Greek world; and especially a calamity for Athens itself. If Kalikratidas had won and survived, he would certainly have been the man who ended the Peloponnesian War; for Mytilene must have immediately surrendered, and Konon, with the whole Athenian fleet blocked there, must have become his captives; This circumstance, after defeat, would have inclined Athens to accept any tolerable peace. To have the terms now dictated by a man like Kallikratidas, free from corrupt personal ambitions and generous Panhellenic patriotism, at a time when his power was not utterly crushed, would have been the best fate he could have had at that time; though it would have been an inexpressible advantage to the Greek world at large that, in the reorganization it was sure to undergo at the end of the war, the aspiring individual of the day would be imbued with devotion to the great ideas of Greek brotherhood at home and Greek independence abroad. Nearly such an advantage was opened up by that rare opportunity which Kalikratidas threw at the command, enabling him not only to publicize his lofty creed, but also to show that he was ready to act upon it, and to propel it to complete success. for a moment. The envious gods were never more envious than when, by the catastrophe of Arginusae, they frustrated the conquest they seemed to promise. The relevance of these comments will be better understood in the next chapter, when I relate the actual ending of the Peloponnesian War under the auspices of the useless but capable Lysander. Command returned to him, almost a transfer from the best Greeks to the worst. We shall then see how much the sufferings of the Greek world, and of Athens in particular, were aggravated by their individual character and inclinations, and then we shall feel, on the contrary, how much would have been gained if the general had been armed with so many Great power would have been dictated if he had been a panhellenic patriot. To feel that the patriotism imposed on all of Greece by the victorious leader of the time, with unshakable honesty and determination, in a time of collapse and reorganization, would have spurred all the best feelings of the Greek mind like no other combination of circumstances. could have can offer. The defeat and death of Kalikratidas was therefore an even more deplorable loss for Athens and Greece than for Sparta itself. For his high character and patriotism, even in so short a career, we look in vain for a parallel.
News of the defeat was quickly conveyed to Eteonikus in Mytilene by the admiral's signal ship. As soon as he heard it, he told the signal ship's crew not to say anything to anyone, but to leave port again and then return with wreaths and shouts of triumph, shouting that Kallikratidas had won the victory and destroyed or captured it. All Athenian ships. So Konon and the besieged kept themselves from any suspicion of the reality, while Eteonicus himself, who seemed to believe the news, offered the sacrifice of thanksgiving; but he ordered all the triremes to eat and then depart without delay, and he ordered the captains of the merchant ships also to silently bring their belongings aboard and go ashore at the same time. And so all these ships, triremes and merchant ships, with little or no delay and without the slightest hindrance from Konon, left the harbor and were brought safely to Chios with fair winds. Eteonicus simultaneously withdrew his land forces to Methymna, burning down his camp. Konon, so unexpectedly released, went to sea with his ships when the wind subsided and joined the main Athenian fleet, which he had already encountered on the way from Arginusae to Mytilene. The latter soon reached Mytilene, and thence passed on to attack Chios; As the attack was unsuccessful, they proceeded to their usual station on Samos.
The news of the victory at Arginusae filled Athens with joy and triumph. All slaves who served in the army were freed and promoted under the promise of Plataian rights in Athens, a qualified type of citizenship. But the joy was poisoned by another incident, which became known at the same time, aroused feelings of a completely opposite character and ended in one of the darkest and most disgraceful events in all Athenian history.
Not only were the bodies of dead warriors floating in the water collected for burial, but the wreckage was not visited to rescue those who were still alive. Only the first of these two points would have been enough to awaken in Athens a painful feeling of offended pity. But the second point, here an essential part of the same omission, kindled that feeling of shame, sadness, and indignation of the most acute kind.
In descriptions of this event, Diodorus and many other writers observe the first point exclusively, or at least with slight reference to the second; the latter, however, is the most serious in the estimation of all impartial critics, and was also the most violent in its effect on Athenian sentiments. Twenty-five Athenian triremes were shipwrecked along with most of their crews; that is, lying on their heels or incapacitated, with crushed oars, without masts or means of locomotion; Bare hulls, partially broken by the impact of an enemy ship, gradually filling up and sinking. The original crew consisted of two hundred men each. The battlefield, if we can use that word for a maritime space, was littered with such wreckage; The men who remained on board were defenseless and could not escape, as the old trireme had neither a boat nor means of escape. Also swimming were men who fell overboard or who tried to save their lives with accidental clubs or empty barrels. It was one of the privileges of naval victory that the winning party could sail across the battlefield and thus help its own helpless or wounded comrades aboard the disabled ships, capturing and sometimes killing the people associated with the enemy. Even after the speech which Euryptolemus, the culprit of the accused generals, later made in the Athenian assembly, there were twelve triremes with their crews on board in the state just described. This is a defense admission and therefore the bare minimum of reality: there could be no less, but there were probably many more than the twenty-five given by Xenophon. As no steps were taken to rescue them, the surviving parts of these crews, wounded and unharmed, gradually drowned as each disabled ship sank. If any of them escaped, it was thanks to exceptionally good swimming skills, lucky finding a board or pole, at least the embarrassment of throwing away their weapons, and a method no wounded person could use.
The generals' first letter, announcing the victory, made known at the same time the loss suffered in their conquest. It no doubt foreshadowed the fact that we read in Xenophon, that twenty-five Athenian triremes, with nearly all their garrison, had been lost; we may be sure to name every trireme that thus perished; for each trireme of the Athenian navy, like modern ships, had its own name. At the same time, it was mentioned that the victorious survivors made no arrangements to rescue their wounded and drowned compatriots aboard the sinking ships. A storm arose, the reason was given, so strong that all these interventions became completely impractical.
When it comes to Greek history, it is so common to think of the Athenian people as a group of children or madmen whose feelings are not worth trying to explain, that I have been forced to explain these circumstances at length to show that the mixed mood stirred in Athens by the news of the Battle of Arginusae was perfectly natural and justifiable. Mingled with the joy of victory was the horror and sadness that so many of the brave men who had contributed to the victory had slipped away to die. Friends and family members of the crews of these lost triremes were, of course, the first to express such indignant emotions. Beautiful, confused, and unfair, Xenophon's narrative portrays this emotion as if it were unfounded, artificial, inflated by the constant irascibility of the crowd through the devices of Theramenes, Callixenus, and a few others. But whatever these people did to heighten the public uproar or to serve evil ends, the uproar itself was certainly spontaneous, inevitable, and amply justified. The mere thought that so many of Victory's brave associates had to drown miserably in the hulls of sinking ships, with no effort by their generals and close comrades to save them, was enough to excite all sensibilities, both public and private. . highly passive nature. , even among citizens who were not related to the deceased, much more among those who were. To expect the Athenians to be so absorbed in the joy of victory and in gratitude to the commanding generals that they would overlook such a desertion of dying warriors and such an omission of the duty of compassion is, I think, utterly absurd; and, if true, it would establish one more vice in the Athenian people, besides those which they actually had, and many others with which they were unjustly branded.
The generals justified their omission in their public letter by saying that the force of the storm was too great to move. First, was this really true? So was there time to do the duty, or at least try to do it, before the storm became so unbearable? These points called for examination. The generals, honored with a vote of thanks for their victory, were replaced and sent home; Everyone except Konon, who was imprisoned in Mytilene, was not interested in this question. Two new colleagues, Philocles and Adimantus, were appointed to come and join him. The generals probably received notice of their retirement on Samos and then returned home; He apparently arrived in Athens in late September or early October after the Battle of Arginusae in August 406 BC. Cr.. Two of the generals, however, Protomachus and Aristogenes, refused to come: warned of the discontent of the people, and not counting on opposing them, they preferred to pay the price of voluntary exile. The other six, Pericles, Lysias, Diomedon, Erasinides, Aristocrates and Thrasilus - Arquestratus, one of the original ten who died at Mytilene - arrived without their two colleagues; an unpleasant omen for the outcome.
On his first arrival Archedemus, then an acceptable orator of the people, and in the exercise of some magistrate or high office which we cannot clearly discern, imposed on Erasinides a fine of limited amount which was within the jurisdiction of the magistrates without the sanction of the Department of State and also accused him before the Department; partly because of the general misconduct of his command, partly because of the specific charge of having stolen public funds from the Hellespont. Erasinides was found guilty and sentenced to prison until the money was recovered or perhaps until further investigation could be carried out into the other alleged crimes.
This trial of Erasinides took place before the generals were called before the senate to give their formal statement on the recent battle and subsequent neglect of the drowning. And it might almost seem as if Archedemus wanted to blame Erasinides for this neglect entirely, in addition to the other generals; a distinction, as will be shown later, is not wholly unfounded. However, if such a project was considered, it was not successful. When the generals took their case to the Senate, the panel's decision was decidedly unfavorable to all of them, although we have no details of the earlier debate. At the suggestion of Senator Timocrates, it was decided to arrest the other five generals present and Erasinides and hand them over to the People's Assembly to deal with the case.
So the public meeting was held and the generals paraded. Here we are told who emerged as chief prosecutor, along with several others; unfortunately, we have to guess what issues they insisted on. Theramenes was the man who most vehemently denounced them for allowing handicapped trireme crews to drown and for neglecting all efforts to save them. He appealed to his own public letter to the people, which officially announced the victory; In that letter, they did not mention that they had assigned someone to do the duty, nor did they hold anyone accountable for failing to do so. So the omission was theirs: they could have done it, and they should have been punished for such callous dereliction of duty.
Generals could not have a more formidable enemy than Theramenes. We had occasion to follow him through the Revolution of the Fourteenth as a shrewd and devious politician: since then he had been a high military commander, a participant in the victory with Alcibiades at Cyzicus and elsewhere; and he himself served as trierarch in the victory of Arginusae. His authority was therefore high and significant in denying the justification the generals had made based on the severity of the storm. In his opinion they could and should have rescued the drowned, or they could have done it before the storm came, or there was never a storm strong enough to stop them, the responsibility for the Omission rested on their heads. Xenophon, in his dismal account, does not explicitly tell us that Theramenes contradicted the generals about the storm. But that he contradicted them so categorically is clear from what Xenophon accuses him of saying. It also appears that Thrasybulus, another trierarch in Arginusae, and a man not only of equal importance, but of far more estimable character, agreed with Theramenes in the same charge against the generals, though he was not so prominent in the case. Then he too must have denied the reality of the storm; or at least the fact that it was so immediately after the battle, or so horrible, that it forbids any effort to help these drowning sailors.
The generals' case before the Athenian public changed completely when men like Theramenes and Thrasybulos emerged as their accusers. What these two said no doubt was said by others, in the Senate and elsewhere; but now it was being publicly proposed by influential men who were perfectly aware of the fact. And we can see so indirectly, what Xenophon's narration, assiduously concealing the accusations against the generals, does not directly bring out, that although the generals affirmed the storm, others were present who denied it, and with it he opened a polemic about the fact from which he formed his solitary justification. Furthermore, after the reply of the generals in the public assembly to Theramenes and Thrasybulos, we arrive at a new point in the matter, which Xenophon announces, as it were indirectly, in that confused manner which runs through his whole account of the transaction. However, it is a new extreme moment point. The generals replied that if anyone was to blame for not presuming drowning, it was Theramenes and Thrasybulus themselves; because these two generals, together with several other trierarchs, and with forty-eight triremes, had been expressly entrusted with the performance of this duty; it was the two responsible for their omission, not the generals. However, they, the generals, did not attack Theramenes and Thrasybulos, knowing that the storm had rendered the discharge of duty utterly impossible, and that therefore it was complete justification both for the one and the other. They, the generals at least, could do no more than direct competent men like these two trierarchs to the task, and assign them a suitable squadron for the purpose; while they themselves attack Eteonikus with the main fleet and relieve Mytilene. Diomedon, one of them, wished after the battle to use all the ships in the fleet to rescue the drowned without thinking of anything else until this was done. Erasinides, on the other hand, wanted the entire fleet to immediately move to Mytilene; Thrasyllus said they had enough ships to do both at the same time. Thus it was agreed that each general should detach three ships from his division to form a squadron of forty-eight ships under Thrasybulus and Theramenes. In making these statements, the generals produced pilots and others, men who were actually in the battle, as witnesses for general corroboration.
So here, in this debate before the Assembly, two new important points have been publicly raised. First, Theramenes and Thrasybulos condemned the generals as guilty of the death of these abandoned men; The generals then confirmed that they had delegated the duty to Theramenes and Thrasybulus themselves. If the latter were really true, how come the generals didn't say anything about it in the official dispatch they sent home first? Euryptolemus, a lawyer for the generals, spoke at a later stage of the trial, though we can hardly doubt that the same matters were pressed at this assembly too, while he blamed the generals for such an omission, imputing it to misguided good nature. . on his part, and the unwillingness to bring Theramenes and Thrasybulus under the displeasure of the people. Most generals, he said, were inclined to mention the fact in their official dispatch, but were prevented by Pericles and Diomedon; an unfortunate warning, in his opinion, which Theramenes and Thrasybulos responded with ingratitude, turning and accusing them all.
This remarkable statement by Euryptolemos as to the intention of the generals in formulating the official dispatch leads us to consider what actually happened between them, on the one hand, and Theramenes and Thrasybulos, on the other; which is hard to see clearly, but which represents Diodorus in a very different way from Xenophon. Diodorus asserts that the generals were prevented partly by the storm, partly by weariness, and the reluctance and restlessness of their own sailors, from taking steps to collect the corpses for what he calls burial; that they suspected that Theramenes and Thrasybulus, who had gone to Athens before them, wanted to accuse them before the people, and that they therefore sent the suggestion to the people that they had given special orders to these two trierarchs to do their duty. When these letters were read in public assembly, Diodorus says, the Athenians were very indignant against Theramenes; who, however, defended himself effectively and fully, shifting the blame to the generals. He was forced, against his own will and in self-defence, to become attorney general, taking with him his many friends and supporters in Athens. And so the generals, trying to ruin Theramenes, finally doomed themselves.
This is Diodorus' narrative, in which it is implied that the generals Theramenes and Thrasybulus never gave special orders, but later falsely claimed that they did so in order to discredit Theramenes' accusation against himself. This agrees to some extent with what Theramenes himself declared in his defense before the Thirty-two years later, that he was not the first to accuse the generals; they were the first to accuse him; Confirmation that he was summoned to do his duty and that there was not sufficient reason to prevent him; it was they who clearly declared the fulfillment of duty possible, while he had said from the outset that the violence of the storm was so great that even movement in the water was forbidden; much more to prevent the rescue of the drowned.
Taking the accounts of Xenophon and Diodorus together, in combination with the subsequent prosecution and defense of Theramenes in the age of the Thirty, and blending them together so as to reject as little as possible of both, I think it likely that the order to the generals Theramenes, Thrasybulos and other trierarchs really gave to bring exposed men; but that, in principle, a fatal pause might elapse between the end of the battle and the issuing of such an order; so that the forty-eight triremes mentioned for the service, and proposed to be furnished by designs of three from each general's division, were probably never assembled; or, when they met, so indifferent in business that they were easily persuaded that the storm was too dangerous to weather, and that it was already too late. For if we read the version of the transaction, even as given by Euryptolemus, we clearly see that none of the generals, except Diomedon, was zealous in performing the task. It is a memorable fact that none of the eight generals personally took charge of the business, although their purpose was to save more than a thousand drowning comrades from death. In a procedure where every pause of even five minutes was valuable, they will work in the most tentative way, ordering each general to supply three ships and no more than his division. We now know from Xenophon's testimony that, at the end of the battle, the ships on both sides were widely dispersed. Therefore, such collective direction would not be carried out quickly; Theramenes would also not feel compelled to go to his protective plague until the eight factions came together, along with the Samians and others, to complete strength. He evidently did not like the service, as we see most generals; at the same time, the crews that had just disembarked after a victory thought above all about rest, lunch and mutual congratulations. Everyone was happy to find an excuse to stay in their bunks instead of heading back to the buffet in undoubtedly unfavorable weather. Partly from this lack of zeal, which added to the original delay, and partly from bad weather, the service was not carried out, and the sailors aboard the damaged ships perished without help.
But the thorny but inevitable question soon arose: "How are we to explain the omission of this sacred duty in our official dispatch to the Athenian people?" Here the generals disagreed, as expressed by Euryptolemus: Pericles and Diomedon objected to the judgment of their colleagues. that in the official dispatch, which must necessarily be agreed upon by all, nothing should be said about the delegation to Theramenes and others; every omission relates to the terrors of the storm. But though that was the tenor of the official report, nothing prevented the generals from writing home and communicating individually with their friends in Athens, as each saw fit; and in these unofficial communications, both theirs and others who returned home from the armed forces - communications no less effective than the official telegram in setting the tone for the public mood in Athens - veiled their conviction that not dereliction of duty belonged to Theramenes. So, having a man like Theramenes to blame, they made no effort to keep the story of the unendurable storm, but indicated that nothing would stop him from doing his duty if he wanted to. This is what he accuses them of having brought against him to bring him before the Athenian public as guilty: this is what, in retaliation and in self-defence, led him to denounce them as the really guilty, violent and senseless people. scruples. Just as they had minimized this supposed tempest by blaming him, so in his complaints against them he again minimized it and treated it as an inadequate excuse; anxious to make good use of his official telegram, the silence of which practically relieved him of all concern on the subject.
This is how I imagine the relations between the generals on the one hand and Theramenes on the other, based on what is said in both Xenophon and Diodorus. But the comparative account of guilt and accusations between these two parties is not the most important feature of the case. The really serious issue is the intensity or immediate occurrence of the storm. Was it really so fast and so dangerous that the duty to visit the wreck could not be fulfilled before the ships returned to Arginusae or after? If we take the circumstances of the case, and apply them to the habits and sentiments of the English navy, if we suppose that more than a thousand sailors, dead companions of victory, divided among twenty damaged and helpless hulls, are waiting for the moment when these hulks, and all of them, have been sent into a damp grave, indeed it must have been a dreadful tempest, which would even compel an English admiral to return to his moorings, leaving those men thus unprotected, or which would prevent him if he went to his moorings by sending the nearest and first boats to rescue them. And if anyone admitted that the danger was so great that he hesitated to give the order, there would probably be officers and men who, against the most desperate risks, would volunteer for a cause that moved all their best sympathizers. Now, unfortunately for the character of the Athenian generals, officers, and men at Arginusae - as the blame rests, though unevenly, on them all - there is strong conjectural evidence here that the storm on that occasion was not as it was. dissuaded any Greek. sailor animated by a solemn and courageous sense of duty. We need only point out the conduct and flight of Eteonicus and the Peloponnesian fleet from Mytilene to Chios; I remember that Mytilene was separated from the headland of Kane on the Asiatic mainland and from the islands of Arginusae by a channel only one hundred and twenty stadia wide, about fourteen English miles. Eteonicus, informed of the defeat of the official Peloponnesian signal ship, demanded that ship set sail and return with falsely misleading reports that the Peloponnesians had won a complete victory: he then instructed his sailors to leave immediately after dinner. , and the captains of merchant ships silently to bring their cargoes on board, and also to set sail. The whole fleet, both triremes and merchant ships, thus left the port of Mytilene and made straight for Chios, where they arrived safely; Merchant ships carried their sails and had what Xenophon calls "a fair wind". It is now almost impossible that all this could have happened if during that time an intolerable storm had blown between Mytilene and Arginusae. If the weather allowed Aethonicus and his entire fleet to cross safely from Mytilene to Chios, it was no legitimate obstacle that could prevent any generous Athenian sailor, let alone a responsible officer, from rescuing his stranded comrades. Arginusae. . And even less, should he have stopped the attempt to save her, even if the attempt was unsuccessful. And here the gravity of the sin is to have remained inactive while the brave were drowning in shipwreck. Again, all these considerations assume that the fleet had already returned to their anchorages at Arginusae, discuss only how much was viable after that period, and leave intact the no less important question of why the drowned were not picked up before the fleet retreated. . .
I thought it opportune to review these reflections, indispensable for a just appreciation of that memorable event, so that the reader may understand the feelings of the Athenian assembly and public when the generals appeared before them and refuted the accusations of Theramenes and accusations against him. The meeting had in mind the grave and lamentable fact that several hundred brave sailors had been drowned in shipwrecks without the slightest effort to save them. Not only did they not have an indisputable and satisfactory justification for explaining this fact, they also lacked a simple, consistent and indisputable statement of fact. There were differences of opinion among the generals themselves, comparing their official and unofficial as well as current statements, and contradictions between them and Theramenes, for each had contested the gratification of the storm as justification for the negligence attributed to the other: it was impossible that the assembly should be content to absolve the generals in such a presentation of the case; Nor did they know how to distribute the blame between them and Theramenes. The families of the men left for dead would no doubt be in a state of intense resentment against one or the other, perhaps both. Under the circumstances, it could hardly have been an adequate defense; on the contrary, it must have been the apparent generosity of his behavior towards Theramenes, in formally rejecting any charges of negligence against him, despite the fact that he had made a vehement charge against them, that led to the result we read about in Xenophon. The generals' defense was favorably heard and seemed to triumph with the majority. Many of those present offered themselves as bail for the generals to be released from custody; but the debate had been so long - we see, therefore, that much must have been said - that it was now dark, so that no vote could be taken, as the raised hand could not be seen. Therefore, it was decided to postpone the whole decision to another meeting; but meanwhile the senate was to assemble, consider how the generals should be sentenced and tried, and make a proposal to the approaching assembly.
It happened that immediately after this first assembly, in the interval before the session of the Senate or the celebration of the second assembly, intervened the three days of the solemn annual feast called Apaturia; first days of October. This was the characteristic festival of the Ionian race; handed down from before the constitution of Cleisthenes and the ten new tribes, each containing so many demes, and gathering the plebeians in their primitive associations of family, gens, phratry, etc., the whole of which had originally formed the four Ionian tribes, now obsolete. Family ceremonies were held in apaturia; Marriages were registered, adoption certificates promulgated and authenticated, the names of young citizens were inscribed for the first time in the list of gentiles and phratries; Sacrifices were performed together at these family gatherings of Zeus Phratrius, Athena and other deities, accompanied by much joy and merriment. A celebration like this one, held every year, naturally raises questions of love interest in each of these small associations: “Who are those who were with us last year and are not here now? The absent ones, where are they? The deceased, where or how did they die? Now the crews of the twenty-five Athenian triremes lost at the Battle of Arginusae, at least all of them free men, were members of one such family association and were sorely missed on the occasion. In his case, the answer to the above question would be both melancholy and repulsive: "They fought like braves, and had their share of victory: their trireme was broken, disabled, and destroyed in battle: they were aboard that shipwreck." he left them to perish while his victorious generals and comrades made no effort to preserve them.” Hearing it about parents, siblings, and friends — and hearing it in the midst of a sympathetic family circle — was suited to stoke an agony of shame. , pain and anger. , United; an unbearable feeling that demanded satisfaction, even seemed to make it a duty, to punish those who let these brave comrades die. Many of the gentile unions, notwithstanding the generally festive and cheerful character of Apaturia, were so absorbed in this state of mind that they dressed themselves in black robes and shaved their heads in mourning, and so resolved to attend the next assembly to appease and appease the manes of their kin abandoned by every possible effort to induce revenge. the generals.
Xenophon, in his narrative, describes this outburst of emotion in Apaturia as false and artificial, and the mourners as a series of hired impostors sprung up by Theramenes' contrivances to destroy the generals, and art was necessary. The universal and automatic stimulants of intense human sympathy are so prominent here that it is not simply superfluous, but even misleading to seek the gold and machinations of a political instigator. Theramenes could do everything in his power to turn public discontent against the generals and prevent it from turning against him; it is also true that he did a lot to crush their defenses. So he may have had some influence in turning sentiment against them, but he may have had little or no influence in creating them. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that no artificial organ could have led the Athenian public to desecrate a feast like Apaturia with all the trappings of mourning. If they did, it could only have been because of some spontaneous and intense inner emotion which the late event was intended to awaken.
Furthermore, what could be more improbable than the allegation that a large number of men were hired to pose as the fathers or brothers of deceased Athenian citizens, all of whom were well known to their actual surviving relatives? What is more improbable than the story that many men were hired not only to wear black clothes during the day which could be discarded at night, but also to shave their heads, thus branding themselves with indelible evidence of fraud until the hair come back to life? stop being a child? That a cunning man like Theramenes should distribute his bribes to several people, all presenting their uncovered heads testifying their guilt if the royal kin survived, to prove the person's fact? After he had done this, he was never accused or accused again, not even during the tremendous emotional reaction that took place after the condemnation of the generals, of which Xenophon himself so vehemently testifies, and which hit Callixenus and others hard, nor for his staunch enemy of Critias under the rule of the Thirty? Not only is Theramenes never mentioned as a defendant afterwards, but despite what happens, he maintained his influence and political standing with little to no diminishment. This is one compelling reason among many others, the bribes and penetrating machinations which Xenophon presents to him for obtaining the generals' convictions. His speech at the first public meeting and the vote of his numerous supporters at the second undoubtedly contributed much to this result, and it was of his own free will. But to attribute the overwhelming and violent emotion of the Athenian public to his bribes and intrigues is, in my opinion, an unnatural and absurd assumption both for her and for him.
When the Senate met after the Apaturia, to discharge the duty entrusted to it by the last public assembly, to determine how the generals should be tried, and to submit their opinions to the consideration of the next assembly, the senator Calixenus, in Auf According to Theramenes, if Xenophon is to be believed, the following resolution was proposed and passed by a majority of the Senate: "The people of Athens, having already heard both the accusation and the defense of the generals in the previous assembly, will immediately vote on the matter by the tribes. Two ballot boxes will be placed for each tribe, and the herald of each tribe will exclaim: at the polls, all who think differently, close the rear. If the generals are found guilty by the result of the vote, they will be handed over to the eleven and punished with death; their property is confiscated, the tenth part given to the goddess Athena A single vote had to include the downfall of all eight generals.
The unheard-of manifestation of pain and revenge on the Feast of Apaturia, which spread by contagion from the relatives of the deceased to many other citizens, and the probability thus created that the next assembly would sanction the most severe measures taken against the generals, he was probably rooting for by Callixenus. he proposed this deplorable decree and got the Senate to accept it. As soon as the assembly had gathered, Calixenus himself read it and moved it, as if he had come from the Senate to carry out the task that the people had entrusted to them.
He was heard by much of the congregation with well-deserved indignation. Its enormity consisted in breaking with the established constitutional maxims and legal practices of Athenian democracy. He deprived the accused generals of any fair trial; with only a semblance of truth, little better than sheer falsehood, he asserted that both his defense and his accusation had been heard at the previous assembly. Now there never was a people, ancient or modern, in whose opinion the formalities of judicial proceedings were customarily more sacred and indispensable than in the opinion of the Athenians; Formalities, including notifying the defendant in advance, with a reasonable and sufficient period for him to defend himself against the dis-castas; whereas these dictates were men previously sworn as a body, but selected by lot for each occasion as individuals. Generals would now be excluded from all these guarantees; and submitted for their life, honor, and fortune to a simple vote of the unsworn public assembly, without hearing a defence. That wasn't all. A single vote had to be cast to convict or absolutize the eight generals together. Now there was in the Attic judicial process a rule called canonical psephism, originally adopted, we know not when, at the suggestion of a citizen of that name, as a psephism or decree for a particular case, but which has since become common. and generalized to a prescribed bow which steadfastly forbade any trial or class judgment, and directed that, in all cases, a separate judicial vote should be taken for or against each accused party. Here the sephism of the canon was shamelessly trampled underfoot, along with every other respected maxim of Athenian criminal justice.
As soon as the resolution was read in public assembly, Euryptolemus, a close friend of the generals, denounced it as flagrantly illegal and unconstitutional, and filed a bill of impeachment against Callixenus under Graphs Paranomon for proposing a resolution to that effect. Several other citizens supported the prosecution which, in line with Athens practice, would have delayed progress on the measure until its applicant's trial had been completed. Furthermore, no proposal was ever made in Athens to which the Graphe Paranomon more strictly and fairly applied.
But Calixeno's many supporters, especially the men who were present in mourning, with their heads shaved, touched by sad memories and revenge, were unwilling to respect this constitutional impediment to discussion of what had already happened in the Senate. They roared aloud "that it was intolerable to see a small gathering of citizens thus preventing the assembled people from doing what they wished": and one of them, Lyciscus, went so far as to threaten those who had made the accusation. to be judged by the same vote as the generals, unless they allowed the assembly to proceed to consider and decide on the motion read. The excited mood of the large company thus assembled, further inflamed by this threat of Lyciscus, was carried to its highest point by several other speakers; especially by someone who stepped forward and said:
"Athenians! I myself was a man defeated in battle; I only escaped when I found an empty food tub; but my comrades, who perished in shipwrecks near me, implored me, if I myself should be saved, that it might be known to the people that their generals left to die warriors who fought valiantly for their country. Even in the calmest state of public opinion, such a communication of the last words of these drowning women, as related by an auditory witness, would have been heard with emotion; but under the really predisposing excitement, reached to the depths of the listener's soul, and characterized the generals as men condemned to death, Euryptolemus was forced to withdraw his charge against Callixenus.
Now, however, a new form of opposition arose which still prevented the proposal from being appreciated by the assembly. Some of the pritans or senators of the presiding tribe, this time from the tribe of Antioch, the legitimate presidents of the assembly, refused to discuss or raise the question; which, being illegal and unconstitutional, not only aroused their displeasure, but made them personally liable to prosecution. Callixenus used against them the same threats that Lyciscus had made against Euryptolemus: he threatened, amid the applause of many in the assembly, to include them in the same office as the generals. So intimidated were the prytans by the assembly's furious declarations that all but one gave up their resistance and agreed to ask the question. The stubborn Prytanis, whose refusal no threat could quell, was a man whose name we read with particular interest, and whose unswerving adherence to law and duty was but one of many other honorifics. It was the philosopher Socrates; on this difficult occasion, once in seventy years of life, to hold a political office from among the fifty senators chosen by lot from the tribe of Antioch. Socrates would not be persuaded to withdraw his protest, so the remaining Prytanes ended up asking the question without his consent. It should be noted that his opposition did not imply any opinion on the guilt or innocence of the generals, but only referred to the illegal and unconstitutional proposal that is now being made to determine their fate, a proposal to which he must have already contested in his capacity. . of the senate
After the constitutional obstacles were forcibly removed, the Prytans regularly raised the issue to the assembly. Immediately the thunderous cry ceased, and those who had uttered it resumed their behavior as Athenian citizens, patient listeners of speeches and opinions directly opposed to their own. Nothing deserves more attention than this change in behavior. Advocates for those who drowned in the shipwreck vowed to use all necessary force to overrule the indisputable constitutional claims that obstructed discussion. But once discussion began, care was taken that the resolution did not appear to be enforced by force. Euryptolemus, the personal friend of the generals, was authorized not only to propose a negative amendment to Callixenus's proposal, but also to elaborate it in a long speech given to us by Xenophon.
His speech is one of great skill and judgment in relation to the case before him and the mood of the congregation. Beginning with a light rebuke to his friends, the generals Pericles and Diomedon, for preventing their colleagues from mentioning the orders given to Theramenes in his first official letter, he pointed out that they were now in danger of becoming victims of the vile conspiracy to become vile. the latter and resorted to popular justice to give them a fair trial. He implored the people to take all the time to educate themselves before pronouncing so solemn and irrevocable a sentence; relying only on his own judgment, while ensuring that judgment must be made after full information and a fair hearing, thus avoiding the bitter and vain remorse which would otherwise surely follow. He proposed that the generals be tried individually, in accordance with Kannonus' sephism, with due notice and sufficient time for both the defense and the prosecution; but who, if found guilty, should suffer the heaviest and most disgraceful punishments, his own kinsman Pericles the former. This was the only way to defeat the guilty, save the innocent and save Athens from the ingratitude and impiety of condemning to death, without trial and against the law, generals who had just rendered such an important service. And what could people be afraid of? Were they afraid that the court's jurisdiction would disappear, that they were so eager to skip any delay required by law? They had given the worst traitor in the city, Aristarchus, a full day's trial, with all legal means in his defence: and would they now show such flagrant inconsistency in the face of victorious and loyal officers? “Be not (said he) the men that act thus, Athenians. The laws are your work; mainly through them you maintain your greatness: respect them and do not try to proceed without their consent”.
Euryptolemus then briefly recapped what happened after the battle, with the storm's ferocity preventing any approach to the wreckage; he added that one of the generals, now endangered, was on board a broken ship and only escaped by chance. He warmed to his own speech and concluded by reminding the Athenians of the glow of victory and telling them that, in justice, they should crown the conquerors' brows rather than follow those wicked advisers who called for their execution.
It is no small testament to the power of established habits of public discussion that the bereaved and shaven-headed men, who were minutes ago in a state of furious excitement, patiently listened with their strongest feelings to a speech so powerful and contradictory. like this one from Euryptolemus. Perhaps others have spoken too; but Xenophon does not mention them. It is noteworthy that he does not name Theramenes as a participant in this last debate.
The substantive change proposed by Euryptolemus was that, according to Kannon's psephism, generals should be judged individually; This means that everyone must be informed on judgment day and given full time to defend themselves. This proposal, like that of the Senate presented by Calixeno, was put to a vote in the Assembly; Hands are raised separately, first to one, then to the other. The Prytanes declared that the change should be made by Euryptolemus. But a citizen named Menekles denounced his decision as incorrect or invalid, citing what appeared to be an informality or trick in the questioning, or perhaps a misreporting of the comparative hand sign. We must remember that in this case the prytans declared themselves partisans. Feeling that they would allow so illegal a proposal as that of Calixenus, and that to accept it would be a great public calamity, they would have little scruples in preventing it themselves by some unfair manoeuvre. But the exception made by Menekles forced them to ask the question again, and so they had to declare a majority in favor of Calixenus' proposal.
This proposal materialized shortly after discarding the two ballot boxes for each tribe and collecting individual citizen votes. The sentencing vote prevailed, and thus all eight generals were found guilty; We would like to know whether with a large or small majority, but it is not said. The majority consisted primarily of those who acted with genuine grudge against the generals, but also included some considerable friends and supporters of Theramenes. The six generals then in Athens - Pericles (son of Aspasia's great statesman of the same name), Diomedon, Erasinides, Thrasyllus, Lysias and Aristocrates - were then handed over to the eleven and died with the usual drink of hemlock; their assets will be confiscated in accordance with the resolution of the Senate.
There can only be one opinion on the conviction of these unfortunates, which was handed down without any of the preventive criminal records recognized to the defendant. It was an act of violent violence and lawlessness that deeply dishonored the men who passed through it and the Athenian character in general. In any case, whether the generals are guilty or innocent, this censure is well deserved, for judicial precautions are no less important in dealing with the guilty than with the innocent. But it is deserved in an aggravated way when we consider that the men so wronged had just returned from a glorious victory. There is no reason to criticize the democratic constitution of Athens, nor the habits and feelings which this constitution was intended to inculcate in the individual citizen. Both the one and the other forbade the act in the strongest terms; nor would the Athenians ever have been so disgraced had they not revolted, in a momentary frenzy, not less against the forms of their own democracy than against the holiest limitations of their customary constitutional morality.
If we wanted proof of this, events in the immediate future would more than supply it. Before long, all the men of Athens were sincerely ashamed of the fact. A public assembly vote was passed that those who had deceived the people on that occasion should be tried, that Calixenus should stand among the people with four others, and that bail should be paid for his appearance. This was done and the parties were detained by the guarantors themselves, who were responsible for their appearance on the day of the hearing. But soon external misfortunes, as well as internal turmoil, began to put a lot of pressure on Athens to give way to other thoughts, as we will see in the next chapter. Calixenus and his accomplices found a way to escape before the day of judgment arrived, and they remained in exile until after the reign of the Thirty and the restoration of democracy. Callixenus then returned under general amnesty. But the general amnesty only protected him from judicial persecution, not from the hostile memory of the people. "Hated by all, he starved to death," says Xenophon; memorable proof of how much the democratic climate in Athens was shaken by the condemnation of these six generals.
What was the cause of this temporary outburst of injustice so foreign to the usual character of the city? Even under the strongest political provocation and against the most hated traitors - as Euryptolemus himself noted, citing the case of Aristarchus - the Athenians after the Four Hundred and after the Thirty never committed such a crime, never deprived a defendant of the usual legal proceedings. How did they get here, then, when the doomed generals were not only not traitors, but had just branded themselves with a victorious battle? No Theramenes could have produced this phenomenon; I don't think there is any deep oligarchic conspiracy to explain. The true explanation is different and of great importance. Political hatred, intense as it may be, has never been separated from democratic procedures in the mind of an Athenian citizen: but the men who appeared here as actors abandoned the obligations of citizenship and community and gave themselves body and soul to the condolences of the family. and does not like; Emotions which were first kindled, and rightly kindled, by the thought that their friends and kindred were left behind to perish unnoticed in the shipwreck; then, inflamed to a supernatural and overwhelming violence by the feast of Apaturia, where all the religious traditions linked to old family ties were detailed and detailed, all those associations that imposed on the relatives of a murdered person the duty of pursuing the murderer. reformed with its corresponding renewing solemnity. Mourning clothes and the shaving of the head - phenomena unknown in Athens, whether at a political meeting or a religious festival - were symbols of temporary transformation in the inner man. She could think of nothing but her drowned kin, along with the generals who left them for dead, and her own duty as a survivor to ensure her revenge and satisfaction for her abandonment. Under this impulse of self-justification, the shorter and safer procedure seemed better, however much political injustice might be involved; no, in this case it seemed to be the only really safe procedure, as the imposition of reasonable judicial delays, together with postponing the trial for consecutive days, according to Kannonus' psalmody, probably saved the lives of five out of six. He would have generals, if not six altogether. If we consider that so fascinating a humor was common among a large part of the Athenians of the same period, we will see the explanation of this mistaken vote of both the Senate and the Ekklesia, which sent the six generals to an illegal election and the subsequent election. , who condemned her. This is the natural behavior of someone who, after momentarily forgetting his sense of politics, is relegated to single parents. The familial affections which produce such gentle sympathy and mutual happiness in the inner circle also tend to inspire contempt, malice, sometimes even savage revenge towards others. Generally powerful for good, occasionally no less for evil; and demand, no less than selfish tendencies, constant submission to moral reason, which has the safety and happiness of all as its end. And when a man, whether of low civilization, has never known this great moral reason, or when he comes from an accidental stimulus, of just origin, but tempted to fanaticism by the conspiratorial power of religious and family sympathies, he comes to stake his pride... and virtue by relinquishing its superiority - scarcely any evil or injustice remains that cannot be seduced into blind obedience to narrow relational instincts. "These parents are capable of anything.' was Talleyrand's satirical commentary on the arduous public works so common in those seeking a place or promotion for their children. The same words, understood in a much more horrible sense and generalized to other cases of relationship, sum up the moral of this melancholy action in Athens.
Finally, it must never be forgotten that the generals themselves also played a key role in the case. Due to the movement's unwarranted anger against them, they perished as innocent people without trial."unheard of and helpless, that innocent perished"; but it does not follow that they were really innocent. I am convinced that neither with an Englishman, nor with a Frenchman, nor with an American fleet events such as occurred after the victory of Arginusae. Neither the Neither nor the Admiral nor the sailors, after a victory and driving off the enemy, could have swallowed the idea of returning to the anchorage, leaving their own wreckage unusable in the water, with many pilots alive on board, defenseless and dependent on outside help. they did this is confessed by their own advocate Euryptolemus, though they must have been well aware of the condition of ships disabled after a naval engagement, and some ships even of the victorious fleet certainly were If these generals, after their victory, instead of sailing back to shore, first take care to visit the damaged ships, there would be time and strength enough to fulfill that duty and rescue all the living men on board before they could. when the storm arrived. This is the natural conclusion, even after its own demonstration; Any English, French or American naval commander would have considered it an imperative. What degree of guilt is attributable to Theramenes, and the extent to which the generals were exonerated by the transfer of responsibility to him, is a point we cannot now determine. But the storm which used to justify so much is based on evidence too questionable to serve this purpose, when the dereliction of duty was so serious, and probably cost the lives of more than a thousand valiant men. At least the Athenian people at home, listening to the reproaches and recriminations between the generals on the one hand and Theramenes on the other - each in his role as accuser insinuating that the storm was not a valid obstacle, though each, if by The defense urged , turning to it as a pinch-hit resource: the Athenian people could not help seeing the storm as an afterthought to excuse past failures, rather than a dire reality that had sunk all the enthusiasm and determination of the people. duty to do Thus, it was Theramenes' intervention that contributed chiefly to the annihilation of the generals, not the maneuvers attributed to him in Xenophon: he shattered any belief in the storm as a real and all-encompassing obstacle. The general impression of the public in Athens - a natural and inevitable impression, I believe - was that there had been culpable neglect of the shipwrecks, from which the sailors on board perished. This neglect more or less dishonored the armor at Arginusae, as well as the generals: but the generals were responsible for the public at home, feeling the fate of the marooned sailors more just and generous than their comrades in the fleet.
In spite of the culpable trial to which a furious exaggeration of this sentiment led the Athenians, in spite of the sympathy which the condemned generals naturally and justly won, the judgment of unbiased history will express that the sentiment was well founded, and that the generals thought they were censured and deserved. shame. The Athenian people could justly proclaim to them, "Whatever the magnitude of their victory, we ourselves cannot rejoice in it, nor allow them to take any honor out of it, when we find that they have left many hundreds of helpers behind them. " drowning on board shipwrecks without making any effort to rescue them, when such an effort might have been successful".
CHAPTER 65
FROM THE BATTLE OF ARGINUSAE TO THE RESTORATION OF DEMOCRACY IN ATHENS AFTER THE EXPORT OF THE THIRTY.
The victory at Arginusae gave the Athenian fleet decisive control of the Asian seas for the time being; and he is even said to have so discouraged the Lacedaemonians, that he induced them to send overtures of peace to Athens. but this statement is open to many questions and I think it highly likely that such proposals have not been made. As great as the victory was, we looked in vain for positive results for Athens. After an unsuccessful attack on Chios, the victorious fleet proceeded to Samos, where it seems to have remained until the following year, making no more movement than was necessary to raise money.
Meanwhile, Eteonicus, who was mustering the remnants of the defeated Peloponnesian fleet at Chios without providing money from Cyrus, found himself in great distress and was forced to leave the sailors unpaid. During the late summer and autumn these men subsisted by wage labor on the Chian lands; but when winter came that source ceased, so that they could not even buy clothes or shoes. In such a state of disrepair, many of them joined a conspiracy to attack and plunder Chios Town; A day was set for the undertaking and it was agreed that the conspirators would meet carrying a straw or a reed. Eteonicus was informed about the project and at the same time intimidated by the number of straw bearers. he saw that if he dealt openly and allegedly with the conspirators, they might take up arms and plunder the city; in either case, a conflict would ensue in which many of the allies would be killed, with the worst repercussions for all future operations. So, resorting to a ruse, he took with him a guard of fifteen men armed with daggers and went through the city from the surgeon's house of Chio, instructing his guards to kill the man on the spot. A crowd gathered in amazement and sympathy, asking why the man had been killed; to which Eteonicus ordered his guards to reply that it was because he was carrying a straw. The news spread and immediately the remaining straw people were so alarmed that they threw their straws away.
Eteonicus took advantage of the alarm to demand money from the Chians as a condition for the removal of this dangerous and hungry armor. After receiving a month's salary from them, he immediately dispatched the troops, doing his best to encourage them and make them believe that he knew nothing of the latest conspiracy.
The Chians and other allies of Sparta were meeting at Ephesus for consultations and decided, together with Cyrus, to send envoys to Ephori with the request that Lysander be sent a second time as admiral. Spartan was not in the habit of sending the same man a second time as an admiral after a year of service. However, the ephors essentially complied with the request, sending Arakus as admiral, but Lysander with him, under the title of secretary, endowed with all royal powers of command.
Lysander, who conquered Ephesus early in the year B.C. 405, he immediately worked hard to renew the power of the Lacedaemonians and his own influence. The guerrillas in the various Allied cities, whose favor he assiduously cultivated during his last year of command, the factional clubs and associations he organized and encouraged in a partnership of mutual ambition, all hailed his return with jubilation. Scorned and oppressed by the generous patriotism of their predecessor Kallikratidas, they now took up new activities and were eager to help Lysander repair and expand his fleet. Nor was Cyrus less cordial in his affection than before. When Lysander arrived in Ephesus, he quickly visited him in Sardis and asked him to renew his financial aid. The young prince replied that all the funds he had received from Susa were already spent and much more; as evidence of this, he produced a specification of the sums placed at the disposal of each Peloponnesian officer. However, his affection for Lysander was so great that he even complied with the additional demand now made, to send him away happily. The latter was therefore able to return to Ephesus in a position to restore his fleet to effective condition. He immediately cleared all back wages from the sailors, raised new trierarchs, summoned Eteonicus with the fleet from Chios along with all other scattered squadrons, and ordered new triremes to immediately encamp at Antandrus.
In none of the Asiatic cities was the effect of Lysander's second coming felt more than in Miletus. He had a powerful faction or association of friends there who did their best to hinder and anger Kallikratidas when he arrived, but they were silenced and even forced to show zeal by the direct determination of this noble admiral. Eager to atone for this humiliation, they now formed a conspiracy, with Lysander's privacy and consent, to take over the government. They decided, if Plutarch and Diodorus can be attributed, to crush the existing democracy and establish an oligarchy in its place. But we cannot believe that there could be a democracy in Miletus which depended jointly on Sparta and the Persians for five years. Rather, we must understand the movement as a conflict between two oligarchic parties; Lysander's friends are more profoundly selfish and unpopular than their opponents, perhaps even calling them Democrats in comparison. Lysander agreed to the plan, stoking the ambitions of the formerly compromised conspirators and betraying the government into a false sense of security with promises of support he was never willing to keep. On the Feast of Dionysia, the armed conspirators captured forty of their main opponents in their homes and another three hundred in the marketplace; while the government, relying on the promises of Lysander, who moved to censure but continued to secretly incite the insurgents, offered only feeble resistance. The three hundred and forty chieftains thus captured, probably men who had wholeheartedly followed Kalikratidas, were slain; and an even greater number of citizens, no less than a thousand, fled into exile, after which Miletus passed entirely into the hands of Lysander's friends and supporters.
Partisan movements in other cities, less repulsive in bloodshed and treachery, but similar in character to those at Miletus, seem to have marked Lysander's reappearance in Asia; he placed cities more and more in the hands of his supporters. As Lysander thus gained greater prominence among the allies, he received a summons from Cyrus to visit him in Sardis. The young prince had just been sent to Media to visit his elderly and seriously ill father Darius. On the point of leaving for this purpose, he placed his confidence in Lysander to the point of entrusting him with the administration of his satrapy and all its revenues. Apart from his admiration for the superior energy and skill of the Greek character, he has only recently become acquainted with it; and besides his appreciation of Lysander's personal generosity, which had been attested by the latter's conduct on the first visit and feast at Sardis; Cyrus was probably driven to this step by fear that he would equal himself by entrusting the same power to a great Persian. While giving all his tributes and reserved funds to Lysander, he assured him of his abiding friendship both with him and with the Lacedaemonians; and concluded by requesting that under no circumstances should he engage in general action with the Athenians unless he had a great numerical advantage. After the defeat of Arginusae reinforced his fondness for this vacillating policy, he promised that not only the Persian treasures but also the Phoenician fleet would be actively used for the purpose of destroying Athens.
Thus, armed with unparalleled mastery of the Persian treasures and supported by rising factions in all the Allied cities, Lysander was more powerful than any Lacedaemonian commander since the start of the war. Since his fleet was well paid, he could keep it together and drive it where he wanted without having to disperse it into traveling squadrons to raise money. Probably, by a corresponding necessity, we must account for the inactivity of the Athenian fleet at Samos; for we know of no serious operations performed by her during the whole year after the victory of Arginusae, though under the command of an able and energetic man, Konon, together with Philocles and Adimantus; those of the spring of 405 BC. three more generals were added, Tydeus, Menander and Kephisodotus. It seems that Theramenes also resigned and chose one of the generals, but was rejected when he submitted to the verification test called Dokimasy. The fleet numbered one hundred and eighty triremes, a considerably larger number than Lysander's; to whom they offered battle in vain near his post at Ephesus. Finding it disinclined to general action, they seem to have dispersed to plunder Chios and various parts of the Asiatic coast; while Lysander, keeping his fleet together, sailed first to the south of Ephesus, invaded and plundered a semi-Hellenic city called Kedreiae in the Kerameikan Gulf, allied with Athens, and thence proceeded to Rhodes. He even had the audacity to make an excursion across the Aegean to the coasts of Aegina and Attica, where he had an interview with Agis, who came from Dekeleia to the sea coast. The Athenians were ready to follow him there when they learned that he had crossed the Aegean again, and shortly afterwards he appeared with his entire fleet at the Hellespont, the important pass they had left unguarded. Lysander went straight to Abydos, still the great Peloponnesian station on the straits, manned by a land force of Thorax as damage; and he immediately attacked the neighboring town of Lampsacus, which was taken by the storm, both by sea and by land. It was prosperous in all respects and abundantly supplied with bread and wine, so that the soldiers made a great deal of plunder; but Lysander left the free inhabitants intact.
The Athenian fleet appeared to be busy sacking Chios when it received word that the Lacedaemonian commander on the Hellespont was busy besieging Lampsacus. Whether due to lack of funds or some other reason we don't understand, Konon and his colleagues have been partly idle and partly late on Lysander all summer. Now they followed him to the Hellespont and sailed towards the coasts of Chios and Lesbos, away from the Asian coast, which was completely hostile to them. They reached Elaeus on the southern tip of the Chersonese with his mighty fleet of one hundred and eighty triremes, just in time to hear at his morning meal that Lysander was already lord of Lampsacus; so they immediately went up the straits to Sestos, and thence, pausing only to collect some provisions, they went up still further to a place called Aegospotami.
Aegospotami, or river Goat, an ominous name to all the Athenians who followed it, was a place which had nothing to recommend it, except that it lay directly opposite Lampsacus, separated by a strait of about a quarter of a mile. But it was an open beach, without a port, without a good anchorage, without houses or inhabitants or shops; so that everything necessary for that large army had to be brought from Sestos, which was about three-quarters of a mile away, even by land, and still more by sea, as it was necessary to go around a headland. Such a station was extremely inconvenient and dangerous for an old naval armament without an organized commissariat; since the sailors, who were forced to leave their ships to take their meals, could not easily assemble. However, this was the station chosen by the Athenian generals, with the sole aim of forcing Lysander to fight. But the Lacedaemonian admiral, in the good harbor of Lampsacus, with a well-equipped city at his back and a land force to work with, had no intention of accepting his enemies' challenge at their best moment. When the Athenians crossed the strait the next morning, they found all the litters fully manned (the men had already eaten breakfast) and arranged themselves in perfect battle formation, the land forces on land ready to render aid; but with strict orders to wait for an attack and not to advance. Not daring to attack him in such a position, but also unable to maneuver him all day, the Athenians finally had to return to Aegospotami. But Lysander ordered some swift ships to follow, and would not allow his own men to go ashore until he was certain that his sailors had dispersed ashore.
The same scene was repeated for four consecutive days; the Athenians are increasingly confident of their own superior strength and filled with contempt for the enemy's apparent cowardice. In vain Alcibiades, witnessing what was happening from his own private forts at Chersonese, rode to the station and reproached the generals for the exposed position of the fleet on that open shore; He strongly advised them to move to Sestos, where they would be close to their own supplies and safe from attack since Lysander was in Lampsacus, and where they could go out to fight whenever they wanted. But the Athenian generals, especially Tydeus and Menander, ignored his advice and even dismissed him with the insulting taunt that they were now in charge, not him. The Athenian sailors thus remained in their exposed position, becoming more and more careless of the enemy and reckless with each day they returned to their own shores. Finally, on the fifth day, Lysander ordered the scout ships he sent to observe the Athenians on their return, to raise a bright shield as a signal as soon as they sighted the ships in their berths and the crews ashore to see upon their return. . snack. The moment he saw this welcome sign, he ordered his entire fleet to row from Lampsacus to Aegospotami as quickly as possible, while Thorax marched down the beach with the land force in case of need. Nothing could be more complete or decisive than the surprise of the Athenian fleet. All the triremes were driven ashore at their berths, some completely deserted, others with one or at most two of the three rows of oarsmen that formed their complement. Of a total of one hundred and eighty, only twelve were found in tolerable order and preparation; Konon's own trireme, along with a squadron of seven under his immediate command, and the sacred ship called the Paralus, always manned by the elite of Athenian sailors, were among them. It was in vain that Konon, seeing Lysander's fleet approaching, tried his best to equip his fleet and provide it with some resistance. The attempt was desperate, and the most he could do was save himself with the small squadron of twelve, including the paralus. All of the remaining triremes, nearly one hundred and seventy in number, were captured by Lysander on the beach, helpless and seemingly without anyone's slightest attempt. resist. He landed and took most of the shore crew prisoner, although some of them fled and found refuge in neighboring forts. This impressive and unprecedented victory was won not only without the loss of a single ship, but almost without the loss of a single man.
Of the number of prisoners Lysander took,which must have been very large, as the total crew of 180 triremes was not less than 36,000 men, we know of only 3,000 or 4,000 native Athenians, although this number cannot represent the entire native Athenian fleet. The Athenian generals Philokles and Adeimantus were certainly taken, and apparently everyone except Konon. Part of the beaten armor took refuge in Sestos, which, however, surrendered to the victor with little resistance. He allowed them to surrender on condition that they immediately return to Athens and nowhere else, because he wished to increase as much as possible the number of people gathered in that city, knowing full well that the city would starve to death before then. Konon was also aware that returning to Athens after the sinking of the entire fleet would make him one of the safest prisoners in a doomed city, and, in addition, he would be met with the outrage of his fellow citizens, as well as the generals alike. Consequently, he decided to take refuge with Evagoras, prince of Salamis, on the island of Cyprus, and sent the Paralus with some others of the twelve fugitive triremes to bring the fatal news to Athens. But before going thither, he crossed the straits, with singular audacity under the circumstances, to Cape Abarnis, in the territory of Lampsacus, where the great sails of Lysander's triremes, which were always taken down when a trireme was ready for battle. , appeared to be unattended. She took these sails with her to lessen the enemy's power of pursuit, and then proceeded to Cyprus.
On the very day of the victory, Lysander sent the Milesian corsair Theopompus to Sparta to announce it, who arrived there with marvelous rowing speed and announced it on the third day after the start. The captured ships were towed away and the prisoners taken to Lampsacus, where a general meeting of the victorious allies was convened to determine how the prisoners should be treated. At that meeting, the Athenians were harshly reprimanded for the way they had lately treated their captives. The Athenian general Philokles, who had captured a Corinthian and Andrian trireme, killed the crews by wounding them head-on into an abyss. In Greek warfare, it was not difficult for either belligerent to establish precedents of cruelty against the other; but in this debate some speakers confirmed that the Athenians had considered what to do with their captives if they had won at Aegospotami; and that, chiefly at the request of Philokles, but notwithstanding the opposition of Adeimantus, they resolved to cut off the right hands of all the captives. Whatever opinion Philocles may have personally expressed, it is highly unlikely that the Athenians would have made such a decision. In this assembly of allies, however, beyond all that could be said with truth against Athens, the most extravagant falsehoods doubtless found ready faith. All the Athenian captives captured at Aegospotami, three or four thousand in number, were immediately slaughtered, with Philokles himself at the head. The latter, ridiculed by Lysander for his gruesome execution of the Corinthian and Andrian garrisons, disdained any reply, but, in garish robes, stood at the head of the prisoners to be executed. If Pausanias is to be believed, even the prisoners' bodies were left unburied.
Never was there a victory more complete in itself, more crushing in its consequences, or a more complete disgrace to the generals vanquished collectively than that of Aegospotami. It is doubtful that Lysander was really very glorious; for it was afterwards believed, not only in Athens, but apparently also in other parts of Greece, that the Athenian fleet was doomed for the treason of some of its own commanders. Konon and Philocles are freed from this suspicion. Adeimantus was named as the main traitor, and Tydeus along with him. Conon even preferred an accusation of this against Adimantus, probably by way of a letter written home from Cyprus, and perhaps by way of a formal statement made some years later when he returned to Athens victorious at the battle of Cnidus. The truth of the accusation cannot be conclusively proven, but all the circumstances of the battle make it likely, as does the fact that only Konon among all the generals was in a decent state of readiness. Indeed, we might add that the utter helplessness and indolence of the numerous Athenian fleets during the summer of 405 B.C. conspire to propose a similar explanation. Lysander, being lord of all of Cyrus' treasures, was unable to use any part of them more effectively than corrupting most of the six Athenian generals to nullify all of Konon's energy and skill.
The great defeat of Aegospotami occurred around September 405 BC. It was publicized at Piraeus by the Paralus, who arrived there at night directly from the Hellespont. There never was a moment of such anguish and agony in Athens. The terrible catastrophe in Sicily gradually became known to the people without an authorized reporter; but here was the official messenger, fresh from the scene, leaving no room to question the magnitude of the disaster or the irreparable ruin that loomed over the city. The wails and wails that began in Piraeus were conveyed to the city by the guards posted atop the Long Walls. “That night (says Xenophon) no one slept; not only from the pain of the past misfortune, but also from the terror of the future fate that now threatened them, in retaliation for what they themselves had done to the Egyptians, Melians, Skioneans, and others. After that night of misery they met in public the next day and resolved to make the best preparations for the siege, putting the walls in full defense and blockading two of the three harbors. Therefore, it was a humiliation for Athens to give up its naval action, pride and glory of the city since the Battle of Salamis, and to confine itself to a defensive attitude within its own walls, a humiliation that could not bear anything worse than a true hunger. and surrender. .
Lysander was in no hurry to reach Athens from the Hellespont. He knew that no barges of grain from the Euxine and few supplies from elsewhere could reach Athens; and that the power of the city to resist a blockade must necessarily be very limited; the more limited, the greater the number accumulated in it. Consequently, he allowed the surrendering Athenian garrisons to go only to Athens and nowhere else. His first action was to make himself lord of Chalcedon and Byzantium, where he created the Lacedaemonian Sthenelus with a garrison as a garrison. He then went to Lesbos, where he made similar arrangements in Mytilene and other cities. In them, as in the other cities now under his power, he formed an oligarchy of ten native citizens, whom he chose from among his boldest and most unscrupulous followers, and named Decarty or Decadarchy, to rule in common with the Lacedemonic Harmost. . Eteonicus was sent to the Thracian cities dependent on Athens to introduce similar changes. In Thassus, however, this change was marred by much bloodshed: there was a large company of Phil-Athenians who had Lysander brought from hiding to the temple of Heracles, under the false security of amnesty: when they assembled for this vow , all were executed. Bloody trials of a similar nature, many in the presence of Lysander himself, along with large-scale expulsions of citizens who revolted at his new decadence, everywhere signaled the replacement of Athens by Spartan supremacy. But nowhere, except on Samos, did the townspeople or the Philo-Athenian party in the cities openly continue hostility or violently resist Lysander's entry and revolutionary changes. In Samos they still resisted: the people were very afraid of this oligarchy, which they had defeated in the revolt of 412 BC. he had expelled to yield without further struggle. With this one restriction, all cities in the alliance or dependents of Athens submitted unopposed to both the supremacy and the subversive measures of the Lacedaemonian admiral.
The Athenian Empire was thus destroyed and Athens was left alone. What was no less grievous was, that all his clergymen, or foreigners, who had formerly settled in Aegina, Melos, and other parts of the islands, as well as in Chersonesos, were now stripped of their property and taken home. The leading Philatecians of Thassos, Byzantium and other dependent cities were also forced to leave their homes in a similar state of squalor and take refuge in Athens. Everything, then, contributed to aggravate the impoverishment and the multiple sufferings, physical and moral, within its walls. However, despite the pressures of the present calamity and the dim prospects for the future, the Athenians prepared as best they could for honorable resistance.
It was one of his first actions to restore harmony and everyone's interest in the defense of the city, removing any disadvantages that individual citizens might suffer. Thus Patrohemdes, having previously obtained special authorization from the people, without which it would be unconstitutional to propose the annulment of judicial sentences or the release of debtors regularly entered in the public registers, an edict which has never been seen since the The period in dispute was when Athens was in an equally desperate state during the advancing march of Xerxes. All State debtors, recent or former; all employees now under investigation by Logistae or about to be taken to the Dicastery with the usual after-charge accountability; all persons who publicly paid debts in installments or who provided guarantees for such credits; any person sentenced to total deprivation of the right to vote or to a specific deprivation or disability; including all those who, whether members or auxiliaries of the Four Hundred, were afterwards tried and sentenced to any of the following the aforementioned penalties, all these people were pardoned and released; any record of punishment or conviction will be destroyed. The exceptions to this general pardon were: those among the Four Hundred who fled Athens without passing judgment; those who have been condemned to exile or to death by the Areopagus or by any of the other courts constituted for culpable homicide or for an attack on public liberty. Not only was the public records of all convictions thus published destroyed destroyed, but any individual was forbidden, under severe penalties, to keep a copy or make any allusion to such mishaps.
In accordance with the broad amnesty and pardon accepted by the people in this decree on patrol clothing, all citizens of the Acropolis have taken a solemn vow of mutual harmony. The reconciliation thus initiated enabled them to bear their anxieties better; especially as the people who were released from the amnesty were not primarily politically disillusioned men like the exiles. Restoring the latter was a measure no one thought of; Indeed, a large part of them were and are in Dekeleia and supported the Lacedaemonians in their war against Athens. But even the most prudent internal measures could do little to help Athens with its main problem of providing sustenance for the large population within its walls, which grew every day with garrisons and citizens outside. The Dekeleian garrison has long since excluded it from Attica wares; he received nothing from Euboea, and, since the last defeat of Aegospotami, nothing from Euxinus, Thrace, or the islands. Perhaps more grain arrived from Cyprus, and what little navy was left did its best to supply Piraeus, despite Lysander's ban threats, before his arrival to effectively blockade it; but accumulating provisions for a siege was quite impossible.
Finally, around November 405 B.C. BC, Lysander arrived in the Saronic Gulf, having previously indicated to both Agis and the Lacedaemonians that he was approaching with a fleet of two hundred triremes. All the forces of Lacedaemon and the Peloponnese (all except the Algerians) marched into Attica under King Pausanias to meet him, and encamped in the district of Academus, before the gates of Athens; while Lysander, with his crushing fleet of one hundred and fifty sails, reached Aegina first; They then devastated Salamis and completely blockaded the port of Piraeus. It was one of his first actions to collect what remains he could find of the Eginetic and Melian populations that had expelled and destroyed Athens; and return to them the possession of their former islands.
Though all hope was gone, Athens' pride, determination, and desperation still allowed its citizens to resist; Even before some men started to starve, they came up with proposals to defend the peace. Even so, his proposals were not without dignity. They proposed to Agis to become an ally of Sparta and keep its complete walls and its fortified port of Piraeus. Agis forwarded the envoys to the ephors in Sparta, to whom he simultaneously conveyed an explanation of his proposals. But the ephors did not even deign to admit those sent to an interview, instead sending messengers to meet them in Sellasia, on the borders of Laconia, wanting them to come back and come back prepared with something more permissive and at the same time make them known. . . There would come a time when no proposal could be received that did not involve the demolition of the Long Walls for a continuous length of ten furlongs. With this somber reply, the envoys returned. With all the suffering in the city, the Senate and the people did not even want to think about such humiliating conditions. A senator named Archestratus, who recommended accepting them, was arrested and a general vote was taken on Cleophon's proposal, outlawing any such proposal in the future.
Such a vote shows the courageous patience of both the Senate and the people; but unfortunately it brought no better prospects, as the suffering within the walls continued to grow worse. Under these circumstances, Theramenes offered the people to go as an envoy to Lysander and Sparta, making sure that they were able to discern the true intention of the ephors towards Athens, if they really intended to exterminate the population and sell them into slavery. He also claimed personal influence, based on circumstances he could not disclose, which would likely warrant a mitigating fate. Therefore, he was simply sent to investigate and report, despite strong protests from the Areopagus Senate and others, but without express final authorization. We hear with astonishment that he stayed more than three months as the companion of Lysander, who, he says, kept him so long, and only after the fourth month had begun did he let him know that none but the ephors had the power to do so. . so give me peace. It seems that Theramenes' object was, by this long delay, to wear out the patience of the Athenians, and drive them into an unendurable state of suffering, that they would submit to whatever terms of peace would only bring supplies into the city. In this scheme he was wholly successful; and considering the privations of the people themselves at the time of their departure, it is not easy to understand how they could endure a prolonged and increasing famine for three more months.
We see little in particular about these last moments of imperial Athens. We find only heroic resistance displayed to the point that many starved to death without an offer to surrender under humiliating conditions. Amidst the general bitterness and bitter private antipathies which arose from such a state of misery, the leaders who were most distinguished by their persevering resistance, fell one by one in the pursuit of their enemies. The demagogue Kleophon was found guilty of conscientious objection and executed; the senate, whose temper and proceedings he had denounced, formed part of the dicastery which condemned him, both against the forms and against the spirit of Athenian jurisprudence. Such a procedure, though denounced by orators in later years as a contribution to the city's betrayal of the enemy, seems to bear no serious relation to the result, which was occasioned only by famine.
When Theramenes returned after his long absence, the pressure became so dire that he was sent again with orders to make peace under all conditions. Arriving in Sellasia and informing the ephors that he had come with unlimited peace powers, he was allowed to go to Sparta, where the Assembly of the Peloponnesian Confederation was convened to determine what terms of peace should be granted. The main allies, in particular the Corinthians and Thebans, recommended that no treaty or other action be taken with this hated enemy now in their possession. but that the name of Athena should be eradicated and the population sold into slavery. Many of the other allies supported the same views, which would probably have been the majority had it not been for the determined opposition of the Lacedaemonians themselves, who declared unequivocally that they would never agree to annihilate or enslave any city that surrendered such a capital. in the service of all Greece at the time of the great common peril of the Persians. Lysander further considered treating Athens in a way that would make Sparta, in addition to its allies, a growing dependency and instrument of power for Sparta. Thus, peace was granted on the following conditions: that the Long Walls and fortifications of Piraeus be destroyed; that the Athenians should evacuate all their foreign possessions and confine themselves to their own territory; that they must abandon all their warships; that they should resume all their exiles; that they should become Sparta's allies, follow her example both on sea and land, and recognize the same enemies and friends.
With this document, written according to Lacedaemonian practice in a celestial tale - or a scroll intended to revolve around a staff, of which the Lacedaemonian commander always had one, and the ephors consequently another - Theramenes returned to Athens. When he entered the city, a miserable crowd surrounded him, afraid that he might utterly fail in his mission. The dead and dying had become so numerous that peace was a blessing at any price; However, when he proclaimed in the assembly the terms he was the bearer of, and urged submission to the Lacedaemonians as the only way, there still remained a presumptuous minority who joined his protest, preferring hunger to this unendurable shame. However, the vast majority accepted them, acceptance having been communicated to Lisandro.
On the 16th day of the Attic month of Munychion, in the middle or end of March, this victorious general embarked at Piraeus, twenty-seven years, almost exactly, after that surprise at Plataea by the Thebans, who opened the Peloponnese to war. . With him came the Athenian exiles, several of whom seem to have served in his army and helped him with their advice. For the people of Athens at large, his entry was an immediate relief, despite the cruel humiliation or even political annihilation that accompanied it. At the very least, he spared the suffering and horrors of the famine and provided a decent burial for the many unfortunate victims who had already perished. The Lacedaemonians, both naval and military, under Lysander and Agis, continued to occupy Athens until the terms of peace were fulfilled. Lysander took all but twelve triremes from Piraeus, which he allowed the Athenians to keep: the ephors in his Scytale left it up to him how many they would allow. Unfinished ships in the shipyards were burned, and the arsenals themselves were ruined. However, the demolition of the Long Walls and fortifications of Piraeus took some time; and the Athenians were given a certain number of days within which it must be completed. At the beginning of the work the Lacedaemonians and their allies helped, with all the pride and joy of conquerors; between flute-playing women and crowned ballerinas; mixed with exclamations of joy from the Peloponnesian allies that this was the first day of Greek freedom. We do not know how many days were allowed for this humiliating duty imposed on Athenian hands to destroy the artistic, protective, and dominant works of their ancestors. But the agreement was not concluded within the stipulated period, so that the Athenians did not fulfill the terms to the letter, and thus, by severe interpretation, forfeited the right to the peace granted. However, the gap seems to have widened; probably in view of the fact that initially very little time had been allotted for the actual work, as well as the melancholy character of the work to be done.
It seems that Lysander, having attended the solemn ceremony for the beginning of the destruction of the walls, and having made such an advance that Athens was left without significant means of resistance, did not stay to finish the work, but withdrew with part of his fleet. to undertake the rest of the siege of Samos, leaving the rest to see that the imposed conditions are fulfilled. After enduring extreme misery for so long, the general populace undoubtedly thought of little more than alleviating famine and its attendant effects, unwilling to fight the dictates of their conquerors. If a few haughty men made an exception to the pervasive depression, and kept up courage for better times, there was at the same time a group of quite opposite characters, for whom Athena's state of despondency was a source of revenge for the past. joy for the present and ambitious projects for the future. These were in part the remnants of the faction that had founded the oligarchy of the Four Hundred and seven years before, and even more so the exiles, including various members of the Four Hundred who were now flocking from all sides. Many of them served for a long time in Dekeleia and were part of the forces blockading Athens. These exiles now revisited the Acropolis as conquerors, rejoicing in the full realization of that foreign occupation which many of them had sought seven years before, when they had built the fortress of Ectioneia to secure their own power. Although the conditions imposed immediately ended the imperial character, naval power, honor and independence of Athens, these men were as anxious as Lysander to see them all executed; because the survival of Athenian democracy was now entirely at his mercy, and because the establishment of oligarchies in the other subjugated cities clearly indicated what he would do in this great focus of the Greek democratic impulse.
Among these exiles were Aristodemus and Aristotle, both apparently important figures, the former having been one of the Helenotamiae, the first treasure of imperial democracy and the last active member of the Four Hundred; also Charicles, who was noted for his vehemence in the study of henna, and another man, of whom we now have detailed historical knowledge for the first time, Critias, son of Callaechrus. He was one of the people accused of participating in the mutilation of the Hermae and seems to have played an important role in the political, literary and philosophical world of Athens. All three evaluated him for his ability to honor him. Both his poetry, in the Solonian or moralizing style, and his eloquence, copies of which are still published from the august period, are of no ordinary merit. His fortune was large and his family was among the oldest and most respected in Athens: one of his ancestors had been a friend and companion of the lawgiver Solon. He was himself the maternal uncle of the philosopher Plato, and had frequented Socrates' company so often that his name became closely associated in public opinion with this remarkable man. We know neither the reason nor the date of his exile, except that he was not in exile immediately after the Revolution of the Four Hundred and that he was in exile at the time of the generals' condemnation after the Battle of Arginusae. He spent the time, or part of the time, of his exile in Thessaly, where he took an active part in the bloody feuds between the oligarchic factions of that lawless land. He is said to have taken what was considered a democratic side in Thessaly, along with a leader called or nicknamed Prometheus; He arms the penestae, or servants, against their masters. What the behavior and dispositions of Critias were before this period we cannot say; but now, returning from exile, he brought with him not only an immoderate and unprincipled lust for power, but also a bitter thirst for robbery and bloodshed,1 which surpassed even his ambition and ended up ruining both his party and himself. .
Of all these returnees, inspired by a mixture of revenge and ambition, Critias was definitely the protagonist, like Antiphon among the Four Hundred; partly because of his skill, partly because of the superior power with which he held the common opinion. By this time, he and his fellow exiles had become the most important figures in the city, as they enjoyed the most friendship and confidence of the conquerors. But the oligarchic party at home was by no means behind them, either in subservience or revolutionary fervor, and an understanding was soon reached between the two. Probably the old faction of the Four Hundred, although dejected, never became extinct: in any case, the heteros or political clubs that composed it still remained, ready for a new collaboration if a favorable moment arose; and the disaster at Aegospotami made it clear to everyone that that time could not be far off. Consequently, many, if not most, senators were willing to work to destroy democracy, anxious only to secure a place under the promised oligarchy; while the supple Theramenes, who had resumed his place as oligarchic leader and abused his mission as an envoy to wear out the patience of his starving countrymen, made arrangements with the exiles during his three-month absence in Lysander's tent for further proceedings. Once the city capitulated and the demolition work continued, the oligarchic party began to organize itself. Members of the political clubs reassembled and appointed a five-man administrative committee, called the Ephoren after the Lacedaemonians, to direct the general proceedings of the party; calling meetings when necessary, appointing deputy directors for the various tribes, and determining what proposals should be presented to the public meeting. Among these five ephors were Critias and Eratosthenes; probably also Theramenes.
But the oligarchic party, although so organized and on the rise, with a docile Senate and a dispirited people, and with a de facto sub-enemy in office, still did not consider itself powerful enough to carry out the envisaged changes without the more democratic leaders. determined. drink. Accordingly, a citizen named Theocritus, along with several other Democratic generals and taxi drivers, brought an indictment against General Strombicicides before the Senate; aided by the testimony of a slave or man of low birth named Agoratus. Although Nicias and several other citizens tried to persuade Agoratus to leave Athens, they provided him with means of escape and offered to leave Munychia to himself until the political state of Athens was in a more secure state, however he refused to budge. withdraw. the Senate and accused the generals of a conspiracy to destroy the peace; she herself presents herself as his accomplice. According to his information, given both before the senate and before an assembly in Munychia, the generals, taxi drivers and several other citizens, men of great valor and brave patriots, as well as Agoratus himself, were arrested for trial. a dicastery composed of two thousand members. One of those thus accused, Menestratus, was admitted to the public assembly at the suggestion of Hagnodorus, Critias's brother-in-law, and named several other accomplices, who were also promptly arrested.
Although the staunchest defenders of the democratic constitution were thus eliminated, Critias and Theramenes further ensured the success of their proposals by invoking the presence of Lysander of Samos. The demolition of the walls was completed, the main blocking army was disbanded, and the immediate pressures of famine were removed when an assembly was held to decide on future amendments to the constitution. A citizen named Drakontides requested the appointment of a 30-member council to write laws for the city's future government and administer public affairs on an interim basis until that task was completed. Among the thirty proposed persons prepared by Theramenes and the five ephors of the oligarchy, the most prominent names were those of Critias and Theramenes; also Dracontides himself, - Onomacles, one of the Four Hundred who escaped, - Aristotle and Charicles, both exiles recently returned, Eratosthenes and others unknown to us, but some of whom were probably exiles or members of the Four Hundred as well. Although this was a complete abrogation of the constitution, the conspirators were so conscious of their own strength that they did not find it necessary to propose the formal suspension of the graphe paranomon, as had been done before the establishment of the old oligarchy. Despite the arrest of the leaders and general intimidation, there was still a strong murmur of disgust in the assembly at Drakontides' request. But Theramenes rose to defy the murmur, and told the assembly that the proposal had many supporters, even among the commoners themselves, and that it also gained the approval of Lysander and the Lacedaemonians. This has just been confirmed by Lisandro himself, who personally addressed the assembly. He told them in a threatening and contemptuous tone that Athens was now at their mercy, since the walls had not been pulled down before the appointed day, and consequently the terms of the promised peace had been violated. He added that if they didn't follow Theramenes' recommendation, they would be forced to worry about their personal safety rather than their political status. After such a clear and devastating message, all resistance was in vain. All the dissenters left the meeting in sadness and indignation; while a remnant, insignificant in number and worthless in character, according to Lysias, remained to vote to accept the motion.
Seven years before, Theramenes, together with Antiphon and Phrynychus, had made a similar motion for the institution of the Four Hundred; blackmail into collusion through domestic terrorism and multiple assassinations. Now, along with Critias and the others, he was blotting out his country's constitution for the second time through the further humiliation of a foreign conqueror who dictated terms to the Athenian people gathered in his own Pnyx. After seeing the Thirty form up regularly, Lysander withdrew from Athens to end the siege of Samos still in effect. Blocked by land and sea, the Samians stubbornly defended themselves for a few more months, until the end of the summer. Nor did they capitulate to the end; Permission was obtained for all free men to depart safely, but with no possessions beyond a single article of clothing, and Lysander surrendered the city and possessions to the former inhabitants, i.e. to the oligarchy and its supporters, who had been partly expelled. . . partially disenfranchised, in the revolution of eight years ago. But he placed the government of Samos, as he had done the other cities, in the hands of one of his Decarchies or Oligarchies of Ten Samians, whom he himself chose; Thorax remained the most damaging as a Lacedaemonian and certainly a force beneath him.
The war thus ended and the last spark of resistance extinguished, Lysander returned to Sparta in triumph. Therefore, it was not for any Greek to impress with a triumph, either before or after. He brought all the triremes from the port of Piraeus, except twelve, which were left in concession to the Athenians; he brought the bow ornaments of all ships captured at Aegospotami and elsewhere; he was laden with crowns of gold which had been chosen for him by the several cities; and he also showed an amount of money not less than four hundred and seventy talents, the rest of the treasures which Cyrus had given him for the continuance of the war. That sum had been greater, but it is said to have been dwarfed by the treachery of Gylippus, to whose custody it had been entrusted, and who, through such vile speculations, had sullied the laurels which he had won so gloriously at Syracuse. It was not just triumphant testimonies of past exploits that graced this returning admiral. He also wielded a level of royal power greater than any Greek before or since. Imperial Sparta, as it now became, was personified, as it were, in Lysander, who was lord of almost all island cities, Asiatic and Thracian, through the Harmostes and the native Decadarchias, whom he named and chose from among yours. creatures. We will return to this state of affairs when we have followed the troubled history of the Thirty in Athens.
These thirty men - the parallel with the decarpies that Lysander had formed in the other cities - were destined for the same purpose of keeping the city in a state of humiliation and dependence on Lacedaemon and Lysander as representative of Lacedaemon. Although they were appointed with the ostensible intention of drafting a legal and constitutional system for Athens, they were in no hurry to assume this role. They appointed a new Senate composed of complacent, self-confident, oligarchic individuals; including many of the exiles who had previously been among the Four Hundred, and also many of the previous senators who were willing to serve his plans. They also appointed new magistrates and officials; a new eleven-member directorate to manage police and government affairs, with Satyrus, one of its most violent supporters, at its head; a council of ten to govern Piraeus; an archon to name the year, Pythodorus, and a second archon or king, Patrokles, to offer the customary sacrifices on behalf of the city. Thus securing their own superiority, and placing all power in the hands of the most violent partisans of the oligarchy, they began to profess reforming principles of the strictest virtue; denouncing the abuses of past democracy and announcing his determination to rid the city of evildoers. The philosopher Plato - then a young man of about twenty-four, undemocratic in politics, and a nephew of Critias - was first led astray, along with others, by these brilliant professions; he was hopeful and even encouraged by his relatives to play an active role under the new oligarchy. Although he soon realized how different his feelings were from hers, this honest desire undoubtedly helped a lot to strengthen his hands in the beginning.
In executing their plan to wipe out evildoers, the Thirty first took aim at some of the most obnoxious politicians of the old democracy; "Men (says Xenophon) whom everyone knew lived with slanderous accusations called servility, uttered in their hostility to oligarchic citizens." We cannot determine how honest or dishonest most of these men were in their past political conduct under democracy. But among them were the Strombicidas and other Democratic officials who had been arrested for information from Agoratus, men whose main crime was an ardent and uncompromising attachment to democracy. Those thus apprehended were brought before the new senate established by the Thirty, contrary to the vote of the people which had decreed that Strombiccidas and his companions should be tried by a dicastery of two thousand citizens. But the Dicastery, like all other democratic institutions, was abolished, and apart from the newly constituted Senate, no judicial body remained. Even in this senate, though composed of their own supporters, the Thirty chose not to entrust the trial of prisoners to the secret ballot known in Athens as essential to free and genuine expression. The Thirty were present at all the trials of the prisoners themselves in the Senate building, and they sat on the benches where the Pritans formerly sat: two tables were placed before them, one indicating condemnation, the other acquittal. and each senator had to place his stone face up before them, or on one or the other. It was not just a Senate verdict, but a Senate verdict under pressure and intimidation by the all-powerful Thirty. It seems likely that neither is a defensive appearance; defense witnesses were also not admitted; but even if such formalities were not wholly dispensed with, it is clear that there was no actual hearing and that the conviction was secured in advance. Among the great number of the Thirty brought to the Senate, not one was acquitted, except the spy Agoratus, who was tried along with Strombicidas and his companions as an accomplice, but released in reward for the information he gave against them. The testimony of Isocrates, Lisias and others —that the victims of the Treinta, even when they were brought before the Senate, were executed without justice— is authentic and credible: many were even executed by simple orders of the Treinta themselves, without the knowledge of the same. senate
As for the individuals who were tried first, whether we regard them, as Xenophon suggests, as notorious malefactors, or as innocent victims of reactionary revenge for the return of oligarchic exiles, as was certainly the case with Strombicidas and his accused officers, there was no need to all thirty being restricted by the Senate. That body itself participated in the feeling that dictated the sentence and acted as a voluntary instrument; while the Thirty themselves agreed, and Theramenes was even more zealous than Critias in these executions, to show his sincere distaste for the defunct democracy. Since all those convicted, rightly or wrongly, were decorated as politicians, all other citizens who were not prominently involved in politics, while disapproving of convictions, did not arouse the fear that the same would happen to them. Here, then, Theramenes, and with him part of the Thirty and the Senate, tended to stop. While they did enough to assuage their antipathies, with the death of the most detestable leaders of the democracy, they at the same time considered that oligarchic rule was firmly established and maintained that further bloodshed would only endanger its stability, sounding the alarm. , multiplying enemies and friends, as well as alienating neutrals.
But this was not the opinion of Kritias, nor of the Thirty generally, who saw their position with very different eyes than the fickle and cunning Theramenians, and who brought with them from exile a long residue of vengeance that had not yet been appeased. . . Critias was well aware that many Athenians were devoted to their democracy and had good reason to be; that the existing government had been imposed on them, and could only be maintained by force; that his friends were a small minority, unable to defend themselves against the mob that surrounded them, all armed; that there were still many formidable enemies to be disposed of, it was therefore imperative to invoke the aid of a permanent Lacedaemonian garrison in Athens as the sole condition not only of its stability as a government, but also of its personal safety. Despite the opposition of Theramenes, Aeschines and Aristotle, two of the Thirty, were sent to Sparta to seek Lysander's help; who provided for them a garrison of Lacedaemonians under the command of Calibius as a garrison, which they undertook to maintain, at no cost to Sparta, until their rule was confirmed, putting away the criminals. Calibius was not only made lord of the Acropolis, full of samples of Athenian glory, but he was so flattered and won over by the Thirty that he gave himself up to whatever was asked of him. Thus they had a Lacedaemonian force constantly under his command, together with an organized band of young satellites and assassins ready for any act of violence; and they proceeded to capture and kill many citizens so distinguished for their valor and patriotism that they were likely to serve as leaders of public discontent. Several of Athens' best men were slain one after another, while Thrasybulus, Anytus, and many others, fearing a similar fate, fled Attica, leaving their property to be confiscated and appropriated by the oligarchs; who, in their absence, issued a decree of exile against them, as well as against Alcibiades.
Theramenes vehemently opposed these successive acts of revenge and violence, both in the Council of Thirty and in the Senate. Those executed so far, he said, deserved to die because they were not only well-known politicians of the democracy, but also individuals with a marked hostility towards oligarchic men. But to inflict the same fate on others who showed no such animosity simply because they enjoyed influence under democracy would be unfair: "Even you and I (he reminded Kritias) have said and done many things for the sake of popularity." Critias replied: 'We cannot afford to be conscientious; we're stuck in a pattern of aggressive ambition, and we need to get rid of those who can best hold us back. Though we are thirty in number, and not one, our government is no less despotistic, and must be protected by the same zealous precautions. If you think otherwise, you must be really simpletons.” Such were the feelings that animated most of the Thirty, Kritias no less, and drove them to an endless series of confiscations and executions. who fell victims, but the brave, rich and noble men, in every political sense: even the oligarchic men, the best and most upright of this party, suffered the same fate. Among those who suffered most was Lycurgus, to whom one of the most important holy people in the state belonged: a wealthy man named Antiphon, who in the last years of the war devoted his fortune to public service with exemplary patriotism, and provided at his expense two fine triremes. equipped; Leon, from Salamis; and even Nikeratus, son of Nicias, who perished at Syracuse; a man who inherited from his father not only a large fortune, but also a notorious dislike of democratic politics, along with his uncle Eucrates, brother of Nicias himself. These were but a few of the many victims who were captured, found guilty by the Senate or the Thirty themselves, handed over to Satyr and the Elf, and sentenced to death with the customary drink of hemlock.
The circumstances of León's confiscation deserve special attention. In killing him and the other victims, the Thirty had several goals in mind, all aimed at stabilizing their rule. First, they got rid of well-known and esteemed citizens whose scorn they had earned and who they feared might turn public opinion against them. Second, the property of these wealthy victims was confiscated along with their persons and used to pay the satellites whose agency was essential to such acts of violence, notably Calibius and the Lacedaemonian hoplites of the Acropolis. But besides murder and plunder, the Thirty had another purpose, if possible even more nefarious. In order to arrest their victims, they not only employed the hands of these paid satellites, but also sent respected and respected citizens who, through threats and intimidation, compelled them to render their personal assistance in such a hated service. Through this participation, these citizens compromised and engaged in crime and became, as it were, public parties assenting to all the projects of the Thirty; subjected to the same general hatred as these and interested in maintaining the existing rule for their own safety. In keeping with their general plan to implicate the unwilling citizens in their crimes, the Thirty-Five sent the citizens to the Tholus, or government house, and, under dire threats, ordered them to cross over to Salamis and bring back Leon as a prisoner. Four out of five complied; the fifth was the philosopher Socrates, who refused all consent and returned to his own house, while the other four went to Salamis and took part in the conquest of Leo. Though he defied the full wrath of the Thirty, they evidently thought it wise to leave him intact. But the fact that he was singled out for such an atrocity - an old man of proven virtue, both privately and publicly, and intellectually authoritative, yet at the same time intellectually unpopular - shows how far they took their system of coercion against unwitting participants; while the further fact that he was the only one with the courage to refuse, among four others who yielded to intimidation, shows that the policy was largely successful. Socrates' relentless resistance on this occasion parallels his conduct as Prytanis in the public meeting held on the conduct of generals after the battle of Arginusae, described in the previous chapter, where Putten was stubbornly refused as he agreed to an illegal compromise. question. .
Naturally, such multiplied cases of executions and looting filled the city with surprise, indignation and terror. Groups of malcontents accumulated and exiles multiplied. All these circumstances furnished ample material for the fierce opposition of Theramenes, and tended to swell his party: not among the Thirty themselves, but to some extent in the Senate, and still more in the citizen body. He warned his colleagues that they faced an increasing amount of public disturbances every day and that their government could not exist unless it was associated with a good number of citizens with an interest in its maintenance. He proposed that all those who by virtue of their wealth can serve the State on horseback or in heavy armor, should be made citizens; all the poorest free, a much larger number, still underprivileged. Critias and the Thirty rejected this proposal; doubtless convinced - as the Four Hundred and Seventh had felt years before, when Theramenes had asked them to turn their fictitious total of five thousand into a real list of so many living persons - that "recording such a large number of members was equivalent to a real democracy." But, at the same time, they were not insensible to the correctness of his advice: moreover, they began to fear him personally, and to suspect that he was likely to take the lead in popular opposition against them, as he had done before against his family. Fellows Four Hundred They therefore decided to heed in part their recommendations, and therefore prepared a list of three thousand persons who should have the right to vote - selected, as far as possible, from among their own known supporters. and among oligarchic citizens. In addition to this corps, they also had the following of knights, who were among the wealthiest citizens in the state. These knights, or knights if we consider them as a class, the thousand good men of Athens, whose virtues are portrayed by Aristophanes in hostile antithesis to Cleon's supposedly demagogic vices, remained constant defenders of the Thirty throughout their monstrous careers. What privileges or functions were assigned to the chosen three thousand we do not know, except that they could not be condemned without the orders of the Senate, while any other Athenian could be executed by the simple order of the Thirty.
A group of partners thus chosen - not only from a fixed number, but also from selected oligarchic sentiments - was by no means the complement desired by Theramenes. Commenting on the folly of supposing that there was any magic in the number three thousand, as if it embodied all the merits of the city and nothing but merit, he admonished them that it was still not sufficient for their defence; its dominion was one of pure violence, but less powerful than that over which it was exercised. Once again, the Thirty acted on his warning, but in a very different way than he had imagined. They proclaimed to all hoplites in Athens a general meeting and a test of weapons. The three thousand were all lined up in arms in the marketplace; but the remaining hoplites dispersed into small scattered groups and in different localities. After the exhibition ended, these scattered companies went home to eat, leaving their weapons piled up at the various assembly stations. But the followers of the Thirty, warned and united, were sent in due time, together with the Lacedaemonian mercenaries, to seize the abandoned weapons deposited on the Acropolis in the care of Calibius. All the hoplites in Athens, except the Three Thousand and the remaining followers of the Thirty, were disarmed by this cunning maneuver, despite Theramenes' unsuccessful protests.
Kritias and his colleagues, now freed from any fear of Theramenes or any other internal resistance, unleashed their malevolence and rapacity more ruthlessly than ever before, killing many of their private enemies as well as many wealthy victims for the purpose of plunder. A list of suspects was drawn up, on which any of his followers could put the names he wanted, and from which the victims were generally drawn. Notable among the informants who thus named the destruction were Batrachus and Aeschylides. Critias' thirst for plunder and bloodshed only grew with the gratification; and not only to pay their hirelings, but also to enrich themselves separately, the Thirty extended far and wide their murderous agency, which now mowed down metics and commoners alike. Theognis and Peison, two of the Thirty, confirmed that many of these mestizos were hostile to the oligarchy, in addition to being wealthy men; and it was decreed that the merit of rulers should be reserved for the execution and plunder of any sacrifice that pleased him; Care was taken to include some poor people in the seizure so that the true purpose of the saboteurs could be easily concealed.
Executing this plan, the orator Lysias and his brother Polemarchus were arrested. They were both wealthy and nosy men, employed in a shield factory where one hundred and twenty slaves worked. Theognis and Peison, with a few others, kidnap Lysias from her home while having some friends over for dinner; and having turned away his guests, he left him in the keeping of Peison, while the attendants went to register and appropriate his precious slaves. Lysias tried to get Peison to accept a bribe and let him escape; which the latter promised at first, and having thus gained access to the prisoner's money-box, he seized upon the whole contents, which amounted to three or four talents. In vain Lysias begged a little for his needs; the only response he received was that he would be lucky if he survived. He was then taken to the house of a person named Damnippus, where Theognis was already tending to other prisoners. At Lysias' sincere request, Damnippus tried to persuade Theognis to approve his escape, considering it a large bribe; but during this conversation the prisoner took advantage of a moment of inattention to leave through the back door, which fortunately was open, and through two other doors through which he had to pass. After initially taking refuge at a friend's house in Piraeus, he sailed for Megara the following night. The less fortunate Polemarchus was caught in the street by Eratosthenes, one of the Thirty, and immediately arrested, where he was promptly administered the deadly hemlock without trial and without defence. While his house was plundered for a great treasure of gold, silver, furniture, and rich jewels; while the gold earrings were plucked from his wife's ears; and while seven hundred scudi were taken with one hundred and twenty slaves, together with the workshop and the two dwelling houses; the Thirty did not even allow the deceased a decent burial, but removed his body from prison on a rented stretcher, with blankets and a few paraphernalia provided by the sympathy of private friends.
Amidst such atrocities, which increased in number and turned more and more into shameful robberies, the party of Theramenes was gaining ground every day, even in the Senate; Many of them were useless in satisfying the private desires of the Thirty, and they began to grow weary of such a hateful system and to worry about the hordes of enemies they had amassed. In proposing the belated confiscation of metics, the Thirty demanded that Theramenes choose any one of these victims to destroy and loot for his own benefit. But he vehemently rejected the proposal, denouncing the enormity of the change with the indignant words it deserved. Such was the antipathy towards him of Critias and most of the Thirty, already exasperated by the effects of a long challenge, irritated by this refusal; so much did they fear the consequences of inflicting on themselves the shame of such measures, while Theramenes delighted in all the glory of defying them: so glad were they that their government could not bear such dissensions among its own members; They decided to destroy it at all costs. After courting as many senators as possible to convince them that Theramenes was conspiring against the oligarchy, they one day induced the most daring of their satellites to appear at the senate building near the fence that separated the senators. with daggers hidden under clothes. No sooner had Theramenes appeared than Kritias arose, and denounced him before the senate as an enemy of the state, in a speech which Xenophon makes at great length, and which is so full of instructive evidence of Greek political sentiment that I will here select the Summary of Points main:-
"If any of you senators imagine that more men die than the occasion warrants, consider that it happens everywhere in times of revolution, and that it is particularly so in the establishment of an oligarchy in Athens, the most populous city." It must be in Greece, where the population has long been accustomed to freedom. You know as well as we do that democracy is an intolerable government for both of us, and that it is incompatible with any firm adherence to our protectors, the Lacedaemonians." Under your auspices, we have established the present oligarchy, and to destroy as far as possible any man who is in his way, which becomes especially indispensable when such a man is found under our own body Here is the man, Theramenes, whom we now condemn as his enemy no less than ours. , for the difficulties he puts in our way. our way every time we want to eliminate one of the demagogues. If his policy had been like that from the beginning, he would certainly have been our enemy, but we could not rightly call him a villain. But he was he who first created the alliance that unites us with Sparta, who struck the first blow against democracy, who chiefly instigated us to kill the first group of defendants; and now to which you and we have incurred the people's open hatred, he steps back and fights with our actions to ensure his own safety and leaves the punishment to us. He must be treated not only as an enemy, but as a traitor, both to you and to us; a traitor in the grain, as he proves all his life. Although he enjoyed a place of honor in the democracy through his father Agnon, he was the first to subvert it and establish the Four Hundred; seeing this, he was the first to oppose them in the face of the troubled oligarchy at the head of the people; always ready for changes in any direction and a willing accomplice in executions that cause changes of government. It was he also who, having been ordered by the generals to bring the men from the sunken ships after the battle of Arginusae, and having failed in the task, accused and executed his superiors for losing their esteem. He earned his last name The Buskin, which fits any leg but is constant on none; He has proven to be ruthless in terms of both honor and friendship, heeding nothing but his own selfish advancement. and now it's up to us to protect ourselves from his doubles so that he doesn't pull the same trick on us. We present him to you as a conspirator and a traitor, both against you and us. Consider your own safety, not his. Rest assured, when you unleash it, it will provide a mighty boost to your worst enemies; If you judge him, you will destroy your best hopes, in and out of the city."
Theramenes was probably not totally unprepared for an attack like this. In any case, he rose to answer immediately:—
“First, senators, I will address the charge against me that Kritias last mentioned, the charge of indicting and executing the generals. I didn't start the accusation against them, they started it against me. They said they had given me a duty and I had neglected it; my defense was that the duty could not be performed because of the storm; the people believed me and exonerated me, but the generals were rightly condemned on their own charge of saying that duty might have been done when it had not been done. Indeed, I am not surprised that Critias told these lies against me; for at the time this affair took place he was exiled to Thessaly, engaged in establishing a democracy, and arming the penestae against their masters. God grant that nothing he did there can be done in Athens! I agree with Kritias that anyone who tries to reduce your rule and strengthen those who conspired against you deserves the severest punishment. But to whom is this rate most suitable? him or me? See the behavior of each of us and then judge for yourself. At first we were all unanimous in condemning the well-known and detestable demagogues. But when Kritias and his friends began to capture men of rank and dignity, I began to oppose them. He knew that capturing men like Leon, Nicias and Antiphon would make his enemies the best men in the city. I resisted execution by metics, knowing full well that this entire corps would be alienated. I opposed the disarming of citizens and the hiring of foreign guards. And when I saw that enemies at home and exiles abroad were gathering against you, I dissuaded you from expelling Thrasybulus and Anytus, leaving only competent leaders at the disposal of the exiles. Is the man who gives you this advice, and gives it openly, a traitor or not a true friend? It is you and your followers, Kritias, who through your murder and theft empower the government's enemies and betray your friends. Count on Thrasybulus and Anytus to be much happier with your policy than mine. You accuse me of betraying the Four Hundred; but I did not leave them until they themselves were about to hand over Athens to her enemies. You call me Buskin because you're trying to reconcile the two parts. But what should I call you that doesn't fit in any of them? Who was the most violent person-hater in democracy and who became as violent as the oligarchic merit-hater in oligarchy? I am and always have been a Kritias, an enemy of both extreme democracy and oligarchic tyranny. I wish to form our political community of those who can serve it on horseback and in heavy armor; I suggested this once and still stand by it. I am not on the side of democrats, nor of despots to the exclusion of worthy citizens. Prove that I am, now or ever, guilty of such a crime, and I will confess that I have deserved a shameful death."
This response by Theramenes was met with so much applause by the majority of the Senate that they showed their determination to acquit him. To the violent antipathies of the offended Critias, the idea of failure was intolerable; indeed, he had carried his hostility to the point where his enemy's acquittal would have been his own undoing. After exchanging a few words with the Thirty, he withdrew for a few moments, ordering the eleven with the armed satellites to huddle close to the railing that surrounded the senators, while the courtyard in front of the senate filled with mercenaries, hoplites. Force in hand, Kritias returned and addressed the Senate again: “Senators (said), I think it is the duty of a good president that his friends around him should be betrayed into not letting them follow their own advice. I am going now; in fact, these men, whom they see pressing us from the outside, are clearly telling us that they are not going to acquit anyone who is openly working for the overthrow of the oligarchy. It is an article of our new constitution that not one man of the three thousand elected shall be condemned without our vote; but that any man not included in this list may be condemned by the Thirty. I now undertake, with the agreement of all my colleagues, to remove this Theramenes from this list; and condemned him to death under our authority".
Though Theramenes was twice interested in overthrowing democracy, it was the custom of all Athenians to seek protection in constitutional forms which they probably felt safe under the favorable judgment of the Senate, an 11 which was unprepared for that monstrous and despotic judgment which he now heard from your enemy. He immediately leaped to the senatorial hearth, altar and shrine within the senate and exclaimed: “I too, senators, stand as your supplicants, begging only for justice. Don't let Critias beat me or any other man he chooses; let my judgment be pronounced, like yours, according to the law that these thirty prepared. I know very well that this altar will not serve to defend me; but I will at least make it clear that these men are as impious to gods as they are to men. As for you distinguished senators, I am surprised you are not acting for your own personal safety; for you must realize that your own names can be blotted out of the Three Thousand as easily as mine."
But the Senate, in spite of these moving words, which perhaps were not heard in their entirety, remained passive and stunned with fear, for it could not have been Critias' intention to let his enemy speak a second time. It is likely that, while Theramenes was still speaking, the herald's loud voice could be heard calling the eleven to come forward and stop him. The eleven advanced towards the Senate, led by their brutal chief, Satyr, and followed by their usual servants. They went directly to the altar, where Satyrus, helped by the servants, dragged him with all his strength, while Critias said to them: "We give you this Theramenes, who was condemned according to the law. Take him, take him to prison and do there what is necessary." Theramenes was then dragged from the Senate building and taken into custody across the market square, loudly protesting the cruel treatment he was being subjected to. "Shut up" (Satyr said to him) or you will suffer." "And if I keep my mouth shut," replied Theramenes, "must I not suffer for it too?"
He was taken to prison, where he was promptly given the usual injection of hemlock. After swallowing it, a drop remained at the bottom of the glass, which he threw on the floor (to the jolly jolly called Kottabus, who was supposed to give an omen by the sound he made when he fell, and then the person who had done it). . drank, handing the chalice to the next guest): "Let this (said) be for gentle Kritias."
The scene just described, which ends with the execution of Theramenes, is one of the most impressive and tragic scenes in ancient history; Despite its bleak and sparse form, it is narrated by Xenophon, who invested all of his interest in both speeches. The terrible injustice by which Theramenes perished, as well as the courage and self-control he displayed in the moment of danger, and his cheerfulness even in prison, equal to that of Socrates three years later, naturally win the warmest sympathy from the people. reader in your favor and tend to increase his positive character assessment. In the years immediately following the restoration of democracy, he was lauded and lamented as one of the first martyrs of oligarchic violence: later writers came to number him among Socrates' chosen disciples. But for that very reason, although Theramenes was the victim here of a man much worse than himself, it will not fit to give him our admiration, which in no way deserves its own channel. Critias' accusations against him, based on his conduct in the previous conspiracy of the Four Hundred, were essentially well founded. Having been one of the main creators of this conspiracy, he abandoned his companions as soon as he saw that it was likely to fail; and Kritias no doubt envisioned the fate of Antiphora, who had been condemned and executed on Theramenes' charge, along with a reasonable conviction that the latter would likewise turn against his colleagues, if circumstances dictated and encouraged it. this. . Nor was Critias wrong when, after the battle of Arginusae, he denounced Theramenes' disloyalty to the generals, in whose deaths he was partly instrumental, though only as an incidental cause and not to the extreme degree of nefarious cunning which Xenophon and others have attributed. to him. A selfish, cunning, and unbelieving man, willing to get involved in conspiracies without foreseeing their consequences, he broke faith to ruin the colleagues he first encouraged when he found them more consistent and meticulous in crime than himself.
Such wanton violence by Kritias and the majority of the Thirty, but perpetrated even against a member of his own junta through the intimidation of the Senate, left a feeling of revulsion and discord among his own supporters, on whom his support depended. recovered. Its immediate effect, however, was to make her apparently, and in her own opinion, more powerful than ever. All open manifestations of dissent were now silenced and pushed to the extreme limits of cruel and unbridled tyranny. They proclaimed that anyone not included in the list of three thousand must step outside the walls so that they could be undisturbed lords within the city, a policy formerly used by Periander of Corinth and other Greek despots. The numerous fugitives expelled by this order were distributed partly in Piraeus, partly in the various demos of Attica. However, in both the one and the other, they were seized by order of the Thirty and many of them murdered so that their possessions and lands could be appropriated by the Thirty themselves or by a privileged supporter. The denunciations of Batrachus, Aeschylides and other informers became more numerous than ever to secure the capture and execution of their particular enemies; and the oligarchy was ready to buy any new adherent, thus satisfying its dislike or greed. Later speakers confirmed that over 1,500 victims of the Thirty were executed without trial; Little value should be attached to this numerical estimate, but the sum was undoubtedly impressive. It was becoming increasingly clear that no one was safe in Attica; so that the Athenian emigrants, many in great poverty and want, multiplied in the neighboring areas: in Megara, Thebes, Oropus, Chalkis, Argos, etc. It was hot wherever these needy people could find shelter; for the Lacedaemonian government, urged on by the Thirty, issued an edict forbidding all members of their confederacy to harbor fugitive Athenians; an edict which these cities generously resisted, although the smaller Peloponnesian cities probably obeyed. No doubt this decree was obtained by Lysander while his influence was still undiminished.
But the Thirty did not just wage war against the lives, property, and liberties of Athenian citizens. They were no less anxious to destroy the city's intellectual power and culture; a project so perfectly in keeping with Spartan feeling and practice that it was supported by their foreign allies. Among the ordinances they issued was one which expressly forbade any person to "teach the art of speech," if I may literally translate the Greek expression, which had a wider meaning, denoting any intentional communication of logical, rhetorical, or argumentative improvement. . of literary criticism and composition—and mastery of the political and moral issues that formed the usual topic of discussion. This was the kind of instruction that Socrates and other sophists, each in his own way, passed on to Athenian youth. The great foreign and non-Athenian sophists such as Prodicus and Protagoras, though perhaps none of them were alive any longer, were certainly no longer in the city of Aegospotami under the dire circumstances which had weighed on all the citizens since the defeat. But there were many native teachers or sophists, inferior in merit to these illustrious names, who were still constantly engaged, with more or less success, in imparting a kind of instruction indispensable to every liberal Athenian. The Edict of the Thirty was, in fact, a general crackdown on the upper class of professors or professors above the rank of professor of elementary letters or grammarian. Could such an edict have remained in force for a generation, combined with the other Rules of the Thirty, the city from which Sophocles and Euripides had just died and where Plato and Isocrates were in vigorous old age, the former twenty-five, the latter twenty and nine years old, he would have been demoted to the intellectual level of the worst church in Greece. It was not uncommon for a Greek despot to suppress all meetings where young people assembled for the purpose of common spiritual or athletic training; as well as public banquets and clubs or societies as dangerous to their authority and tending to increase the value and consciousness of political rights among citizens.
The monstrosities of the Thirty had provoked violent statements from the philosopher Socrates, who spent his life discussing instructive topics with those young people who sought his company without accepting money from a student. These comments were given to Critias and Charicles, who telephoned him, reminded him of the prohibition law, and urged him to refrain from any further conversations with the youths. Socrates fulfilled this mandate by asking those who gave him, in his usual style of enigmatic scrutiny, a few questions designed to reveal the vagueness of the concepts; and to draw the line between what is permissible and what is prohibited, or rather to show that no definitive line can be drawn. But he soon discovered that his interrogations only evoked a feeling of revulsion and anger that threatened his own safety. The tyrants ended up repeating their ban in even stronger terms, signaling to Socrates that they would not ignore his rebuke.
Although our evidence does not allow us to determine the exact dates of these various suppressions of the Thirty, it seems likely that this prohibition of teaching was among their earlier edicts; at least considerably before the death of Theramenes and the general expulsion from the walls of all but the privileged three thousand. His rule lasted without armed resistance for about eight months after Lysander conquered Athens, i. h from about April to December 404 BC. Then the measure of his iniquity was fulfilled. They accumulated suffering and bitter enemies both in Attica and among the exiles in neighboring areas, while losing the favor of Thebes, Megara and Corinth, and the less enthusiastic support of Sparta.
During these eight important months, the general mood across Greece towards Athens and Sparta changed substantially. When the long war ended, fear, antipathy and revenge against Athens were the predominant feeling among Sparta's allies and rebellious members of the extinct Athenian empire; a mood that prevailed among them, indeed, more than among the Spartans themselves, who resisted and accepted the surrender of Athens at a time when many of their allies were pressing for tougher measures. They were driven to this decision partly by the lingering force of old sympathy; partly because of the hatred which would certainly follow the expulsion of the Athenian mob, but it might be mentioned beforehand as a fitting punishment; partly also because of the policy of Lysander, who wanted to keep Athens dependent on Sparta and on herself and by the same means as the other peripheral cities in which he had established his Decadarchies.
Once Athens was humiliated, stripped of its fleet and walled harbor, and rendered harmless, the great bond of common fear that bound the allies to Sparta disappeared; and while the overwhelming antipathy of these allies towards Athens gradually subsided, a feeling of jealousy and apprehension towards Sparta arose in its place among the leading states among them. There was more than one reason for this feeling. At the end of the war, Lysander brought home not only a large sum of money, but also valuable loot of other kinds and many captured triremes. As success had been achieved through the joint efforts of all the allies, the fruits belonged to all of them together, not just Sparta. The Thebans and Corinthians preferred a formal claim to participation; and if the other allies refrained from openly supporting the claim, we may presume that this was owing not to any different interpretation of the fairness of the case, but to fear of offending Sparta. In the deposition erected by Lysander at Delphi to commemorate the triumph, he included not only his own bronze statue, but also that of each commander of the Allied contingents; This formally allows allies to participate in honorable outcomes and also tacitly sanctions their right to profitable outcomes. However, the demand of the Thebans and Corinthians was not only refused, but felt almost as an insult; especially from Lysander, whose influence was nearly omnipotent at the time.
The fact that the Lacedaemonians withheld a portion of this money from the allies further demonstrates Lysander's great superiority; for there was a considerable body in Sparta itself, which on the whole protested against the taking of as much gold and silver as against the edicts of Lycurgus, and fatal to the peculiar morality of Sparta. An old Spartan, Skiraphidas or Phlogidas, took the lead in demanding the exclusive observance of ancient Spartan money, heavy iron, heavy to carry; Lysander and his friends also could not without difficulty admit the treasure to Sparta; with the special proviso that it is for the exclusive use of the government and that no private person ever circulates gold or silver. The existence of such traditional antipathy among the Spartans would probably have led them to be fair to their allies, as a fair distribution of treasure would have done much to remove the difficulty; however, they kept it all.
But beyond this specific insult to the allies, Sparta's behavior showed another way that she intended to turn the tide of victory of her own free will. Lysander was omnipotent at the time and was playing his own game under the name of Sparta. His position was much higher than that of the regent Pausanias after the victory at Plataea; and incomparably superior to his talents for exploiting the position. The magnitude of his accomplishments, as well as the excellent skills he displayed, deserved much praise; but in its lightness the praise was carried to the point of a kind of worship. altars were erected to him; Hymns or hymns were composed in honor of him; the Ephesians placed his statue in the temple of their goddess Artemis; and the Samians not only erected a statue of him at Olympia, but even changed the name of their great festival, Herea, to Lysandria. Several contemporary poets, Antilochus, Chaerilus, Nikeratus and Antimachus, dedicated themselves to singing its glories and benefiting from its rewards.
Such excess flattery was bound to turn the heads of even the most virtuous Greek: in Lysander it had the effect of replacing the supposed sweetness with which he took charge with an insulting harshness and arrogance to match the truly immeasurable ambition he cherished. His ambition led him to aggrandize Sparta one by one, without thought of their allies, to exercise dominion in his name. He had already established decades or ten oligarchies in many island cities and Asiatic cities, and an oligarchy of thirty in Athens; all were die-hard supporters, chosen by himself based on their support and dedicated to his goals. To the eyes of an impartial observer in Greece it appeared that all these cities had become dependencies of Sparta and should be kept in that state; under Spartan authority, exercised by and through Lysander. In the place of this general liberty, which had been promised as an incentive to rebellion against Athens, a Spartan empire was established in the place of the extinct Athenian, with a tribute of a thousand talents a year, to be assessed in the constituent cities. . and islands. At least that was Lysander's plan, though it was never fully executed.
It is easy to see that with such a frame of mind on the part of Sparta's allies, the monstrosities committed by the Thirty in Athens and by the Lysandrian Decarcas in the other cities would be heard with and without sympathy by those who suffer from so strong the anti-feeling that it lasted some years. months had already prevailed. But most importantly, even in Sparta itself, the measures and person Lysander began to resist. If the leaders of Sparta were jealous even of Brasidas, who offended them only on account of his success and unparalleled merit as a commander, much more would the same feeling be aroused against Lysander, who displayed an exaggerated insolence and was revered with demonstrative adulation, not inferior. to that of Pausanias after the Battle of Plataea. Another Pausanias, son of Pleistoanax, was now king of Sparta along with Agis. In him the feeling of jealousy towards Lysander was particularly felt, as was later the case with Agesilaus, successor of Agis; accompanied, probably, by the suspicion, justified by later events, that Lysander intended to usurp royal privileges. Nor is it unjust to suppose that Pausanias was moved by more patriotic motives than mere jealousy, and that the ravenous cruelty which everywhere dishonored the new oligarchies shook his best feelings, and filled him with anxiety for the stability of the system. Another circumstance that weakened Lysander's influence in Sparta was the annual change of ephors, which took place in late September or early October. In September 404 B.C. C. those ephors arose, under which his great success and the conquest of Athens was achieved, and who were wholly devoted to his views.
In the previous chapter, I pointed out how the end of the Peloponnesian War would have been much more honorable for Sparta and much less unhappy for Athens and the rest of Greece if Callicratidas had won the Battle of Arginusae and survived. only to later close it and secure that personal superiority which the victorious general would certainly exercise over the numerous rearrangements of peace. We see how important the personal character of the general thus placed was when we trace Lysander's events during the year following the Battle of Aegospotami. His personal opinions were the great determinant of all Greece; Regulation of Sparta's actions and the fate of conquered cities. Along the latter, greedy and cruel oligarchies were organized (ten in most cities, but thirty in Athens), all acting under Sparta's power and protection, but in true submission to her ambition. Being under the influence of a selfish desire for power, Sparta's measures were not only stripped of all Panhellenic sentiments, but also largely devoid of reference to its own allies and focused on gaining imperial supremacy for them. Now, if Kallikratidas had been the ascendant at this time, not only would these dreadful and narrow-minded impulses have been comparatively ineffective, but the leading state would have been led to set an example in recommending, organizing and, if necessary, enforcing the arrangements. in favor of the Panhellenic Fraternity. Kallikratidas would not only have refused to let the decades rule by their power and for their purposes in the subordinate cities, but would have rejected such conspiracies wherever they tended to arise spontaneously. No ruffian like Kritias, no cunning plotter like Theramenes would have counted on his help, for they claim Lysander's friendship. He would probably have left the government of each city to its own natural tendencies, whether oligarchic or democratic; He will only intervene in special cases of real and explicit need. Now, the influence of a nascent state, employed for such purposes, emphatically abandoning all private ends, to attain a stable Panhellenic feeling and fraternity; Also the fact that, at a time when so many Greek cities were in turmoil, new circumstances had to take a new political turn is an element whose force could hardly be anything but beneficial. We cannot presume to confirm in detail what degree of positive benefit a noble-minded victor could have produced under such special circumstances. But it would have been no small advantage to have prevented Greece from seeing and feeling such enormous powers in the hands of a man like Lysander; by whose administration the worst tendencies of an imperial city were eagerly magnified by the exaggeration of individual ambition. To him alone the Thirty in Athens and the Decaderchies elsewhere owe their existence and their means of oppression.
It was therefore necessary to explain the general changes that took place in Greece and in the Greek mood during the eight months that followed the capture of Athens in March 404 BC. in Athens and in the Athenian population both in Attica and in exile, about the beginning of December of the same year, at which period we have now arrived. We see how it happened that Thebes, Corinth, and Megara, who had been the bitterest enemies of the Athenians in March, now distanced themselves both from Sparta and from the Lysandrian Thirty, who regarded them as viceroys of Athens for separate Spartan benefit. We see how this was used to establish piety for the suffering exiles fleeing Attica; a feeling that was kindled more each day by the story of the endless atrocities committed by Kritias and his colleagues. We see at the same time how the Thirty, engaged in hostilities inside and outside Attica, at the same time lost the enthusiastic support of Sparta, owing to the waning influence of Lysander and the increasing resistance of their rivals at home.
Despite Sparta's formal ban, which was undoubtedly influenced by Lysander, Athenian émigrés found refuge in all the states bordering Attica. From Boeotia they struck the first blow. Trasybulus, Anytus and Archinus, coming from Thebes with the sympathy of the Theban public and with the substantial support of Ismenias and other wealthy citizens, at the head of a small group of exiles credited with thirty, sixty, seventy or a little more than a hundred men - conquered Phyle, a frontier fortress in the mountains north of Attica, on the direct path between Athens and Thebes. It probably had no garnish; for the Thirty, in the interests of the supremacy of the Lacedaemonians, overthrew all the outer fortresses of Attica; for Thrasybulos to reach his goal without resistance. The Thirty marched from Athens to attack him, at the head of a mighty force consisting of the Lacedaemonian hoplites who formed his guard, the Three Thousand Privileged Citizens, and a few Knights or Knights. Thrasybulus' small company was probably reinforced by the arrival of new exiles once it was known that he had occupied the fort. For when the Thirty arrived with their attacking force, he was able to repel a vigorous attack by the younger soldiers, with considerable casualties to the attackers.
Disappointed by this direct attack, the Thirty planned to blockade Phyle, where they knew there were no stores of supplies. But no sooner had they begun their operations than a blizzard fell, so heavy and violent that they were obliged to abandon their position and withdraw to Athens, leaving much of their baggage in the hands of Phyle's garrison. In the language of Thrasybulus, it was said that this storm was providential, since until the previous one the weather had been very good, and there was time to receive reinforcements, which reached seven hundred men. Although the climate was such that the Thirty would not keep their main force near Phyle, and perhaps the Three Thousand themselves were not strong enough to allow this, they sent their lace demons and two tribes of Athenian horsemen to restrict the Garrison's excursions. . Thrasybulus made a surprise attack on this body. Dismounting from Phyle at night, he halted a quarter of a mile from his position until just before dawn, when the night watch was just over and the grooms were making noise as they scrubbed the horses. At that moment, Phyle's hoplites attacked at full speed, catching everyone off guard and some even in their beds, scattering them without resistance. One hundred and twenty hoplites and a few knights were killed, while a large amount of weapons and supplies were captured and taken to Phyle in triumph. The news of the defeat quickly reached the city, where the remaining knights immediately came to the rescue, but they could do nothing more than protect the transport from the dead.
This successful engagement markedly changed the relative status of the parties in Attica; Encouraging the exiles as well as depressing the Thirty. Even among the latter's supporters in Athens, dissensions began to break out; The minority who sympathized with Theramenes, as well as the less committed part of the Three Thousand as complicit in the recent atrocities, began to waver in their allegiance so obviously that Kritias and his colleagues doubted their ability to stay in the city. . . They decided to protect Eleusis and the island of Salamis as safe places and resources, in case they were forced to evacuate Athens. They therefore went to Eleusis with a considerable number of Athenian cavalry, under the pretense of examining the strength of the place and the number of its defenders, to determine how much additional garrison was needed. All Eleusinians ready and qualified for armed service were ordered to appear in person and give their names to the Thirty in a building whose back wall faced the beach; where the knights and companions of Athena were stationed. Each Eleusian hoplite, after introducing himself and saying his name to the Thirty, was ordered to pass through this exit, where each man, in his turn, was held by the horsemen and bound by the attendants. Lysimachus the Hipparchus, or commander of the cavalry, was instructed to bring all these captives to Athens and place them under the care of the eleven. Having captured and taken from Eleusis any citizen whose spirit or energy they suspected, and leaving behind a force of their own followers, the Thirty returned to Athens. At the same time, it seems, some of them were carrying out a similar visit and capturing prisoners at Salamis. The next day, at Athens, they summoned all their three thousand privileged hoplites, together with all the remaining cavalry not employed at Eleusis or Salamis, to the Odeon, half garrisoned by the armed garrison of Lacedaemon. 'Gentlemen,' said Kritias to his countrymen, 'we run the government for your benefit no less than ours. Therefore, you must share with us the danger and honor of our position. Here these Eleusinian prisoners await trial; you must condemn them all to death, that their hopes and their fears may be like ours. He then pointed to a point immediately in front of him and instructed each man to place his stone of destruction there for all to see. I have already indicated that in Athens it was known that voting openly was the same as voting under duress; there was no security for genuine free suffrage unless it were secret and numerous. Critias was obeyed without reservation or exception; likely anyone who thought otherwise would have been executed on the spot. All the prisoners, apparently three hundred in number, were condemned by the same vote and immediately executed.
While this atrocity brought greater satisfaction and confidence to Kritias' more violent friends, it likely alienated greater numbers of others and weakened rather than strengthened the Thirty. We can hardly doubt that this contributed in part to the bold and determined decision taken by Thrasybulus, now five days after his last success, to march by night from Phyle to Piraeus. His strength, though somewhat increased, was still but a thousand men; wholly unsuitable for any great undertaking were it not for the positive support and association of new comrades, together with an even greater amount of negative support out of distaste for or indifference to the Thirty. Indeed, he was quickly joined by many sympathetic countrymen; but few of them were heavily armored since the general disarmament maneuvers of the oligarchs. Some had light shields and arrows, others were completely unarmed and could only serve as stone throwers. Piraeus was at that time an open city, stripped of its fortifications and those Long Walls which had linked it for so long with Athens. However, he had a large compass and required a greater force to defend it than Thrasybulus could muster. When the Thirty set out from Athens the next morning to attack it, with all his force of Athenian hoplites and horsemen, and also with the Lacedaemonian garrison, he tried in vain to prevent them from entering the great chariot road that led to Athens. Athens, Piraeus. He was forced to concentrate his forces in Munychia, the easternmost part of the aggregate called Piraeus, which is closest to the Bay of Phalerum and includes one of the three ports that once supported the naval power of Athens. Thrasybulus occupied the Temple of Artemis Munychia and the adjacent Bendideion, which lies in the middle of Munychia and is only accessible by a steep path. Behind his hoplites, whose ranks numbered ten men, were the javelins and slingers: the climb was so steep that the latter could hurl their projectiles over the heads of the hoplites in front of them. Shortly after, Critias and the Thirty, having assembled for the first time in the marketplace of Piraeus called the Hippodamian Agora, were seen approaching with their superior numbers; They climbed the hill in close file with hoplites from no less than fifty depths. Trasybulus, after a vigorous exhortation to his soldiers, reminding them of the wrongs they had to avenge, and explaining the advantages of their position, which exposed the narrow ranks of the enemy to the destructive effects of missiles, and forced them to crouch under their shields, unable to After resisting a spear attack, he waited patiently for them to gain some distance, and he took the lead with the Prophet, usually consulted before battle, at his side. The latter, a brave and devoted patriot, while promising victory, warned his comrades not to attack unless someone on his side was killed or wounded: at the same time, foretelling his own death in the conflict. When the troops of the Thirty had advanced far enough to scale the hill, the light-armed men in Thrasybulus' rear sent arrows over the heads of his own hoplites, with considerable effect. When they seemed to stagger, trying to cover themselves with their shields and thus not seeing far ahead, the Prophet, apparently in arms, set the example of advancing, being the first to approach the enemy and dying first. Thrasybulus followed with the main force of hoplites, advanced quickly down the hill, met after wise resistance, drove them off in disarray, losing seventy men. Of even greater importance were Critias and Hipmachus, leading their troops on the left, among the slain; along with Charmides, son of Glaucus, one of the ten oligarchs appointed to administer Piraeus. This great and important advantage left the troops of Thrasybulus in possession of seventy dead enemies, who were stripped of their weapons, but not their clothes, out of respect for their countrymen. Despite their numerical superiority, the hoplites of the Thirty were so dispirited, lukewarm, and divided that they called the customary truce for the burial of the dead. This, of course, was granted, and the two disputing parties became involved in fulfilling the funeral duties. Amidst so impressive a scene, their shared feelings as Athenians and countrymen were violently recalled, and many friendly remarks were exchanged between them. Cleocritus, herald of the mystics or communicants in the Eleusinian mysteries, who belonged to one of the most distinguished persons in the state, was among the exiles. His voice was particularly loud and his role allowed him to obtain silence as he made a poignant and emphatic objection to the citizens who served with the Thirty: "Why are you thus exiled, fellow citizens? Why do you want to kill us? harm; we participated with you in religious rites and festivals; we were your companions in choir, school and army; with you we braved a thousand dangers on land and sea to defend our common safety and freedom. I conjure, by our common gods, fathers and Mothers, by our common kinship and fellowship, to stop offending your country in this way, to obey those infamous thirty who in eight months kill as many citizens as citizens for their own private lives the Peloponnesians did. In ten years of war. These are the men who plunged us into a cruel and abominable war against each other when we could live together in peace.Be sure your fall in this battle cost us as many tears as it took. I am to you”.
Such moving appeals, coming from so eminent a man as Cleocritus, and doubtless others as well, began to seem so reasonable to the citizens of Athens that the Thirty were forced to issue orders for their immediate return, which Trasybulus did not attempt. to do. prevents. though it was in his power to do so. But his promotion took a hit from which he never fully recovered. The next day they looked dispirited and dispirited in the Senate, which they attended sparsely; while the privileged three thousand, stationed in various companies on the guard, were everywhere in discord and partial mutiny. Those among them who were most involved in the crimes of the Thirty fought to maintain existing authority; while those who had been less guilty protested against the continuation of so impious a war, declaring that the Thirty should not be allowed to plunge Athens into utter ruin. And though the knights remained staunch supporters and resolutely resisted any accommodation for the exiles, the Thirty were further weakened by the death of Kritias, the rising and decisive chieftain, and at the same time the most cruel and unprincipled of them; while that party, both within and without the Senate, which had formerly sided with Theramenes, now raised its head again. A public meeting was held between them, at which the so-called opposition party among the Thirty, who opposed the extreme monstrosities of Critias, got the upper hand. He was determined to depose the Thirty and form a new oligarchy of ten, one from each tribe. But members of the Thirty were individually eligible for re-election; so that two of them, Eratosthenes and Pheidon, if not more, unkind followers of Theramenes and Kritias and Charicles, with others of like sentiment, were chosen out of the ten. Charicles and the more violent members, who had thus lost their superiority, no longer felt safe in Athens, but withdrew to Eleusis, which they had previously occupied as a precaution. Many of their supporters and also the Lacedaemonian garrison probably withdrew there with them.
The appointment of this new oligarchy of ten was clearly a compromise, entered into by some out of a genuine distaste for the oligarchic system and a desire to come to terms with the exiles; by others, from the belief that the only way to maintain the oligarchic system and expel the exiles was to form a new oligarchic junta and reject what had become offensive. The latter was the purpose of the knights, the chief bearers of both the former and the latter; and this soon came to be regarded as the policy of Eratosthenes and his colleagues. Instead of trying to reach general agreement on terms of accommodation with the exiles in Piraeus, they simply tried to corrupt Thrasybulus and the separate leaders by offering ten of them a share of oligarchic power in Athens, provided they would betray their party. After this offer was indignantly rejected, the war between Athens and Piraeus was resumed, to the bitter disappointment of the exiles, no less than that part of the Athenians who expected better things from the new council of ten.
But the forces of the oligarchy were seriously weakened in Athens, both by the secession of all the most violent spirits after Eleusis, and by the distrust, discord, and discontent which now reigned in the city. Far from being able to abuse power like their predecessors, the Ten did not fully trust even their three thousand hoplites, but were forced to take measures for the defense of the city alongside Hipparchus and the Knights, who performed double duty. - on horseback by day and as hoplites by night with their shields on the walls for fear of surprise - and using the Odeon as their headquarters. The ten sent emissaries to Sparta to request further assistance; while the Thirty also sent envoys from Eleusis for the same purpose; both described that the Athenian people had rebelled against Sparta and needed more violence to retake them.
This foreign help became more and more necessary to them, as before their eyes Thrasybulus' forces in Piraeus grew in numbers, in arms, and in hopes of success; They fought with successful energy for additional weapons and shields, although in reality some of the shields were no better than whitewashed wood or wicker. Many exiles came to his aid, others sent donations in money or weapons: among these the orator Lysias stood out, who brought to Piraeus a gift of two hundred escudos and two thousand drachmas in cash, and also hired three hundred new soldiers; while his friend Thrasydaeus, the leader of the democratic interests in Elis, would indeed grant him a loan of two talents. Others also lent money; some ships contributed two talents, and a certain Gelarco contributed the grand sum of five talents, which the city afterwards repaid. Thrasybulus proclaimed that any metic who wished to help must be killed.isotistic, or payment of taxes on an equal basis with citizens, exempt from Metic and other special charges. In a short time he collected a considerable force, both armed and light, and as many as seventy horsemen; so that he could make excursions from Piraeus and collect wood and provisions. Nor did the ten dare make any aggressive moves outside of Athens, except to send the horsemen who killed or captured stragglers from Thrasybulus' forces. Lysimachus the Hipparchus, the same who had commanded the conquest of the citizens of Eleusis under the Thirty, after capturing some Athenian youths and bringing food from the country for the consumption of the troops in Piraeus, slew them despite the protests of several even of his own men; for whose cruelty Trasybulus took revenge by slaying a knight named Callistratus, who had been captured on one of his marches to neighboring villages.
In the settled civil war now raging in Attica, Thrasybulus and the exiles in Piraeus had a decisive advantage; to maintain the offensive while the Ten at Athens and the rest of the Thirty at Eleusis were each on their defenses. The division of oligarchic forces into these two parties undoubtedly weakened both, while the Piraeus Democrats were courageous and united. Today, however, the arrival of Spartan auxiliaries has changed the balance of the parties. Lysander, whom the oligarchic envoys expressly wished to send as a general, prevailed with the ephors to grant his request. While he himself went to Eleusis and assembled a land force from the Peloponnese, his brother Libyans led a fleet of forty triremes to blockade Piraeus, and a hundred talents were lent to the Athenian oligarchs from the large sum recently brought to the Spartans from the treasury of Asia. .
Lysander's arrival brought the two branches of the oligarchs back to cooperation in Attica, slowed down Thrasybulus' advance, and even caused great distress in Piraeus by shutting out ships or supplies. Nothing could have stopped the surrender if Lysander had been given freedom in his operations. But the general mood in Greece at the time was disgusted with his ambitious politics and with the oligarchies he had everywhere used as his tools; a sentiment which is not without influencing the sentiments of the leading Spartans, who, already jealous of his superiority, were determined not to increase it further, by allowing him to conquer Attica a second time to use his own creatures as rulers to be dominated. used in Athens.
Influenced by these sentiments, King Pausanias obtained the consent of three of the five ephors to lead the allied forces on a campaign against Attica, for which he was immediately proclaimed. Contrary to Lysander's political leanings, he tended to be pro-democratic, not just in Athens but elsewhere such as Mantineia. His intentions towards Athens were probably perceived as mild and anti-Lysandrian, so the summons was generally obeyed by the Peloponnesian allies: the Boeotians and Corinthians, however, refused, claiming that Athens had not done so. convention. ; a remarkable testimony to the change of sentiments in Greece during the past year, as these two states were, up to the time of this convention, more bitterly hostile to Athens than any other in the confederacy. They supposed that even Pausanias's expedition, with the selfish views of the Lacedaemonians, was designed to secure Attica as a separate dependency from Sparta, though it was separate from Lysander.
Approaching Athens, Pausanias, along with Lysander and the forces already in Attica, encamped in the Academy's garden near the city gates. His feelings were sufficiently known beforehand to encourage him; so that the vehement reaction against the atrocities of the Thirty, which Lysander's presence no doubt quelled, broke out without delay. The surviving relatives of the deceased even hound him in the gym of his camp with prayers for protection and cries of revenge against the oligarchs. Among these victims, as I have already said, was the son of Niceratus and Eucrates, brother of Nicias, friend and neighbor of Sparta in Athens, who died at Syracuse. The orphans of Nikeratus and Eucrates were brought to Pausanias by his kinsman Diognetus, who implored his protection for them, while recounting the unmerited execution of their respective fathers and laying out his family claims before the Spartan judiciary. This touching incident, which has become especially familiar to us, was certainly not the only one among so many families suffering from the same cause. Pausanias was immediately given ample reason not only to reject the Thirty and return the gifts offered him, but also not to identify unreservedly with the new oligarchy of the Ten that had risen on its ruins. The Voice of Lament - now unleashed for the first time, with some hope of redress - must have been violent and excessive after a career like that of Kritias and his companions; while the fact, which previously could not have been well presented, has now been fully revealed, that the people looted and murdered were mostly wealthy men, and often even oligarchic men, not politicians of the old democracy. Both Pausanias and the Lacedaemonians with him, on reaching Athens, must have been greatly affected by the facts they learned, and by the loud cry of sympathy and reparation poured out upon them by the most innocent and respected families. The inclination of the king and the ephors against Lysander's policies was materially strengthened, as was their inclination to achieve party alignment rather than perpetuating an unpopular couple through foreign violence.
Such beliefs would be further confirmed the more Pausanias saw and heard the true state of affairs. At first he maintained a decidedly opposed language to Thrasybulus and the exiles, sending them a herald and urging them to disperse and go to their respective homes. Disobeying the summons, he made a weak attack against Piraeus which had no effect. The next day, he marched with two Lacedaemonian Morae, or large military divisions, and three tribes of Athenian horsemen to scout the place and see where a blockade line could be drawn. Some light troops harassed him, but his troops repulsed them and even pursued them to the theater of Piraeus, where all Thrasybulus' forces, heavy and light, were assembled. The Lacedaemonians were here at a disadvantage, probably between houses and streets, so all the light-armed men of Thrasybulus were able to furiously attack them from different places and drive them out again, two of the Spartan polemarchs are here. the slain Pausanias was forced to withdraw to a small rise about half a mile away, where he gathered all his strength and formed his hoplites into a very deep phalanx. Thrasybulus, for his part, was so excited by the recent success of his light armaments that he dared to bring his heavy armaments, only eight deep, into an even fight in the open. But here he was utterly crushed and driven back to Piraeus with the loss of one hundred and fifty men; so that, after a victory, the Spartan king could retire to Athens and erect a trophy in his honor.
The outcome of this battle was extremely happy for Thrasybulus and his comrades; since he left the honors of the day to Pausanias, so as not to provoke enmity or revenge on his part, making it clear that the conquest of Piraeus, defended with so much courage and military skill, would not be an easy thing. He ordered Pausanias to advance towards a barracks; Also reinforcing the strength of this party in Athens, favorable to the same objective and harmful to the ten oligarchs. This opposition party found firm support from the Spartan king, as well as Ephor Nauleidas, who was present with him. Countless Athenians, even among the three thousand who now exclusively occupied the city, assembled to oppose a new war with Piraeus, and begged Pausanias to settle the dispute, leaving them all in friendship with Lacedaemon. Indeed, in keeping with that narrow-minded, partisan spirit that pervades his Hellenic, Xenophon notes no other emotion in Pausanias than his jealousy of Lysander, and treats the opposition to the Ten in Athens as if it had arisen through his intrigues. . But that seems clear. This is not a correct account. Pausanias did not create the discord, but found that it already existed and had to choose which side he would accept. The Ten took up the oligarchic game again after being completely disgraced and ruined in the 1930s: they had neither confidence nor influence with the citizens of Athens, except insofar as this latter reactionary violence in the case of Thrasybulus and his Companions. you must enter again by force; For this reason, when Pausanias was there at the head of a force capable of preventing such a dangerous reaction, the citizens immediately declared themselves against the Ten and for peace with Piraeus. Supporting this peaceful party was the easiest and most likely way for Pausanias to make Sparta known in Greece; while he would certainly have heaped even more bitter curses on them from without, not to mention the loss of men to them, if he had used the amount of force necessary to hold the Ten and subdue Piraeus. To all this we must add his jealousy of Lysander as an important predisposing motive, but only an incidental one, among many others.
Given these facts, it is not surprising to learn that Pausanias encouraged the pleas for peace from Thrasybulus and the exiles, and that he granted them a truce to allow them to send emissaries to Sparta. Along with these envoys were Cephisophon and Melito, sent by the party that was against the ten in Athens, with the sanction of Pausanias and the ephors who accompanied him, with the same purpose of defending peace. On the other hand, the ten, abandoned by Pausanias, sent their own emissaries to overcome the others. They offered to do with themselves, their walls, and their city as the Lacedaemonians wished; Trasybulus, pretending to be a friend of Sparta, would make the same unconditional surrender as Piraeus and Munychia. The three groups of envoys were heard before the ephors remained in Sparta and the Lacedaemonian assembly; who took the best resolution the case allowed, to come to an amicable settlement between Athens and Piraeus, leaving the terms to fifteen commissioners, who were immediately sent thither to sit down with Pausanias. This body determined that the exiles in Piraeus should be readmitted to Athens, that an agreement should take place, and that no one should be disturbed by past acts, except the Thirty, the Eleven (who had been the instruments of all the executions), and the Ten who reigned in Piraeus. But Eleusis was recognized as a separate government from Athens, and remained as it was in the power of the Thirty and their coadjutors, to serve as a refuge to all those who, by their past conduct, might feel threatened in their future. Security in Athens.
Once these terms were proclaimed, accepted and sworn by all parties, Pausanias evacuated Attica with all the Lacedaemonians. Trasybulus and the exiles marched in solemn procession from Piraeus to Athens. His first act was to go to the Acropolis, now free of its Lacedaemonian garrison, and offer there sacrifices and thanksgiving. Going down from there, a general assembly was held, in which -as it seems- by unanimity and without opposition, democracy was re-established. The rule of ten, which could have no other basis than the stranger's sword, naturally disappeared; but Thrasybulus, while vigorously enforcing on his Piraeus comrades full respect for oaths and unreserved harmony with their new fellow citizens, strongly admonished the assembly about past events. “Ye of the city (said he), I advise you to fairly estimate yourselves for the future; and to be fair, what superiority do you have to pretend to rule us? Are you fairer than us? Why did we give you, though poorer than you, never harmed you for the purpose of plundering; while you, the richest of all, have committed many vile acts for the sake of profit. Since you have no righteousness to boast about, are you superior to us in worth? There can be no better process than the war that has just ended. Again, can you claim superiority in politics? You who have a fortified city, an army, a lot of money and the Peloponnesians as your allies, have you been defeated by men who had none of these to help you? Can you boast of controlling the Lacedaemonians? Well, they just handed you over like a vicious dog in a clog strapped to the very protest you wronged and now you've fled the country. But you don't have to worry about the future. I implore you, my friends from Piraeus, do not break the oaths we have just taken. In addition to your other glorious deeds, show that you are honest and true to your commitments."
The archons, the senate of five hundred, the public assembly and the dicasteries now seem to have revived as in the democracy before Lysander's conquest of the city. This important restoration appears sometime in the spring of 403 BC. occurred, although we cannot determine exactly in which month. The first Archon chosen was Eukledes, who gave his name to this memorable year; a year the Athenians never forgot.
Eleusis, at that time and by late convention, was a city independent and separate from Athens, under the rule of the Thirty, and composed of their warmest followers. This separation was unlikely to last; but the Thirty themselves were the parties that brought about its termination. They were assembling a mercenary force at Eleusis when the entire force was marching from Athens to preempt their plans. The Eleusinian generals left to call a conference but were captured and executed; the Thirty-some of the most hateful people fled from Attica; while the rest of the residents of Eleusis were persuaded by their Athenian friends to come to equivalent and honorable lodgings. Once more, Eleusis entered into the same communion with Athena, and all swore an oath to mutual amnesty and harmony.
We are now passing through that brief but bitter and bloody period occupied by the Thirty, which followed so immediately after the fall of the empire and the independence of Athens that there was no opportunity for pause or reflection. A few words about the rise and fall of this empire are now needed to sum up the political morality of the events recorded in my last two volumes between 477 and 405 B.C.
I have described in chapter forty-five the steps by which Athens first acquired her empire, built it up to the fullest, including both sea and land power, and then lost the inner part of it; This loss was confirmed by the Thirty Years' Truce, signed in 445 BC. with Sparta and the Peloponnesian Confederation. Their maritime empire depended on the Delian Confederacy, formed from the islands and coastal cities of the Aegean immediately after the battles of Plataea and Mycale, not only to drive the Persians out of the Aegean, but also to keep them at bay permanently. To achieve this important goal, Sparta was completely inadequate; nor would it ever have been achieved if Athens had not exhibited a combination of military prowess, naval discipline, organizational prowess, and an honorable devotion to a grand Panhellenic goal such as has never been seen before in Greek history.
The Delian Confederation was formed by the free and spontaneous union of many different cities, all equally independent; The cities, meeting in synods and deliberating with equal voting rights, made decisions by majority which were binding on all, and chose Athens as their chief to enforce these decisions and oversee the war against the common enemy at large. But it was a treaty from the start, permanently binding each individual state to the rest. No one was at liberty to resign, or to withhold the contingent imposed by the authority of the joint synod, or to take a separate measure inconsistent with his obligations to the Confederacy. A less stringent union might have prevented the renewal of Persian superiority in the Aegean. Thus, apostate or disobedient states were found guilty of treason or revolt, which Athens had a supreme duty to suppress. His first repressions against Naxos and other states were carried out in the fulfillment of that duty which, had he failed, the confederation would have collapsed and the common enemy would have reappeared.
Now the league could only be saved from disintegration by transforming it into an Athenian empire. As Thucydides clearly indicates, such a conversion arose not from Athenian ambition or deep plans, but from the reluctance of the larger confederates to fulfill the obligations imposed by the common synod and the non-warlike character of the confederates in general. which led them to commute military service in exchange for money, while Athens, in turn, was no less concerned about providing the service and receiving the money. Thus, by gradual and unforeseen stages, Athens went from consulate to empire: in such a way that no one could pinpoint the exact moment when the confederation of Delos ended and the empire began. Even the transfer of the common fund from Delos to Athens, which was the tangible manifestation of a change already under way, was not an act of autocratic injustice on the part of the Athenians, but justified by cautious views of the existing situation, and even suggested by a member important part of the Confederacy.
But the Athenian Empire included (between 460-446 BC) other cities that were not part of the Delian Confederacy. Athens conquered its ancient enemy, the island of Aegina, and gained supremacy over Megara, Boeotia, Phocis and Locris, and Achaia in the Peloponnese. The Megarians joined her to escape the oppression of her neighbor Corinth: she gained her influence in Boeotia by allying herself with a democratic party in the cities of Boeotia, against Sparta, which had actively intervened to support the opposing party and renew the rise of Thebes. Athens, for the time being, was prosperous in all these undertakings; but if we follow the details, we find them no more liable to blame than Sparta or Corinth for their aggressive tendencies. His empire was now at its height; and had he been able to keep it, or even keep the Megarid in separate possession, giving it the power to repel all Peloponnesian invasions, the future course of Greek history would have been materially altered. But his empire on land was not built on the same foundations as his empire at sea. The exiles in Megara and Boeotia, etc., and the anti-Athenian party generally in those places, together with the temerity of their general Tolmides in Coronea, stripped her of all her territorial dependencies near her fatherland, and even threatened to lose her. Euboea. 445 B.C. The peace they made left them with all their sea and island kingdoms, including Euboea, but nothing else; while now, with the loss of Megara, he faced an invasion from the Peloponnese.
On this base it remained fourteen years later, at the beginning of the Peloponnesian War. I have shown that this war did not result from aggressive or ambitious plans on the part of Athens, as has so often been asserted, but that, on the contrary, the aggression was entirely on the part of her enemies; that they were full of hopes of being able to put her to sleep without delay; being not only conservative and defensive, but even discouraged by the certainty of a devastating invasion, and only deterred from concessions as reckless as they were ignominious by the extraordinary influence and resolute wisdom of Pericles. This great man understood well the conditions and limits of the Athenian Empire. Athens was now, especially since the rebellion and reconquest of the mighty island of Samos in 440 BC. BC, understood both by his subjects and enemies and by his own citizens as the lord of the seas. Pericles was concerned to keep this belief within bounds and to avoid any waste of the city's power on new or distant acquisitions that could not be maintained in perpetuity. But he was also concerned to impose on his countrymen the lesson of preserving the existing empire intact and avoiding any necessary effort to do so. Though his entire empire was now staked on the odds of a dangerous war, he had no hesitation in promising them success so long as they maintained this conservative policy.
After the events of the war, we will find that Athens fulfilled it during the first seven years; Years of hardship and trial, from the devastating annual invasion, the even more devastating plague and Mytilene revolt, but years that still left his empire unscathed and the promises of Pericles likely to be fulfilled. The seventh year of the war saw an unexpected victory at Sphakteria and the capture of Lacedaemonian prisoners. This put a great advantage in the hands of the Athenians, and gave them immense confidence of future success, while their enemies were proportionately discouraged. In this regard, they first deviated from the conservative principles of Pericles and tried (424 BC) to recover Megara and Boeotia. If the great statesman had been alive, he could have taken better advantage of this moment of superiority and could even have taken over Megara, a point of incalculable importance for Athens for protecting it from invasions, in exchange for the Spartan prisoner. But the general feeling of confidence which then animated all parties in Athens determined them in 424 BC. seize this and much more by force. They tried to reconquer both Megara and Boeotia: in the first they failed, although they managed to conquer Nisaea so far; in the latter they not only failed, but suffered a catastrophic defeat at Delio.
In the autumn of the same year 424 a. BC Brasidas also invaded their kingdom in Thrace and stole Acanthus, Stageira and a few other cities from them, including their most prized possession, Amphipolis. Again, it seems that the Athenians turned away from the conservative policies of Pericles, partly out of dismay caused by the disaster at Delion, partly because of the rise of Nicias and the peace party; not by ambitious exaggeration, but by inaction, refraining from doing all that could have been done to impede Brasidas' progress. However, we must never forget that the loss of its capital, Amphipolis, was entirely due to the recklessness of its officers and could not have been prevented even by Pericles.
But even if this great man could not have prevented the loss, he certainly would not have found any effort too great to recover it; and in this respect his policy was represented by Kleon against Nicias and the peace party. The latter thought it prudent to declare a truce for a year; which failed so completely that Nicias was forced to bear arms to Palene even in his midst, to save the empire from further loss. However, Nicias and his friends only wanted to hear about peace; and after Cleon's campaign against Amphipolis the following year, which failed partly because of his military ineptitude and partly because of the lack of warm approval from his political opponents, they concluded the so-called Peace of Nicias the following spring. Again, their calculations are no less false than what they imagined in the restoration of Amphipolis in the previous truce, but as far from restoration as ever.To make the error even more serious and irreparable, Nicias, with the consent of Alcibiades, concludes the alliance with Sparta a few months after the peace and delivers the captives, whose goods are the only goods that Athens has had until now to the Spartans. .
Thus, in the four years following the Battle of Delion (424-420 BC) we have several deviations from the conservative policies of Pericles; Outflows, not in the form of ambitious overacquisition, but in languor and unwillingness to bother to recover capital losses. Those who see no faults in the foreign policy of democracy, except those of excessive ambition and belligerence, as in Aristophanes' joke, ignore these opposite but serious errors of Nicias and the party of peace.
Then comes the rise of Alcibiades, which leads to a two-year campaign in the Peloponnese along with Elis, Argos and Mantineia, ending with the complete restoration of Lacedaemonian supremacy. Here there was a diversion of Athenian forces from their legitimate purpose of preserving or restoring the empire to projects in the interior that Pericles could never have sanctioned. The island of Melos undoubtedly fitted his general conceptions of a sustainable empire for Athens, but we can safely assume that he would not have recommended new projects and would have exposed Athens to accusations of injustice while Thrace's lost legitimate possessions remained unconquered.
We now come to the campaign against Syracuse. Until this time, the kingdom of Athens remained intact, with the exception of possessions in Thrace, and its general power was almost as great as it had been since 445 BC. This expedition was the only major and fatal deviation from Pericles' policy, which brought Athens great misery from which she never recovered; and it was doubtless a fallacy of over-ambition. The acquisitions in Sicily, even when they were made, set the conditions for an enduring Athenian empire; and however impressive the first effect of success might have been, it would only increase his strength, multiply his enemies, and weaken him in every direction. But while the expedition itself was undeniably reckless and must therefore count to discredit the public judgment in Athens, we must not blame that public in proportion to the scale of the disaster. except in so far as they were guilty of an inordinate and insuperable esteem for Nicias. Although Pericles was strongly opposed to the project, he could not foresee the huge ruin in which it would end; nor could any existing man but Nikias cause such a ruin. Even when the people were grossly imprudent in sending the second expedition, Demosthenes doubtless assured them that he would speedily take Syracuse, or return both arms, with due compensation for the losses inseparable from the failure; and he would have done so if Nicias' stubbornness had allowed it. In assessing the extent of the miscalculation largely attributable to the Athenians for this ruinous undertaking, we must always remember that first the failure of the siege, then the ruin of the armaments, arose not from the internal difficulties of the case, but from personal deficiencies. of the commander
After the Syracuse disaster, there is no way to adhere to or deviate from the Periklean policy. Athena is like Patroclus in the Iliad after Apollo stuns him by hitting him in the back and loosening his armor. Nothing but the negligence of his enemies left his time in partial recovery, to substitute high heroism for violence committed, even against double and triple troubles. And the years of struggle he endured now rank among the most glorious events in its history. These years bring many misfortunes, but no serious miscalculations, not to mention a particularly honorable moment after the fall of the Four Hundred. I have examined in the previous two chapters the blame placed on the Athenians for not accepting peace offers after the battle of Cyzicus and for dismissing Alcibiades after the battle of Notium. On both counts, his behavior proved to be justified. After all, in 408 BC. C. were on the verge of a partial recovery when Cyrus' unexpected arrival sealed their fate.
The bloodshed after the reconquest of Mytilene and Skione, and even more so after the conquest of Melos, is a disgrace to the humanity of Athens and stands in stark contrast to the treatment of Samos in Pericles' reconquest. That said, they didn't reasonably contribute to breaking his power; though remembered with distaste after other incidents are forgotten, they are later mentioned as the cause of the empire's downfall.
It seemed important to me to summarize in this brief summary the most important events of the seventy years before 405 BC. This shipwreck had a great cause, we can almost say a single cause, the Sicilian expedition. The empire of Athens was, and appeared to be, in exuberant strength when this expedition was sent; More than enough power to withstand any mild failure or mild calamity that no government can long escape. But the catastrophe of Syracuse was something that exceeded in terrible catastrophe all Greek experience and all predictions. It was like the Russian campaign of 1812 against Emperor Napoleon; though by no means equally attributable to vice in the original draft. No Greek power could withstand so mortal a wound, and the long struggle of Athens is not the least miraculous part of the whole war.
Nothing in the political history of Greece is as remarkable as the Athenian Empire; Let's consider it in its entirety, from about 460 to 413 B.C. B.C., the date of the Syracuse catastrophe, or even further, from 460 to 424 B.C. After the Syracuse catastrophe, conditions in the empire completely changed; it was irretrievably destroyed, although Athens still continued a vigorous struggle to retain some of the fragments. But if we look at it as it was before this event during the time of its integrity, it is a wonderful sight, and its operation must, I think, be described as extremely helpful to the Greek world. No Greek state but Athens would have sufficed to organize such a system, or to hold in partial, though regulated, continuous, and specific communion, so many little states, each animated by that force of instinctive political revulsion in the Greek mind. This was a daunting task, worthy of Athens, and for which no state but Athens had jurisdiction. We have seen in part, and shall see later, how Sparta was disqualified from carrying it out, and later we shall have occasion to observe a similar and unsuccessful attempt on the part of Thebes.
As with Athenian democracy in general, so far as its empire was concerned, historians were wont to point to little more than evil. But my belief is, and I have shown reasons for it, that the reign of Athens was not the harsh and oppressive one commonly portrayed. In the circumstances of his rule, at a time when all Aegean transit and commerce was under a maritime system which excluded all irregular forces; when Persian warships kept out of the waters and Persian tributary officers from shore; if the inevitable disputes between so many small communities could be settled peacefully by the mutual right of appeal to the courts of Athens, and if those courts too were constituted in such a way as to offer victims a refuge from misdeeds even by the citizens of Athens themselves. Compromised, to use the expression of the oligarchic Phrinic, the position of the sea Greeks was materially better than it was before or will be after. Their empire certainly did not arouse antipathy, if not attachment, among the mass of citizens of subjugated communities, as the partisan nature of the revolts against them demonstrates. If in her imperial character she demanded obedience, she also performed duties and granted protection to an incomparably greater degree than Sparta had ever achieved. And however inclined she might have been to restrict the free play of thought and intention among her subjects - a trend by no means proven - the circumstances of her own democracy, with its flagrant antithesis to political parties, were universal liberty. individual diversity. the energies would do much to thwart the achievement of such a goal and act as a spur to dependent communities, even without their own intent.
Without being insensitive to the mistakes or misdeeds of imperial Athens, I believe that her empire was a great comparative advantage to her own subjects and her annihilation a great loss. But I think it was even more good when seen in terms of Panhellenic interests. Its maintenance provided the only way to avoid foreign intervention and make Greece dependent on spontaneous and unencumbered internal Greek agencies. The fall of the Athenian Empire is the sign that Persia's weapons and corruption are making their presence felt again, and the renewed enslavement of Asiatic Greeks under its tributary officials. What is worse, it leaves the Greek world in a state unable to repel any vigorous attack from without and open to the sweeping march of "the Macedonian man" half a century later. For the natural tendency of the Greek world towards political non-integration or disintegration was such that the rise of the Athenian Empire, which incorporated so many states into a single system, must be considered an extraordinary coincidence. Nothing but the genius, energy, discipline and democracy of Athens could have done this; not even it, unless it is favored and stimulated by a very peculiar set of antecedent facts. But once he got it, he might as well have kept it; and if it had, the Hellenic world would have remained organized to repel foreign intervention; either by Susa or by Pella. When we consider how infinitely superior the Hellenic spirit was to that of all neighboring nations and races; how completely stifled his creative power once he fell under Macedonian dictation; and how much more it might have achieved had it enjoyed another century or half a century of freedom, under the stimulating leadership of the most progressive and intellectual of all its separate communities, we will see with double regret the ruin of the Athenian Empire which irretrievably hastened its general decline. of Greek independence, political action and intellectual greatness
CHAPTER LXVI.
FROM THE RESTORATION OF DEMOCRACY TO THE DEATH OF ALKIBIADES.
The period of time between the defeat of Aegospotami (October 405 BC) and the restoration of convention-sanctioned democracy ended with Pausanias, sometime in the summer of 403 BC. BC, he presented Athens with two years of cruel and varied suffering. Seven years ago, indeed since the Syracuse disaster, he had struggled with deprivation; fight against rising enemy violence while your own resources have been cut off in every way; crippled at home by the Dekeleia garrison; largely deprived of tribute and foreign trade and plagued by the trappings of their own oligarchs. Despite such adverse circumstances, he kept up the fight with a determination no less surprising than admirable; but not without sinking ever deeper into impoverishment and exhaustion. Aegospotami's defeat immediately ended the war and moved them from their time of struggle to a time of final agony. The last word is not very strong for reality. Of these two years, the first part was marked by severe physical deprivation, which gradually degenerated into absolute starvation, and accompanied by the unbearable feeling of despair and impotence in the face of its enemies, after two generations of imperial grandeur, not without a great chance of survival at last. abandoned to extinction and individual slavery; while the last part comprehended all the tyranny, murder, robbery and expulsion committed by the Thirty, and only overthrown by heroic efforts of patriotism on the part of the exiles; which finally culminated in a happy change of heart on the part of Pausanias and the leading members of the Peloponnesian Confederation.
After so many years of misery, it was an indescribable relief for the Athenian people to reconquer Athens and Attica, to exchange their native tyrants for a renewed democratic government, and to see their foreign enemies not only evacuate the country, but contractually commit themselves to future friends. promotions. . . In terms of power, Athens was in fact a mere shadow of itself. It was an empire, without tribute, without a fleet, without fortifications in Piraeus, without long walls, without a single fortified place in Attica, except the city itself. From everyone except the Athenians. he probably took these losses for granted, at least in the early days of his recovery; so unbearable was the pressure from which they had just escaped, and so they welcomed the return of comfort, security, propriety and independence at home. It was precisely the excess of tyranny committed by the Thirty that gave particular impetus to the restoration of democracy. In its hands, the oligarchic principle had, to use Burke's phrase, "actually and immediately produced the worst of the evils with which it was inherently impregnated"; to fulfill the promise of that plainly declared oligarchic oath, which Aristotle mentions was taken in several oligarchic cities, to do the greatest harm possible to the people. All the more complete was the reaction of sentiments towards the old democracy, even in the minds of those who were formerly dissatisfied with it. To everyone, rich and poor, bourgeois and mercenary, the relative excellence of democracy in all the essentials of good government was now evident. With the exception of those who identified with the Thirty as partners, supporters, or instruments, there were few who did not feel that their lives and property had been, and would again be, far safer in the former democracy than in the revived democracy.
It was the first action of Thrasybulus and his companions, after making the treaty with Pausanias and thus reentering the city, to exchange solemn oaths of amnesty for the past with those against whom they had just fought. Similar oaths of amnesty were also exchanged with those at Eleusis as soon as that city fell into their power. The only people exempt from this amnesty were the Thirty, the Eleven who directed the execution of all their atrocities and the Ten who reigned in Piraeus. Even these individuals were not banished outright: they were given the opportunity to enter and be tried (a common occurrence in Athens for any resigning judge); therefore, if they were acquitted, they would benefit from the amnesty along with everyone else. We know that Eratosthenes, one of the Thirty, later returned to Athens, for there is a powerful speech by Lysias invoking justice against him for having slain Polemarchus, brother of Lysias, generally with Theramenes, and largely resisting extremes. . Kritias acts of violence, though he was personally involved in the apprehension and execution of the wealthy metics, against whom Theramenes had resisted, and which was one of the grossest crimes even in this dark period. He and Pheidon, who were among the ten designated to succeed the Thirty after the death of Kritias when the remaining members of that deposed junta withdrew to Eleusis, struggled to assert themselves as the new oligarchy while waging war against the Eleusinian leader. democratic exiles in Piraeus. Otherwise, they had withdrawn from the country when these exiles returned and democracy was restored for the first time. But after a period of time, when the intense feelings of the moment subsided a bit, their friends encouraged them to go back and face their responsibility again. On that occasion, Lysias brought his accusation against Eratosthenes, the result of which we do not know, although we see clearly, even in the accusatory speech, that he had powerful friends who supported him and that the dictators were reluctant to condemn him. We also learn from the same discourse that the Thirty were so hated among various states around Attica that formal decrees were induced to expel them or forbid their arrival. Children, even those under thirty who did not return, were allowed to remain in Athens and enjoy their civil rights unmolested; a rare moderation in Greek political warfare.
The first plebiscite of the Athenians after the peace agreement with Sparta and the return of the exiles was intended, simply and clearly, to restore the old democracy, to elect the nine archons and the Senate of Five Hundred by lot, and to elect the generals, all as before. This restoration of the earlier constitution seems to have been partially opposed by a citizen named Formisius, who, having served with Thrasybulus in Piraeus, now proposed that future political suffrage be restricted to landowners in Attica. His proposal was seen as supported by the Lacedaemonians and recommended as calculated to make Athens march in better harmony with them. It was presented as a compromise between oligarchy and democracy, excluding both the freest poor and those whose property was movable or land outside Attica; so that the total number of persons deprived of their rights would have been five thousand persons. As Athens had lost its fleet and its naval empire, and as the importance of Piraeus had been greatly diminished not only by these losses, but also by the demolition of its long and separated walls, Formisius and others saw a favorable opportunity to attack the sea. transport. - and the volume of trade in citizens' paper. Many of these men must have been from humble and even prosperous circumstances, but most of them were poor; and Formisius, of course, used the usual arguments to try to prove that the poor have nothing to do with judgment or political action. But the proposal was rejected; the orator Lysias was among his opponents, and composed a speech against him, which was delivered, or was to be delivered, by a distinguished citizen of the assembly.
Unfortunately, we are left with only a fragment of the speech, in which the proposal is rightly criticized as malicious and ill-timed, depriving Athens of much of her rightful strength, patriotism and harmony, and even of eminent men qualified to act as hoplites. to serve the knights, at a time when he was barely getting up from total exhaustion. The error which links depravity or political incompetence with poverty and virtue or political insight with wealth has never been more clearly exposed than in connection with recent Athenian experience. Very true was the observation of Thrasybulos that in a few months the Thirty had committed a greater number of atrocities against person and property, and were favored by the chivalric class, rich men all, than the poor majority of the demos. generations Furthermore, on the authority of a witness hostile to democracy, we know that the poor Athenian citizens who served on board and elsewhere faithfully obeyed their commanders; while wealthier citizens, who served as hoplites and knights and claimed greater individual prestige, were much less orderly in public service.
After Phormisius' request was denied, the former democracy was unreservedly restored, along with Draco's ordinances and Solon's laws, weights and measures. However, on closer examination, it was found that this last part of the resolution was not compatible with the amnesty that had just been promised. Under the laws of Solon and Drako, the perpetrators of outrages among the Thirty were guilty and on trial. To escape this consequence, a second sephism, or decree, was issued at the suggestion of Tisamenos to revise the laws of Solon and Draco and re-edit them with additions and changes deemed appropriate. Five hundred citizens had just been elected by the people to be nomothetae, or legislators, while the senate of five hundred was chosen by lot: out of these nomothetae the senate now chose some whose duty it was to carry out all proposals for reform or supplement the examination of the laws of old democracy and display them for public inspection in front of statues of the heroes of the same name in the current month. The senate and the whole body of five hundred nomothets were then to be convened, that each might individually examine both the old laws and the new proposals; the Nomothetae had previously sworn to make just decisions. While this discussion was taking place, any individual was free to enter the Senate and present their opinions with reasons for or against any bill. All the laws that were passed first by the Senate and then by the Nomothetes, but not others, were to be handed over to the magistrates and inscribed on the porch called Poekile, to be made public knowledge as the future Ordinance. City hall. The laws enacted by such public inscription, the Senate of the Areopagus was charged with being observed and duly enforced by the magistrates. An interim committee of twenty citizens was appointed to have overall responsibility for the city during the period of this review.
Once the laws were revised and publicly placed in the poekile, two final laws were made as per the previous decree, which served the purpose of the citizens.
The first of these laws forbade magistrates to act or authorize any law that was not registered; and declared that no prejudice, either of the senate or the people, should take precedence over any law. He also renewed the ancient prohibition, dating back to the days of Cleisthenes and the first origin of democracy, to enact a special law inflicting direct privations on all Athenians except the rest, except for the votes of six thousand citizens.
The second of the two laws stipulated that all judicial decisions and arbitrations passed in the former democracy should be considered valid and uncontested, but formally nullified any passed in the Thirty. He further provided that the laws now revised and inscribed should not come into force until the Archon of Euclid; that is, the appointment of Archons made after the recent return of Thrasybulus and the renewal of Democracy.
Through these ever-memorable edicts, all actions prior to the appointment of. Archon Eukledes and his colleagues were murdered in the summer of 403 BC. excluded from serving as a basis for criminal proceedings against a citizen. In order to secure this more fully, a special clause was added to the annual oath of senators, as well as to the oath of the Heliastic Dicasteries. The senators are sworn not to press charges against the Archon of Eukledes or make arrests, except against the Thirty and others who were expressly excluded from the amnesty and are now in exile. A clause was also added to the annual oath taken by the heliasts: “I will not remember the mistakes of the past, nor will I support anyone else who remembers them; on the contrary, I will cast my vote in accordance with existing laws”; whose laws only came into force after the Archon of Euklede.
A further provision was made to prohibit any action of redress or damage based on acts committed before the Archon of Eukledes. At the request of Archinus, the chief colleague of Thrasybulus at Phyle, a law was passed granting permission to any defendant against whom such a suit might be brought, to make an exception in money or paragraphs on the specific ground of the amnesty and the related legal requirement. . . The legal effect of these exceptional paragraphs or grounds in the Attic case was to increase both the probability of default and the financial obligations in the event of default by the plaintiff; also in order to significantly improve the chances of the defendants. This decree is said to have been prompted by Archinus when he saw some people starting to take legal action despite the amnesty; and the better to prevent all these complaints.
These additional ordinances ensured that court proceedings were in full compliance with the recently sworn amnesty and that no person was harassed, directly or indirectly, for irregularities before Euclides. And indeed, the amnesty was faithfully observed: the exiles returned from Piraeus, and the knights with other supporters of the Thirty in Athens merged again into a harmonious and egalitarian democracy.
Eight years before these events, we saw the oligarchic conspiracy of the Four Hundred triumph for a moment and then be overthrown; and we had the opportunity to verify, in relation to this event, the wonderful absence of all reactionary violence on the part of the victorious people, in a moment of serious provocation by the past and extreme anxiety for the future. We note that Thucydides, who was no friend of Athenian democracy, chose that very occasion - when a manifestation of a vengeful impulse might be considered likely and natural - to heap the highest praise on its mild and moderate attitude. Had the historian lived to describe the reign of the Thirty and the Restoration that followed, his pronouncements would no doubt have been warmer and, in the same spirit, more emphatic. Few events in history, ancient or recent, are more surprising than the behavior of the Athenian people in restoring their democracy after the fall of the Thirty: and when we connect it with similar phenomena after the deposition of the Four Hundred, we see that neither of them nor the other arose. from a particular whim or coincidence of the moment; both depended on enduring attributes of popular character. If we knew nothing more than the events of these two periods, we should be entitled, on the basis of this evidence alone, to reject the series of despicable predicates: silly, temperamental, jealous, unfair, greedy, etc., of which one or other Mr. Mitford says it often and implies, even when he doesn't say it, that he respects the Athenian people. A people whose temper and customary customs deserved these epithets could not have acted like the Athenians after the Four Hundred and Thirty. Certain acts can be found in his history that deserve severe criticism; but as to the enduring elements of character, both moral and intellectual, no population in history has ever offered stronger evidence than the Athenians on these two memorable occasions.
If we trace the exploits of the Thirty, we will see that the knights and the three thousand privileged hoplites of the city became participants in all kinds of egregious crimes, which can be imagined embittering the feelings of the exiles. These latter, on their return, saw before them men who had given up their relatives to die without trial, who had confiscated and enjoyed their property, who had driven them all out of the city, and a great part of them even from Attica. . ; and that he stayed in power not only by overturning the constitution, but also by inviting and subsidizing foreign guards. Such atrocities, planned and ordered by the Thirty, were carried out with the help and for the common benefit, as Critias rightly pointed out, of those inhabitants of the city whom the exiles met on their return. Now Thrasybulus, Anytus, and the rest of these exiles saw their estates plundered and appropriated by others during the few months of their absence: we may assume their lands, which were probably not sold, but given to individual members or supporters by the Thirty. they were given back to them; but the chattels could not be claimed, and the losses he suffered were immense. The men who had caused and profited from these losses - often with great brutality to the exiles' wives and families, as we know from the case of the orator Lysias - were now in Athens, all known individually to the victims. Likewise, León's sons and brothers and the other victims of the Thirty imagined the very citizens at whose hands their innocent relatives were being arrested and executed without trial. The magnitude of the injustice suffered was infinitely greater than in the 1400s, and provocation at all levels, public and private, was violent on a scale unmatched in history. Yet, with all that burning in their chests, we find the victorious crowd, of the latter as well as the former, burying the past in indiscriminate amnesty, concerned only with the future harmonious march of renewed and all-embracing democracy. We see Commonwealth sentiment in the demos, twice contrasted with factional sentiment in a rising oligarchy; twice triumphant over the strongest opposing motives, over the bitterest memories of murder and unlawful plunder, over all that passionate onslaught of reactionary lust which marks the moment of political restoration. "Bloody will be the government of the king who returns from exile to his kingdom," says the Latin poet: Bloody indeed was the government of Critias and those oligarchs who had just returned from exile: "Harsch is a Demos (remarks Aeschylus ), which has just come out of misery." But the Athenian Demos, on his return from Piraeus, exhibited the rare phenomenon of recovery after suffering heinous injustices, sacrificing the strong impulse of revenge to a generous and conscientious regard for the future march of the community. Thucydides points out that the tempering of political antipathy which prevailed in Athens after the people's victory over the Four Hundred was the main cause which revived Athens from its great depression and public danger. This observation applies even more to the Restoration after the 1930s, when the public condition of Athens had sunk into the abyss from which nothing could have rescued it but exemplary wisdom and patriotism on the part of her victorious demos. gone to achieve that partial resurrection, in a single independent and powerful state, though deprived of imperial power, which will furnish material for the rest of our history.
While we note the memorable determination of the Athenian people to forget what could not be remembered without ruin to the future march of democracy, we must, at the same time, note what they did everything to save from oblivion. They formally recognized all adjudicated cases and all property rights existing in pre-1930s democracy. Democracy must remain valid, so that there is no abolition of debt, no abrogation of private rights, but all men can have the means of enforcing the contracts owed him by others." If the Athenian people were animated by that desire to plunder the rich, and that submission to the passion of the moment, which Mr. Mitford ascribes to them in so many chapters of their history, now they lacked neither reason nor occasion for a total apprehension, of which the rich gave ample example Even during the reign of the Thirty Amnesty for political errors and the indelible memory of property rights are equally prominent as evidence of the true character of demos athenians.
If we wanted more evidence of his ability to present the broadest and most reasonable views in a difficult political situation, we should find it in another of his actions at this critical time. The Ten, who had assumed the oligarchical presidency of Athens after the death of Critias and the expulsion of the Thirty, had borrowed from Sparta the sum of one hundred talents, for the express purpose of making war on the exiles in Piraeus. After peace, it was necessary that this sum be repaid, and some suggested resorting to the assets of the people and of the party that had lent the money. The apparent justice of the proposal was undoubtedly felt with particular force at a time when the treasury was in a situation of extreme poverty. However, both democratic leaders and the people vigorously resisted and chose to recognize guilt as a public accusation; capacity in which it was subsequently liquidated, after some delay resulting from an undelivered treasury.
The knights or knights who served the Thirty were only required to repay the sums advanced by them for equipment. Such an advance to knights, subject to later repayment and apparently separate from regular military pay, seems to have been common practice in earlier democracy; but we may easily believe that the Thirty, in their eagerness to recruit or encourage guerrillas, went to abusive excesses, when we remember that they resorted to more nefarious means to the same end. There were, of course, great individual differences between these gentlemen as to the degree to which each had indulged in the crimes of the oligarchy. Even their culprits were unmolested and sent to serve with Agesilaus in Asia four years later, at a time when the Lacedaemonians were demanding a contingent of cavalry from Athens; the demos were only too happy to be able to render them an honorable foreign service. But the Knights as a whole suffered so little harm from the memory of the Thirty that many of them in later days became senators, generals, hiparchs, and holders of other important offices in the state. Although the decree of Tisameno, which prescribed an immediate revision of the laws and ordered that the laws, once revised, be submitted to public inspection to form the sole and exclusive direction of the dicasteries, immediately after its promulgation it returned from Piraeus and the confirmation of the amnesty, but it appears that there was a considerable delay before such a decree took effect. A person named Nicomachean was entrusted with the duty, and is accused of being backward and corrupt in discharging it. He was also a scribe or secretary, like Tisamenos, under that name a class of paid officials who were of great importance in the details of Athenian affairs, though apparently men of low birth and considered to represent a subordinate position, openly derided as cruel. Speakers. Committees, judges, and public bodies changed so frequently in Athens that the continuity of public affairs could only be maintained by paid secretaries of this kind, constantly devoted to the task.
Nicomachus had been appointed during the pre-1930s democracy with the aim of making a fair copy and republishing Solon's ancient laws, probably in clearer letters and in a more convenient location for the public. We may well understand that the renewed democratic feeling which broke out after the expulsion of the Four Hundred, and which dictated the fierce Sephism of Demophantus, might, of course, also produce such a commission, both for Nicomachean and for one of the public scribes. , or secretaries, and as an able orator he was a suitable person. His accuser, for whom Lysias wrote his thirtieth speech, which has now survived, denounced him not only for intentionally delaying business to prolong the period of repayment, but also for having corrupted the old laws with new insertions and omissions. How far such accusations may have been justified we cannot judge; but even supposing Nicomachus to be honest and industrious, he would find no little difficulty in correctly discharging his duty as an anagrapher, or "scribe," of all the ancient laws of Athens from Solon onwards. Both the language of these ancient laws and the alphabet in which they were written were, in many cases, obsolete and obsolete; though there were undoubtedly cases where one law was wholly or partly in conflict with another. Now, such contradictions and archaisms would probably be offensive if placed in a new location and with fresh, clean characters; while Nicomachus was not authorized to make the slightest change, and could therefore, of course, lock himself up in an order which did not promise him much honor in its result.
These observations indicate that the need for a new collection and publication, if we may use the word, of the Laws was felt before the thirties. But such a project could hardly have been carried out without, at the same time, revising the laws as a whole, removing all glaring contradictions and correcting what at the time might openly displease in terms of content or style. Now, Tisameno's Sephism, one of the first measures of renewed democracy after the 1930s, prescribed such a revision and created a revision body; but now Archinus proposed and executed a further decree as to the alphabet in which the revised laws would be written. The Ionian alphabet, that is, the complete 24-letter Greek alphabet as now written and printed, was in general use in Athens for some time, apparently for two generations; but owing to a dogged adherence to ancient custom, the laws were still designed to be written in the old Attic alphabet of only sixteen or eighteen letters. It was then decreed that this scattered alphabet should be discontinued and that the revised laws, as well as all future public acts, should be written in the complete Ionian alphabet.
Partly through this important reform, partly through the body of revision, partly through the agency of Nicomachus, which still continued as Anagrapheus, the revision, inscription, and publication of the statutes in their new alphabet was finally completed. But the performance appears to have lasted two years, or at least two years passed before Nicomachus went through his accountability process. He himself seems to have made several new allegations, which were among those accepted by the Nomothetes: hence his accuser attacks him both on the accountability process and on the even more serious charge of corruptly misrepresenting the decisions of this one Body. writing what they did not sanction, or suppressing what they sanctioned.
Euclid's Archon, which immediately followed Anarchy - as the Archon of Pythodorus, or period of the 1930s, was called - thus became a cardinal point, or epoch, in the history of Athens. We cannot doubt that the laws were significantly modified as a result of this revision, although unfortunately we do not have the details of these. We learn that, after Aristophone's proposal, political suffrage was restricted to the point where no one could be a citizen by birth except the child of common parents on both sides; whereas in the past it was enough that the father was the sole citizen. The rhetorician Lysias, of Metic rank, not only suffered a great loss in narrowly escaping the 1930s, which in fact killed his brother Polemarchus, but also contributed a large sum to support the armed efforts of the exiles under Thrasybulus. . in support of Piraeus. As a reward and compensation for these facts, he proposed to grant him citizenship; but we are told that, although this decree was accepted by the people, it was afterwards denounced as unlawful or informal by Arquinus, and rescinded. Lisias, so disillusioned with citizenship, spent the rest of his life as aisotelen, or not a free man in the best condition, exempt from the special taxes of the metic class.
Such a denial of citizenship to an eminent man like Lysias, who acted and suffered in the cause of democracy, in connection with the aforementioned decree of Aristophones, implies a greater degree of severity which we can only in part explain. Athens now had to deal not only with the renewal of its democracy. It also had to adapt its legislation and administration to its future march as an isolated state, without empire or foreign dependencies. For this, significant changes must have been necessary: among other things, we know that the Hellenotamae council -originally named after the collection and administration of tributes on Delos- gradually expanded its functions until it became something immediately prior to En In the In the 1930s , the state treasurers-general were employed, and those of their duties which had not lapsed with the loss of the foreign empire were transferred to two new officers, treasurer of war and administrator of the empire of Theorikon, or religious festival fund. . Concerning these two new departments, the latter specially enlarged to include the greater part of the expenses of a peace establishment, I shall speak at length later; I see them today only as manifestations of the great change in Athenian administration that followed the loss of the empire. No doubt many other changes arose from the same cause, though we do not know them in detail; and I am inclined to include among them the aforementioned civil rights change. As long as the Athenian Empire existed, the citizens of Athens were scattered across the Aegean in all kinds of roles, such as colonists, traders, navigators, soldiers, etc.; which must have been instrumental in encouraging intermarriage between them and women from other Greek island states. Indeed, we are even told that the Euboeans obtained express permission to marry the Athenians, a fact pointed out by Lysias to illustrate the tendency of the Athenian empire to increase family ties between Athens and the allied cities. By the law in force before Eukledes, the child of each marriage was an Athenian citizen by birth, an institution then useful to Athens, as it strengthened the bonds of her empire, and in a wider sense extremely useful, among the causes of sympathy. panhellenic. But when Athens was stripped of both its empire and its fleet and confined to the confines of Attica, there was no longer any reason to continue such a regime, so the exclusive urban feeling instinctive in the Greek mind once again became dominant. This is perhaps the explanation of the new restrictive law proposed by Aristophones.
Thrasybulus and the brave handful of exiles who first took Phyle received no greater reward from their countrymen than a thousand drachmas for a common sacrifice and votive offering, together with wreaths of olive trees as tokens of gratitude. The debts that Athens owed Thrasybulus were indeed such as could not be paid with money. To their individual patriotism we can largely attribute not only the restoration of democracy but also their post-restoration good behavior. How different would the results of the Restoration and the conduct of the people have been if the event had been caused by a man like Alcibiades, who used great skill mainly to promote his own lust and power!
However, Alcibiades was no longer in the restoration of democracy. Shortly after the catastrophe of Aegospotami, he sought refuge in the satrapy of Pharnabazus, as he no longer felt safe from the persecution of the Lacedaemonians in their forts in Thracian Chersonese. He took with him many properties, though he left more in these forts; how acquired we do not know. But apparently, after crossing the Bosphorus into Asia, he was sacked by the Thracians in Bithynia and suffered heavy casualties before reaching Pharnabazo in Phrygia. Renewing the bond of personal hospitality which he had formed with Pharnabazus four years before, he now begged the satrap to allow him safe conduct to Susa. Athetic envoys sent by Pharnabazus after his earlier pacification with Alcibiades in 408 BC. to escort Susa, but bound by Cyrus's command to keep her prisoners, she has just been released from her three-year confinement, and is allowed to go to Propontis; and Alcibiades, who had originally planned this mission, tried to persuade the satrap to keep the original promise which he had failed to keep. The hopes of the sanguine exile, based on Themistocles' history, led him to expect at Susa the same success as the latter's; Nor was the project impractical for someone whose abilities were well known and who had previously served as a minister to Tissaphernes. The Susa court was in a special position at that time. King Darius Nothus, who had recently died, was succeeded by his eldest son, Artaxerxes Mnemon; but the youngest son Cyrus, whom Darius had sought out during his last illness, after his death tried, or at least was suspected of trying, to replace Artaxerxes in the line of succession. When the queen mother Parysatis was captured and about to be assassinated, he persuaded Artajerjes to pardon him and send him back to his satrapy off the coast of Jonia, where he made an effort, even in secret, to raise funds to dethrone to your brother; a memorable attempt, which I'll talk about in more detail later. But his plans, though carefully masked, did not escape the notice of Alcibiades, who wished to take credit for revealing them to Susa and becoming the instrument of her defeat. He informed Farnabazos of his suspicions, as well as his intention; whom he tried to rouse by warning of the danger of the Reich, so that he could be sent to Susa as an informant and helper.
Pharnabazus was already jealous and disagreeable in spirit with Lysander and the Lacedaemonians, of which we shall presently see clear evidence, and perhaps also with Cyrus, since these were the usual relations of neighboring satraps in the Persian Empire. But the sea demons and Cyrus were all-powerful on the Asian coast now, so she probably wouldn't dare anger them by identifying herself with such a hostile mission and such a dangerous enemy for both of them. Consequently, he refused to grant Alcibiades' request; however, she granted him permission to live in Phrygia and even transferred an income to him. But the ends pursued by the exile soon revealed themselves more or less fully to those against whom they were directed. His restless, enterprising and skillful character was so well known that he aroused exaggerated fears and exaggerated hopes. Not only Cyrus, but also the Lacedaemonians, close allies of Cyrus, and the decadarchies that Lysander had established in Asiatic Greek cities, and who maintained their power only thanks to the support of the Lacedaemonians, were worried about the prospect of seeing Alcibiades devastated. new in action and command, in the midst of so many inexplicable elements. Nor can we doubt that the exiles who exiled these Decaderchies, and the disaffected citizens who remained at home under his rule for fear of exile or death, corresponded with him and saw him as a likely deliverer. Furthermore, the Spartan king Agis still harbored the same personal dislike for him that, a few years earlier, had caused orders to be sent from Sparta to Asia to assassinate him. There are enough elements of animosity, revenge and concern for Alcibiades in the water here to believe the story of Plutarch sending Kritias and the Thirty to notify Lysander that the oligarchy in Athens could not exist as long as Alcibiades lived. The truth is, though the Thirty listed him in exile, they had far less to fear from his raids or plots in Attica than the Decaderchies of Lysandria did in the cities of Asia. Furthermore, his name was not popular even among the Athenian democrats, as we shall see later when we recount Socrates' trial. It is probable, therefore, that the alleged intervention of Critias and the Thirty to provoke the murder of Alcibiades is a fiction of the later commanders of the latter in Athens, to gain him claims of esteem as a friend and companion in suffering of democracy.
The Spartan authorities sent a special dispatch, or celestial report, to Lysander in Asia, urging him to take charge of Alcibiades' execution. Consequently, Lysander communicated this order to Pharnabazus, in whose satrapy Alcibiades resided, and requested its execution. The whole character of Pharnabazus shows that he would not have committed such an act with a man with whom he had been on friendly terms, without genuine disgust and great external pressure; especially as it would have been easy for him to deceive the intended victim into flight. We may therefore be sure that it was Cyrus, informed of the revelations contemplated by Alcibiades, who forced Lysander's requisition; and that their joint demand was too powerful to be avoided, much less openly disobeyed. Consequently, Pharnabazus sent his brother Magaeus and uncle Sisamithres with a group of armed men to assassinate Alcibiades in the Phrygian village where he resided. These men, not daring to enter his house, surrounded it and set fire to it; but Alcibiades, having managed to put out the flames, rushed at his attackers with a dagger in his right hand and a cloak rolled up in his left to serve as a shield. None of them dared approach him; but they covered him with a hail of darts and arrows, until he perished, without defence, shield or armour. A companion he lived with, Timandra, wrapped his body in her own clothes and performed the last loving celebrations for him.
This was the fact that Cyrus and the sea demons scrupulously ordered the execution of the uncle and brother of a Persian satrap, and for which this famous Athenian died before he was fifty years old. Had he lived, we cannot doubt that he would again have played a leading role, for neither his temper nor his skill would have allowed him to remain in the shadows, but whether or not he would have benefited Athena is more debatable. What is certain is that the good he did her was out of proportion to the far greater evil of taking her life. He was the cause of the fateful expedition to Sicily more than anyone else, although this undertaking cannot be said to have been caused by an individual but by a national impulse. First, as an adviser, he did more than anyone else to lead the Athenians on this reckless adventure; doom. . Without him, Gylippus would not have been sent to Syracuse, Dekeleia would not have been fortified, Chios and Miletus would not have revolted, the oligarchic conspiracy of the Four Hundred would not have arisen. Nor can his first three years of political activity as an Athenian leader in a peculiar speculation - the alliance with Argos and the campaigns in the Peloponnesus - be said to have been in any way beneficial to his country. On the contrary, by developing an offensive game in which he had little power for defense, he allowed the Lacedaemonians to fully recover their reputation and superiority shaken by the important victory at Mantineia. The period of his life that was truly beneficial for his country and truly glorious for himself were the three years that ended with his return to Athens in 407 BC. The results of these three successful years were thwarted by the unexpected descent of Cyrus as satrap: but just at that moment when it fell to Alcibiades to demonstrate a superior level of excellence to fulfill his own promises in the face of this new obstacle, at this critical moment, we discover that it was marred by the unexpected reception it has lately received at Athens, and will fall regrettably short of the ancient merit by which that reception was won.
If we turn from his accomplishments to his inclinations, his ends, and his means, few characters in Greek history show so little appreciation, whether we regard him as a public or a private man. His targets are exorbitant ambition and vanity, his means voracious and relentless, from his first association with Sparta and the Spartan envoys to the end of his career. The maneuvers with which his political enemies initially sought his exile were vile and highly culpable; but we must remember that if his enemies were more numerous and violent than those of any other politician in Athens, the seeds of recovery were sown by his own excessive insolence and disregard of legal and social restraints.
On the other hand, he was never defeated on land or sea. He never lacked courage, ability, initiative, strength to face new people and new situations; Qualities which, together with his high birth, wealth and personal achievements, were sufficient to make him, for the time being, the first man in each successive marriage she married; Athenians, Spartans or Persians; oligarchic or democratic. But he never inspired any of them with lasting confidence; they all threw it away one by one. In general, we shall find few men in whom the excellent abilities of acting and commanding are so deeply tainted by a collection of bad moral qualities as Alcibiades.
CHAPTER 67
THE DRAMA. — Rhetoric and dialectic. - THE SOPHISTS.
Unfortunately, we have little or no information about the political history of Athens in the few years immediately following the restoration of democracy. But in the spring of 399 BC. Between three and four years after the creation of the archon Eukledes, an event of great interest to the intellectual public of Greece, as well as philosophy in general, occurred: the trial, condemnation and execution of Socrates. Before relating this memorable incident, it is well to say a few words about the literary and philosophical character of the time in which it occurred. Although literature and philosophy are now becoming separate departments in Greece, each exerts a marked influence on the other, and the state of dramatic literature is considered one of the causes that directly contributed to Socrates' fate.
During the century of Athenian democracy between Cleisthenes and Eucledes, a dramatic, witty, tragic, and comic development took place unprecedented before or since. Aeschylus, the originator of tragic drama, or at least the first composer to make it famous, was a fighter at both Marathon and Salamis; while Sophocles and Euripides, two eminent followers of him, the first of the generals of the Athenian armor against Samos in 440 B.C. C. at this sad time. Of the numerous compositions of these poets we have but few, but they are sufficient to enable us to appreciate the greatness of Athenian tragedy; and when we find that they were often beaten, though the best of their dramas now remained, in fair competition for the prize against other poets whose names only come down to us, we are justified in supposing that the best productions of these successful contenders, if not were inherently better, they could hardly be worse.
Tragic drama essentially belonged to festivals in honor of the god Dionysus; originally a chorus sung in his honor, to which an iambic monologue was successively added first; then a dialogue with two actors; finally, a regular story with three actors and the chorus intertwined in the scene. His subjects always were, and always have been, divine or heroic figures, transcending the level of historical life and drawn from the so-called mythical past: Aeschylus' Persae is a brilliant exception; but the two analogue dramas of his contemporary Phrynicus, the "Fenissai" and the Capture of Miletus, were not successful enough to invite later tragedians to meddle in contemporary events. To three serious dramas or a trilogy, at first more or less loosely connected by a thematic sequence, but afterwards disconnected and on different subjects, the tragic, by an innovation introduced by Sophocles, if not before, he added a fourth drama or satiric; The characters were satyrs, the companions of the god Dionysus, and other heroic or mythical figures depicted in the farce. Thus, he invented a total of four dramas or a tetralogy, which he edited and submitted to compete for the festival's prize. The cost of training the choir and actors was borne mainly by the Choregi, wealthy commoners, one appointed by each of the ten tribes, whose honor and vanity craved the prize. At first, these exhibitions were held in a temporary setting, with nothing more than wooden supports and scaffolding; but shortly after the year 500 a. On one occasion, when the poets Aeschylus and Pratinas were disputing the prize, this stage gave way during the ceremony, and a deplorable calamity befell. After this calamity, a permanent stone theater was made available. To what extent the project was carried out before Xerxes' invasion we do not exactly know; but after the devastating occupation of Athens, the theater, if there was one previously, had to be rebuilt or renovated along with other damaged parts of the city.
Under that great development of power in Athens which followed the expulsion of Xerxes, the theater and its accessories reached their maximum size and elaboration, and Attic tragedy reached its climax. Sophocles conquered in 468 BC. His first victory over Aeschylus: Euripides' first exhibition took place in 455 BC. The names, unfortunately just the names, of many other competitors have reached our ears: Philokles, who even won the prize over Sophocles' tyrant Oedipus; Euphorion, son of Aeschylus, Xenocles, and Nicomachus, all known to have triumphed over Euripides; Neophron, Ion, Agathon and many more. The continual stream of new tragedies poured out year after year was something new in the history of the Greek spirit. If we could assume that the ten tribes compete for the prize each year, there would be ten tetralogies, or series, each containing four dramas, three tragedies, and a satirical farce, in the Dionysian Festival and as many in the Lenaean. So great a number as sixty new tragedies composed each year is inconceivable; however, we don't know how many competing tetralogies used to exist: there were at least three; for the first, second, and third occur in the didaskalies, or theatrical registers, and there are probably more than three. It was rare to repeat the same drama a second time, except after considerable changes; nor would it be the generosity of a Choregus to refuse the full expense of establishing a new tetralogy. Without claiming to state with numerical precision how many dramas were composed each year, the general fact of an unprecedented abundance in the productions of the tragic muse is authentic and interesting.
And, what is no less important, all this abundance penetrated the minds of the great mass of citizens, including the poorest. The theater is said to have seated thirty thousand people: here again it is uncertain to rely on numerical accuracy, but we cannot doubt that it was spacious enough to give the majority of citizens, rich and poor, ample opportunity to benefit. of these beautiful compositions. At first, admission to the theater was free; but when the crowd of foreigners and freemen was found to be excessive and disorderly, the system of charging a price was adopted, apparently at the time when the permanent theater was being put in order after the destruction caused by Xerxes. The theater was leased by contract to an administrator who undertook to pay all or part of the ordinary expenses incurred by the State in the performance and who was allowed to sell tickets. At first, it seemed that the ticket price was not fixed, so poor citizens were outnumbered and unable to get seats. Consequently, Pericles introduced a new system that valued seats at three obols or half a drachma for the best and one obol for the worst. As there were two days of presentation, tickets for both days were sold for one drachma and two oboli. But to allow poor citizens to participate, two oboli from the public purse were distributed to each citizen, rich or poor, if they so wished, on the occasion of the feast. Thus, a poor man had the means to buy his seat and go to the theater for free both days, if he so wished; or, if he preferred, he could continue for just one day; or you can even stay away and spend the two oboli in other ways. The higher price obtained for the best seats purchased by the richest citizens will here be offset by the sum paid to the poorest citizens; but we do not have data to make the balance, nor can we say how the finances of the State were affected.
Such was the original theorikon, or fixed deposit, introduced by Pericles at Athens; a system of distributing public funds, which was gradually extended to other festivals where there was no theatrical representation, and which in later times reached a mischievous excess; It began at a time when Athens was awash in foreign tribute and continued with increasing demand later, when it was comparatively poor and without external resources. It must be remembered that all these festivals formed a part of ancient religion, and that, according to the sentiments of the time, cheerful and varied gatherings were essential to the satisfaction of the god in whose honor the festival was held. Such expenditure was part of the religious establishment, even more than civil. I will speak, however, of the abusive excesses to which they later arrived in a future volume: I will now deal with the theoricon only in its primitive function and effect of allowing all Athenians to witness the performance of tragedies indiscriminately.
We cannot doubt that the effect of these compositions on public sympathy, as well as on public judgment and intelligence, must have been highly beneficial and uplifting. Though the themes and characters are legendary, the relationships between them are all human and uncomplicated, raised just so far above the level of humanity as to claim the most admiration or pity for the listener. Such a powerful poetic influence has probably never been brought to work on the emotions of any other population; and if we behold the extraordinary beauty of those immortal compositions, which first marked tragedy as a realm apart from poetry, and endowed it with a dignity never before attained, we shall be satisfied with the taste, sentiments, and intellectual level of the Athenian multitude. , must have been appreciably improved and exalted by such teachings. This. The reception of such delights by eyes and ears, and in the midst of a sympathetic crowd, was a fact of great importance in the intellectual history of Athens. This helped spur his imagination with the magnificent buildings and ornaments added to his acropolis in the same period. Like them, and more than them, tragedy was Athens' monopoly; for while tragic composers from other parts of Greece - Achaeus of Eretria and Ion of Chios, at a time when the Athenian Empire encompassed these two places - came there to display their genius, nowhere else were original tragedies composed and performed, though hardly each one was bigger. . city was without theater.
The three great tragedians - Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides - whom both contemporaries and later critics distinguish above all from their competitors, interest us not only for their positive beauties, but also for the differences in treatment, style and feeling between them. and for the way in which these differences illustrate the imperceptible change in the Athenian spirit. Although the objects, people and events of tragedy were still borrowed from the world of legend and therefore remained above the level of contemporary life, the dramatic way in which they were treated is also significantly modified in Sophocles compared to Aeschylus; and even more in Euripides for the atmosphere of democracy, political and judicial struggle and philosophy that surrounds and affects the poet.
In Aeschylus, ideality is no less a treatment than a theme: the passions addressed are masculine and violent, with the exception of Aphrodite and her inspirations: the figures are tall and imposing, but only in the dim light and arranged in shadowed contours: The the speech is full of bold metaphors and abrupt transitions, "magnanimous to the point of error", as Quintilian observes, and often bordering on Oriental vagueness rather than Greek cunning. In Sophocles, the approach to reality and everyday life is apparently clearer: the range of feelings is more diverse, the characters are more clearly visible, the plot is more complete and ostensibly worked out. We have not only a more elaborate dramatic structure, but also a longer dialogue and comparatively simple language like that of the living Greeks: and we also find a certain mixture of rhetorical declamation amidst the greatest poetic beauty that Greek drama ever achieved. But when we come to Euripides, this rhetorical element becomes even clearer and more developed. The supernatural grandeur of legendary characters disappears: love and compassion are invoked to a degree that Aeschylus would have found incompatible with the hero's dignity; there are also appeals to reason and argumentative controversies which this pompous poet would have dismissed as petty and forensic sophistry. And what was worse, judging from the Aeschylian point of view, there was a certain novelty to the speculation, a hint of doubt about prevailing opinion, and an air of scientific sophistication which often spoiled the poetic effect.
Such differences between these three great poets are no doubt due to the later impact of Athenian politics and philosophy on the minds of the two. In Sophocles we can trace the companion of Herodotus; in Euripides, the listener of Anaxagoras, Socrates and Prodicus; both in familiarity with that widespread vernacular language and in the true serious arguments of politicians and contenders before the dicastery, which both always had before their eyes, but which Sophocles' genius knew how to keep in due subordination to his great poetic purpose.
The transformation of Aeschylus' tragic muse into Euripides is all the more remarkable because it shows us how Attic tragedy served as a natural prelude and stimulus to the coming rhetorical and dialectical age. But democracy, thus imperceptibly modifying the tragic drama, has given new life and greater proportions to the comic; both the one and the other were strengthened by the growing prosperity and power of Athens during the half century after 480 BC. Stimulated Not only was the influx of foreigners and visitors to Athens steadily increasing, but it was also easy to find wealthy men to meet the costs of training the choir and actors. There was no way to use the wealth that seemed so apt to bring influence and popularity to its owners as to help add to the splendor of national and religious festivals. This was the general opinion among rich and poor; Nor is there any criticism more unfounded than that which paints such an obligation as hard and oppressive for the rich. In this way, most spent more than required by law to increase their popularity. The only ones who really suffered were the people considered interested in the just administration of justice; for it was a practice which allowed the rise of many wealthy men who lacked personal qualities worthy of it, and gave them an artificial reserve of merit which they could claim before the Dicastery as compensation for substantive offices.
The full splendor of the comic muse came long after the tragic one. Even up to 4G0 v. (at the time Pericles and Ephialtes instituted their constitutional reforms) there was not a single prominent comic poet in Athens; Not a single indisputable Athenian comedy seems to have survived before this date until the time of the Alexandrian critics. Magnes, Krates and Kratinus, probably also Chionides and Ekphantides, all belong to the period beginning around (Olympics 80) 460 BC. that is, the generation before Aristophanes, whose first composition was in 427 a. The status and growth of Attic comedy before this period seems to have been unknown even to Aristotle, who suggests that the comedy chorus was not given a choir by the Archon, nor was it included among the sanctioned celebrations of the festival, until long after the practice has been established. disappeared. established for tragedies. Thus, in this first period, the comic choir was made up of volunteers, without any choir publicly taking charge of bearing the costs of teaching or performing the work; so that there was little occasion for the authors to exercise care or ingenuity in preparing their song, dance, and whimsical monody or dialogue. The exhilarating gaiety of the phallic festival and procession, which the god Dionysus was to enjoy, with full permission to mock all present, and with the simplest coarseness both in language and in ideas, formed the primeval germ which underlay the matured Athenian genius. in ancient times. comedy. . It resembled the satyr drama of tragedies in many respects, but differed from it in that it dealt not only with ancient tales and mythical characters, but mainly with contemporary characters and themes of life in general; Often addressing them under their real names and ridiculing them in the most direct, touching, and mocking ways. We can clearly see the good field that Athens would offer for this type of composition, at a time when political disputes were very intense, when the city had become a center of novelties from all parts of Greece, where the tragedians, rhetoricians and philosophers were in the spotlight and gained disrepute - and when the democratic constitution exposed every detail of political and judicial affairs, as well as all early statesmen, not only to general criticism, but also to rampant slander.
Of all the once rich compositions of Attic comedy, nothing has come down to us, except for eleven works by Aristophanes. This same poet singles out as an honorable mention Magnes, Krates, and Kratinus among the predecessors, whom he calls numerous; just as often, if not consistently, successful. Kratinus appears to have been not only the bulkiest but also the most distinguished of all who preceded Aristophanes, a list which included Hermippus, Teledresses, and other ferocious attackers of Pericles. It was Kratinus who first expanded and systematized the license of the phallic feast and the "carefree laughter of the festive crowd" into a regularly structured drama with three actors, following the analogy of tragedy. Against individuals who were exhibited or denounced by name, with a perversity of personal slurs no less than that of the iambic Archilochus, and with a brusque, dithyrambic style somewhat like Aeschylus, Kratinus entered comedy as one who epochs in tragedy. but he was surpassed by Aristophanes, just as Aeschylus was surpassed by Sophocles. His compositions, we are told, were not only grossly more bitter and slanderous than those of Aristophanes, but also lacked that richness of illustration and felicity of expression which permeates all the latter's intelligence, whether good-natured or malicious. Also in Kratinus, comedy made itself felt for the first time as a substantive actor and supporter of the political struggle in Athens. He supported Cimon's cause against Pericles; praising the former while bitterly ridiculing and slandering the latter. of impiety before the Dicastery. But Aristophanes' testimony shows that no comic writer of Pericles' day could match Kratino, either in slanderous ferocity or in popularity.
It is noteworthy that in 440 B.C. a law was passed prohibiting comic book authors from ridiculing all citizens by name in their compositions; however, that ban was lifted after two years, a hiatus marred by Kratinus's rare phenomenon of indulgent comedy. Such an arrangement meant a struggle in Athenian opinion, even then, against the folly of making the Dionysian festival an occasion for unduly slandering publicly named and probably present citizens. And there was another style of comedy chosen by Krates that differed from the iambic or archiloquial vein of Kratinus, in which comic incidents were linked to fictional characters and woven into a story without real individual names or direct personalities to draw on. This type of comedy, analogous to that which Epicharmus had shown earlier at Syracuse, was continued by Pherocrates as Krates' successor. Although long less popular and less successful than the spicy food served by Kratinus and others, after the end of the Peloponnesian War it finally became popular with the gradual transition from so-called old comedy to middle and new comedy.
But it is in Aristophanes that the genius of the old slanderous comedy appears in its highest perfection. At least we have enough of his works before us to enable us to appreciate their merits; though perhaps Eupolis, Ameipsias, Phrynichus, Plato (Comieus) and others who fought him at festivals alternating victory and defeat would deserve similar praise if we had compositions from him. Probably never again will the full and unbridled power of comedy be so shown. Without actually having Aristophanes before us, it would be impossible to imagine the unbridled and relentless aggression that ancient comedy entailed on gods, institutions, politicians, philosophers, poets, notables and even women, his life was exclusively domestic, from Athens. To this universal freedom with regard to the subject is added a keenness of mockery and satire, a fertility of imagination and a variety of turns of phrase, and a richness of poetic expression which is unsurpassed and which fully explains the admiration for it expressed by the philosopher Plato, who, by the way, must have looked at him with indisputable disapproval. His comedies are popular in the widest sense of the word, addressing all male citizens on a sacred holiday and offering them with a kind of drunkenness the diversion or mockery, composed of anyone or anything that stands out. in some way to the public. .the eyes of advertising. Aristophanes' first comedy was written in 427 BC. and his muse remained prolific for a long time, autographing two of the pieces now surviving, which correspond to a time period eleven years after the 1930s and the Democracy Renewal, circa 392 BC. However, after this remodeling, as I mentioned before, the excessive panache and slanderous personality of the old comedy was gradually broken down: the comic chorus was first shortened and then deleted to make way for what is commonly known as middle comedy, without a chorus. "Plutus" by Aristophanes indicates an approach to this new stage; but his first and most numerous comedies "Acharneis" from 425 BC. to the "frogs" in 405 BC.
Such an abundance of poetry, both tragic and comic, each first class, constituted one of the distinguishing features of Athenian life, and became a mighty instrument for popularizing new combinations of thought with variety and elegance of expression. While the tragic muse offered the still greater advantage of evoking sublime and benevolent sympathies, probably more was lost than gained by the principles of the comic muse; not only to bring out all that was really ridiculous or contemptible in the phenomena of the time, but also to provoke the derisive laughter of the innocent or even meritorious, as well as the innumerable private slurs. Aristophanes' 'Horsemen' and 'Wasps', to say nothing of other works, are nevertheless consistent evidence of a good point in the Athenian character; who bear with gentle indulgence every torrent of derision, and even the attendant slander, upon the democratic institutions to which they are sincerely attached. Democracy was strong enough to tolerate bad tongues, whether serious or playful: the reputation of prominent men in politics, on both sides, could also be taken as a good sign of attack; since this degree of aggressive, protective, and indispensable criticism cannot be admitted without the concomitant, comparatively much lesser, evil of excess and injustice; though here too we might point out that an excess of bitter personality is one of the most conspicuous sins of Athenian literature in general. But the struggle of comedy in the characters of Aristophanes and other composers against philosophy, literature and eloquence in the name of those good old days of ignorance, "when an Athenian sailor knew nothing but to ask for his barley cake and cry, I" . -ho"; and the backward spirit which makes them show moral depravity as a natural consequence of the intellectual progress of the age, are circumstances which go far enough to show an unfavorable and degrading influence of comedy on the Athenian mind.
As regards individual men, and Socrates in particular, the Athenians seem to have been unfavorably influenced by the misapplied wit and genius of Aristophanes in The Clouds, aided by the other comedies of Eupolis and Ameipsias and Eupolis; but in the general march of politics, philosophy or literature these composers had little influence. Nor were they considered in Athens in the light in which modern criticism presents them to us; as men of high morals, severe patriotism, and genuine insight into the true interests of their country; as animated by large and strong visions for the betterment of their fellow citizens, but compelled, by prejudice or opposition, to disguise a keen political philosophy under the veil of satire; as good judges of the most contentious questions, as the prudence of waging war or peace, and as an excellent authority to guide us in the appreciation of the merits or demerits of his contemporaries, because the victims of his pamphlets must be represented as men worthless . There can be no greater misunderstanding of ancient comedy than looking at it from this point of view; yet it is amazing how many later writers, from Diodorus and Plutarch to the present day, have been able to derive their facts from Greek history and their assessments of Greek men, events and institutions from Aristophanes' comedies. As pre-eminent as the latter is in comic genius, his point of view is more determined by the ludicrous associations suggested to his imagination, so that he departs still farther from the terms of a faithful witness or an honest critic. It is performed to elicit mirthful or malicious laughter from the festival crowd gathered to satisfy those emotions, not with the expectation of serious or reasonable impressions. He also doesn't hide how much failure hurts him; as the professional court jester or the "laughter" at the banquets of wealthy Athenians; Parallel to Aristophanes in purpose, but unrivaled in all other respects.
This emergence and development of dramatic poetry in Greece, so abundant, so varied, and so rich in genius, belongs to the fifth century BC. It had been but an unassuming graft on the primitive chorus of the previous century, and was afterwards denounced even by Solon, or in the opinion attributed to Solon, as a malicious novelty tending to - for its false pretense of character, and for its charisma of feelings which did not are genuine or sincere - to corrupt the integrity of human action; an accusation of corruption similar to that made a century later by Aristophanes in his Clouds against physics, rhetoric and dialectics in the person of Socrates. But the characteristics of the transplant surpassed and subordinated those of the original tribe; so that dramatic poetry was now a special form, subject to its own laws, and equal in brilliance, if not superior, to the elegiac, choral, lyric, and epic poetry which formed the earlier stock of the Greek world.
Such changes in poetry or, to speak properly, in literature - because before the year 500 BC. the two expressions were synonymous - from Greece, they were at the same time products, signs and auxiliaries in the expansion of the national spirit. Our minds are now familiar with dramatic combinations which are no longer peculiar to any particular form or condition of political society. But if we take the fifth century B.C. with what preceded it, the newly born drama will be considered an extremely important and impressive novelty: and would certainly have been considered by Solon, the greatest mind of his time, if he had risen a century and a quarter after his death. see Sophocles' Antigone, Euripides' Medea or Aristophanes' Acarneida.
Its novelty is not only in the high level of imagination and judgment required to build a drama that is both regular and effective. This is indeed no small addition to Greek poetic fame in the days of Solon, Alcasus, Sappho, and Stesichorus: but we must remember that the epic structure of the Odyssey, so ancient and so long in the Hellenic world, involves a series of architectural talent equal to that exhibited in Sophocles' more symmetrical drama. The great innovation of the playwrights was the rhetorical, dialectical and ethical spirit that they breathed into their poetry. Of all these, the undeveloped germ was undoubtedly present in earlier epic, lyrical, and gnomish composition; but drama differed from the three in carrying it to a remarkable extent, and making it the substantive means of effect. Instead of relating deeds or suffering suffered, instead of pouring out his own resolute impressions in relation to a specific event or moment, the tragic poet produces the mythical characters themselves to speak, argue, accuse, defend, refute, complain, threaten, advise . , persuade, or placate; between them, but in front of the public. In drama, a singular mistake, nothing is really done: everything is talk; accepting what is done elsewhere as past or past. The dramatic poet, who speaks continuously but through a different character each time, continues the intention of each of his characters through words calculated to affect the other characters and suited to each successive moment. Here are the rhetorical requirements from start to finish: while, since the whole interest of the play is related to an argument or struggle carried on through the speech; because debate, deliberation, and response never cease; Since every character, good or bad, mild or violent, must have appropriate language for defending their actions, attacking or repelling opponents, and generally balancing the relative importance assigned to them, again this is no small feat.
Finally, the strength and variety of ethical sentiments found in Greek tragedy are among the most notable qualities that distinguish it from earlier forms of poetry. "Doing or suffering terrible things" is explained by Aristotle as his true subject; and the Greek tragedians reveal the inner spirit and motives of the perpetrator or victim, allied to ethical interest, with an impressive accuracy that neither the epic nor the lyric can match. Furthermore, the appropriate theme of the tragedy is rife not only with ethical sympathy, but also with ethical debate and speculation. mixture of good and bad characters; different mandatory rules that conflict with each other; Evil done and justified to the conscience of the offender, if not the spectator, by past wrongs suffered, these are all favorite themes of Aeschylus and his two great successors. Clytaemnestra kills her husband Agamemnon on his return from Troy: her defense is that he deserved such treatment at her hands for sacrificing his own daughter Iphigenia. His son Orestes slays here, fully convinced of his duty to avenge his father, and even under Apollo's sanction. A retaliatory Eumenides prosecutes him for the crime, and Aeschylus takes all parties to the Areopagus court, presided over by Athena, where the case is fairly argued, with Eumenides prosecuting and Apollo defending the prisoner, ending a feud. casts his casting vote to acquit Orestes. Again; each must heed the contradictory obligations so movingly pointed out by Sophocles in his beautiful drama of Antigone. Creon orders that Polynices' body be left unburied, as a traitor and new invader of the land: Antigone, sister of Polynices, denounces this prohibition as impious and violates it, with an overwhelming conviction of fraternal duty. After Creon orders her buried alive, her teenage son Haemon, who is betrothed to her, finds himself in an agonizing conflict between detesting such cruelty on the one hand, and submission to his father on the other. Sophocles establishes these two competing rules of duty in an elaborate dialogue scene between father and son. Here are two rules that are sacred and respectable, but one cannot be observed without violating the other. Since a choice must be made, which of the two should a good man obey? This is a point the great poet likes to leave undefined. But if anyone in the audience has the slightest desire for intellectual speculation, there is no way he can stop there without making a mental effort to solve the problem and discover some great and comprehensive principle from which all moral rules proceed; a principle of how you can teach your conscience in those not infrequent cases where two duties collide. The tragic not only appeals more than ever to ethical sensitivity, but with these serious and moving questions it also directs a stimulus and a challenge to the intellect and incites it to ethical speculation.
When we add up all these points, we see how much wider was the intellectual scope of tragedy, and how considerable the intellectual advance it indicates, in comparison with lyric and gnomish poetry or with the Seven Sages and their authoritative aphorisms that formed the glory and marked the frontier of the previous century! Instead of unincreased results, or the mere communication of resolved feelings, we have, even in Aeschylus, the first of the great tragedians, plenty of room for disagreement and debate, a change of point of view, a better or worse case. created for different and competing parties, and a prophecy of the future advent of sovereign and learned reason. Through the middle stage of tragedy, Greek literature entered into the rhetorical, dialectical, and ethical speculation that characterized the fifth century BC.
Other concomitant causes, arising directly from real-life business, contributed to the emergence of these same skills and studies. The fifth century B.C. it is the first century of democracy in Athens, Sicily, and elsewhere: moreover, during this period, beginning with the Ionian Revolt and the Persian invasions of Greece, political relations between one Greek city and another became more complicated and also continuous; it demanded a greater degree of talent from the public men who directed them. Without the ability to persuade or refute, to defend himself against accusations or, as the case may be, to accuse others, no human being could occupy a position of ascendancy. He probably needed this talent no less for private and informal conversations to please his own political supporters than for addressing formally convened public meetings. Even as the commander of an army or fleet without laws of war or professional discipline, his ability to maintain good humour, confidence and prompt obedience from his men depended heavily on his command of the language. Such an achievement was indispensable not only for the leaders of political life. In all democracies —and probably in several governments that were not democracies, but open oligarchies— the courts were more or less numerous, and the process oral and public: especially in Athens were the departments —whose constitution was explained in a previous chapter —. - both very numerous and paid to participate. Every citizen had to appear before it in person, without being able to send a paid lawyer in his place, when he claimed compensation for an injustice committed against him or when he was accused of an injustice by another. Thus there was not a man who could not be condemned or cursed, or fail in his own judgment, even if he were right on his side, unless he possessed some power of speech to present his arguments to the dictates, and refute their falsehoods and falsehoods. . unravel an opponent's sophism. Furthermore, it would be a humiliation for every man of known family and position, hardly less painful than the loss of the cause, to appear before the Dicastery surrounded by friends and enemies, and to feel unable to carry on the thread of a speech without making a statement. pause or stop. confusion. To fulfill these obligations, from which no citizen, rich or poor, was exempt, a certain training in the language became as necessary as a certain training in arms. Without the latter he could not fulfill his duty as a hoplite in the ranks of his country's defense; without the former he could not escape danger to his fortune or honor, and humiliation in the eyes of his friends, if he were called to a dicastery, nor help any of his friends who might be in the same need.
Here, then, were motives sufficient, springing from practical prudence no less than from the stimulation of ambition, to cultivate the power of continual discourse, as well as of concise argument, or question and answer: motives for all, even moderate ability. . in acquiring the use of these weapons; for the ambitious few to work hard and shine as gifted orators.
It must be remembered that such political and social motives, though operating strongly in Athens, were by no means peculiar to Athens, but were more or less prevalent in most Greek cities, especially in Sicily, where all governments met. .later popularized. the fall of the Gelonian dynasty. And in Sicily and Italy arose the first individuals who acquired enduring names in both rhetoric and dialectics: Empedocles of Agrigento in the former; Zenón de Elea, in Italy, in the latter.
These two distinguished men played prominent roles in politics and both on the side of the people; Empedocles against an oligarchy, Zeno against a despot. But both distinguished themselves even more as philosophers, and Zeno's dialectical impulse, if not Empedocles's rhetorical impulse, came more from his philosophy than from his politics. Empedocles (circa 470-440 BC) seems to have been at least, if not partially, associated doctrinally with the scattered philosophers of the League of Pythagoras; whose violent weakening I have recounted at Crotona and elsewhere in an earlier chapter. He constructed a system of physics and cosmogony notable for approaching the doctrine of the four elements for the first time, and expounding it in a poem he himself wrote; moreover, he seems to have much of the mystical tone and wonderful pretensions of Pythagoras; not only professing to cure the plague and other evils, but also teaching how old age may be prevented, and the dead raised from Hades; prophesy; and to raise and still the winds at his will. Gorgias, his pupil, claimed to have been present at the magical ceremonies of Empedocles. The impressive character of his poem is sufficiently confirmed by the admiration of Lucretius, and the rhetoric connected with it may have consisted chiefly of oral instruction or exposition of the same doctrines. Tisias and Corax of Syracuse, who are also mentioned as the first teachers of rhetoric and the first to make known some prescriptions about rhetorical practice, were his contemporaries; and the famous Gorgias was his pupil.
The dialectical movement emanated simultaneously from the Eleatic school of philosophers Zeno and his Samian contemporary Melissus 460-440, if not from their common teacher Parmenides. Melisso, like Zeno and Empedocles, was a respected citizen and a philosopher; after commanding the Sami fleet at the time of the Athenian revolt and in that capacity achieving a victory over the Athenians.
All philosophers of the fifth century BC. BC, before Socrates, inherited from his first poetic predecessors the vast and immeasurable problems that once had been resolved by the assumption of divine or superhuman agents, and the world came, physical and moral, together, and applied their minds to get there they. with a hypothesis that provided an explanation for that totality, or at least appeased his curiosity with what appeared to be an explanation. Of what elements were sensible things made? What was the original cause or principle of these changes which appeared to our senses? What was the change? – Was it the creation of something completely new and the destruction of something pre-existing? Or was it a breaking and recombining of elements that was still ongoing? The theories of various Ionian philosophers, and of Empedocles after them, admitting one, two, or four elementary substances with friendship and enmity to serve as causes of motion or change; the homeomerías of Anaxagoras with the nous or intelligence as agitating and regulating medium; the atoms and vacuum of Leucippus and Democritus were different hypotheses responding to a similar line of thought. All of them, though supposing the perceptible appearances of things to be misleading and confusing, were more or less directly borrowed from some of those appearances which served to explain and illustrate the whole theory, and served to render it plausible when established. as well as to defend against attacks. But the philosophers of the Eleatic school - first Xenophanes and then Parmenides - went their own way. To find the real, which, as it were, was hidden behind or under the misleading sensory phenomena, they had recourse only to mental abstractions. They assumed a substance or something not perceptible to the senses, but thinkable or conceivable only by reason; a one and all, continuous and finite, which not only really existed in itself, but was the only reality; eternal, immovable and unchanging and the only knowable matter. Sense phenomena which began and ended one after the other, they thought, were intrinsically illusory, uncertain, mutually contradictory, and open to infinite divergence. However, they announced a statement about it; Adoption of two elements, heat and cold or light and dark.
Parmenides expounded this doctrine of one and whole in a poem of which only fragments remain, so that we have a very imperfect understanding of the positive arguments used to recommend it. The question of truth and knowledge, as only he admitted, was completely removed from the senses and stripped of all sensuous qualities, to be interpreted only as an ens rationalis, and to be described and discussed only in the most general terms of language. The account given by Parmenides in his poem, though supplemented by Plato, was hotly contested by others, who inferred from it many contradictions and absurdities. As part of his response, and certainly the strongest part, Parmenides responded to his opponents; an example followed with greater insight and success by his pupil Zeno. Those who refute his ontological theory that the real, ultraphenomenal substance is One, assert that it is not One, but Many; divisible, movable, mutable, etc. Zeno attacked this last theory and showed that it led to contradictions and absurdities even greater than those of Parmenides' theorem. He disputed the testimony, claiming that it provided premises for contradictory conclusions and that it was not credible. Parmenides had denied that there was a real change of place or color: Zeno held that change of place or motion was impossible and contradictory; they present many logical difficulties derived from the infinite divisibility of matter in the face of some of the most obvious claims about sensible phenomena. Melisso seems to have argued similarly to Zeno, though with much less wit; indirectly demonstrate the teaching of Parmenides by deriving impossible conclusions from the opposite hypothesis.
Zeno published a treatise to defend the thesis sketched above, which he also defended by conversation and personal discussion much more effectively than his writings; the oral teaching of these early philosophers is its most impressive manifestation. His subtle dialectical arguments were not only sufficient to occupy all the philosophers of antiquity in refuting them with more or less success, but they have descended into modern times like an unquenchable fire. The great effect which his writings and conversations produced on the speculative minds of Greece is attested by Plato and Aristotle. He visited Athens, tutored some eminent Athenians for high salaries, and is said to have talked with Pericles and Socrates when the latter was very young; probably between 450-440 BC.
Its appearance marks a remarkable era in Greek philosophy because it revealed for the first time the extraordinarily aggressive or negative power of the dialectical method. In this discussion of the one and the many, positive reasons were equally scarce on both sides: each side had to present the contradictions that could be deduced from the contrary hypothesis, and Zeno wanted to show that those of his opponents were the most obvious. We see, then, that with the methodical question-answer or dialectic method, which from now on will be increasingly used in philosophical investigations, the negative tendency, the power of proof, proof and verification of Greek speculation, comes to the fore. shine first. Same time. The negative side of Greek speculation stands out and occupies as great a measure of the intellectual power of its philosophers as the positive side. It is not easy to arrive at a conclusion, supported by some measure of plausible premise, and then proclaim it as authoritative dogma, silencing or downplaying all objections, which is what Greek speculation aspires to. Discredit not only positive falsehood, but even assertions without proof, overconfidence in the doubtful and the demonstration of knowledge without reality; looking at a problem from all angles and raising all the difficulties to solve it, considering the conclusions drawn from positive evidence, even in the case of conclusions accepted as true on balance, all this will permeate the march of its greatest thinkers. It is no less important, as a condition of all progressive philosophy, that the reasons for negation be freely expounded than those for affirmation. We will find that the two go hand in hand, and the negative trait is indeed the more striking and distinctive of the two, from Zeno down to our history. In one of the first memoranda that illustrate Greek dialectics —the sentences in which Plato presents Parmenides and Zeno as bequeathing his mantle to the young Socrates and gives him recipes for the successful continuation of those investigations that his clear investigative impulse promised— comprehensive approaches are firmly instilled. He is admonished to imagine every hypothesis on both sides and to follow both negative and positive lines of argument with equal tenacity and equal scrutiny; neither intimidated by the negative opinions around him, nor deterred by the contempt of wasting time in fruitless conversations; for the multitude do not know that, without circumnavigating all sides of an issue, no secure understanding of the truth can be reached.
This is how we find ourselves since the year 450 BC. BC in the presence of two important classes of men in Greece unknown to Solon or even to Cleisthenes, the rhetoricians and the dialecticians; for which, as has been shown, the ground was gradually prepared by the politics, poetry, and speculation of the preceding period.
Both novelties, like the poetry and other achievements of this memorable career, came from rough native beginnings, under native encouragement, without borrowing and without outside help. Rhetorical instruction was an attempt to help and improve people in power through continuous speech addressed to assembled figures such as the public assembly or the dicastery; It was, therefore, a modality of education sought by men of aspiration and active ambition, either to succeed in public life or to defend their rights and dignity when brought to justice. On the other hand, the issue of dialectics had no direct bearing on public life, court arguments, or any large crowd assembled. It was a dialogue conducted by two disputants, usually in front of a few listeners, to discover something that was not clear, to silence the respondent and disagree, to exercise mastery of the issue on both sides, or to analyze the consequences of a problematic situation. assumption. . . It was an improvised conversation that was systematized and turned into a predetermined channel; provide food for thought and a means of improvement that otherwise would not be possible; Establishment for some also source of profit or exposure. He opened a range of serious intellectual pursuits to men of a speculative or curious bent, who lacked the voice, audacity, and continuous memory for public speaking; or that he wanted to escape the political and judicial animosities of the moment.
Although there were numerous Athenians who combined speculative and practical scholarship in varying proportions, generally the two strands of the intellectual movement—one oriented toward active public affairs, the other oriented toward expanded opinion and a greater grasp of speculative truth with its evidence—continued simultaneously and separately. Between them there was a constant contentious controversy and a spirit of mutual contempt. If Plato looked down on sophists and rhetoricians, Isocrates feels no less justified in looking down on those who engaged in debating the unity or plurality of virtue. Even between different professors, even on the same intellectual path, a bitter feeling of personal rivalry often reigned, which made them even more subject to attack by the common enemy of all intellectual progress; Feeling of jealous ignorance, stationary or looking back longingly, no small force in Athens, as in any other society, and naturally mixed in Athens with native democratic feeling. This last feeling of aversion to new ideas and new intellectual achievements was elevated to an artificial meaning by the comic genius Aristophanes, whose point of view modern authors have often accepted; So they allowed some of the worst feelings of ancient Greece to influence their way of perceiving events. Moreover, they paid little attention to that force of literary and philosophical antipathy, which in Athens was no less real and constant than politics; and that he constantly caused the various literary classes or individuals to become unjust. It was the blessing and glory of Athens that every human being was able to express his feelings and his criticisms with a freedom unparalleled in the ancient world and scarcely equaled even in the modern age, where always and everywhere there are a great many doomed disagreements. . .to absolute silence. But this familiar scope of criticism should have imposed an imperative on modern writers not to implicitly accept someone's criticism when the accused party has not defended itself; at least interpret the censorship strictly and take into account the point of view from which it comes. By neglecting this necessity, almost every thing and person in Greek history is presented from its bad side; the slanders of Aristophanes, the taunts of Plato and Xenophon, even the selfish generalities of a plaintiff or accused before the dicastery are taken with little question as authentic material for history.
If ever it was necessary to invoke that rare sense of directness, it is when we are discussing the history of people called sophists, who are now important for the first time; the practical teachers of Athens and Greece, misunderstood and despised.
Primitive education in Athens consisted of two branches; gymnastics for the body; music for the spirit The word music should not be judged by the limited meaning it now has. From the beginning it included everything related to the territory of the Nine Muses; not just learning to play the lyre or joining a choir; but also by listening, learning and repeating poetic compositions, as well as by practicing exact and elegant pronunciation; This last feat must have been much more difficult to achieve in a language like Greek, with long words, metered syllables and a wide variety of accents between words, than in any modern European language. As the circle of ideas expanded, the words music and music teacher acquired a broader meaning to understand the subject more fully and diversified at the same time. In the middle of the 5th century BC. Thus, in Athens there were men of remarkable talent and reputation among teachers of music; Masters of all the studies and achievements of the time, teaching what was known in astronomy, geography and physics, and able to engage in dialectical discussions with their students about all the various problems then circulating among intellectuals. Of this character were Lamprus, Agathocles, Pythokledes, Damon, &c. These last two were teachers of Pericles; and Damon became so hated in Athens, partly on account of his large and free speculations, partly on account of his great pupil's political enemies, that he was ostracized, or at least condemned to exile. These men were able companions of Anaxagoras and Zeno, and were employed in part in the same studies; The acquired knowledge field is then not large enough to be divided into separate and exclusive compartments. While Euripides was visiting the Company and becoming acquainted with the views of Anaxagoras, Ion of Chios, his rival as a tragic poet, as well as a friend of Cimon, devoted as much thought to physical matters as when he had ceased to do so. . develop your own theory, which teaches the doctrine of the three elements of nature; air, fire and earth.
Now such masters of music as Damon and the others mentioned above were sophists, not only in the natural and proper Greek sense of the word, but to some extent in the particular and restricted sense which Plato later found appropriate. A sophist in the truest sense of the word was a wise man, an intelligent man; someone who stood out in front of the public because he stood out for intellect or some kind of talent. Thus Solon and Pythagoras are called sophists; Thamyras, the able bard, is called a sophist: Socrates is so called not only by Aristophanes, but also by Aeschines; Aristotle himself calls Aristippus and Xenophon Antisthenes, both disciples of Socrates, by this name; Xenophon, describing a collection of instructive books, calls them "the writings of the ancient poets and sophists," the last word meaning prose writers generally; Plato is called a sophist even by Isocrates; Isocrates himself has been heavily criticized as a sophist and defends himself and his profession: Timon, friend and admirer of Pyrrhus, circa 300-280 BC. under the general name of Sophists. It is in this broad and inclusive sense that the word was originally used and has always been understood by the general public. But along with that idea, the title Sophist also carried or evoked a certain insidious feeling. The natural temper of a people generally ignorant of superior intellect - the same temper which gave rise to those accusations of magic so common in the Middle Ages - seems to be a union of admiration with some unfavorable feeling; Disgust or apprehension, as the case may be, unless the last element has been neutralized by habitual respect for an established profession or position: in either case, the unpleasant feeling is so often intentional that a noun word in which it is unnecessarily suddenly a predicate adjunct it seems convenient. Timon, who hated philosophers, found the perfect sophist word, both in sentiment and spirit, to address them.
Now, when (after 450 B.C.) professors of rhetoric and music began to appear before the Athenian public in as much esteem, of course, as other intellectually famous men, they were properly called Sophists. But there was a quality about them which made them invoke in double measure that rancor inherent in the name. They taught for money; naturally, therefore, the most illustrious among them taught only the rich, and earned large sums; a fact which, of course, arouses envy to some extent among the many who have not benefited thereby, but still more among the inferior members of their own class. But even such great minds as Socrates and Plato, though far superior to such envy, at this time harbored a genuine and violent aversion to dues. We read in Xenophon that Socrates saw such treatment as nothing less than servitude, depriving the master of any free choice as to persons or procedures; and that he adapted the relation between teacher and pupil to that of two lovers or two intimate friends; utterly disgraced, robbed of its charm and reciprocity, and prevented from obtaining its due rewards of attachment and devotion through monetary payments. So out of step with modern ideas was the scrupulousness of Socrates and Plato; who, therefore, regarded the name Sophist, denoting intellectual fame combined with a hated association, as eminently suitable for leading paid teachers. The great genius, enduring influence, and repeated polemics of Plato impressed this upon the men against whom he wrote, as if it were his recognized, legitimate, and proper designation: though it is true that he was in the midst during the Peloponnesian War all Athenian se he asked: "Who are the most important sophists in your city?", he would have named Socrates among the first; for Socrates was an excellent teacher intellectually and personally unpopular, not because he was paid, but for other reasons to be noted later: and this was precisely the combination of qualities which the general public naturally expressed in a sophist. Furthermore, Plato not only stole the name from general circulation to attribute it specifically to his opponents, the paid teachers, but he also expressed associated discrediting qualities that were not part of its original and accepted meaning, but were in no way distinct from it. , though grafted , the vague feeling of disgust that accompanies it. Aristotle, following the example of his teacher, gave the word sophist a definition essentially analogous to that which it has in modern languages: 'an imposter who pretends to know; a man who uses what he knows to be deceit for the purpose of cheating and making money." And he did so at a time when, even with his esteemed contemporary Isocrates, he was considered a sophist in Athens, and was called so by all whom he met. he liked neither his profession nor his person.
Great thinkers and writers like Plato and Aristotle have every right to define and use words in their own sense, provided they announce it in time. But it is important that the reader bear in mind the implications of such a change and not confuse a word used in a new sense with a new fact or phenomenon. The time that interests us now, the last half of the 5th century B.C. B.C., is commonly known in the history of philosophy as the age of Socrates and the Sophists. The Sophists are spoken of as a new class of men, or sometimes in language implying a new doctrinal school or sect, as if they had first appeared in Greece; conspicuous crooks who flatter and deceive wealthy young men for personal gain; Undermining Athena's public and private morality and encouraging its students to ruthlessly pursue ambition and greed. It is even claimed that they succeeded in corrupting general morale, so that by the last years of the Peloponnesian War Athens had become pathetically degenerate and cruel compared to the times of Miltiades and Aristides. Socrates, on the other hand, is often depicted as a holy man who fights and exposes these false prophets and stands up as a defender of morality against their insidious tricks. Now, although the appearance of such an original man as Socrates was a new fact of indescribable importance, the appearance of the sophists was not a new fact; what was new was the peculiar use of an ancient word, which Plato took from its ordinary meaning and attributed to the eminent heathen teachers of the Socratic age.
The paid tutors with whom he disputed Socrates under the name of The Sophists were Protagoras of Abdera, Gorgias of Leontini, Polo of Agrigentum, Hippias of Elis, Prodicus of Keos, Thrasymachus of Chalcedon, Euthydemus, and Dionysius of Chios; to which Xenophon adds Antiphon of Athens. These men, whom modern writers portray as sophists and denounce as the moral plague of their time, did not differ markedly or generally from their predecessors in the achievements of active life, both private and public. Others had done it before; But these professors brought a broader range of knowledge to the task, with a wider range of scientific and other topics; not only more impressive writing and oratory skills, which serve as a personal example for the student, but also an understanding of the elements of a good speech to give you prescriptions conducive to this achievement; a considerable body of accumulated thoughts on moral and political subjects, calculated to make your conversation more instructive, and a prepared speech, on general subjects or general places, for your pupils to memorize. But that, while it was a very important expansion, was nothing more than an expansion that differed only in degree from what Damon and others had done before them. It arose from the growing demand that had grown up among Athenian youth for a higher level of education and other benefits; to raise the level of what was required of every man who aspired to occupy a place in the eyes of his fellow citizens. Protagoras, Gorgias, and the others answered this demand with skill and success unknown before their time; therefore they achieved a distinction which none of their predecessors had achieved, they were esteemed throughout Greece, they traveled from city to city with general admiration, and they received considerable rewards. While such success among men who were strangers to them unequivocally attests to their talent and personal dignity, it naturally also made them liable to increased jealousy both on the part of lesser teachers and lovers of ignorance in general: jealousy which manifested itself, as Eu fiz. I explained above, by a greater disposition of carimba-los as the detestable title of sophist.
Plato's animosity towards these teachers - for it was he, not Socrates, who was particularly hostile to them, as can be seen from the absence of such a clear contrast in Xenophon's recollections - cannot be explained at all by assuming that corruption in them, which modern writers so willingly not only admit, but magnify. It arose from the radical difference between his point of view and hers. He was a great reformer and theorist; They undertook to train young people to glorify themselves and serve others in active Athenian life. In every progressive society, not only is there room for the simultaneous work of these two tendencies of thought and action, but the intellectual endowment of society can never be complete without both. It was to the glory of Athens that both were adequately represented there at the time we have arrived. Anyone who reads Plato's immortal work, The Republic, will find that he departed from democratic and oligarchic society on some of the most fundamental points of public and private morality; and during most of his dialogues his quarrel is no less with statesmen, both past and present, than with the paid teachers of Athens. In addition to this burning desire for a radical reform of the state in accordance with his own principles, distinct from any recognized political party or creed, Plato was also unrivaled as a speculative and dialectical genius; both the skills he brought to expand and exemplify the ethical theory and method first expounded by Socrates and to establish his own overarching generalities.
Now his reforming and theorizing tendencies brought him into contentious disputes with all the main agents directing the affairs of practical life in Athens. In so far as Protagoras or Gorgias spoke the language of theory, they were undoubtedly far inferior to Plato, and their teachings could hardly withstand his astute dialectic. But it was not their duty or mandate to reform the state or to discover and defend the best theory of ethics. They intended to qualify Athenian youth for an active and honorable life, both private and public, in Athens or any other city; they were taught in Athens "to think, speak, and act"; They, of course, accepted as the basis of their doctrine that type of character exhibited by good men and approved by the Athenian public; not to transform the type, but to equip it with new abilities and decorate it with new achievements. His direct business lacked ethical principles. with ethical theory; all that was required of them in regard to the latter was that their theory should be sound enough to lead to such practical imperatives as the most distinguished society of Athens found virtuous. It must never be forgotten that those who taught for active life were obliged by the conditions of their profession to adapt to the place and society as it existed. With the theoretician Plato, not only was there no such obligation, but the greatness and power of his speculations were only recognized by turning away from them and standing on a higher pinnacle of vision; and he himself1 not only admits, but even exaggerates, the ineptitude and aversion to life and practical duties of the men taught in his school.
To understand the essential difference between the practical and the theoretical point of view, one need only look to Isocrates, a disciple of Gorgias and himself a sophist. Although Isocrates was not a man of imperious ability, he was one of the most respected men in ancient Greece. He taught for money; and he taught the youth to "think, speak, and act," all with a view to an honorable life as active citizens; He does not hide his marked disdain for speculative studies and debates, such as Plato's dialogues and dialectical exercises in general. He defends his profession as much as his master Gorgias or Protagoras would have defended it if we had before us the justifications of his penalty. Isocrates in Athens and Quintilian, an equally worthy man in Rome, are in their general class of character and professional duty the excellent counterpart of those whom Plato charges with sophists.
We know the latter mainly from the testimonies of Plato, his declared enemy; but even proofs of it, if openly declared and taken together, will not be found to justify the charges of corrupt and immoral doctrine, of fallacious claims to knowledge, etc., which modern historians sing against them. I know of few people in history who have been treated as badly as these so-called sophists. They bear his name in the modern sense; a misleading association from which few modern writers care to emancipate themselves or their readers, though the English or French word sophist is wholly inapplicable to Protagoras or Gorgias, who ought to be called "teachers or public teachers." It is really astonishing to read the statements that scholars like Stallbaum and other prologan in the Platonic dialogues titled Protagoras, Gorgias, Euthydemus, Theaetetus, etc. your opinion. We continue to read from the expositor's pen comments like these: "Note how Plato makes the sophist superficial and useless"; the obvious consideration that it is Plato himself who plays both games on the chessboard is completely ignored: And again: "This or that argument put into Socrates' mouth must not be taken as Plato's real opinion: he just takes it ". and imposes it at that moment to confuse and humiliate an alleged demonstrative statement that makes Plato an insincere contestant and a sophist in the modern sense at the very moment when the commentator extols his purity and his sublime morals as an antidote to supposed corruption. of Gorgias and Protagoras.
Plato devoted a long and interesting dialogue to the question "What is a sophist?" and it is galling to note that the definition he finally produces fits Socrates himself intellectually better than anyone else we know. Cicero defines the sophist as someone who follows philosophy in order to boast or conquer; which, if it is to be taken as a reproach, will doubtless overwhelm the great mass of modern teachers who are determined to take up their profession and perform their important functions, like other professionals, with the prospect of earning an income or having a share in it to play, or both, whether they like the activity or not. But modern writers, in describing Protagoras or Gorgias, using Plato's mocking language against teaching for money, base ends, tricks to get money from the rich, etc., use expressions that make the reader believe that something in this is what these sophists wanted. have. they were particularly greedy, exorbitant and capricious; something that goes beyond the mere fact of requesting and receiving compensation. Now, not only is there no evidence that any of them were as dishonest or excessive, but in the case of Protagoras even his enemy Plato provides evidence that he was not in terms of pay as his pupils were. “I make no specification beforehand: if a student leaves me, I will ask him for the amount I deem appropriate at the time and according to the circumstances; and I add that if you think the demand is too great, you just have to decide for yourself how much improvement my company has purchased for you and what amount you consider equivalent. I am happy to accept the amount he asks and I only ask that you go to a temple and take an oath that is your sincere belief.” It is not easy to imagine a more dignified manner of dealing than this, but one which attests honorable trust more fully. the student's inner conscience to the feeling of gratitude for the improvement achieved, which is for every teacher a reward little less than the payment that comes from him, and which, according to Socrates, is the only legitimate reward. This is not how the corrupters of mankind operate.
The highlight of the teaching of Gorgias and the other sophists was that they cultivated and strengthened the power of the public; talk to your students; one of the most essential achievements for any outstanding Athenian. Also for this reason, they have been denounced as corrupt and immoral by Ritter, Brandis, and other scholars in the history of philosophy. By teaching their students rhetoric (so it has been said), they only allowed them to support unjust intentions, make the worst appear to be a better reason, and mislead and mislead their hearers into false beliefs and displays of knowledge without reality. Rhetoric (Plato argues in the dialogue called the Gorgias) is not art, but a mere unscientific contraption enslaved to prevailing prejudices, and nothing better than a pompous parody of true political art. When Aristotle now calls this power of making the worst seem better, following Plato, "the promise of Protagoras," the charge must never be made that it particularly affects the teachers of the Socratic age. It is an argument against teaching rhetoric in general; against all the principal teachers of students for active life throughout the ancient world, from Protagoras, Gorgias, Isocrates, etc., to Quintilian. The argument not only applies equally against everyone, but has actually been made against everyone. Isocrates and Quintilian defend themselves against this; Aristotle answers this at the beginning of his treatise on rhetoric; nor was there a man against whom calumny was more bitterly pressed than Socrates, by Aristophanes in his Comedy of the Clouds, as well as by other comic composers. Socrates complains of this in his defense before his judges; Characterizing such allegations in their true perspective as "root accusations against the evils that practice philosophy". They are, in fact, only one of the manifestations, always different in form, but alike in spirit, of ignorance's antipathy to deviant innovations or superior intellectual achievements; what an aversion even intellectual men, when she takes their side in a controversy, are ready to appeal to her. Since we have here both defensive and offensive material from Socrates and Plato, one would expect modern writers to refrain from using such an argument to discredit Gorgias or Protagoras; rather, as envisaged in all countries of modern Europe, the profession of lawyers and solicitors, who indiscriminately devote their powerful eloquence to the cause of good or evil, and who are far from being regarded as corrupters of society. This is one of the reasons why they are considered essential aids in the just administration of justice.
Though writing was less the business of these sophists than personal instruction, some of them published treatises. Thrasymachus and Theodore lay down written precepts on the art of rhetoric; Commandments which have not come down to us, but which seem to have been narrow and specific, directly related to practice, and primarily concerned with the actual parts of a speech. To Aristotle, who reached that great and complete view of the theory of rhetoric which his great treatise will teach us, the opinions of Thrasymachus seemed unimportant, serving him only as pointers and materials. But their effect must have been very different when they first appeared and when young people were allowed to analyze the parts of a speech, understand their interdependence, and call them by their proper names; Let's remember, everything illustrated by the Master's oral explanations, which was the most impressive of all.
Prodicus, in turn, published one or more treatises intended to explain the ambiguity of words and to point out the different meanings of terms that appear but are not really equivalent. Plato often ridicules him for this, and modern historians of philosophy generally find it appropriate to adopt the same tone. We cannot judge whether the execution of the work was entirely adequate to its purpose; but certainly the purpose was eminently calculated to help Greek thinkers and dialecticians; for no one can study their philosophy without seeing how regrettably they were injured by slavery to popular phraseology and inferences based on mere verbal analogy. In an age when neither dictionary nor grammar existed, a professor who concerned himself, even scrupulously, with the meaning of the important words of his discourse, must be considered as directing the thoughts of his hearers in a healthy direction; healthy, we might add, even for Plato himself, whose speculations would no doubt have been reinforced by the occasional suggestion of such a monitor.
Protagoras is also said to have been the first to distinguish and name the various types and forms of address, an analysis well calculated to support his lessons on correct speech1: he also seems to have been the first to distinguish the three noun genders. . We keep hearing about a treatise he wrote on wrestling, or probably gymnastics in general, and a collection of controversial dialogues. But his most famous treatise was entitled "Truth", apparently on philosophy in general. We do not even know the scope or general content of this treaty. In one of his treatises, he confessed his inability to convince himself of the existence of the gods, saying: “As for the gods, I do not know whether they exist, or what their qualities are; the uncertainty of the matter, the brevity of human life, and many other causes exclude me from that attainment.” That the public of Athenian faith was gravely indignant at this passage, and that the author was threatened with prosecution and forced to leave Athens, we can well understand; although there doesn't seem to be enough evidence for the story that he drowned on his outward journey. But that modern historians of philosophy, who consider fictitious heathen gods and religion repugnant to any sane mind, should denounce Protagoras as a corrupt man on that account, seems less understandable to me. Xenophanes and probably many other philosophers before him said the same thing. Nor is it easy to see what a superior man should do who could not adjust his level of belief to such fictions; or what he might say, if he said anything, less than the words of Protagoras quoted above; which, so far as we know, are without context, as if they were a brief mention, in humble and circumspect terms, of the reason why he said nothing about the gods, in a treatise where the reader would expect to find much on the subject. in the Platonic dialogue called "Protagoras" this sophist is introduced, speaking of the gods just as any orthodox pagan would naturally suppose.
The other surviving fragment of Protagoras relates to his view of the process of knowledge and of truth in general. He taught that “man is the measure of all things; both of what exists and of what does not exist”, a doctrine raised and discussed by Plato, who maintains that Protagoras affirmed that knowledge consists of sensations and that the sensations of each individual are for him the canon and the measure of truth. We know little of the explanations or qualifications with which Protagoras may have accompanied his general position; and if even Plato, who might have known them well, thought it dishonorable to insult an orphan doctrine whose father had recently died and could no longer defend it, modern authors, speaking before them with mere proofs, should do much more. Beware, they heap insults on the same doctrine far beyond those acknowledged by Plato. As far as we can claim to understand the theory, it was certainly not more wrong than some others then afloat, from the Eleatic school and other philosophers; while he had the merit, albeit erroneously, of clearly emphasizing the essentially relative nature of cognition, which certainly concerns not only the sensible faculty, but that which is reinforced by the other human faculties of memory and reason. . And if it were even more erroneous than it really is, there would be no foundation for the accusations made by modern authors against the morals of Protagoras. Such attributions are not supported by the discussion devoted to Plato's doctrine; indeed, if the justification he adduces for Protagoras against himself were really attributed to this sophist, he would attach exaggerated importance to the distinction between good and evil, of which the distinction between truth and falsehood of the Platonic Protagoras belongs as resolvable. . The later theories of knowledge by Plato and Aristotle were much more systematic and elaborate, the work of men far superior in speculative genius to Protagoras, but they would not have become what they were if Protagoras and others had not preceded them, with proposals that are more partial. and imperfect.
A short essay by Gorgias on a metaphysical thesis survives, preserved in one of the Aristotelian or pseudo-Aristotelian treatises. It tries to demonstrate that nothing exists, that if something exists, it is unknowable; and even if he allowed it to exist and be recognizable by anyone, he could never communicate it to others. Modern historians of philosophy here prefer the easier task of denouncing the sophist's skepticism, rather than doing their duty to state his thesis in immediate succession with the speculations that preceded it. In our sense of the word it is a monstrous paradox: but when interpreted in its legitimate descent from the Eleatic philosophers immediately before him, it is a plausible, not to say conclusive, deduction from principles which they would have recognized. The word existence, as they understood it, did not mean phenomenal existence, but ultra-phenomenal existence. They saw sensory phenomena as constantly coming and going, something essentially transient, fluctuating, uncertainly knowable, and at best open to conjecture. They sought through thought what they believed to be something or substance that actually existed:Name, to use a Kantian expression, behind or below the phenomena thatNamethey recognized as the only appropriate field of knowledge. They argued a great deal, as I observed before, whether it was one or many; singular number or plural number. Now Gorgias' thesis was related to this ultra-phenomenal existence and was closely based on the arguments of Zeno and Melissus, the Eleatic thinkers of his earliest contemporaries. He denied that such an ultraphenomenal thing or noumenon existed or could be known or described. Of this tripartite thesis, the first denial was neither more nor less untenable than those of philosophers who had argued in the affirmative before him: his conclusions on the last two points were neither paradoxical nor overly skeptical, but perfectly correct, and were confirmed by the abandonment gradual development of such ultra-phenomenal investigations is confirmed among most philosophers, stated or implied. It may be supposed that Gorgias exhorted these teachings with a view to diverting his pupils from studies which he considered useless and fruitless, in the same way that we shall later find his pupil Isocrates applying the same opinion, and speculations of this kind discourage public recommendation. Oral exercises to prepare for the role of an active citizen. Nor should we forget that Socrates himself discouraged physical speculation even more decisively than any of them.
If the reproaches against the supposed skepticism of Gorgias and Protagoras are partly without sufficient justification, partly without any justification at all, much more the same remark may be made in regard to the more serious charges leveled against their doctrine of immorality or corruption. It is common for recent German historians of philosophy to translate from Plato and a friend called "Die Sophistik", which they claim to have poisoned and demoralized the Athenian moral character through corrupt doctrine, so that he disguised it at the end of the War of the Peloponnesus in the Degenerate. compared with the time of Miltiades and Aristeides.
Well, first of all, if the abstraction "The Sophists" is to have any particular meaning, we must have evidence that the people who call themselves sophists had some common and different doctrine, principle, or method which distinguishes them all. But such an assumption is incorrect; there were no such common doctrines or principles or methods belonging to them; even the name by which they are known belonged only to Socrates and others; they had nothing in common except their profession, as paid teachers, training the youth to "think, speak, and act," is the words of Isocrates, and no better word could be found when he regards himself as an honorable citizen. Moreover, such professional association did not then involve as much analogy in character as it does today, where the nature trail has become a wide visible country road with measured distances and fixed intervals; Protagoras and Gorgias found predecessors, but no precedent authorized to copy; so that each one more or less followed his path. And consequently we find Plato in his dialogue called "Protagoras," in which Protagoras, Prodicus, and Hippias are introduced, each giving a different kind of character and method, not without a strong mixture of mutual jealousy between them; while Thrasymachus in the Republic and Euthydemus in the so-called Dialogue are again painted, each in its own colors distinct from the previous three. We have not the slightest reason to believe that Gorgias agreed with Protagoras' opinion: "man is the measure of all things", and we can even infer from Plato himself that Protagoras would have contradicted Thrasymachus' opinions in the first book The Republic. It is therefore impossible to say anything about doctrines, methods, or tendencies common and peculiar to all sophists. There were none; also the abstract word "The Sophistry" has no true meaning, except for those qualities, whatever they may be, which are inseparable from the vocation or vocation of public teaching. And if every honest critic was now ashamed to radically slander the entire mass of professional teachers, such a reproach would be even more inappropriate in relation to the ancient sophists, who differed from each other in stronger individual peculiarities.
So, if it were true that in the period between 480 B.C. and the end of the Peloponnesian War, a great moral decline in Athens and Greece generally, we must look for a different cause of that imaginary abstraction called sophistry. But - and this is the second point - the fact here asserted is as false as the supposed cause is unreal. Athens was no more corrupt at the end of the Peloponnesian War than Athens was in the days of Miltiades and Aristeides. If we go back to this earlier period, we find that scarcely any act of the Athenian people has aroused more censure - undeservedly, in my opinion - than the treatment meted out to these two statesmen; the condemnation of Miltiades and the ostracism of Aristeides. In writing my history at this time, far from finding earlier historians inclined to ascribe public virtue to the Athenians, I was forced to deal with a great deal of negative criticism, accusing them of gross ingratitude and injustice. Thus the contemporaries of Miltiades and Aristeides, when mentioned as subjects of contemporary history, are portrayed in anything but flattering colors; except for his bravery at Marathon and Salamis, which has unanimous praise. But when the same men are numbered among the mass of memories and fantasies of the past, when a future generation is present with its good supply of complaints and denunciations, then men delight in disguising themselves in the virtues of the past, like an earl in power. . against his own contemporaries. Aristophanes, writing during the Peloponnesian War, denounced the demos of his day as degenerating from the virtue of the demos surrounding Miltiades and Aristides; while Isocrates, an old man between 350 and 340 B.C. C., took advantage of his time and boasted how much better the condition of Athens was in his youth: this period of his youth fits exactly in the life of Aristophanes, in the last half of the century. the Peloponnesian War.
Such illusions must not intrude on anyone without a careful comparison of the facts; and certainly this comparison will not support the claim of increased corruption and degeneracy between the age of Miltiades and the end of the Peloponnesian War. In all Athenian history there are no acts that testify to such a measure of virtue and discernment that it invaded the entire people as the proceedings after the Four Hundred and after the Thirty. Nor do I believe that Miltiades' contemporaries would be capable of such heroism; for this designation is not very large for the case. I doubt if they were capable of the constant self-denial of keeping a large sum in reserve during peacetime, both before the Peloponnesian War and after the Peace of Nicias; or withholding the thousand talent reserve fund while being forced to pay taxes to support the war; or implement the prudent but painfully difficult policy recommended by Pericles to sustain an annual invasion without going to war or buying peace with terrible concessions. If evils such as those committed in Athens in the last years of the war, for example the massacre of the population of Melian, were not likewise committed by Miltiades' contemporaries, it was not the result of humanity or superior principle on his part. but from the fact that they were not subject to the same temptation which the possession of imperial power brought them. , would have been more quickly and unceremoniously enacted than in 406 BC. has actually been decided. Because at that earlier date there was no cannon sephism surrounded by prescriptive respect; no paranomon charts; not such established habits of deference to a solemnly sworn dicastery, with full notice of the accused and full defense time by the clock; none of those certainties that a long road towards democracy was sculpting the public morals of every Athenian and that, as we saw in a previous chapter, offered a serious obstacle to the impulse of the moment, although finally overthrown by its violence. A much less violent impulse would have been 490 BC. enough for the same calamity before such barriers were in place. Finally, if we want to get a measure of the Athenian public's sense of appreciation for strict and strictly decent morals in the midst of the Peloponnesian War, we need only look at the way in which Nicias was treated. I have shown, in describing the Sicilian campaign, that the gravest mistake ever made by the Athenians, who destroyed both their armament at Syracuse and their power in the interior, arose from their immeasurable esteem for the honorable and pious Nicias, whom he blinded. even the rudest. defects of command and public conduct. Fatal as such an error of judgment was, it at least serves as proof that the moral depravity supposedly practiced on his characters is mere fiction. Nor should it be assumed that the courage and determination that once animated the Marathon and Salamis fighters disappeared in the last years of the Peloponnesian War. On the contrary, the vigorous and prolonged struggle of Athens after the irreparable catastrophe at Syracuse forms a worthy parallel to her endurance in the time of Xerxes, and has kept intact that distinctive quality which Pericles had established as the main basis of her fame, which, never before of the calamity to subside. Without disparaging Salamis' armament, we may point out that the patriotism of the Samos fleet, which saved Athens from the Four Hundred, was equally devoted and more intelligent; and that the feat of strength which sent a subsequent fleet to victory at Arginusae was equally exhausting.
Thus, if we examine the 87 years of Athenian history between the Battle of Marathon and the restoration of democracy after the 1930s, we see no reason for the frequent assertion of ever-increasing morality and political corruption. I believe that the people have improved morally and politically and that their democracy has helped to improve them. The remark made by Thucydides, on the occasion of the bloodshed of Corkyra, of the violent and ruthless political antipathies arising from the confluence of foreign war with internal partisan disputes, wherever applied, has no bearing on Athens: the subsequent proceedings Four hundred later of thirty prove otherwise. And while this justifies Athens on moral grounds, it is undeniable that its people had acquired a much wider range of ideas and skills than at the time of the Battle of Marathon. Incidentally, this is the fact deplored by Aristophanes and admitted by those writers who, denouncing the sophists, associate such a broadening of the spectrum of thought with the spread of the supposed sophist poison. In my opinion, not only the charge against the sophists as poisoners, but even the existence of such a poison in the Athenian system deserves nothing less than an emphatic denial.
Let's look again at the names of these professional teachers, starting with Prodicus, one of the most famous. Who hasn't read the well-known fable The Choice of Hercules, which is found in all books that claim to bring together impressive illustrations of elementary morals? Who does not know that its express purpose is to fire the imagination of the young to a life of work for noble purposes and against a life of pleasure? It was the favorite subject on which Prodicus lectured and on which he found the widest audience. If it is of astonishing simplicity and effect even for a modern reader, how much more powerful must it have been for the audience to whose belief it was specially adapted when triggered by its author's verbal accretions! Xenophon marveled that the Athenian dicasteries treated Socrates as a corrupter of youth - Isocrates marveled that part of the public made the same mistake with him - and I confess that my astonishment was no less than that not only Aristophanes but even modern writers on Greek philosophy should place Prodicus in the same unenviable catalogue. This is his only remaining composition; indeed, the only composition left by any of the sophists, with the exception of Gorgias' thesis mentioned above. It served not only to vindicate Prodicus against such a charge, but also as a warning against the implicit reliance on Plato's sarcastic comments - to whom Prodicus belongs as much as the other sophists - and on the teachings he put on the sophists' lips. in general, so that Socrates could refute them. The most common frankness would teach us that if a polemical dialogist prefers to put untenable doctrines into his opponent's mouth, we must beware of condemning him on the basis of such dubious evidence.
Welcker and other modern writers treat Prodicus as the most innocent of sophists and exempt him from their judgment of the class at large. So let's see what Plato himself says about the rest, and first about Protagoras. Were it not the established practice among Plato's readers to condemn Protagoras in advance, and to give every passage which refers to him not only as bad a sense as he can bear, but much worse than he can bear, they would probably draw too many conclusions. different conclusions of the platonic dialogue that bears the name of this sophist and in which he is the protagonist. This dialogue is enough to prove that Plato did not conceive of Protagoras as a corrupt teacher, nor as unworthy or incompetent. The course of the dialogue reveals him as not a master of ethical theory and unable to resolve several difficulties with which the theory struggles; moreover, as no opponent of Socrates in the dialectic, which Plato regarded as the only efficient method of philosophical investigation. Thus, insofar as imperfect knowledge of the science or theory on which the precepts of art or precepts concerning practice are based renders a teacher incapable of giving instruction in that art or practice, Protagoras proves to be defective. And if an experienced dialectician like Plato, Isocrates, or Quintilian, or the great majority of teachers, past or present, had been subjected to a similar interrogation as to the theory of his doctrine, an ignorance no less evident than that of Protagoras would have been evident. produced. The antithesis that Plato poses in so many of his dialogues, between precept and practice, accompanied by full knowledge of the scientific principles from which it must be derived when its veracity is contested, and unscientific practice, without such power of deduction or defense, is one of the parts most valuable of his speculations: he exhausts his genius to make himself noticed in a thousand roundabout ways, and, if possible, to transport his readers to the highest and most rational course of thought. But one thing must be said of a man who does not know the theory of what he teaches or the manner in which he teaches; It is another thing to say that it actually teaches what scientific theory would not better dictate; it is a third thing, more serious than both, to say that his teaching is not only below the demands of the scene, but is even corrupt and demoralizing. Of these three points, it is only the first that Plato expresses against Protagoras in his dialogue: he neither asserts nor imputes even the second; and as for the third, not only does he never look at it, not even indirectly, but the whole tendency of the discourse suggests a directly opposite conclusion. As if it were reasonable that, when an eminent adversary appears confused and irritated by a superior dialectic, it would be fair to expose his special merits as well, Plato tells a fable and an explanatory speech by Protagoras on the subject. , if virtue can be taught. I find this speech very impressive and instructive; and it would probably have been explained in this way if commentators had not read it with the preconceived idea that anything coming from the lips of a sophist must be ridiculous or immoral. It is the only part of Plato's writings that explains the growth of that fluctuating, unrecognized, self-propagating body of opinion to which the analysis of Socrates' interrogation applies, as we shall see in the next chapter.
Protagoras endeavors to teach his students good advice about home and family relationships, teaching them to speak and act more effectively for the good of the city. As this is from Protagoras, commentators on Plato call it miserable morality; but it agrees almost to the letter with what Isocrates himself, a generation later, describes as the teaching, and essentially even with what Xenophon presents as the teaching of Socrates; Nor is it easy to outline in a few words a broader scheme of practical duties. And if the measure of practical duty which Protagoras devoted himself to teaching was so serious and thorough, even the fraction of theory attributed to him in his discourse contains some better points than Plato himself. each individual to encompass nothing more than his own lasting happiness and moral health; and in that same dialogue he presents Socrates as a virtue consisting solely of a correct calculation of man's personal happiness and misery. But here we find protagonists in a way that implies a broader and, I believe, fairer appreciation of the ethical end, as it implies not only reference to one's own happiness, but also commitments to the happiness of others. Not agreeing with the harsh criticisms that various critics voice to this theory that Socrates is supposed to propose in the Platonic Protagoras, I consider his essentially narrow and imperfect conception of ethical purpose, inadequate to be considered as an adequate basis for the derivation of the best theory. Ethical principles. Yet such is the prejudice with which the history of the Sophists was written that commentators on Plato accuse the Sophists of having produced what they ignorantly call "the fundamental theory of utility" propounded here by Socrates himself; Kudos to the latter for expounding those broader views that belong only to Protagoras in this dialogue.
As for Protagoras, therefore, proof may be furnished by Plato himself to show that he was not a corrupt teacher, but a worthy companion of Prodicus; also worthy of what we know he enjoyed, the company and amusement of Pericles. Let us now examine what Plato says of a third sophist, Hippias of Elis; appearing both in the dialogue called "Protagoras" and in two different dialogues known by the titles "Hipias Major and Minor". Hippias is portrayed as outstanding for the wide range of his accomplishments, which he demonstratively boasts about in these dialogues. He could teach astronomy, geometry, and arithmetic, subjects which Protagoras chided him for imposing too much on his pupils; nor did these sophists agree on any scheme of doctrine or education. He was also a poet, musician, interpreter of poets and lecturer, with vast material composed on moral, political and even legendary themes, kept in a very well preserved memory. He was a much used citizen as an envoy of his fellow citizens: moreover, his manual dexterity was such that he claimed to have made with his own hands all the clothes and jewelry he wore. If, as is quite likely, he was a vain and sumptuous man, defects which do not prevent a useful and honorable career, we must at the same time ascribe to him a multitude of acquisitions which explain a certain degree of vanity. The style in which Plato treats Hippias is very different from that in which he treats Protagoras. It is full of mockery and irony, so that even Stallbaum, after repeating many times that he was a vile sophist who deserved no better treatment, is forced to admit that the irritation has gone too far and to suggest that the dialogue must have been a work of art. Plato's youth. At any rate, with so much cruel treatment, not only do we find no charge against Hippias of having preached low or corrupt morality, but Plato adds what provides good, if indirect, evidence to the contrary. For Hippias is said to have delivered, and will deliver, a speech which he himself composed with great care, detailing the aims and aspirations which a youth should pursue. His pattern of speech was that, after the conquest of Troy, the young Neoptolemus appeared asking advice from Nestor on his own future conduct; In response, Néstor presents him with the life project that corresponds to a young man with honorable aspirations, and reveals all the details of a virtuous and disciplined conduct by which he must comply. The choice of two of these names, among the most revered throughout Greek legend, such as Monitor and Student, is a mark that clearly attests to the vein of emotion that animated the composition. The morality preached by Nestor for the edification of Neoptolemus is possibly too high for Athenian practice; but it would certainly not be on the side of corruption, selfishness, or self-indulgence. We may suppose that this speech, composed by Hippias, would not be unworthy, either in spirit or in purpose, to be placed on the side of "Hercules' choice", nor would its author be unworthy to be placed on the side of Prodicus as a moral teacher. .
Socrates conducts the dialogue, which is called "Gorgias" in Plato, with three different people in succession: Gorgias, Polo and Kallikles. Leontini's Gorgias in Sicily achieved greater fame as a teacher of rhetoric than any other man of his time during the Peloponnesian War: his rich power of illustration, his lavish ornamentation, his artificial structure of sentences divided into exactly antithetical fractions, all this spread to a new vogue in rhetoric, very popular at the time but which later fell into disrepute. If the line between rhetoricians and sophists could be clearly drawn, Gorgias would have to be among the first. In Conversation with Gorgias, Socrates exposes the fallacy and deception of rhetoric and rhetorical instruction, how to deceive an ignorant public to persuade without knowledge and shaped to satisfy passing whims without regard for the lasting good and betterment of the public. Whatever the actual charge expressed in these arguments against a professor of rhetoric, Gorgias must side with Isocrates and Quintilian, and come under the shield of Aristotle. But apart from rhetorical teaching, Plato does not ascribe to it any dissemination of corrupt morals; that he actually treats him with a degree of respect that astounds commentators.
The tone of the dialogue changes substantially as it progresses to Polus and Kallikles, the former of whom is described as a rhetorical writer and probably also a teacher. There is a lot of insolence in Polo and a little wit in Socrates. But the former does not allege arguments that justify the charge of immorality against him or his colleagues. He defends the tastes and feelings common to all men in Greece and shared even by the most esteemed Athenians, Pericles, Nicias and Aristocrates; while Socrates prides himself on being all alone, on having no support other than his irresistible dialectic, making sure to grudgingly extort money from his opponent. How far Socrates may be right I do not now question: it is enough that Polo, being in the midst of so large and impeccable company, cannot justly be denounced as a poisoner of the youthful spirit.
Polo now turns the dialogue over to Callicles, who arguably comes across here as overtly teaching and overtly antisocial. He distinguishes between the law of nature and the law—written and unwritten, because the Greek word essentially includes both—of society. According to the law of nature, says Callicles, the strong man - the best or ablest - uses his strength wholly for his own benefit, without limit or restriction; overcome the resistance that weaker men can offer; and he clings to his whim in the matter of pleasure. You have no opportunity to suppress your desires or desires; the more numerous and urgent they are, the better for him, for his power gives him the means to satisfy them all. The many who have the misfortune of being weak must be content with what she leaves them, and submit to her as best they can. This, says Callicles, certainly happens in the state of nature; this is considered fair, as evidenced by the practice of independent communities not included in a common political society among themselves; this is justice by nature, or by natural law. But when men enter society, everything is reversed. Most men know very well that they are weak and that their only possibility of safety or comfort is to legislate to subdue this strong man, reinforced by a moral sanction of praise and blame in the service of the same general end. They capture him like a lion's whelp when his spirit is still tender, and fascinate him by talking with him and training him in an attitude of proportion and equality which the law dictates. Here, then, is justice according to the law of society; an artificial system constructed by many for their own protection and happiness, even to the point of subverting the natural law which gives the strong man the right of usurpation and license. Let the opportunity present itself, and the beloved of nature will be seen throwing off her harness, trampling the laws, breaking the magic circle of opinion around her, and emerging again as lord and master of many. regain the glorious position that nature rightfully gave you. According to Callicles, justice by nature and justice by law and society are not only different, but also contradict each other. He accuses Socrates of having confused the two in his argument.
Many writers have asserted that this antisocial reasoning - quite true in so far as it expresses simple facts and probabilities; immoral insofar as it elevates the power of the strong to justice; and invite lots of comments if IC could find a suitable place for them - it represents the morality common and openly taught by the people called sophists in Athens. I emphatically deny this claim. Even if I had no evidence to support my rejection beyond what has already been gleaned from Plato's unkind writings on Protagoras and Hippias, with what we know from Xenophon on Prodicus, I should present my case as a justification of the Sophists in general. such an accusation. If a refutation of Callicles' doctrine were required, it would be obtained as efficiently from Prodicus and Protagoras as from Socrates and Plato.
But that is not the strongest part of the justification.
First, Callicles himself is not a sophist, nor does Plato represent him as such. He is a young Athenian citizen of rank and rank belonging to the Deme Acharnae; he knows other young men of rank in the city, has recently entered into an active political life, and is inclined to it with all his soul; he despises philosophy and speaks of the sophists with the utmost contempt. If it were just, then, which I do not admit, to infer from the opinions put in the mouth of one sophist that another or all have them, it would be no less unjust to do so than to infer from the opinions of one man. that he is no sophist, and despises every profession.
Secondly, if one carefully reads the course of the dialogue, he will see that Callicles' doctrine is such that no one has dared publicly defend it. This is how Callicles and Socrates conceived it. The first starts the conversation by saying that his predecessor Polo got involved in a contradiction because he didn't have the courage to openly proclaim an unpopular and hated doctrine; but he, Callicles, was less ashamed, and boldly uttered those doctrines which others keep to themselves, for fear of frightening those who hear them. “Certainly (Socrates tells him) your audacity is amply proved by the doctrine you have just expounded; you clearly express what others think but don't say. Well, the opinions of which Polo, an impudent young man, feared to declare himself a champion, must have been distasteful to the hearers' hearts. How, then, can a sane person believe that such views were not only openly expressed by sophists, but seriously hammered home as truth to the audience of young listeners? We know that the teaching of the latter was public in the highest degree; Advertising was pleasant and profitable for them; Among the many derogatory epithets heaped upon them, ostentation and vanity are two of the most notable. What they taught, they taught openly; and I assert with full conviction, that if they had agreed with Callicles in this opinion, they would not have been bold enough, nor their own enemies, to make it a part of their public doctrine; but he would have acted like Polo and kept the lesson to himself.
Thirdly, this last conclusion becomes doubly true when we consider which city we are talking about now. Of all the places in the world, democratic Athens is the last where the doctrine defended by Callicles could have been represented by a public teacher; or even by Callicles himself, at any public meeting. It is needless to remind the reader how deeply democratic the feelings and morals of the Athenians were, how much they loved their laws, constitution, and political equality, how jealous was their fear of any impending or threatening despotism. All this is not simply admitted, but even exaggerated by Mr. Mitford, Wachsmuth, and other anti-democratic writers, who often extract material for their copious criticisms. Now the very point that Socrates seeks to make against Callicles, against the Rhetoricians and against the Sophists, in this dialogue called "Gorgias", is that they courted, flattered and led the spirit of the Athenian people, and brought them to humiliation. subordination; that they aimed simply at immediate gratification and not at people's permanent moral improvement; who would not dare speak to them of inconvenient truths, however healthy they might be, but would change and modify their opinions in every respect so as not to offend them; that no outstanding man in Athens had any prospect of success unless he fully adapted and assimilated with the people and their kinds of feelings. If such accusations are accepted as true, how is it conceivable that a sophist or a rhetorician would dare to impose the doctrine expounded by Callicles at a public audience in Athens? To say to such an audience: “Your laws and institutions are all violations of natural law, designed to defraud Alcibiades or Napoleon among you of their natural right to become their master and treat you little men as their slaves. All his unnatural precautions and conventional rhetoric in favor of legality and equality will prove a miserable helplessness the moment he finds a good opportunity to assert himself with all his vigor and energy, put them in their proper place, and show the you what privileges he bestows nature on your loved ones. destined!" despotism The great man portrayed by Callicles has the same relation to common mortals as Jonathan Wild the Great, in Fielding's admirable parody.
That the Sophists, whom Plato accuses of slavishly flattering the democratic ear, baselessly insult it by asserting such principles, is a proposition which is not only false, but utterly absurd. Even of Socrates we learn from Xenophon how much he offended the Athenians by him, and how much he was urged by the accusers at his trial, who in their conversations used to quote with particular delight the description in the second book of the Iliad of Ulysses following the crowd, Greek as he ran from the agora to the chessboard, and urging them back with kind words to the chiefs, striking with a blow of the stick, accompanied by scornful rebuke, the common people. Indirect evidence, therefore, that Socrates tolerated unequal treatment and abuse from the majority spoke strongly against him in the minds of the dicasteries. How, then, would they have felt about a sophist who openly professed Callicles' political morality? The truth is that not only was it impossible for such a moral, or something similar, even if very diluted, to insinuate itself in the pedagogical conferences of the professors of Athens, but fear would go in the opposite direction. If the sophist got anything wrong, it was Socrates hinted at by making his lectures too democratic. Indeed, if we suppose that an opportunity to discuss the doctrine of Callicles presented itself, it could hardly fail to flatter the ears of the democrats around, emphasizing the beneficial results of legality and equal treatment, and those "natural despots". Napoleon unknown as one who must take his place under such restrictions or find a place in another city. Thus I have shown, even by Plato himself, that the doctrine attributed to Callicles did not and could not have entered the lectures of any sophist or professed teacher. The same conclusion can be drawn regarding the teaching of Thrasymachus in the first book of The Republic. Thrasymachus was a professor of rhetoric who laid down rules for the structure of speech and the training of young people to speak in public. It is very likely that, like Gorgias, he confined himself to this department, and did not profess to give lessons in morals, like Protagoras and Prodicus. But if he admitted that he did, he would not speak of justice in the way that Plato makes him speak, if he wanted to give an Athenian public any satisfaction. The utter brutality and savage insolence of conduct, even to the point of exaggeration, with which Plato clothed him is in itself strong evidence that the doctrine introduced by such a preface was not that of a popular and acceptable teacher winning public favor. He defines justice “as the interest of the superior power; that rule which in every society the ruling power prescribes for its own benefit”. A man is just, he says, for another's benefit, not for his own: he is weak, unable to help himself, and must submit to what the strongest authority dictates, be it despot, oligarchy, or republic. .
This theory differs essentially from the doctrine of Callicles presented a few pages earlier; for Thrasymachus does not leave society to insist on the privileges derived from a supposed state of nature; he takes societies as he finds them, recognizing the real governmental authority of each as canon and part of justice or injustice. Stallbaum and others carelessly treated the two theories as if they were the same thing; and with something worse than want of caution, while declaring Thrasymachus's theory horribly immoral, they proclaim that it was advanced not only by him, but also by the Sophists; that is, treat the sophists in the usual way, as if they were a school, a sect, or a society with mutual responsibility. Anyone who followed the testimonies I presented about Protagoras and Prodicus will know how differently the latter dealt with the issue of justice.
But the truth is that Thrasymachus' theory, though false and flawed, is not as odious as these authors make it out to be. What makes it despicable is the style and way it presents it; which makes the just appear petty and contemptible, while surrounding the unjust with enviable attributes. Now this is the fact which disturbs the general feelings of mankind, as it disturbs the critics who read what is said of Thrasymachus. Moral sentiments exist in people's minds in complex and powerful clusters associated with a few big words and emphatic forms of expression. Whether an ethical theory satisfies the demands of reason or gives commands and responses to all phenomena, an ordinary audience will seldom bother to reflect carefully; but what they imperiously demand, and what is indispensable to give the theory any chance of success, is that it should show their feelings the just as decent and worthy, and the unjust as abominable and repulsive. Now, what offends in the language attributed to Thrasymachus is not just the absence, but the inversion of this condition; the representation of the just as weak and stupid, and of injustice in every form of triumph and dignity. And for that very reason I venture to conclude that Thrasymachus never expounded such a theory before a public audience in the form in which it appears in Plato. For Thrasymachus was a rhetorician who had studied the principles of art from him; we now know that these general sentiments of an audience were precisely what rhetoricians understood best and always endeavored to reconcile. From the time of the Gorgias they began to compose declamations ahead of general morality, ready to be introduced into actual speech on some occasion, appealing to moral sentiments which are known to be general. with more or less modifications in all Greek mounds. The real Thrasymachus, addressing any audience in Athens, would never have hurt these feelings, as the Platonist Thrasymachus must in The Republic. He would have done less if it were true for him, as Plato asserts about rhetoricians and sophists who generally think only of popularity without any sincere conviction.
Although Plato considers it proper to emphasize Thrasymachus' opinion with unnecessarily offensive embellishments, and thus to increase Socrates' dialectical triumph through his opponent's brutal manner, he was well aware that he himself had not fulfilled the opinion, let alone because the had refuted. . . Proof of this is that in the second book of the "Republic", after the disappearance of Thrasymachus, Glaucon and Adimantus assume exactly the same opinion and are supported by both, although they refuse to take it as their own, as they have serious doubts. and the difficulties indicate that they would like to hear them resolved by Socrates. A careful reading of the speeches of Glaucon and Adimantus will show that the substantive opinion attributed to Thrasymachus, despite the brutality with which he pronounces it, does not even support the charge of immoral teaching against him, much less against the sophist in general. Hardly anything in Plato's compositions is more powerful than these speeches. They present in vivid and powerful ways some of the most serious difficulties facing ethical theory. And Plato can only answer them one way, by dissecting society into pieces and reconstructing them in terms of his imagined republican state of society, and they get no other answer than that implied by that description. Plato admits indirectly that he cannot answer them on the assumption that social institutions remain unchanged: and their reform is quite fundamental.
I call special attention to this circumstance, without which we cannot properly evaluate the sophists or practical teachers of Athens in relation to their general accuser, Plato. He was a great systematic theorist, whose opinions on ethics, politics, knowledge, religion, etc., were all harmonized by his own mind and endowed with that distinctive character which is the mark of a primitive intellect. So great an effort on the part of speculative genius is among the wonders of the Greek world. His opposition to all the societies he saw around him, not only democratic but also oligarchic and despotic, was of the deepest and most radical character. Nor did he delude himself into believing that any partial change in what he saw could produce the desired end: he saw nothing less than a new genesis of man and the citizen, with institutions calculated from the beginning to the highest degree of perfection to function. . His fertile scientific imagination realized this idea in the "Republic". But this very systematic and original character, which gives so much value and charm to Plato's substantive speculations, is seen as a devaluation of his credibility as a critic or witness to the living agents whom he served in Athens and other cities as statesmen, generals or saw the teachers working. His criticism is dictated by his own point of view, according to which society as a whole was corrupt and all the instruments that performed its functions were essentially base metals. Anyone who reads the "Gorgias" or the "Republic" will see how broadly and indiscriminately their judgment of condemnation is made. Not only all sophists and all rhetoricians, but all dithyrambic or tragic musicians and poets; All statesmen, past and present, not excluding the great Pericles, receive at his hands a common mark of shame. Plato counts each and every one of these men among the numerous sycophants who serve the immediate gratification and desires of the people without regard to their lasting betterment or their moral betterment. “Pericles and Cimon (says Socrates in the Gorgias) are but servants or ministers, gratifying the immediate appetites and tastes of the people; just as the baker and the pastry chef do in their respective departments, not knowing or caring whether the food is really good for you, which only the doctor can judge. As ministers they are wise enough: they have furnished the city with copious tributes, walls, wharves, ships, and other such follies: but I (Socrates) am the only man in Athens who, so far as my strength allows, aim at the true Purpose of politics , the spiritual betterment of the people." So radically, a condemnation reveals itself as the progeny and consequent progeny of a systematic peculiarity of seeing, the prejudice of a great and capable mind.
It would be no less unfair to appreciate the sophists or statesmen of Athens from the point of view of Plato than the present teachers and politicians of England or France from Mr. Owens or Fouriers. Both the one class and the other worked for society as in Athens: the statesmen took care of practical politics, the sophist educated youth for practical life in all its departments, as fathers of families, citizens and leaders. order to obey and command. Both accepted the system as it was, without considering the possibility of a rebirth of society: both met specific needs, kept their anchor in specific sentiments, and bowed to specific morals that were really felt by the living men around them. It is perfectly correct what Plato says of the statesmen of Athens, that they were but servants or servants of the people. He, examining the people and society as a whole by an imaginary standard of his own, may find all these ministers useless in perpetuating a system too bad to mend; but still the difference between a competent and an incompetent minister, between Pericles and Nicias, was of unspeakable importance to the safety and happiness of the Athenians. What the Sophists did, in their turn, was to educate the young so that they would be better qualified for statesmen or ministers; and Protagoras would have considered it honor enough for himself - as well as good enough for Athena, which it certainly would have been - if he had been able to inspire any young Athenian with the soul and skills of his friend and companion Pericles.
So far is Plato from regarding the Sophists as corrupting Athenian morals that, in a remarkable passage in The Republic, he bluntly protests against this assumption. It is, he says, the whole people or society, with its established morality, intelligence, and frame of mind, that is inherently evil; the teachers of such a society must also be malicious, or their teachings would not be accepted; and no matter how good his private instruction, its effect would be swept away, except in a privileged few, by the overwhelming tide of injurious social influences. Let no one imagine how ready modern readers are to understand that this stern rebuke is addressed to Athens as a democracy. Plato was not a man to preach kingship or the cult of wealth as a social or political remedy: he emphatically asserts that none of the societies of the time allowed a truly philosophical nature to play an active part in them. These passages alone would be enough to deflect the claims of those who denounce the sophists as poisoners of Athenian morality under Plato's supposed authority. Nor is it any longer true, that they were men of mere words, and did not make their disciples better, a reproach cast as strongly against Socrates as against the Sophists, and by the same class of enemies as Anytus, Aristophanes, Eupolis, &c. it was principally from sophists like Hippias that the young Athenians learned what they knew about geometry, astronomy, and arithmetic; but the scope of the so-called special science, which even the professor had at his disposal, was then very limited; and the subject communicated was expressed under the general heading of "Words or Discourses," which the Sophists always taught in connection with thought, and in connection with practical use. The faculties of thought, speech and action are associated by the Greeks in general and by teachers like Isocrates and Quintilian in particular; and when young men in Greece, like Proxenus the Boeotian, took up the tutelage of Gorgias or any other sophist, it was with a view to enabling them not only to speak, but also to act.
Most of the students of the sophists, like Socrates himself, were wealthy young men; a fact which Plato scoffs at and others copy to show that they only care about high wages. But I do not hesitate to side with Isocrates and argue that the sophist himself had much to lose by corrupting his students -an argument used by Socrates to defend himself before the Dicastery, and equally valid in his defense of Protagoras or Prodicus- and a strong interest in personal in sending them accomplished and virtuous; that the best-informed young people were decidedly the least criminal and the most active forever; that among the valuable ideas and feelings an Athenian youth had in his head, and among the good occupations he pursued, those which he had learned from the Sophists were almost among the best; that, if it were the other way around, parents would not have continued to send their children and pay with their money for the bitter slander and partisan war in their hometown; that the subjects they made known to him were the general interests and duties of men and citizens; that they developed the germs of morality in ancient legends, as in Prodicus's fable, and strengthened in their minds all vague associations connected with the great words of morality; that the feeling of Panhellenic fraternity revived in him; and which, by teaching him the art of persuasion, inevitably made him feel the dependence in which he found himself on those who had to be persuaded, together with the need in which he found himself to behave in such a way as to reconcile Benevolence with Compassion. Will.
The indications given in Plato of the enthusiastic reception which Protagoras, Prodicus and other sophists met with in the various cities; the description we read in the dialogue Protagoras of the impatience of the young Hippocrates when he heard of the arrival of this sophist, in the sense that he wakes Socrates before dawn to receive an introduction from the newcomer and take advantage of his teaching; the willingness of such rich young men to pay money and spend time and effort to achieve personal superiority along with their wealth and position; the enthusiasm with which Callias is portrayed as using his house for hospitable entertainment and his fortune to help the sophists; all this produces on me an impression exactly the opposite of the ironic and contemptuous language in which Plato presents it. These sophists had nothing to commend but superior knowledge and intellectual vigor combined with an imposing personality which made itself felt in their lectures and speeches. This was shown with admiration; and the fact that it was so shown shows the best qualities of the Greek mind, especially the Athenian one. He exhibits those qualities of which Pericles emphatically boasted in his famous eulogy; Present public speaking as a practical matter, not as an excuse for inaction, but coupled with vigorous action, and put it to good use through extensive and open discussion beforehand; deep sensitivity to the charm of the manifested intellect without weakening the power of execution or endurance. Surely a man like Protagoras, arriving in a city with all this admiration before him, must have known very little of his own interest or position when he began to preach a low or corrupt morality. If it is generally true, as Voltaire observed, that "any man who came to preach loose morals would be stoned", then it is even more true for a sophist like Protagoras, with all prestige in a foreign city comes a great intellectual name. , and with the imagination of an impetuous young man to hear and converse with him, that any such doctrine would immediately destroy his reputation. Numerous teachers made their name by practicing excessive asceticism; it will be difficult to find a contrary example of success.
CHAPTER 68
SOCRATES
That the professional teachers, called Sophists in Greece, were intellectual and moral corrupters, and that much corruption grew in the minds of the Athenians under their instruction, are general statements which I have endeavored to show to be false. Corresponding with these statements is another which portrays Socrates as one whose special merit was to have rescued the Athenian spirit from such demoralizing influences; a reputation it neither deserves nor needs. On the whole, the favorable interpretation of the evidence presented to Socrates was no less pronounced than the harshness of the presumption against the Sophists. Recently, however, some authors have treated his story in a different spirit and have expressed a tendency to downplay it on what they consider to be the sophistic level. M. Forchhammer's treatise, The Athenians and Socrates, or Legal Treatises against the Revolution, goes still further, and confidently asserts that Socrates was justly condemned as a heretic, traitor, and corrupter of youth. His book, the conclusions of which I flatly reject, is a kind of retaliation by the sophists, extending to their supposed adversary the same bitter and unjust spirit of engineering from which they unjustly suffered for so long. But if we look at the evidence impartially, it appears that Socrates deserves our admiration and respect; not, of course, as an anti-Sophist, but as an association with the qualities of a good man, a strength of character and speculative originality, and a method and power for working intellectually in others generally unlike any other person. professor by profession, unparalleled neither among his contemporaries nor among his successors.
Socrates' life spans seventy years, from 469 to 390 BC. His father Sofroniscus, who was a sculptor, the son started to practice the same profession, in which he acquired enough skill to carry out several works; in particular, a covered group of Charites or Graces preserved on the Acropolis, and shown as his work down to the time of Pausanias. His mother Fenarete was a midwife and he had a maternal brother named Patrocles. As for his wife Xanthippe and their three children, all that has gone down in history is the former's violent temper and her husband's patience in putting up with it. The position and family of Socrates, without being absolutely poor, were lowly and insignificant, but he was of genuine Attic origin, and belonged to the ancient gens Daedalidae, who were named after Daedalus, the mythical artist, as their progenitor.
Socrates' personal qualities, on the other hand, were marked and distinct, not less in body than in mind. His physical constitution was extraordinarily healthy, robust and tough. Not only was he as strong and active as a hoplite in military service, but he could also endure fatigue or deprivation and be indifferent to heat or cold to the point of surprising all his companions. He went barefoot in all seasons, even during the winter campaign in Potidaea under the severe Thracian frosts; and the same household clothes sufficed for him winter and summer. Although his diet was generally simple and austere, there were occasions for religious festivals or friendly congratulation when all Greeks deemed mirth and indulgence appropriate. On such occasions, Socrates could drink more wine than any guest present, but without feeling overwhelmed or intoxicated. In principle, he abstained from all extreme gymnastic exercises, which required an extraordinary abundance of food as a necessary condition. His stated aim was to limit the number of his needs as much as possible, as a distant approximation of the perfection of the gods, who wanted nothing to control the natural and prevent the proliferation of the artificial. that his admirable physical temperament did much to achieve this object, and to help him maintain the self-control, contented self-sufficiency, and independence from the favor and enmity of others, essential to his intellectual life project. Friends of his, who tell us of his great physical strength and endurance, at the same time make fun of his ugly countenance; his flat nose, thick lips, and bulging eyes, like a satyr or Silenus. Nor can we implicitly trust the evidence of such admired witnesses as to the philosopher's deliverance from temperamental foibles; for it seems good evidence that he was naturally violently irascible; a fault which he generally kept in check, but occasionally betrayed him with gross impropriety in speech and behavior.
Of these friends, Xenophon and Plato are best known to us, although in antiquity there were several dialogues written by other listeners of Socrates and compiled to honor his speeches and teachings, all of which are now lost. Xenophon's "Memoirs" purport to record actual conversations conducted by Socrates, and are prepared with the stated aim of defending him against the accusations made by Melitus and his other accusers at the trial, as well as against the unfavorable opinions which seem to have been very characteristics and They distributed the purposes. It is therefore a kind of partial biography which may be subtracted from its probative value as necessary by imperfection of memory, deliberate embellishment and partiality. On the other hand, Plato's intention is not so clear in the numerous dialogues in which he introduces Socrates, and different commentators explain it very differently. Plato was a great speculative genius who formed opinions of his own that differed from those of Socrates, and he used the latter's name as the spokesman for those opinions in several dialogues. How much of Plato's Socrates can safely be accepted as an image of man or as a record of his opinions? How much, on the other hand, should be treated as Platonism? or in what proportions the two mingle, is a point which cannot be decided with certainty or rigor. The Apologies of Socrates, Crito, and Phaedo seem—so far as morality is concerned and irrespective of the doctrines they represent—to belong to the first category; while the political and social views of the Republic and the treatise De Legibus, the cosmic theories in the Timaeus, and the hypothesis of ideas as substantial existences outside the phenomenal world are spoken of in the various dialogues wherever they are, they certainly belong to the second. Probably much of the ethical dialogue can be understood to represent Socrates in a more or less Platonic way.
But though the opinions which Plato puts into Socrates' mouth are subject to so much uncertainty, yet we find with great satisfaction that the pictures which Plato and Xenophon give of their common master agree in substance; they differ only in that they are by two authors radically different in spirit and character from the same original. Xenophon, the man of action, largely highlights Socrates' speeches that referred to practical behavior and aimed at correcting the vices or weaknesses of individuals; That was what served his purpose as an apologist and at the same time satisfied his intellectual tastes. But nevertheless, he indicates very clearly that Socrates' speech was often, indeed generally, of a more negative, analytic, and generalizing bent; It is not intended to censure any positive or particular defect, but to arouse the curious faculties and lead to a rational understanding of vice and virtue by relating them to certain general principles. Now, this last aspect of the Master's physiognomy, which Xenophon records clearly, though without emphasis or development, acquires an almost exclusive importance in the Platonic picture. Plato omits the practical and devotes himself to the theoretician, Socrates; from which he divests part of his identity to inscribe him as a main speaker in certain great theoretical visions of his authorship. The two images do not contradict each other, but complement each other with their shortcomings and can merge into a unified whole. And as to the method of Socrates, a point more characteristic than either his precepts or his theory, and as to the effect of that method on the minds of his hearers, both Xenophon and Plato are witnesses who essentially agree: though, here too, he appropriated the method , developed it to a scale of expansion and perfection and gave it a permanence that it could never have obtained from its original author, who only spoke and never wrote. It is fortunate that our two main witnesses about him, both speaking from personal knowledge, are so broadly in agreement.
Both describe their private life and habits in the same way; their poverty satisfied, justice, temperance in the fullest sense of the word, and independence of self-sufficient character. At most of these points, too, Aristophanes and the other comedians appear as corroborating witnesses, so far as their testimony is concerned; for they joke about Socrates' coarse cooking, his threadbare and scanty clothes, his bare feet, his pale face, his poor and joyless life. We know next to nothing about his life circumstances: he served as a hoplite at Potidaea, at Delium, and at Amphipolis; apparently with merit, although the exaggerated praise of his friends drew equally exaggerated skepticism from Athenaeus and others. He seems never to have held political office until the year (406 BC) of the Battle of Arginusae, in that year he was a member of the Senate of Five Hundred and one of the Prytanes on that memorable day when Callixenus' proposal against the six generals appeared before the public assembly ; his resolute refusal to put an unconstitutional question to a vote, despite all the personal risks, has already been reported. That he strictly obeyed the law throughout his long life is proved by the fact that none of his many enemies ever accused him in court; that he discharged all the duties of a just man and a courageous and pious citizen may be confidently said. Friends of his especially value his piety; that is, after the precise performance of all religious duties considered incumbent upon an Athenian.
While these points must be established if we are to correctly interpret the character of Socrates, he did not derive his prominent place in history from them. Three special traits characterize the man. 1. His long life was spent in contented poverty and in public and apostolic dialectic. 2. Your strong religious conviction or belief in acting under a mission and sign from the gods; especially your demon or genie; the special religious admonition which often struck him. 3. His great intellectual originality, both in subject and method, and his ability to stimulate and provoke questions and reflections in others. Although these three characteristics were so mixed up in Socrates that it is not easy to consider them separately; however, he differed in every way from any Greek philosopher before or after him.
We do not know when Socrates abandoned the profession of sculptor; but the truth is that at least the whole middle and later part of his life was devoted exclusively to the self-imposed task of teaching; to the exclusion of all other public or private businesses and to the neglect of all assets. We can hardly fail to speak of him as a teacher, although he himself rejected the label: his practice was to talk or talk, orjaw, when we translate the mocking word used by the enemies of philosophy to designate dialectical conversation. Early in the morning, he would go to the public sidewalks, the gyms for physical exercise and the schools where young people were educated; it could be seen in the market place when it was at its height, among the stalls and tables where wares for sale were displayed; He usually spent the whole day in this public way. He spoke to anyone, young or old, rich or poor, who sought to speak with him, and in the ears of all who chose to be near; not only did he never ask for or receive a reward, he made no distinction between people, held his conversation against no one, and spoke to everyone on the same general topics. He conversed with politicians, sophists, soldiers, craftsmen, ambitious youths or workers, etc. He visited any interested person in town, male or female; his friendship with Aspasia is well known, and one of the most interesting chapters in Xenophon's Memorabilia tells of his visit and dialogue with Theodote, a beautiful hetaera, or consort. Nothing could be more public, constant, and indiscriminate than their conversation. But as listening to him was captivating, curious and instructive, certain people got used to visiting him in public as companions and listeners. These men, a wavering body, were commonly known as his disciples or scholars; although neither he nor his personal friends ever used the terms teacher and student to describe their relationship. Many of them, attracted by his reputation, came from other Greek cities in the last years of his life: Megara, Thebes, Elis, Cyrene, etc.
Now, no other person in Athens, or in any other Greek city, seems to have come forward as a public speaker for the teachings so continuously and so indiscriminately. All the teachers received money for their tuition, or at least gave it, except the crowd in a private house or garden, for special pupils admission and rejection at will. The private way of life that Socrates followed not only brought his conversation to the attention of a much wider circle, but also made him better known as a person. While he gained some friends and admirers and sparked some intellectual interest in others, he also spawned a number of personal enemies. This is probably why he was singled out by Aristophanes and other comic writers for attack as the general defender of philosophical and rhetorical doctrine; all the more so as his marked and repulsive physiognomy was so well imitated in the mask worn by the actor. Theatergoers would have recognized the strange figure they were used to seeing daily in the market place sooner than if Prodicus or Protagoras, whom most of them did not know by sight, had taken the stage; it didn't much matter to them or to Aristophanes whether Socrates taught what he really taught or something else entirely.
This extreme publicity of life and conversation was one of the qualities of Socrates which distinguished him from any teacher before or after him. Then came his belief in a special religious mission, restrictions, impulses and communications sent to him by the gods. The belief in such supernatural interventions, in general, was by no means peculiar to Socrates: it was the common belief in the ancient world; while attempts to resolve phenomena into general laws were viewed with some disapproval as indirect suspension. And therefore Xenophon builds on this general fact, in replying to the charge of religious innovation of which his teacher was found guilty, to assert that he asserted nothing but what was contained in the belief of every pious man. But this is not an exact statement of the subject of the debate; for it at least slanders, if it does not deny, that peculiarity of the inspiration of the gods in which those who conversed with Socrates believed - as we know even from Xenophon - and in which Socrates himself also believed. His own account, as presented in the defense before the Dicastery, is quite different. Ever since he was a child he was used to constantly hearing a divine voice intervening sparingly, but never urging him on when he wanted to act. These forbidding warnings often came to him, not only on great occasions but also on small ones, and interrupted what he was about to do or say. However, later writers speak of Socrates himself as the devil or the genie, and do not personify them, treating them simply as "a divine sign, a prophetic or supernatural voice". He was accustomed not only to obey him without question, but also to talk about it openly and intimately with others, so that the fact would be well known to his friends and enemies alike. He was always forbidden to enter public life; forbade him, when the charge hung over him, to think of a prepared defence; and he marched so completely with the consciousness of that bridle in his mouth that, without resisting, he supposed that the branch he was about to take was the right one. Though his persuasion on the subject was undoubtedly sincere, and his obedience unswerving, he never stopped at its being something great or terrible or deserving of special reverence; but he often talked about it in his familiar game manner. To his friends at large this seems to have been one of his honorifics, though neither Plato nor Xenophon has any qualms about speaking of him in the jocular way they no doubt drew from him. But to his enemies and to the Athenian public it seemed a reprehensible heresy; an impious innovation of the orthodox faith and an abandonment of the recognized gods of Athens.
Such was the demon or genius of Socrates as he himself describes and understands it in the genuine Platonic dialogues; a voice ever forbidding, relating only to his own personal conduct. What Plutarch and other admirers of Socrates conceived as a demon or intermediary between gods and men, was considered as the devil by the fathers of the Christian Church; by Leclerc as one of the fallen angels; by some other modern commentators as mere ironic phraseology on Socrates' own part. A fact that has received little attention, but deserves special attention and has been explained by himself, is that the reticent voice began as a child and lasted until the end of his life: it became an established belief long before his philosophical habits. . started. But though this peculiar form of inspiration belonged exclusively to him, there were other ways in which he believed he had received special orders from the gods, which not only checked him when he was about to take a wrong turn, but spurred him on. . His guidance and imperative, a positive course of action. Such a special mission had been entrusted to him by dreams, by oracular insinuations, and by all other means by which the gods expressed their special will.
Of these oracle hints he specifies one in particular in answer to a question asked at Delphi by his close friend and ardent admirer Chaerephon. The question asked was whether another man was wiser than Socrates; to which the Pythian priestess replied that no other man was wiser. Socrates says that he was greatly puzzled to hear this explanation from so infallible an authority, aware that he had no wisdom in things great or small. Finally, after much thought and an agonizing mental struggle, she decided to test the infallible priestess's accuracy by comparing the wisdom of others with her own. He chose a leader considered wise by both himself and others, and continued to converse with him and ask probing questions; the answers that convinced him that this man's supposed wisdom was not really wisdom. Having made such a discovery, Socrates tried to show the politician himself how much he wanted to be wise; but that was impossible; he was still as thoroughly convinced of his own wisdom as he had been before. “The result I obtained (says Socrates) was, that I was a wiser man than he was, because neither he nor I knew anything of what was really good and honorable; but the difference between us was that he thought he knew, while I was fully aware of my own ignorance, so I was wiser than he, having been freed from this capital error. prove correct.
Socrates repeated the same experiment successively on a large number of different subjects, especially those who were known for their excellent skill; first on politicians and rhetoricians, then on poets of all kinds and on artists and craftsmen. The outcome of his trial was essentially the same in all cases. The poets did indeed compose splendid verse, but even when asked about the words, themes, and purpose of their own compositions, they could not give consistent or satisfactory explanations; so that it was evident that they spoke or wrote as prophets as unconscious subjects under the impulses of inspiration. Furthermore, her success as a poet filled her with great respect for her own wisdom in other respects as well. The same was true of artists and artisans; who, though well instructed and giving satisfactory answers, each on his own particular business, were the more convinced for that reason, that they were well acquainted with other great and noble subjects also. This common big mistake more than made up for their special abilities and made them generally less wise than Socrates.
"In this investigation and examination (Socrates said in his defense) I have been busy for a long time and I am still busy. I question all respected men; I am showing you a lack of wisdom, but I cannot prove it that you will accomplish the So, in the fulfilling the mission entrusted to me, I verified the truth of the God who wanted to affirm that human wisdom is of little scope or value, and that the one who, like Socrates, felt most convinced of his own uselessness in relation to wisdom, he was truly the wisest man. exposed while spectators recognized me as a sage. speaks. because they ascribe to me wisdom in everything related to my display". - "Whatever is the danger and calumny that can be suffered, it would be really monstrous if you had to take my place in the queues as a hoplite between your generals in Delio and Potidea, ¿It should now, for fear of death or any other thing , disobeying the oracle and abandoning the position that God has assigned to me, do I have to live for philosophy and ask cross-questions both to myself and to others? , I must say with all respect and affection that I will obey God more than you, and that I will stand firm until the day of my death. as your supervisor is a sign of the special favor of God to you; and if you judge me, you will be lost; because you will not find another like me. ? AND This is the most difficult of all questions that I can answer to your satisfaction. If I tell them that silence on my part would be disobedience to God, they will take me for a joke and not believe me. Less will you believe me when I tell you that the greatest blessing that can come to a human being is to have discussions every day about virtue and other things that you hear me discuss when I and others question me. ; and that life without such proof is no life at all. However, oddly enough for you, the fact is firm.
I have provided plentiful extracts from Plato's Apology, because no one can adequately understand Socrates' character without getting into the spirit of this impressive speech. We see in this clear evidence of the intense supernatural mission he believed he was fulfilling, which did not allow him to rest or otherwise occupy himself. The oracular answer that Chaerephon brought from Delphi was a far greater event in his history than his supposed demon, of whom much more has been said. This answer, together with the dreams and other divine commissions that went to the same end, found him in the middle of life, when the intellectual man was forming and had already gained fame as a wise man among those who knew him. It provided a stimulus that set in motion a pre-existing current of generalizing dialectics and Zenonian negation, an intellectual vein with which the religious impulse rarely converges. Without this subject, to which his mind was particularly sensitive, the conversation would probably have followed the same general course, but would doubtless have been confined within much narrower and more cautious limits. For nothing could be more unpopular and loathsome than the task he undertook to question and condemn for ignorance every respectable man he could find. In fact, the enmity he occasionally provoked was so intense that there were instances where he was beaten or mistreated, and was often ridiculed. Although he won much admiration from auditors, particularly junior auditors, and from some devoted followers, philosophical motive alone would not have been sufficient to induce him to this systematic and even intrusive interrogation of his life.
This, then, is the second peculiarity that characterizes Socrates, besides his extreme publicity of life and his indiscriminate entertainment. He was not simply a philosopher, but a religious missionary doing the work of philosophy; oneelenchisch, - or questioning God, - to use an expression that Plato puts in his mouth when respecting an Eleatic philosopher who is in the process of examining and condemning those weak in reason. None of this belonged to Parmenides and Anaxagoras before him, nor to Plato and Aristotle after him. Both Pythagoras and Empedocles claimed that supernatural communication was mixed up with their philosophical doctrine. But although there is so far a general analogy between them and Socrates, the modes of appearance were so completely different that a fair comparison cannot be made.
The third and most important quality of Socrates, through which the first and second became effective, was his intellectual peculiarity. His influence on the speculative spirit of his time was clear and important; in terms of theme, method and teaching.
He was the first to direct his thoughts and discussions clearly to the subject of ethics. With the philosophers who preceded him, the object of study had been nature or the cosmos as an indistinguishable whole in which cosmogony, astronomy, geometry, physics, metaphysics, etc. Both the Ionian and Eleatic philosophers, both Pythagoras and Empedocles, all grapple with this vast and undefined problem; each one creates a system that fits his own imagination; religious, poetic, scientific or skeptical. But after that honorable quest for greater knowledge that marked the century after 480 B.C. they became sciences so distant that they were taught separately to young people. This seems to have been the state of science when Socrates received his training. He received at least the usual level of general education; as a youth he devoted himself to the company and instruction of the natural philosopher Archelaus, a disciple of Anaxagoras, whom he accompanied from Athens to Samos; and there is even reason to believe that in the early years of his life much was devoted to what was then understood to be the general study of nature. A man of his earnest and active intellect probably first showed his curiosity as an apprentice: "running after the various speeches of others and following them like a laconic dog", if I may be allowed an expression which Plato applied to him earlier, and he removed all the news itself. And in Plato's dialogue called Parmenides, Socrates appears as a young man eager to discuss Parmenides' theory, admiring Parmenides and Zeno and taking instruction from them in the process of dialectical inquiry. I have already indicated in the previous chapter the content of this dialogue, which illustrates how Greek philosophy, even in the early days of dialectics, presents itself as negative and positive, recognizing both the first branch of the method and the last. for obtaining the truth. I take it as a reference to the primitive mind of Socrates, taking this belief from the ancient Parmenides and the mature and experienced Zeno, and laying upon himself, as a condition of assent to any hypothesis or doctrine, the obligation of scrupulously stating all that could be said against it no less than anything that could be said for it: however laborious that process may be, and however little appreciated by the masses. However little we know of the circumstances that shaped Socrates' remarkable mind, we can conclude from this dialogue that he owes his powerful negative streak of dialectics in part to "the omnipresent and two-tongued Zeno."
Indeed, to a demonstrative mind, the science practiced at the time probably seemed not only unsatisfactory but also hopeless; and Socrates gave it up entirely in the middle of his life. The contradictory hypotheses which he heard, and the impenetrable confusion which seized the subject, led him to believe that the gods intended that the machinery by which they produced astronomical and physical results should remain unknown, and that the wicked were also useless. penetrate. in its mysteries. His teacher Archelaus, though mainly concerned with physics, also speculated more or less on moral questions, on good and evil, laws, etc.; and he is said to have held to the principle that justice and injustice were determined by law or convention, not by nature. Perhaps it is through him that Socrates was partly induced to turn his thoughts in this direction. But for a man disenchanted with physics, and having in his bosom a strong dialectical impulse, unemployed and restless, the harsh realities of Athenian life, even without Archelaus, would suggest human relationships, duties, actions and suffering as the most interesting materials. think and speak. Socrates could not go to public meetings, the department, or even the theater, without hearing arguments about what was just or unjust, honorable or vile, convenient or harmful, etc. invoked with equal reverent confidence. Along with Socrates' dialectical and generalizing power, which linked him with minds like Plato, there was at the same time a living practicality, a large storehouse of positive Athenian experiences, with which Xenophon mainly sympathized and which he brought in his "Memorabilia". Socrates' character is formed by these two intellectual tendencies, combined with a strong religious feeling; and all were immediately pleased when he began to admonish questions about the rules and purposes of human life; least distract him, since he had neither talent nor taste for public speaking.
Socrates was the first to proclaim that "the true study of mankind is man": he recognized man's safety and happiness as the sole end of study, and as the limiting principle by which it should be limited. At the current stage in which science finds itself, nothing is more strange than remembering the rules established by this great man. Astronomy, now at the height of perfection, with the greatest and most accurate ability to predict future phenomena that human science has ever achieved, was considered by him one of the divine mysteries impossible to understand and the madness of Anaxagoras to explore it I had done . stupidly. . Though he conceded that it was an advantage to know enough of the motions of the heavenly bodies to serve as an index of the change of seasons, and as a guide to voyages, earth journeys, or vigils: but so much, he said, could easily be of pilots and guards, while anything beyond that was but a waste of precious time, draining that mental effort which should be spent on profitable acquisitions. He reduced geometry to its literal meaning of surveying, necessary for any person to proceed rightly in buying, selling, or dividing land, which any ordinary alert man could do almost without a teacher; but silly and useless when applied to the study of complicated diagrams. As for arithmetic, he granted the same qualified study permit; but as to general physics, or the study of nature, he completely rejected them: 'Do these researchers think (he asked) that they already know human affairs well enough to begin meddling with the divine? Do they think they can excite or calm the winds and rains at will, or do they have no choice but to satisfy an idle curiosity? Surely they must realize that such matters are beyond human investigation. Just remember how much the greatest men who have tried to research vary in their ostensible results, holding extreme and contrary opinions, like those of maniacs. This was Socrates' view of science and its prospects. It is the same skepticism in essence and carried forward, though here with a religious tone for which the Knights and others so harshly denounce Gorgias. But if you look at things as they were in 440-430 B.C. For an astute man of the time, physics as it was then studied might well have been taken as promising no results; and worse still than appearing barren if, like Socrates, he had a keen eye for how much human happiness was wasted on immorality and correctable ignorance; how much could be gained by devoting the same amount of serious study to the latter subject. It should not be omitted the observation that the objection of Socrates: "You can judge how unfruitful these studies are by how much they differ the students among themselves" continues to be very popular today and can be used once and again against theorists or theoretical arguments in each one. Department.
Socrates wished to limit his hearers' studies to human affairs as opposed to divine affairs, the latter including astronomy and physics. He considered all knowledge from the point of view of human practice, which the gods assigned to man as their own object of study and learning, and with reference to which, therefore, they administered all actual phenomena according to principles of the constant and intelligible. order, so that all who chose to learn could learn while those who didn't care suffered from their neglect. But even with these, the most careful study alone was not enough; because the gods did not deign to subject all phenomena to a constant prehistory and consequence, but reserved the great turns and conjunctures for a special punishment. But here again, if a man had diligently learned all that the gods allowed him to learn; and if, moreover, he were zealous to judge them piously, and obtained special information by prophecy, they would be kind to him, and would announce beforehand how they would proceed to put the finishing touches to it, and settle the indecipherable parts of the problem. . The goodness of the gods in answering through their oracles or conveying information through sacrificial signs or child wonders in cases of grave difficulty was, according to Socrates, one of the clearest proofs of their care for the human race. Seeking access to these prophecies, or hints of some impending special divine intervention, was the sideline of anyone doing their best through patient study. But just as it was folly for a man to ask the gods for specific information about things that would enable him to learn for his own industry, so it was no less folly for him, as an apprentice, to examine what they withheld from them - his own speciality. of will
This was the capital innovation that Socrates made in the subject of Athenian scholarship, bringing philosophy, to use Cicero's phrase, from heaven to earth; and so his attempt to draw the line between what was scientifically detectable and what was not; a remarkable attempt because it shows his conviction that scientific and religious views are mutually exclusive, so that where the latter begins, the former ends. It was an innovation, priceless in relation to the new subject he admitted; unimportant in relation to what it supposedly excludes. For, indeed, science, though partly discouraged, was never wholly excluded by the prevalence of that systematic disapproval which he, like the masses of his day, relished: if it was comparatively neglected, it was owing to the greater popularity and greater abundance and question Affordable than he introduced. The science of physics, or astronomy, was limited in scope, known to a few, and even among those few it could not be expanded upon, encouraged, or brought to very fruitful use in discussions. But the moral and political phenomena on which Socrates shed speculative light were plentiful, varied, familiar, and of interest to all; integral-to translate a Greek phrase he liked to quote-"all the good and the bad that found you in your house"; linked not only to the realities of the present, but also to the literature of the past, through the gnomists and other poets.
The reasons that determined this important innovation in the field of study show Socrates mainly as a religious man and a practical and philanthropic teacher, the hero Xenophon. Innovations of his, not least, in method and doctrine, introduce us to the philosopher and the dialectician; the other side of your character or the platonic hero; though loosely traced, but nevertheless recognized and identified by Xenophon.
“Socrates,” says the latter, “kept incessantly discussing human affairs (the meaning of this word will be understood from what has been said above); Investigate: What is Mercy? What is impiety? What is venerable and low? What is fair and unfair? What is temperance or folly? What is courage or cowardice? What is a city? What character is left to a citizen? What is authority over men? What character corresponds to the exercise of such authority? and other similar issues. Men who knew these things he considered good and honorable; He treated men they didn't know like slaves.
Socrates, says Xenophon elsewhere, believed that the dialectical process consisted in gathering and deliberating together, distinguishing things, and dividing them into genera or families, in order to know what each individual thing really was. It was essential to go through this process carefully, as only then could a person regulate his own behavior, help good causes and prevent bad ones. Having enough practice to be easy to do was essential in making a person a good guide or adviser to others. Of course, any man who had been through the process and knew what each thing was could also define it and explain it to others; but if he did not know, it is not surprising that he himself erred and also caused others to err. Furthermore, Aristotle says: “Without a doubt we can attribute two novelties to Socrates; inductive discourses and the definitions of general terms”.
Here I purposely borrow from Xenophon rather than Plato; for the former, in humbly describing a process which he imperfectly appreciated, identifies him even more fully with the true Socrates, and is therefore a better witness than Plato, whose genius not only conceives him, but greatly enlarges him to his own Educational purpose. Have . With our present knowledge, it takes some intellectual effort to discern anything important in Xenophon's words; so familiar was each student with the ordinary notions and degrees of logic and classification, such as gender, definition, individual things grouped in gender; what each thing is and to what genus it belongs, etc. But as familiar as these words are now, they denote a mental process spoken of in 440-430 B.C. BC few people, except Socrates, had conscious awareness. Of course, people conceived and described things in classes, as is implied by the very form of language and the usual association of predicates with objects in general speech. They explained clearly and forcefully their meaning in individual cases: they established maxims, discussed questions, established premises, and drew conclusions about proceedings in the dicastery or about debates in the assembly: they had a rich poetic literature that appealed to all kinds of emotions: They began to assemble a historical narrative mixed with reflection and criticism. But while all this was done, and often admirably well done, it lacked that analytical awareness which would have enabled anyone to describe, explain, or justify what they were doing. People's ideas (speakers and listeners, productive minds and the receiving crowd) were brought together in groups that led to emotional results, or poetic action, rhetorical and descriptive narrative, rather than methodical generalization, a scientific conception i.e., inductively or proved. deductively. This attention reflex that allows people to understand, compare, and correct their own thought processes was just beginning. It has been a recent novelty on the part of professors of rhetoric to analyze the makings of public speaking and to suggest some rules for making male speakers tolerable. Protagoras made only a few grammatical distinctions, while Prodicus distinguished the meanings of words that were nearly equivalent and easily confused. All these procedures seemed so new at the time that they even ridiculed Plato; and yet they were branches of the same analytic tendency that Socrates was now transferring to scientific investigation. It is doubtful that anyone before him used the words genus and species, which originally meant family and form, in the philosophical sense now exclusively attributed to them. None of those many names, called by-products by logicians, which imply particular attention to different parts of the logical process and enable us to consider and criticize it in detail, existed then. They all arose from the schools of Plato, Aristotle, and the philosophers that followed, so that in their beginnings we can trace them back to the common root and father Socrates.
To understand the full value of Socrates' proposed improvements, we need only examine the intellectual paths taken by his predecessors or contemporaries. Different and specific problems were raised: “What is justice? What is piety, courage, political government? What really mean such great and important names as those relating to the conduct or happiness of man?” Now, it has already been pointed out that Anaxagoras, Empedocles, Democritus, the Pythagoreans, all had such vast and undivided problems before them. to them by the ancient poets, bending their minds to devise a system that would explain them all at once, or helping the imagination to imagine how the cosmos began and how it progressed Ethics and physics, man and nature, all merged: and the Pythagoreans , who explained all nature in terms of numbers and numerical relations, applied the same explanation to moral properties, regarding justice as the symbol of a perfect equation, or four, the first of all square numbers. Early philosophers strove to discover the principles, constituents, mobile cause or causes of things in the mass; but the logical division into genera, species and individuals does not seem to have occurred to them or been the subject of special attention by anyone before Socrates. Study ethics, or human dispositions and purposes, outside the physical world and according to their own theory, relating human well-being and happiness as a supreme and global end; treating each of the large and familiar words denoting moral qualities as logical aggregates encompassing many judgments in particular cases, and signifying a certain harmony or consistency of intention between the separate judgments, comparing many of the latter by a process of dialectical examination, to test consistency and completeness of the logical aggregate or general concept as it was in the mind of every human being: all this was part of the same forward movement that produced Socrates.
Therefore, it was a great advance to break the uncontrollable mass conceived as science by previous philosophers; and ethics separately, with a more or less clear reference to its own purpose. Yes, we see, if we are to trust Plato's "Phaedon", that before Socrates established such a clear division, he had tried, or at least hoped, to build an undivided and reformed system, including physics also under ethics. Final; an optimistic scheme of physics that applied the general idea of "what was best" as the guiding principle from which physical explanations should be derived; which he expected to find in Anaxagoras, but did not. But it was an even greater advance to understand and emphasize in conscious application the essential features of that logical process on the correct execution of which our absolute certainty of common truth depends. The notions of genius, subspecies and individuals, as understood - needless to say here the points in which Plato and Aristotle differed from each other and from the modern understanding of them - were then a newly enlightened consciousness in the human mind. The abundance of logical arrangements used in some of Plato's dialogues, such as the Sophist and the Statesman, seems to be due in part to his desire to acquaint listeners with what was then novel, as well as to develop and diversify it. -there. Application type. He takes advantage of numerous indirect opportunities to bring it up, putting into the mouth of his dialogue responses that imply complete inattention, which are revealed later in the course of Socrates' dialogue. What was now begun by Socrates and perfected by Plato was incorporated by the genius of Aristotle as part of a general system of formal logic; a system which was not only of extraordinary value in connection with the trials and controversies of its day, but which, having worked imperceptibly on the minds of educated men, did much to establish what was right in the habits of modern thought. for shape. Although it has now been extended and reworked by some modern authors - notably Mr. John Stuart Mill in his admirable System of Logic - in a framework compatible with the enormous increase in knowledge and expansion of the positive method that came to pass into the Before today, we must remember that the gap between the best of modern logic and that of Aristotle it is hardly as wide as the gap between Aristotle and those who preceded him by a century, Empedocles, Anaxagoras and the Pythagoreans; and that the movement before the last begins with Socrates.
In Xenophon, Plato and Aristotle, both the growth and the habitual use of logical classification are presented as simultaneous with and dependent on the dialectic. In this methodical discussion, so consistent with the marked sociability of the Greek character, the rapid repetition of brief questions and answers was necessary as a stimulus to attention, at a time when precise and precise reflections on abstract matters were not common. matters. . so little cultivated But Socrates' dialectic had far greater and more important peculiarities than these. We must always see his method in the context of the subjects to whom he applies it. As these matters were not mysterious or private, but related to the practical life of the home, the market, the city, the dicastery, the gymnasium or the temple that everyone knew, Socrates never presented himself as a teacher. nor as a man with new knowledge to impart. On the contrary, he consistently and even demonstratively rejected such claims. But the subjects on which he spoke were only those which all professed to know perfectly and completely, and which each believed he was capable of teaching others, instead of demanding teaching for himself. To questions like these: What is justice? What is mercy? What is a democracy? What is a law? Each man thought he had a safe opinion and even wondered why everyone else was in trouble. When Socrates, professing his ignorance, asked such a question, he found no difficulty in getting an answer, given beforehand and with very little reflection. The answer must be the explanation or definition of a term - familiar but wide and broad in meaning - given by someone who has never before tried to give himself an explanation of what it meant. Having obtained this answer, Socrates formulated new questions and applied them to specific cases to which the respondent was obliged to give inconsistent answers with the first ones; This shows that the definition was either too narrow or too broad or defective in one essential respect. The defendant then changed his answer; but this was a prelude to other questions which could only be answered inconsistently with the amendment; and the interviewee, after many attempts at disentanglement, had to plead guilty to the inconsistencies, admitting that he could not give a satisfactory answer to the original question, which at first seemed so simple and familiar. Or, if he didn't admit it himself, listeners felt it strongly. The dialogue as it is presented to us usually ends with a purely negative result, showing that the interviewee was unable to answer the question posed in a coherent and satisfactory way for him. Socrates, who from the beginning declared that he supported no positive theory, retains to the end the same attitude of a learner who would be glad to solve the difficulty if he could, but regrets having been disappointed by this instruction, which the defendant had promised him. .
Through this description, we see how this remarkable man questioned the extent to which the link between the dialectical method and the logical distribution of details into species and genera was intimate. The discussion first started by Socrates revolves around the meaning of a great generic concept, the questions with which he pursues make the answer given collide with various details that he should not understand, but does; or with other people who should understand but don't. In this way, the latent and undefined bundle of associations that has developed around a familiar concept is, so to speak, permeated by a fermenting yeast, forcing it to expand in recognizable portions and to perform the proper function that the concept should have. become the subject of a different consciousness. The inconsistencies into which the hearer is betrayed in his various responses, announce to him the fact that he has not yet acquired anything like a clear and complete conception of the common thread which brings together the various details grouped under one concept, which always lies on his lips. of territory or perhaps to allow him to see another no less important fact, that there is no such common feature, and that the generalization is merely nominal and fallacious. In any case, he is led to the line of thought that leads to a correction of the generalization and points out to him what Plato asks, to see the one in the many and the many in the one. With no predecessor to copy, Socrates instinctively fell into what Aristotle describes as the two-way dialectical process; break the one into many and recombine the many into one; Socrates fulfilled the first duty, both the first and the most essential, directly through his analytic questioning; Often he did not directly undertake the latter or synthetic procedure, but endeavored to arm and stimulate the listener's mind so that he could do it himself. This and many denote the logical distribution of a diverse topic in broad terms, with a clear understanding of the attributes implied or connoted by each term to distinguish the details to which it actually refers. At a time when such a logical distribution was still new as a matter of conscience, it could hardly have been examined and expounded in spirit by a less rigorous procedure than Socrates' dialectic of interrogation, applied to the analysis of some of Respondent's attempts. apprehend yourself hastened to give a definition; this inductive discourse and search for (clear general terms or) definitions of general terms which Aristotle so aptly notes as his peculiar innovation.
I have already indicated the conviction of the religious mission under which Socrates acted in the pursuit of this system of dialogue and investigation. He probably started cautiously, on a modest scale and under the pressure of logical shame weighing on his own mind. But as he progressed and succeeded, his sincere soul was imbued with devotion to what he considered a duty. It was probably at this time that the sister-friend Charefonte returned from Delphi with the oracular answer, noted a few pages above, to which Socrates himself alludes, which led him to broaden the scope of his conversation and question a group of people about what those what he believed. he had not previously dared address well-known politicians, poets, and craftsmen. He found them more confident than the humblest people in their own wisdom, but equally unable to answer his questions without being led to contradictory answers.
Such proof of famous men in Athens is emphasized in the "Platonic Apology" because it was the main cause of that unpopularity which Socrates immediately deplores before the Dicastes and of which he gives an account. Nor can we doubt that this was the most impressive part of his speech in the eyes of enemies and admirers, and also the most flattering to his own natural temper. Even so, it would be a mistake to present this part of Socrates' general purpose - or his divine mission, if we adopt his own language - as if it were the whole; and to describe him as one who presides only to expose selected leaders, politicians, sophists, poets, or others who, having gained an undeserved reputation, have puffed themselves up with a foolish vanity of their own abilities, and are in fact superficial and incompetent. Such a conception of Socrates is inadequate and wrong. Their conversation, as I have before indicated, was absolutely universal and indiscriminate; while the mental defect which he sought to correct was not altogether peculiar to the leaders, but common to the mass of mankind, though it appeared exaggerated in them, partly because more was expected of them, partly because of the general tendency. the feeling of self-esteem is naturally and fairly higher in their hearts than in ordinary people. That lack was the "appearance and imagination of knowledge without reality" about human life with its duties, purposes and conditions; the knowledge that Socrates emphatically called "human wisdom" and considered essential to the dignity of free man; while other branches of science treated them as superhuman1 and as a curiosity, not only superfluous, but reprehensible. His fight against that false conviction of knowledge, in one man as in another, on these subjects - for in him, I repeat, we must never separate the method from the subject - which is clearly marked even in Xenophon, becomes abundantly and impressively illustrated by the genius prolific of Plato, and formed the true missionary plan which pervaded the last half of his long life; a scheme much broader and also more generous than that anti-Sophistic polemic which so many authors attribute to it as their pre-eminent object.
Following the thread of his research, there was no subject that Socrates insisted on more often than the contrast between people's knowledge of the general affairs of man and society and that possessed by artists or professionals in their respective specialized trades. He reproduced this comparison so continually that his enemies accused him of using it out of hand. Take any man in any particular profession - a carpenter, a brazier, an aviator, a musician, a surgeon - and examine him for his professional knowledge, and you will find that he can understand people and the steps they take. . first was acquired; he can describe to you his general objective, the specific means he employs to achieve the objective, the reason why such means should be employed and why precautions should be taken to combat this particular obstacle and that; he can teach his trade to others, he is considered an authority on matters of his trade, so that no layman thinks of contesting the decision of a surgeon in case of illness or a pilot at sea. But while this is so in relation to any particular art, how great is the contrast in relation to the art of the just, social and useful life, which constitutes, or should constitute, the common business that is equally important to all. ! On this subject, Socrates noted that everyone feels fully informed and confident in their own knowledge; yet no one knew from whom or by what steps he had learned it: no one had ever given any special thought, neither to the ends, nor to the means, nor to the obstacles: no one could explain the ideas in his own mind, or give a coherent explanation explanation. when the proper questions were put to him, they were, No one could teach another, which he concluded, he thought, that there were no professed teachers, and that the sons of the best men were often without merit: each knew for himself, and confidently expounded general propositions, without the other. man to look up to as a know it all; however, there was no end to disagreements and disputes about individual cases.
This was the general contrast that Socrates tried to impress on his listeners by asking a variety of questions relating directly or indirectly to him. One form of exposition that Plato devoted much of his ingenuity to expanding on in dialogue was to discuss whether virtue is really teachable. How did superior men like Aristeides and Pericles acquire the exceptional qualities essential for the leadership and administration of Athens, without learning them from a well-known teacher, having studied music and gymnastics, nor giving their children the same virtues as he could secure? , either through your own agency or through a teacher? Was it not rather the fact that, since virtue was never explicitly taught, it was not really teachable; but granted or withheld by the particular will and grace of the gods? When a man has a young horse to break or train, he has no difficulty in finding a committed trainer, fully acquainted with the habits of the breed, to inculcate the necessary excellence in the animal; but who can he find to teach his children virtue, with the same tentative knowledge and sure result? No, how can anyone teach virtue, or claim that virtue is teachable, unless he is willing to explain what virtue is, and what are the points of analogy and difference between its various branches? justice, temperance, fortitude, prudence, etc.? In several Platonic dialogues, the discussion revolves around the analysis of these last words: “Laches” and “Protagoras” on bravery, “Charmides” on temperance, “Euthyphro” on holiness.
Through this and similar discussions, Socrates and Plato indirectly raised all the important questions concerning society, human aspirations and duties, and the main moral qualities considered virtuous in individuals. As the general terms around which his conversation revolved were among the most up-to-date and familiar in the language, the many details with which he tested the listener's rational understanding and consistent application of such broad terms were chosen from among the most familiar phenomena of the language. everyday life; bring the inconsistency home, if there is an inconsistency, in a way that is obvious to everyone. The answers given to him - not only by ordinary citizens, but also by talented and ingenious men, such as poets or rhetoricians - when asked to explain the moral concepts and ideas contained in their own compositions, likewise revealed this state of mind. against which his crusade was directed, commanded and ordered by the oracle at Delphi, the appearance and imagination of knowledge without real knowledge. They proclaimed a confident and resolute conviction about the greatest and most serious problems that affect man and society, in the hearts of people who never thought about them enough to realize that they presented some difficulty. Such a conviction had grown up gradually and unconsciously, partly through authoritative communication, partly through imperceptible transmission from others; The process begins before reason as skill, continues with little help and control from reason, and is never finally revised. With the great common concepts and phrases about human life and society, a complex network of associations built up from innumerable details, each trivial in itself and lost in memory, assembled by a powerful feeling and absorbed by everything. speak, in the atmosphere of authority and example around him. Upon this foundation did imaginary knowledge really rest; and reason, if invoked, was invoked simply as the servant, explainer, or apologist of the preexisting state of mind; as an aftermarket accessory, not as a test or verification. They all found these beliefs in their own minds without knowing how they got there; and he has witnessed them in others as part of a general background of unexamined platitudes and credibility. As the words were simultaneously of great importance, embodied in ancient and familiar mental processes and surrounded by a strong emotional body, the general statements in which they were embodied seemed obvious and convincing to everyone: so that, despite the constant dispute in individual cases, no one felt compelled to analyze the general propositions themselves or to consider whether they had verified their meaning and could use them sensibly and consistently.
The phenomenon referred to here is too obvious even today to require a more detailed explanation as a fact. In morals, in politics, in economics, in all matters affecting man and society, the same confident belief in knowledge without reality abounds: the same generation and dissemination of beliefs unsupported by authority and example. feeling, unaware of the stages or conditions of its growth; the same preoccupation with reason as the one-sided defender of prefabricated feeling; the same delusion, because every man is familiar with the language, that therefore every man is a master of the complex facts, judgments, and tendencies implied in their meaning, and competent to use broad words and truth or falsehood in Grand Suggestions. accept without analysis or special study.
However, there is an important difference between our time and that of Socrates. In his day, impressions were of the same self-propagating, self-propagating, anti-scientific character, not only in relation to man and society, but also in relation to the physical world. The popular astronomy of the Socratic age was a collection of primitive and superficial observations and fanciful inferences passed unexamined from older men to younger men, accepted with unsuspecting faith and hallowed by intense feelings. Not only men like Nikias or Anytus and Melitus, but even Socrates himself protested against Anaxagoras' impudence in reducing the divine Helois and Selene to the sun and moon of predictable size and motion. But now the development of the scientific point of view, with the enormous increase in physical and mathematical methodological knowledge, has taught everyone that such primitive astronomical and physical beliefs were nothing more than "an illusion of knowledge without reality". All give up without hesitation, seek their conclusions from the scientific teacher and seek their guarantee only in demonstrations. A man who has never given special study to astronomy knows that he does not know it; to imagine that he tasted it without such preparation would be absurd. Although the scientific view has thus achieved complete mastery in relation to the physical world, it has developed relatively little in human and social affairs where "fantasy-knowledge without reality" does not continue to reign without criticism or resistance. but as a supreme force. And if a new Socrates were now on the market to ask the same questions of men of all classes and professions, he would find the same firm conviction and the same clueless dogmatism about generalities; such as hesitation, blindness, and contradiction when proven by cross-examination of details.
In Socrates' time this last comparison was not overt; as there was no scientifically structured doctrine on any subject, the comparison which he actually made, drawn from special trades and professions, led him to an important result. He was the first to recognize, and the idea permeates all his speculations, that as in any art or profession there is an end to be attained, a theory which lays down the means and conditions by which it may be attained, and the prescriptions derived from it. . . this theory, such prescriptions taken collectively to guide and cover almost the entire field of practice, but each prescription considered individually can conflict with others and, therefore, be the subject of exceptional cases; All this, then, is no less true and no less achievable respecting the general art of human life and society. There is a grand and overarching end goal: the safety and happiness, as far as possible, of all people in society: there may be a theory setting out the means and conditions by which that end may be most nearly achieved; there may also be precepts which dictate to each man the conduct and character which best suits him to become a helper in the attainment of that end, and strictly discourage the actions which tend to hinder it; precepts derived from theory, each of which, taken separately, is subject to exceptions, but together they govern practice, as in each individual art. Socrates and Plato speak of "the art of dealing with people", "the art of behaving in society", "that science whose aim is to make people happy", and make a clear distinction between art or Rules of Practice derived from a theoretical study of the subject and taught with anticipation of the purpose, and sheer skill, unreasonable and unreasonable, or skill acquired by simple copying or assimilation, by a process that no one could explain.
Plato, with that variety of oblique allusions peculiar to him, continually forces the reader to consider that human and social life has its own aims and ends, no less than each individual profession or craft; and obliges him to transfer to the former that conscious analysis as a science and intelligent practice as an art, which in the latter are known as conditions of success. To promote these rational conceptions of "science and art", Socrates undertook his crusade against "that presumption of knowledge without reality" which reigned undisturbed in the moral world around him and was only slightly disturbed where the physical world was concerned. To him the inscription "Know thyself" inscribed on the temple at Delphi was the holiest of all scriptures, which he constantly quoted and vigorously exhorted his hearers; interpret it in the sense of "knowing what kind of man you are and what your abilities are in relation to human use". His presentation was both original and effective in equal measure, and although he was adept at varying his topics and questions according to the person he was dealing with, his first aim was to get the listener to gauge his own measure. genuine knowledge or genuine ignorance. Preaching, admonishing and even refuting individual errors seemed pointless to Socrates as long as the mind was shrouded in its usual fog or illusion of wisdom: that fog had to clear before new light could enter. As the hearer was normally ready to proclaim affirmative explanations of those general teachings and explanations of those terms to which he was most attached and in which he had the most absolute confidence, Socrates dissected them and showed that they implied contradiction and inconsistency; He admits to having no positive opinion, nor does he offer one until the listener's mind has been subjected to a proper purification interrogation.
It was this indirect and negative process which, though only part of the whole, emerged as its most primal and conspicuous feature, and determined its reputation among large numbers of people who did not bother to know anything more about it. It was an exposition as painful as it was surprising for the interviewee, and caused several of them to distance themselves permanently, so that they never approached him again, but returned to their previous state of mind without permanence. change. But, on the other hand, the ingenuity and novelty of the process turned out to be very interesting for the listeners, especially for the young, children of the rich and idle workers; who not only carried with them a high degree of admiration for Socrates, but also enjoyed trying to copy his negative polemics. It is likely that men like Alcibiades and Kritias frequented their society primarily to acquire a quality they could use in their political careers. His constant habit of never leaving a general concept undefined, but immediately applying it to particulars; the simple and effective examples from which you made your choice; the series of questionnaires, each leading to a result no one expected; the roundabout and clumsy way in which the subject was turned around and finally approached and expounded from a very different face, all represented a kind of prerogative in Socrates that no one else seems to have come close to. His impact was reinforced by a very plausible and engaging voice and manner and, to some extent, by the eccentricity of his mute countenance. What was called "his irony", or taking on the role of an ignorant student requesting information from someone who knew more than he did, while essential as an excuse for his practice as an interrogator, also helped to gain momentum and add novelty to his conversation . ; and hence utterly forbidden both didactic pedantry and apparent partiality as a lawyer; which was no small advantage for someone who talked so much. After he became famous, this uniform confession of ignorance was generally interpreted in debates as mere affectation; and those who listened to him only now and then, without invading his privacy, often suspected that he amused himself with brilliant paradoxes. Consequently, Timon the satirist and Zeno the Epicurean described him as a buffoon who ridiculed everyone, especially important men.
The negative and indirect vein of Socrates was elaborated and immortalized by Plato; while Xenophon, who had little sympathy for him, complains that others view their teacher exclusively from this side, and may not see him as a guide to virtue, but only as a stimulating and moving force. One of the main purposes of his "Memorabilia" is to show that, after having sufficiently tormented the novices with the negative question, Socrates changed his tone, refrained from embarrassing them, and gave them recipes no less clear and simple than those which can be used directly. in practice. I have no doubt that this was often the case, and that the various dialogues in which Xenophon introduces us to the philosopher of moderation, temperance, piety, paternal duty, brotherly love, fidelity in friendship, industriousness, benevolence, etc. reasons a true picture of a valuable side of your character and an integral part of the whole. Socrates shared this direct admonitory influence with Prodicus and the best sophists.
Yet it is not from the virtue of his life nor the goodness of his precepts - though both were essential traits of his character - that he derives his special title to fame, but from his originality and prolific efficiency in the line of speculation. . Philosophy. The first part of this originality, as we have just said, was that he was the first to conceive the idea of an ethical science with its own purpose and with principles open to testing and improvement; but the second, and no less important, point was his peculiar method and his extraordinary ability to awaken scientific impulses and abilities in the minds of others. This effect was not produced by positive teaching. Both Socrates and Plato believed that little mental improvement could be achieved through directly communicated exposition or through new written content that was retained in memory. It required the mind to work mind over mind, through brief questions and answers or a specialized application of the dialectical process, to generate new thoughts and forces; process that Plato, with his exuberant imagination, compares to copulation and pregnancy, and presents it as the true and only effective way of propagating the philosophical spirit.
We would greatly misinterpret Socrates' negative and indirect trait if we assumed that it ends in nothing more than a simple negation. With minds busy or talentless, with the indiscriminate public that heard it, it probably left little lasting effect, ending up in a mere feeling of admiration for intelligence, or perhaps revulsion at the paradox: with practical minds like Xenophon, it was its effect that he entered into society. prescriptive admonition: but where the seed fell on an intellect that had the least disposition or capacity for systematic thought, the negation had only the effect of first repelling the hearer, then giving him a new impetus to advance. The Socratic dialectic that freed the mind from its fog of imaginary knowledge and exposed real ignorance produced an immediate torpedo-like effect: the newly created awareness of ignorance was unexpected, painful and humiliating in equal measure - a time of doubt. and restlessness; but combined with an inner work and a longing for the truth never experienced before. Such an intellectual renaissance, which could never begin until the mind freed itself from its original illusion of false knowledge, was seen by Socrates not only as an index and precursor, but as an indispensable condition for future progress. It was the midpoint of the ascending mental scale; the lowest point is ignorance, unconscious, complacent and mistaken knowledge; the next superior, ignorant, exposed, ashamed of himself and thirsty for knowledge he does not yet possess; while real knowledge, the third and highest level, could only be attained after passing through the second preliminary level. That second was kind of embarrassing; and any mind which was intrinsically incapable of this, or in which it never arose for want of the necessary connection, was barren for all purposes of original or self-acquired thought. Socrates considered it his vocation and special ability to use another Platonic metaphor, while he himself lacked the procreative capacity to deal with minds as pregnant and troubled as a midwife; to assist them in the spiritual birth by which they would be relieved, but at the same time to examine the offspring they had borne; and if it is distorted or unpromising, discard it with the rigor of a liturgical nurse, whatever may be the reluctance of the mother spirit to part with her newborn. There is nothing that Plato can more fruitfully illustrate than this relationship between teacher and pupil, working not with what he put into the latter, but what he developed out of it; creating an uneasy longing for the truth, assisting in the elaboration necessary to obtain relief, and examining whether the doctrine elaborated has the real characteristics or only the deceptive appearance of the truth.
Few things are more remarkable than Socrates' description of colloquial magic and its vehement effects on those who heard it and felt its power. Its suggestive and stimulating power was such an extraordinary gift that it justified the profusion of Plato's images to illustrate it. On the subjects to which he devoted himself, man and society, his listeners did little more than feel and affirm: Socrates promised to make them reflect, weigh and examine their own judgments until they were reconciled with each other, as well as with an end known and honored. The generalizations contained in his judgments came together and fused in a way at once so intimate, so familiar, and yet so uncorroborated, that the details they contained were neglected: so that Socrates, when forgetful of these details of a experience, presents the listener with her own opinion from a whole new perspective. Their conversations - even if they appear in Xenophon's interpretation, which represents only a mere skeleton of reality - present the main characteristics of a genuine inductive method, fighting against the deep but imperceptible defects of the first intellectual action by itself, unconscious. scientific march or leadership, - thethe mind took liberty—in which bacon stops so emphatically. in the midst of an abundance ofnegative instances, whose scientific value lies in the "Novum Organon", and also negative examples so cunningly chosen that they generally point the way to a new truth, rather than the error they ward off, end up pressing the listener's mind to keep it private, as a condition of any fair and consistent generalization; and to prevent him from enslaving himself to unexamined formulas, or surrendering mere persuasion under the authoritative sentence of reason. Rather than endeavoring to implant in the listener a conclusion readily accepted with confidence, the questioner maintains a prolonged suspense, placing special emphasis on both positive and negative details; nor is its purpose served until that state of comprehensive knowledge and evidence is created from which the conclusion emerges as a living product, with a self-sustaining root and force of its own, consciously connected with its premises. If the conclusion thus produced is not the same as that assumed by the questioner himself, it will at least be another one, worthy of a competent and examining mind taking its own view independent of the relevant evidence. And for all the variety and divergence of details which we find constrained in Socrates' language, the end to which they all point is one and the same, emphatically, the well-being and happiness of social man.
Therefore, the objective is not to increase proselytes or obtain the approval of the authorities, but to create fervent seekers, analytical intellectuals, coherent agents and with a vision of the future, capable of reasoning for themselves and teaching others, as well as them. about them. To force inductive generalization. , who is the only one who can draw reliable conclusions, which the Socratic method strives for. In many of the Platonic dialogues, in which Socrates is presented as the main contender, we read a series of discussions and arguments which are different, though related to the same subject, but which end with either a purely negative result or no particular result. result at all. Commentators have often tried, but I think with little success, either by arranging the dialogues in a presumed order or by various other hypotheses, to ascribe a positive doctrinal conclusion to the author's indirect contemplation. But if Plato had been able to aim at such a substantive demonstration, we cannot imagine that he would have left his intention so obscure, visible only through a critical microscope, but in the argumentative process itself, linked to the general sense of the subject to which he refers. . . Both negative and positive evidence are applied.
This follows what I indicated in the previous chapter by mentioning Zeno and the first manifestations of the dialectic in relation to the great impulse, the eclectic argument and the strength and advance of the negative arm in Greek speculative philosophy. Through Socrates, this breadth of the dialectical realm passed first from Zeno to Plato and then to Aristotle. It was a natural process for men who were not only interested in confirming or disproving a particular conclusion, but also - as experienced mathematicians in their own science - loved, valued and had the means to improve the dialectical process itself. verification you performed; a sentiment of which there is ample evidence in Platonic writings. Such pleasure in scientific work, though not only innocent, but valuable as a stimulant and guarantee against error, and although good taste is always treated among mathematicians with the sympathy it deserves, attracts much undeserved reproach from modern historians. under the name of disputed love, sophistry, or skeptical subtlety.
But beyond any love of process, the themes to which the dialectic was applied from Socrates onwards, man and society, ethics, politics, metaphysics, etc., were those particularly required of this multifaceted treatment. In questions like these, which concern sequences of events depending on a multiplicity of competing or conflicting causes, it is impossible to arrive, by a single strand of positive reasoning or induction, at an absolute doctrine which can be expected to be always true. whether or not he remembers the test; as is the case with mathematical, astronomical or physical truth. The most that science can discover about such complicated matters is an accumulation, not of theorems and absolute predictions, but of trends; studying the effect of each individual cause and combining them as best as possible. A knowledge of the trends thus obtained, though far from certain, is of paramount importance for guidance: but it is clear that conclusions of this kind, drawn from various lines of evidence, are true only as a whole and always have qualifications. they can never be safely separated from the evidence on which they rest, or taught as absolute and sacred formulas. And this objective cannot be achieved in any other way than through renewed discussions, conducted from new and different points of view, and with free play for the negative arm, which is indispensable both as a stimulus and as a control. Demanding nothing but results, rejecting the work of verification, contenting oneself with a collection already made up of positive arguments established as evidence, and denouncing as a common enemy or skeptic the negative thinker who creates new difficulties is a practice used both in antiquity and in ancient times. antiquity is also widespread enough in modern times. But it is nevertheless a renunciation of the dignity and even the functions of speculative philosophy. It is the direct inversion of the method of Socrates and Plato, who, as researchers, felt the emergence of multiple threads of argumentation combined with the constant presence of the interrogation of the great questions they dealt with.listThey were indispensable. He is no less at variance with the views of Aristotle - though a very different man from both - who runs away from his subject on all sides, observing and contemplating all its difficulties, and emphatically insisting on the necessity of bringing all these difficulties to the forefront. surfaced. in full force, as a stimulus and guide to positive philosophy, and as a proof of its sufficiency.
If we understand Socrates' method in this way, we cannot fail to explain a certain deviation on his part - and an even greater deviation from Plato, who extended the method much further in writing - with the sophists, without accepting the latter. as corrupt teachers. In order to qualify young people for an active life, they accepted the prevailing ethical and political climate, with its unexamined platitudes and contradictions, and simply sought to mold them into what was considered meritorious character in Athens. They were thus exposed along with others - and more than others, following their calling - they were subjected to Socrates' analytical interrogation and were able to defend themselves so little.
Whatever the success of Protagoras, or any other among these sophists, Socrates' tremendous originality produced results not only equal at the time, but incomparably greater and more lasting in the future. From his intellectual school sprang not only Plato, himself an innkeeper, but all the other leaders of Greek speculation in the next half-century and all those who continued the great line of speculative philosophy in later ages. Eukledes and the Megarid school of philosophy, Aristippus and the Cyrenes, Antisthenes and Diogenes, the first of the so-called Cynics, all grew more or less directly from the encouragement provided by Socrates, although each followed a different line of thought. Ethics remains what Socrates made first, a branch of philosophy in its own right, alongside which politics, rhetoric, logic, and other speculations about man and society were grouped; they were all more popular and more controversial than physics, which at the time offered comparatively little charm and even less achievable certainty. There is no doubt that the individual influence of Socrates permanently broadened the horizons, improved the method and multiplied the emerging minds of the Greek speculative world in a way never before equaled. Later philosophers may have had more elaborate teachings and a larger number of disciples to absorb their ideas; but none of them used the same stimulating method with the same effectiveness; none of them extinguished in other minds that fire which kindles the original thought; none of them produced in others the pangs of intellectual pregnancy, nor awakened in others the fresh, unborrowed bud of a truly fertile mind.
Having addressed Socrates, both as the first to open the field of ethics to scientific study, and as the author of a method little copied and incomparable since his time, for stimulating serious analytical investigation in the minds of others, I speak finally of your theory. teaching. Given the imaginative and implausible ideas upon which the Pythagoreans and other predecessors built their theories of virtue and vice, it is surprising that Socrates, having no better guides, established an ethical doctrine that has double merit as far as it goes. to be true, legitimate and of wide generality: although it errs, mainly when enunciating part of the essential conditions of virtue -sometimes also part of the ethical end- as if it were the whole. Socrates resolved all virtues into knowledge or wisdom; all vices, in ignorance or madness. Doing the right thing was the only way to instil happiness, or the minimum amount of unhappiness compatible with a given situation: now that was exactly what everyone wanted and aspired to; just that many people have taken the wrong path out of ignorance; and no man was wise enough to always choose what is right. But just as no one willingly made himself an enemy, so no one willingly did evil; because you have not been fully or correctly informed of the consequences of your own actions; then the real remedy was an enlarged teaching of consequences and improved discernment. In order for him to be ready to be taught, the only condition required was to make him aware of his own ignorance; lack of conscience was the root cause of both insubordination and addiction.
It is true that this doctrine lays down part of the essential conditions of virtue; and this is also the most imperative part, since there can be no safe moral conduct except under the supremacy of reason. But it is also true that it does not attend to what is no less essential in virtue, the right state of feelings, desires, etc., by considering the intellect alone; and was pointed out by Aristotle, as well as by many others. In my opinion, it is futile to try to discover, by refined explanation, that Socrates meant by "knowledge" something more than is directly implied by the word. He had imagined that man's great depravity was less vice than madness; that state in which a person does not know what he is doing. Against malevolent man security, both public and private, may be taken to considerable effect; against the madman there is no more security than eternal containment. He is incapable of any of the duties that belong to a social man, nor can he, even if he wants to, do good to himself or others. Indeed, the feeling we feel for such an unhappy being is very different from the moral reproach we feel for a malicious person who knowingly does evil. But Socrates measured both against the ends of human life and society, declaring the latter less completely depraved for these ends than the former. Madness was ignorance of the highest order, accompanied by the fact that the madman himself was unaware of his own ignorance and genuinely believed that he knew what he was doing. But beyond this extreme there were many variations and gradations in the scale of ignorance, which, when accompanied by a false presumption of knowledge, differed only in the degree of madness, and each of these disqualified a man in proportion to his degree of knowledge. insanity. what i had to do. thing that covered The worst of all ignorance, the closest to madness, was when a man did not know himself and thought he knew what he really did not know and that he could do, avoid or bear what was beyond his capacity. for instance, when he tried to say the same truth, he said now one thing, now the other; or, setting up the same arithmetic figures, they sometimes made a larger sum, sometimes a smaller sum. A person who knows letters, or an arithmetician, can certainly write wrongly or misalign on purpose, but he can also do the operations correctly if he wants to; while someone who cannot write or count cannot do it well, though he must try. The first is therefore closer to a good speller or arithmetic than the second. Thus, if anyone knows what is just, honorable, and good, but commits contrary acts, he is more just, or approaches a just man, than he who does not know what just actions are and does not distinguish them from unjust ones. any; because he cannot behave justly, no matter how much he wants to.
The opinion here represented impressively illustrates the general teaching of Socrates. I have already indicated that the basic idea which governed his train of thought was the analogy of the social life of every human being and the duty of a particular profession or trade. Now, what is demanded above all from these men in particular is their professional capacity; without that no one would ever think of hiring them, however good their dispositions; Good humor and diligence are assumed unless otherwise positively indicated. But why do we indulge in such presumption? As your financial interest, professional position and position among your competitors are about to succeed, we are counting on your best efforts. But in relation to that varied and indefinite series of actions which constitute the sum total of social duties, man has no interest so special as to guide and impel him, nor can we presuppose in him those dispositions which assure him that he does what is right. right. thing. Whatever he does, wherever he is, he knows what's right. Humanity is bound to pay premiums for these dispositions, and to punish contrary ones with praise and blame; moreover, the natural sympathies and antipathies of ordinary minds, which so strongly determine the application of moral concepts, spontaneously run in that direction, and even exceed the limit which reason would dictate. The analogy between the special contribution paid and the general social security contribution fails in this regard. Even if Socrates were right about the first - and this would be far from true - in allowing the intellectual conditions of good behavior to represent the whole, such a conclusion could not safely be extended to the second.
Socrates said that man's noblest pursuit is to do good. Doing good consisted in doing a thing well after learning and practicing it by reasonable and proper means; it was very different from luck or success without rational planning and preparation. “The best man (said he) and the most beloved of the gods is he who, as an agriculturist, performs well the duties of agriculture; as a surgeon, those of the medical art; in political life his duty to the community. But he who does no good is neither useful nor acceptable to the gods." This is the Socratic view of human life; seeing it as a collection of realities and practical details; translating the big words of moral vocabulary into those everyday details to which essentially refer to; to consider acts, not dispositions which are not the act (contrary to the ordinary flow of moral sympathies); to impose on all that what he chiefly needed was to teach and practice as preparations for action; and that, therefore, , ignorance, especially ignorance mistaking itself for knowledge, was its lack of capital. The religion of Socrates, like his ethics, was concerned with practical human ends, and no one ever had that transcendentalism less in his mind than his scholar Plato displays it so abundantly.
It is undeniable, then, that Socrates formulated a very narrow general ethical theory, expressing a part of the truth as if it were the whole. But, as is often the case with philosophers who make the same mistake, we find that he did not confine his deductive reasoning to the bounds of theory, but escaped erroneous consequences by partial contradiction. For example; no one ever insisted more strongly than he did on the necessity of controlling the passions and desires, of enforcing good habits, and on the value of the state of feeling and emotion which tended to constitute such a course. Indeed, this is a distinctive feature of his admonitions. He exhorted men to limit their external needs, to be patiently parsimonious, and to cultivate the pleasures that would surely come from duty, self-examination and conscience, even before honor and progress, internal improvement. Such serious attention in measuring the elements and conditions of happiness to the state of internal associations as opposed to the effects of external causes, as well as the efforts made to clarify how dependent the latter are on the former for their power to confer happiness. , and how sufficient is a moderate happiness in relation to the outward, provided the inward man is properly disciplined, is a current of thought which permeated Socrates and Plato, and passed from them, under various modifications, to most of them. ethics schools. Philosophy. Protagoras or Prodicus, who educate rich young men to an active life without entirely omitting that inner element of happiness, will probably dwell even less on this; a point of decided superiority with Socrates.
Socrates' political views were very similar to his ethics and deserve special attention, as they contributed in part to his condemnation by the Dicastery. He believed that the functions of government legitimately belonged to those who best knew how to exercise them for the benefit of the governed. “He who held the scepter was not a legitimate king or governor, nor was he chosen by any people, nor was he the one who took office by lot, nor was he the one who entered by force or fraud, but only he knew how to do it. . govern well." As the pilot reigned aboard a ship, the surgeon in a hospital, the instructor in a lecture; all the rest were eager to obey these professional superiors, even thanking and rewarding them for their instructions, simply because his greater knowledge was an accepted fact.It is absurd, said Socrates, to choose civil servants by lot if no one on board would give himself up to the care of a randomly chosen pilot, any more than a carpenter or a musician.
We do not know what arrangements Socrates suggested for applying his principle in practice, for finding out who was the strongest man in terms of knowledge, or for replacing him if he became incapacitated or someone more able than he should appear. The analogies of the pilot, the surgeon and professionals in general would naturally lead him to popular election, renewable for temporary periods; because none of these professionals, no matter how high their positive knowledge, is ever trusted or obeyed except by free choice of those who trust them, being able to choose another one at any time. But it does not seem that Socrates followed this part of the analogy. His colleagues told him that their main intellectual ruler would be a despot who could refuse to listen to good advice or even kill those who gave it to him if he wanted to. "He won't do that," replied Socrates, "because if he does, he himself will be the biggest loser."
In this teaching of Socrates we can see the same imperfection as in the ethical teaching; a willingness to let the intellectual conditions of political propriety represent the whole. His negative political doctrine is unmistakable: he supported neither democracy nor the oligarchy. Clinging to the Athenian constitution neither by sentiment nor conviction, he sympathized with oligarchic usurpers like 430. His ideal positive state, so far as we can guess, would have been something like that elaborated in Xenophon's "Cyropedia."
In describing Socrates' persevering activity as a religious and intellectual missionary, we are really describing his life; because he had no other occupation than this constant intercourse with the Athenian public; his random conversation and his invincible dialectic. He loyally and courageously discharged his duties as a hoplite in the military service, but he abstained from official duties in the dicastery, the public assembly, or the senate, except in that memorable year of the Battle of Arginusae, and he indulged none of these enmities. .partisans that an active public life in Athens often provoked. His life was legally impeccable, and he was never educated before the dicastery until his last examination at age seventy. This in 423 B.C. before Christ, when Aristophanes' "Clouds" were brought on stage, he stood out in the public eye, one thing is certain, perhaps he was and was remarkable before: so that we can hardly admit that he was under thirty older. public discussions, notorious and effective until his trial in 399 BC.
In that year Melitus, supported by two auxiliaries, Anytus and Lykon, drew up an indictment against him, and placed an indictment against him in the appointed place, the porch in front of the office of the second or royal archon, in these terms: "Socrates finds himself guilty of crimes: first, for not worshiping the gods that the city worships, but for introducing new deities of his own, then, for youthful corruption. The penalty due is... death.
It is true that neither Socrates' behavior nor speech underwent any change for many years; for his uniformity of speech is both derided by his enemies and confessed by himself. Our first feeling, beyond the question of guilt or innocence, is therefore one of astonishment that he should be prosecuted at the age of seventy for persisting in a profession which he has publicly pursued for the last twenty-five or thirty years. Xenophon, admired by his teacher, takes the matter to a much higher level, expressing a sense of indignation and astonishment that the Athenians should find anything to condemn in a man so admirable in every respect. But anyone who carefully considers the picture I have drawn of Socrates' purpose, work, and extraordinary publicity will be more inclined to wonder whether the charge was not made last, but not long before. This is certainly the impression conveyed by Socrates' own language in the Platonic Apology. There he emphatically proclaims that, although his present accusers were respectable men, it was neither their enmity nor their eloquence that he should now chiefly fear; but the accumulated force of antipathy, the many important personal enemies, each with sympathetic sympathizers, the long-standing and indisputable slurs leveled against him during his career as an interrogator.
Indeed, Socrates' mission, as he himself describes it, was bound to prove extremely unpopular and repugnant. Convincing a man that he really is profoundly ignorant of things he thought he knew and never thought to question or even study, in the sense that he cannot answer a few pertinent questions without falling into glaring contradictions to involve an operation that is too healthy and often necessary for their future improvement; but a painful surgical operation, in which, in fact, the pain felt is sometimes one of the almost indispensable conditions for future beneficial results. It is something few men can bear without instantly hating the operator; though doubtless this hatred would not only disappear, but would be exchanged for esteem and admiration if they were retained until the full effects of the operation were developed. But we know from Xenophon's explicit testimony that many of those who experienced that first sharp stroke of his dialectic never approached him again: he ignored them as stragglers, but their voices counted no less in the hostile chorus. What made this choir most impressive was the high quality and position of its leaders. For Socrates himself tells us, that the men whom he chiefly and expressly went to for questioning were the men famous as statesmen, rhetoricians, poets, or craftsmen; those who are both most sensitive to such humiliation and most able to make their enmity effective.
When we reflect on this large body of antipathies, so frightful in number and in their components, we cannot help marveling that Socrates could have taken so long in the market to aggravate them, and that the case against Melitos could have been delayed for a while. . While. . See you soon; since it was as true as later, and since the sensitivity of the people to accusations of irreligion was a well-known fact. The truth is that history only presents us with a man who one day dedicated his life to fulfilling this duty.list, or interrogation missionary, then there was but one city, at least in the ancient world, where he would be permitted to pursue them safely and with impunity for twenty-five years; and that city was Athens. I pointed out in an earlier volume the respect for individual difference in opinion, taste, and behavior toward each other that characterized the Athenian population and that Pericles emphasized as part of his eulogy. It was this established liberality of democratic sentiment in Athens which prevented Socrates' noble eccentricity from being so long disturbed by the numerous enemies he provoked: at Sparta, at Thebes, at Argos, Miletus, or Syracuse; his impeccable life would not have been a sufficient shield, and his irresistible dialectical power would have silenced him long before. Intolerance is the natural weed of the human breast, though its growth or development may be counteracted by liberalizing causes; Of these, the most powerful in Athens was the democratic constitution as it operated there, combined with a pervasive intellectual and aesthetic sensibility and a lively delight in discourse. Freedom of speech was ranked among the first privileges of popular opinion; Everyone was used to constantly hearing opposing opinions and believing that others had the same right to an opinion as he did. And though the people did not normally extend this tolerance to religious matters, established habit in regard to other matters greatly influenced their practice, and rendered them still more averse to any positive severity towards avowed dissenters from established religious belief. It is true that in Athens there was greater intellectual excitement and greater freedom of thought and expression than in any other city in Greece. Socrates' long endurance exemplifies this general fact, while his trial and execution speak little against him, as will shortly be shown.
It must have been special circumstances, about which we know little, which persuaded his accusers to bring forward their charges at the time, despite Socrates' advanced age.
First, Anytus, one of Socrates' accusers, seems to have been angry with him for private reasons. Anytus's son expressed an interest in the conversation, and Socrates, noting the youth's spiritual impulses and promises, endeavored to dissuade his father from training him in his own trade as a leather merchant. In this general way, much of the antipathy against Socrates was aroused, as he himself tells us in the Platonic Apology. The youth were those to whom he principally addressed, and who, enjoying his conversation very much, often brought home new ideas that displeased their parents; hence the general charge against Socrates of corrupting the youth. Now this circumstance had lately occurred in the peculiar case of Anytus, a wealthy merchant, a man prominent in politics, and of special influence in the city now, as he had been one of Thrasybulos' chief collaborators in the expulsion of the Thirty. , manifest a vigorous and meritorious patriotism. He, like Thrasybulus and many others, suffered a great loss of fortune. during oligarchic rule; which perhaps made him even more energetic when he demanded that his son negotiate zealously to restore the family fortune. Furthermore, he seems to have been an enemy of all doctrine beyond the narrowest practical application, hating both Socrates and the Sophists.
Though we can point to a recent incident that drove one of the city's most promising politicians into particular despair. Socrates, another circumstance that depressed him was his former association with the late Critias and Alcibiades. Of these two men, the latter, though he had some great admirers, was generally hated; the more for his private insolence and monstrosity than for his public betrayal as an exile. But the name of Kritias was hated more than any other man in Athenian history, and deservedly hated as the chief director of the countless looting and atrocities committed by the Thirty.
The accusers confirmed that Socrates had created Critias and Alcibiades, and apparently the general public believed this and then. That both, in their youth, were among those who spoke with him is an undeniable fact; to what extent or how long the conversation was carried on, we cannot unequivocally establish. Xenophon claims that the two frequented his company as young men to get an argument from him that might serve his political ambitions; that he suppressed his violent and licentious tendencies while they continued to come to him; that both showed him a respectful obedience which did not seem to be in keeping with their natural temperaments; but who soon gave up, weary of such reticence, having acquired all that they thought proper to their particular conquest. Plato's writings, on the other hand, impress us with the idea that his association with Socrates must have been more continuous and intimate; for both are made to take a keen interest in the Platonic dialogues, while Socrates' bond with Alcibiades is shown to be stronger than he ever felt for any other man; an achievement not difficult to explain, since the latter, despite his irrepressible inclinations, in his youth was distinguished not less by skill and urgency than by beauty; and how youthful beauty fired the imagination of the Greeks, especially Socrates, more than the charms of the opposite sex. From the year 420 BC. It seems unlikely that he saw much of Socrates, and after 415 BC, when Alcibiades began his activity as a political leader. the fact is impossible; since he went into permanent exile that year, except for three or four months in 407.B.C. Thus, at the time of Socrates' trial, at least his association with Alcibiades must have been a distant fact. If we respect criticism, we care less; and as he was a relative at his trial, and himself a learned and learned man, his association with Socrates may have lasted longer; at least that statement got a color. Though the conjecture that some of the vices of Critias or Alcibiades was encouraged or even condoned by Socrates can only have arisen in prejudiced or ill-informed minds, it is certain that such a conjecture was entertained; and that after the atrocities of the Thirty placed him before the public in a different position. Anytus, already outraged by his son, would be doubly outraged by him as Critias's supposed guardian.
Of Melito, the first, if not the most important, accuser, we only know that he was a poet; from Lykon that he was a rhetorician. These two classes had been alienated by the dialectic of interrogation to which Socrates had subjected many of them. They were the last men to patiently bear such exposure, and their animosity, rarely received unanimously as a class, was truly impressive when it affected a single individual.
We know nothing of the speeches of the two accusers before the Dicastery, except what can be deduced from Xenophon's commentaries and the Defense of Plato. Of the three charges, the second was the easiest for her to support for plausible reasons. That Socrates was a religious innovator would be proved by the special divine sign that he was accustomed to speaking freely and openly, visiting no one but himself. Hence, in the Platonic defense, he never answers this second charge. He questions Melitus before the dicastery, and the latter presents himself in reply as wanting to accuse Socrates of not believing in the gods at all; Socrates responds to this implicit disbelief with a resounding no. Nothing in his behavior, however, could be adduced for the first charge, the charge of general disbelief in the recognized gods of the city; for he was in his just cult like the other citizens, and even more so than others, if Xenophon be right, with similar efforts by Eupolis and others, perhaps less ingenious, was in progress; strong proof that these comedians were not powerless detractors. Sócrates shows greater concern for the effect of the old impressions than for the speeches that have just been pronounced against him: but these last speeches, presumably, would tell the story, refreshing the feelings of the past and reviving the Aristophanic image of Socrates as a speculator of the Physics. as well as a masterful rhetoric of appeals that make the worst seem the best. Socrates, in the Platonic defense, appeals to the number of people who heard his speech, if any of them ever heard him say a word on the subject of physical studies; while Xenophon goes further and describes him as positively rejecting her for impiety.
Since there were three different accusers who spoke against Socrates, we can reasonably assume that they would agree beforehand on the issues each should press; Meletus dealt with religion, while Anytus and Lykon dealt with the political reasons for the attack. In the Platonic Apology, Socrates expresses himself strongly about Melitus's accusations, publicly questions him before the dichasts, and criticizes his responses: he makes little reference to Anytus, or to anything else beyond what is formally contained in the Accusation; and he treats the last charge, the charge of juvenile corruption, in connection with the first as if the alleged corruption consisted in irreligious teaching. But Xenophon points out that, in enforcing this allegation of pernicious doctrine, the prosecutors addressed other issues markedly different from Socrates' religious teachings, and denounced him for teaching them illegality and disrespect, both towards parents and country. We find in Xenophon accusatory motives similar to those of the "Clouds"; similar also to those which modern authors commonly bring forward against the Sophists.
Socrates, Anytus and the other accusers said, taught the youth to disregard the existing political constitution, pointing out that the Athenian practice of appointing archons by lot was absurd, and that no sane man would ever appoint a pilot or select a carpenter in this way. . though the evil of low grades was less in these cases than among the Archons. Such teaching, it was insisted, destroyed in the minds of hearers respect for the law and the Constitution, making them violent and licentious. As examples of his functioning, his two disciples, Kritias and Alcibiades, both educated at his school; one, the most violent and predatory of the last 30 oligarchs; the other, a disgrace to democracy, for its scandalous insolence and licentiousness; both authors of ruinous calamities to the city.
In addition, the young man learned from him the presumption of his own superior wisdom and the habit of insulting his parents, as well as despising his other relatives. Socrates told them that it was urged that even their parents could be imprisoned by law in cases of insanity; and that when a man needed a service, those whom he should trust were not his kinsmen as such, but the persons best suited to perform it; so when he was sick he had to consult a surgeon; if you are involved in litigation, those most familiar with such a situation. Even among friends, the mere feeling of well-being and affection did little good; what was important was that they acquire the capacity to serve one another. No one was worthy of respect except the man who knew what was right and could explain it to others: which meant, the accuser insisted, that Socrates was not only the wisest man, but the only one capable of doing so. make students wise; other advisors are worthless compared to him.
It was also said that he was in the habit of quoting the worst passages of excellent poets and corrupting them with the malicious purpose of corrupting the tendencies of youth, instilling in them criminal and despotic tendencies. Then he quoted a phrase from Hesiod: “No work is shameful; but laziness is shameful”, which means that an unscrupulous man could do any kind of work, whatever it may be, for profit. Next, Socrates was particularly fond of quoting those lines of Homer in the second book of the Iliad, which describes Odysseus bringing back the Greeks, who had just dispersed from the public agora in accordance with Agamemnon's warning, and hurried to their ships. Odysseus caresses and flatters the chiefs while scolding and even beating the common men; though they both did the same thing, and were guilty of the same fault; whether it was a mistake to follow what the Commander-in-Chief himself had just suggested. Socrates interpreted this passage, the accuser asserted, as if Homer were praising the flogging of the poor and common people.
Nothing could be easier for a prosecutor than to find material to indict Socrates through partial quotations from his constant speeches, given without the context or accompanying explanations; for a daring invention where even this partial foundation was lacking; sometimes detecting real errors, as no man who talks constantly, especially improvising, can always speak correctly. Few professors would escape being convicted against him based on evidence like this. Xenophon takes note of the accusations, comments on them all, denies some and explains others. As for the passages from Hesiod and Homer, he claims that Socrates drew conclusions quite contrary to those asserted; the latter seem, in fact, quite irrational, invented to evoke the deep-rooted democratic sentiment of the Athenians after the prosecutor made a point of associating Socrates with Critias and Alcibiades. That Socrates wrongly neglected filial duties or domestic affections is equally highly improbable. We may much more reasonably believe Xenophon's assertion that he warned the hearer to become as wise and useful as possible; so that when he wanted to gain the approval of his father, brother, or friend, he could not stand by and rely on the mere fact of the relationship, but could gain my feeling by doing them a positive good. Telling a young person that simply feeling good would be utterly insufficient unless he was willing and competent to put it into practice is a lesson few parents would want to discourage. Not even a generous parent would consider it a crime against the teachings of Socrates to make his son outsmart him, which he probably would. Restricting a young person's field of study because it might make him think he's smarter than his father is just one of a thousand ways the ignorance versus knowledge claim was made then and sometimes still is.
However, it cannot be denied that these attacks by Anytus touch on the vulnerable side of the Socratic theory of general ethics, which held that virtue depended on knowledge. I have already indicated that this is true, but not the whole truth; a certain state of inclinations and inclinations is no less indispensable as a condition of virtue than a certain state of intelligence. Thus an enemy pretended to make it appear that Socrates, in establishing part of the truth as a whole, was denying or belittling all that remained. But while this would not be a wholly unfounded criticism of his general theory, it would not apply against his practical precepts or teachings, as we find in Xenophon; for these, as I have remarked, go far beyond his general theory, and make the cultivation of habits and inclinations no less arduous than the acquisition of knowledge.
Xenophon does not contest the accusations allegedly voiced by Socrates against the choice of archons by lot in Athens. The accuser urged that by such censures Socrates was inciting the youth to flout the existing constitution and to become illegal and violent in their conduct. This is exactly the same pretext, which tends to bring the government to hatred and contempt, under which charges of public defamation were presented against writers in previous days in England, and under which they are still abundantly accused in France under the first President. . There can hardly be a more serious political maneuver than mistaking the disapproving critic for a cabal and imposing silence on dissenting minorities. There was never a case where such an assumption was more colorless than in Socrates, who always appealed to men's reason and very little to their feelings; so little, in fact, that modern authors make a point of coldness against it; who never failed to instill strict observance of the law, and set himself an example of such observance. Whatever his attitude toward democracy, he always obeyed the democratic government, with no pretext to accuse him of participating in oligarchic schemes. It was the Thirty who, for the first time in his long life, completely banned his teaching and almost took his life; while his close friend Chaerephon was in fact in exile with the Democrats.
Xenophon places great emphasis on two points when he defends Socrates against his accusers. First, that his own conduct was virtuous, self-denying, and strict in obedience to the law. He then accustomed his listeners to hearing nothing more than appeals to their reason, asking obedience only to their rational beliefs. That such a man, with such arrogance to his credit, should be tried and found guilty of seducing young women - the vaguest of imaginable charges - is a serious and sad fact in the history of mankind. But when we see with what easy evidence modern authors are ready to concede the same charge against the Sophists, we have no right to be surprised that the Athenians, in addressing them, do not do so for the calm reason to which Socrates appealed, but for all his antipathies - religious, political, public and private - they resented treating him as a type and forerunner of Critias and Alcibiades.
After all, the despair and resulting guilty verdict was not the fault of the dikast alone, nor was it caused solely by his accusers and his many private enemies. Such a judgment would not have taken place except for what we must call Socrates' own assent and assent. This is one of the most important facts of the case, both in regard to himself and the Athenians.
We learn from his own testimony in the Platonic Defense that the guilty verdict was passed by a majority of five or six, in the midst of a body as numerous as an Athenian dicastery; probably five hundred and fifty-seven in all, if a confused statement by Diogenes Laertius can be trusted. Now, whoever reads this defense and considers it in the context of the circumstances of the case and the sentiments of the Dicasteries, will see that its tenor is such that it must have gathered a number of votes much greater than six against it. And we are informed by Xenophon's unequivocal testimony that Socrates approached his trial with the feelings of one who hardly wants to be acquitted. He didn't think to prepare his defense; and when his friend Hermogenes upbraided him with the grave consequences of such an omission, he replied, first, that the just and innocent life which had ended was the best of all defensive preparations; after it started once; to consider what would be appropriate for him to say, the divine sigh intervened to stop him from continuing. He went on to say that it was no wonder the gods thought it was better to die now than to live any longer. Until then he had lived in complete contentment, with a sense of progressive moral improvement, and with the marked and uninterrupted esteem of his friends. If his life were prolonged, old age would soon overtake him, he would lose part of his sight, hearing, or intelligence; and a life of so diminished efficiency and dignity would be intolerable to him. Whereas, if he were now convicted, he would be unjustly condemned, which would be a great disgrace to his judges, but none to him; nay, it would bring him still more sympathy and admiration, and a quicker recognition of all that he had been a just man and an excellent teacher.
These words, pronounced before his trial, convey a state of faith that explains the content of the defense and constituted an essential condition for the final result. They show that Socrates not only cared little about being acquitted, but even thought that the coming trial had been ordained by the gods as the end of his life, and that there were good reasons why he considered that end the best for him. . Nor is it surprising that he should have this opinion, when we remember the utter superiority in him of a strong inner conscience and intelligent reflection, built on an originally fearless temper and silencing what Plato had "the child" in us that trembles in death. . ; his great love of colloquial influence and his inability to live without it; his advanced age, now seventy, which makes it impossible for this influence to last much longer, and the opportunity for him, now rising above common men in similar circumstances, to read and transcend an impressive lesson, a reputation even greater than that one. he had acquired until then. In this frame of mind, Socrates went to his trial and undertook his reckless defense, the gist of which we now read in Plato's Apology. His equally lofty and well-balanced calculations were fully realized. If he had been acquitted after such a defence, it would not only have been a victory over his personal enemies, but a sanction of the people and the People's Department for his doctrine, which had actually been enforced by Anytus, in his accusatory. argument about acquittal in general, even before hearing the defence: while his condemnation, and the feelings with which he met it, cast double and triple luster over his whole life and character.
Preceded by this exposition of Socrates' feelings, the Platonic defense becomes not only sublime and impressive, but also the manifestation of a rational and consistent intention. It actually contains a defense of himself against two of the three charges in the indictment; against the charge of not believing in the recognized gods of Athens and of corrupting the youth; he says little or nothing of the second of the three, in which he is accused of religious innovations. But it doesn't sound like someone's speech at the trial, the written indictment ending with "penalty, death" hanging before him in open court. Rather, it is a powerful lesson for the listener, embodied in the open outpouring of fearless, confident awareness. It is carried out from the beginning because the law requires it; with a faint desire, and not even an unreserved desire, but without any hope of success. Socrates responds first to the existing antipathies against him from without, arising from the number of enemies his interrogation of Elenchus had aroused against him, and from those false reports which the Aristophanic "clouds" did so much to spread. In explaining the rise of these antipathies, he inculcates in the dicates the divine mission under which he acted, not without considerable doubt whether they will believe that he meant this; and he gives this interesting account of his intellectual campaign against "the vanity of knowledge without reality" of which I have already spoken. He then turns to the prosecution, questions Melitus in open court and dissects his responses. Having rejected the charge of irreligion, he returns once more to the imperative mandate of the gods, under which he acts "to devote his life to the pursuit of wisdom, and to prove himself and others"; an order that, if he disobeyed, he would rightfully face the charge of irreligion; and he plainly tells the Dichasts that, even if they acquit him now, he cannot and will not slacken the course he has taken. He believes that the mission entrusted to him is one of the greatest blessings the gods bestowed on Athena. He disapproves of those murmurs of surprise or anger which his speech has apparently evoked on more than one occasion, if not from him and the dictates who will benefit from hearing him and who will do themselves and their city much more harm than he will. . , if they should pronounce sentence now. He would not resist for his own sake, but for the sake of the Athenians, that they might not sin against God's merciful blessing in condemning him; they wouldn't easily find another one if they had to kill him. Although his mission had spurred him to tireless activity in individual conversations, the divine sign always forbade him to take an active part in public events; on the two extraordinary occasions on which he appeared publicly - once under democracy, once under oligarchy - he showed the same determination as now; let no terror prevent him from that path which he believed to be just. The youths were delighted and relieved to hear his interrogation; no evidence was adduced to prove to the prosecution that he had corrupted them; nor of those who, having been young enjoying their entertainment, were now old; another of your relatives; at the same time he could bear ample testimony to the improving effect of his society on the kindred of those who benefited from it. “No man (says he) knows what death is; but people fear it as if they knew perfectly well that it is the greatest of all evils, that it is nothing but the worst case of all ignorance, the illusion of knowing what one really does not know. For my part, that is exactly what makes me different from most other men, if there is one thing in which I am smarter than them; Knowing nothing of Hades, I do not claim to know anything; but I know this disobedience to a person better than I do, whether God or man; it is an evil and a shame; nor will I ever embrace evil to escape evil which, for all I know, could be good. Perhaps you are indignant at the firm tone of my defense; You might expect me to behave like most others in trials less dangerous than mine; that I must cry and beg and plead for my life and make my children and family do the same. I have relatives like other men and three children; but none of them will appear before you for that purpose. Not from insolent inclinations on my part, or any desire to discredit him, but because I think such conduct belittles the reputation I enjoy; because I have a reputation of superiority among you, deserved or undeserved, as it may be. It is a pity for Athena that her esteemed men, as they are wont to do, stoop to such vile and cowardly appeals; and you dikasts, instead of being forced to forgive them, should condemn them for dishonoring the city. My reputation aside, I too would be a guilty man if I tried to impress him with appeals. My duty is to instruct and persuade you if I can; but you have sworn to follow your convictions by judging the laws and not to bend the laws to your partisanship; and it is your duty to do so. Far be it from me to accustom him to perjury; Far be it from you to develop such a habit. Therefore, do not ask me for any dishonorable procedure against me, nor any criminal and impious action against you, especially at the moment when I myself am refuting a charge of impiety brought by Melitus. I leave it up to you and God to decide what's best for me and you.
No one reading Socrates' Platonic Apology will wish he had defended himself otherwise. But it is the speech of someone who consciously renounces the immediate objective of a defense, the persuasion of his judges; who speaks to posterity without regard to his own life: "sola, cum posteritatis, et abruptis vitae blandimentis". The effect on the dicasteries was exactly what Socrates previously expected and later heard in the guilty verdict without surprise or confusion. His only surprise was the extreme smallness of the majority that gave this verdict. And that's the real reason to be surprised. Never before had the Athenian dicasteries heard such a speech addressed to them. Although Socrates was undoubtedly known to all as a highly capable and highly eccentric man, they differed in his intentions and character; some looked at him with outright hostility, others with respectful admiration, and an even greater number with simple admiration for his abilities, without a crucial feeling of revulsion or appreciation.
But out of all three of these categories, scarcely spared even by its admirers, the speech would ring like a thorn, never losing its way to the angry feelings in the judge's chest, whether the judges in session were one, few, or many. . an insulting thorn to the court. Athenian dicasteries used to be treated with deference, often with servility: now one heard sermons from a philosopher who presented himself as a fearless and invulnerable superior, above his power but awaiting his judgment; one who claimed a divine mission, which many of them probably considered a sham, and who proclaimed himself the inspired uprooter of pride with no reality of knowledge, whose purpose many would not understand and some would not like. His behavior seems to many to betray an insolence, not without analogy with Alcibiades or Critias, with whom his accuser had compared him. I have already remarked in connection with his trial that, given the number of personal enemies he made, it is not surprising that he was tried, but rather that it was so late in his life. Now I comment in relation to the verdict that, given his speech before the Dicastery, we cannot be surprised that he was found guilty, only that such a verdict was passed by a small majority of five or six.
That Socrates' condemnation was clearly provoked by the tone and tenor of his defense is Xenophon's explicit testimony. “Other defendants (he said) defended themselves by conciliating or flattering the favor of the dictates, or by alleging contrary to the law, and thus obtained acquittal. But Socrates would not use any of this customary practice of the dicastery against the law. Though he could easily have been dismissed by the dictates, he would rather obey the law and die than save his life by harming them if he had done such a thing even mildly. Now, probably no one in Athens but Socrates would have interpreted the laws as requiring the tone of speech he adopted; He himself would not have so interpreted them if he had been twenty years younger, viewing himself with less acquired dignity and more years of possible usefulness. Without humbling himself with flatteries or unseemly entreaties, he would have avoided lecturing them as master and superior, or ostensibly asserting, for purposes they could scarcely understand, a divine mission or independence of judgment which they might take as a challenge. The rhetorician Lysias is said to have sent him a composed speech in his defense, which he would not use because he did not consider it suitable to his dignity. But a man like Lysias would hardly compose, which would lessen the dignity of even the most exalted patron, though he too was concerned about the result; There is also no doubt that if Socrates had delivered it - or even a much less skilful speech if it had been harmless - he would have been acquitted. Indeed, Quintilian expresses his satisfaction that Socrates preserved that supreme dignity that revealed the rarest and most sublime of his qualities, while at the same time renouncing any possibility of absolution. Few people will disagree with this criticism: but if we look at the verdict, as we should from the point of view of the dichasts, justice will oblige us to admit that Socrates brought it upon himself on purpose.
If the guilty verdict was thus passed on Socrates by his own consent and cooperation, much more the same remark may be made in regard to the sentence of death which followed. At the Athens trial, the sentence imposed was determined by a separate di-caste vote following the guilty verdict. After the prosecutor had passed the sentence he thought fit, the defendant, in his turn, assigned a lighter sentence for himself; and between these two the di-castes were invited to make their choice, without a third suggestion being allowed. The prudence of a defendant has always led him to propose, even against himself, a measure of punishment which the dicastery could accept in lieu of the severer punishment demanded by his opponent.
Now, in his indictment and speech against Socrates, Melitus called for the sentence of death to be imposed. It fell to Socrates to make his own counter-proposal, and the tiny majority with which the verdict was delivered provided sufficient proof of this: the Dicasteries were by no means inclined to sanction extreme punishment against him. They no doubt expected, in accordance with the uniform practice in the Athenian courts, that he would propose a lesser sentence; Fine, imprisonment, banishment, deprivation of rights, etc. And if he had simply done that, the proposal probably would have been accepted. But Socrates' language was even more strained after the trial than before; and his determination to defend his own point of view, disdaining the slightest clemency or concession, only the most emphatic ones. “What counteroffer shall I make you (said he) in lieu of Melitus's punishment? Shall I tell you the treatment I think I deserve at your hands? In that case, my suggestion would be that I be rewarded with a life at public expense in the Prytaneus; because that's what I really deserve as a public benefactor; One who neglected all thoughts of his own affairs and embraced voluntary poverty to look out for his best interests and bring them closer individually to the dire need of spiritual and moral improvement. I certainly cannot admit that I deserve all the harm from you; Nor would it be prudent on my part to propose, instead of death, which perhaps is not an evil, but a good, exile or imprisonment, which I know to be certain and considerable evils. In fact, it might suggest a cash payment penalty; for payment would not be bad. But I am poor, and have no money: all I could raise is a mina: and therefore I propose to you a fine of a mina, as a punishment for me. Plato and my other intimate friends demand that I increase this sum to thirty minas; and they agree to pay for me. Fine of thirty minas; hence the punishment I submit to your verdict.
Staying in the Prytaneus at public expense was one of the highest honors bestowed by the citizens of Athens; a clear sign of public appreciation. Let Socrates, then, declare himself worthy of such an honor, and speak of accepting it instead of punishment, before the dicates who have just condemned him guilty were received by them as nothing less than a deliberate insult; a disrespect to the judicial authority which they had to prove to a rebellious and haughty citizen, who could not commit with impunity. The people who most needed to hear his language were undoubtedly Plato, Krito and the other friends who surrounded him; who, though they fully sympathized with him, knew full well that he had ensured the success of Melitus' proposal, and would regret that he wasted his life in what they considered undesirable and unnecessary self-exaltation. If he, with little or no preamble, had proposed the alternative penalty of thirty minas with which he concluded this part of his speech, everything leads to believe that the majority of the dicasteries would have voted in favour.
The death penalty was imposed on him, why most of us don't know. But Socrates did not change his tune or repent of the language with which he had supported the intention of his accusers. On the contrary, he told Dikasten in a short speech before leaving for prison that he was satisfied with his own behavior and the result. The divine sign, he said, which he used to restrain him in deed and word, often on very small occasions, had not been shown him once during the day, nor at his first coming, nor at any time in his whole life. speech. The tacit assent of that infallible monitor convinced him not only that he had spoken correctly, but that the verdict rendered was not really bad for him; that dying again was the best thing that could have happened to him. Either death was like a deep, eternal, dreamless sleep, which he thought was not a loss but a gain in the present life; or, if the popular myths were true, death would lead him to a second life in Hades, where he would meet all the heroes of the Trojan War, and of the past generally, to join them in mutual bargaining. -examination and debate about ethical progress and perfection.
There is no doubt that Socrates' phrase did appear about this and also to his friends after the fact, but certainly not at the moment when they wanted to lose it. He took up his line of defense judiciously and with full knowledge of the outcome. It offered him the most suitable opportunity to impressively manifest both his personal superiority over human fears and weaknesses and the dignity of what he believed to be his divine mission. He took it in all its majesty and splendor, like a tropical sunset, at a time when senile decay may seem imminent. He considered his defense and conduct at trial the most powerful lesson he could read to the youth of Athens; probably more emphatic than the sum total of those lessons that the rest of your life would be enough to teach if you framed your defenses differently. This anticipation of the effect of the final scene of his life, which seals all his earlier lines, is manifested in excerpts from his last words to the Dichasts, in which he tells them that they will not get rid of him by killing him. . of the intrusiveness of the interrogation of elenchus; that many young people, more restless and interfering than he, already had within them that impulse which they would now use; her superiority had held her back until now. Socrates was convinced, then, that his resignation would be the signal for numerous apostles to continue with increasing energy that process of questioning and encouragement to which he had devoted his life and which, no doubt, was dearer and more sacred to him than his own life. . Nothing could be more effective than your haughty behavior in your judgment, to kindle the enthusiasm of young people so predisposed; and the loss of life was made up for by the missionary successors he hoped to leave behind.
Under normal circumstances, Socrates would have drunk the cup of hemlock the day after his prison trial. But it so happened that the day of his condemnation was immediately after the day on which the sacred vessel sailed on its annual ceremonial pilgrimage from Athens to Delos for the feast of Apollo. Until that ship returned to Athens, it was considered profane to kill someone with public violence. Consequently, Socrates remained in prison - and it pains us to read, with leg chains - for a total of thirty days during the period this ship was absent. His friends and colleagues had free access to him and spent most of their time with him in prison; and Krito even cooked up a plan to allow him to escape by bribing the jailer. This plan was prevented from taking effect only by Socrates' firm refusal to engage in any activity that infringed on rights; a resolution which, given the line he had taken in his defence, we should naturally expect. He spent his days in prison in conversations on ethical and human topics which had been the delight and preoccupation of his former life: until the last of these days he continued his conversation with Simmias, Cebes and Phaedo on the immortality of the soul, in the Platonic Dialogue called " Phaedon". The main themes and lessons of this conversation are more Platonic than Socratic. But the picture the dialogue paints of Socrates' mood and mood in the last hours of his life is one of undying beauty and interest, displaying his serene, even playful composure amidst the uncontrollable emotions of the friends around him. . —the genuine and unforced conviction, which governs both his words and his deeds, of what he had proclaimed before the dichasts, that the sentence of death was no disgrace to him—and the unswerving maintenance of this earnest interest in the betterment of man and the Society, which had been his main motive and active concern for so many years. Final scene details are rendered with meticulous precision, right down to the point of resolution; and it is comforting to note that the cup of hemlock, the drug used in public order executions in Athens, took effect by steps far more painless than any natural death that could befall him. Those who have read the above noted about Socrates' strong religious beliefs will not be surprised to hear that his last words, addressed to Krito just before he passed into an unconscious state, were: "Krito, we owe you a rooster for Aesculapius .: pay the debt and never abstain".
Thus died the "parens philosophiae", the first ethical philosophers; a man who opened up new subjects for science, equally plentiful and valuable; and a memorable new method not less for its originality and effectiveness than for the deep philosophical foundation on which it rests. Although Greece has produced great poets, orators, speculative philosophers, historians, etc., other countries that benefited from Greek literature from the beginning almost equaled it in all these lines and surpassed it in some. But where should we look for a parallel with Socrates, inside or outside the Greek world? The interrogation of Elenchus, which he not only first blotted out, but handled with such incomparable effect, and for such noble purposes, has remained mute since their last conversation in prison; for his great successor, Plato, was also a writer and lecturer, not a colloquial dialectician. No man was ever found strong enough to draw his bow; much less safe enough to use like you did. His life remains the only but very satisfying evidence of how much can be achieved through this kind of intelligent questioning; how strong an interest can be aroused; how energetic is the stimulus which can be used to awaken slumbering reason and generate new spiritual power.
Socrates was often portrayed as a preacher of morality, a position in which he probably won the general reverence that accompanies his name. This is certainly a true quality, but not the distinguishing or notable quality, nor the one by which he made a lasting impression on mankind. On the other hand, Arkesilaus and the New Academy thought, a century and later, that they were following the example of Socrates - and Cicero seems to have thought the same - in arguing against everything; and when they established such a system that against any affirmative position an equal force of negative arguments could be balanced. Now, in my opinion, this view of Socrates is not only partial, but also wrong. He did not distrust the powers of the mind so systematically as to be certain. He drew a clear, though imperfect, line of distinction between the knowable and the unknowable. When it came to physics, he was more than a skeptic; he thought man could know nothing; the gods did not intend for man to receive such information, so they treated things as beyond his perception for all but the simplest phenomena of everyday use; moreover, man not only could not obtain such information, but he should not seek it out. But regarding the problems that affect man and society, Socrates' views are completely inverted. This was the territory expressly designated by the gods not only for human practice, but also for human study and acquisition of knowledge; a field in which, with this view, they treated phenomena according to principles of a constant and observable sequence, so that any man who made the necessary effort could discern them. No, Socrates went a step further; and this step forward is the basic belief upon which all his missionary efforts rest. He thought that every human being not only could know these things, but ought to know them; that he couldn't act well unless he knew her; and that it was his imperative duty to learn them as he would learn a trade; otherwise he was no better than a slave who could not be trusted as a free and responsible being. Socrates was convinced that no one could behave as a just, moderate, courageous, pious and patriotic agent, unless he had learned to know correctly what justice, temperance, courage, piety, patriotism, etc., really are. . He was obsessed with the truly Baconian idea that the power of consistent moral action depended on and was limited by a rational understanding of moral means and ends. But as he surveyed the spirits around him, he noticed that few, if any, had such an understanding, or had ever studied to acquire it; but, at the same time, all felt confidently in possession of it, and acted confidently in that belief. It was here, then, that Socrates discovered that the first legwork he had to overcome was that universal "realityless knowledge formation" against which he so decisively declared war; and that too, though with another choice of words and in relation to other themes, on which Bacon no less emphatically declares war two thousand years later: "Opinio copias inter causa inopiae est." Socrates discovered that those ideas about human and social affairs on which every human being relied and acted were nothing more than the spontaneous products of the "intellectus sibi permitus", the intellect left to its own devices, without guidance or only blind guidance. Sympathies, antipathies, authority or silent assimilation. They were products assembled, to use Bacon's language, out of a great deal of faith and chance, and the primitive stimuli of childhood, not only without care or study, but also without any awareness of the process and without further revision. On this basis the Sophists, or professed teachers, sought to erect a superstructure of virtue and skill for the active life; but to Socrates such an attempt seemed hopeless and contradictory, no less impractical as Bacon explained in his time, to bring the tree of knowledge to majesty and fruition without first eliminating the fundamental vices which remained undisturbed and undisturbed. Poisonous influence on your tree. source. Socrates began to work in the Baconian style; He reduced his interrogation process to those gross, self-generated, incoherent generalizations which people's minds considered competent and guiding knowledge as the first condition for any further improvement. But he, no less than Bacon, makes this analysis not with a view to a negative end, but as a first step to gain later; as a preliminary cleaning, essential for future positive results. In the physical sciences to which Bacon's attention was chiefly directed, such a result could not be reached without improved experimental investigation, bringing to light new and hitherto unknown facts; but in the questions discussed by Socrates, the elementary data of inquiry were all within the hearer's experience, and needed only to attract his attention, both affirmatively and negatively, together with the appropriate ethical and political ending; so as to stimulate in him the necessary rational effort to recombine them according to consistent principles.
Thus, when the New Academy philosophers saw Socrates as a skeptic or advocate of systematic denial, they misinterpreted his character and confused the first step of his process - what Plato, Bacon and Herschel call the purification of the intellect - with the aim of ending The Elenchos, as used by Socrates, was animated by the truest spirit of positive science and constituted an indispensable precursor to its realization.
There are two points, and two points only, in matters affecting man and society about which Socrates is skeptical; or rather, what he denies; and upon the denial of which the whole method and purpose of it depends. First, it denies that people can know what they have not invested in conscious effort, deliberate pain, or systematic study in learning. So he denies that people can practice what they don't know; that they can be just or moderate or generally virtuous without knowing what justice or temperance or virtue is. Indeed, instilling in his listeners his own negative beliefs about these two points is his first aim and the main aim of his many dialectical maneuvers. But though Socrates is negative in his means, he is strictly positive in his ends; his attack is carried out only with a view to a positive result; to shame them of the illusion of knowledge, and to encourage and equip them for the acquisition of real, safe, complete and self-explanatory knowledge as a condition and guarantee of virtuous practice. In fact, Socrates was the opposite of a skeptic; no man ever looked at life with a more positive and practical eye; no man ever pursued his goal with a clearer sense of the path he trod; No man has similarly combined the captivating enthusiasm of a missionary with the wit, originality, inventive wit and comprehensive understanding of a philosopher.
His method still survives, as far as such a method can survive, in some of Plato's dialogues. It is a process of eternal value and universal application. That purification of the intellect which Bacon described as essential to rational or scientific progress, the Socratic Elenchus offers the only known means of achieving it, at least in part. As little used as this instrument has been since the death of its inventor, its necessity and usefulness have not and never will. There are few men whose minds are not more or less in the state of pseudo-knowledge against which Socrates was at war: there is no man whose ideas have not previously been put together by spontaneous, unexamined, unconscious, and unconfirmed associations, based on forgotten details. . mixes up inequalities or inconsistencies, and leaves in his mind old and familiar phrases and oracular propositions of which he was never aware: there is no man who, if destined for energetic and profitable scientific endeavors, has not found in him a necessary branch of self-education to break down, unravel , analyze and reconstruct these old mental connections; and that he was not driven to it by his own weak and lonely efforts, as the colloquial giant Elenchus is no longer on the market to help and encourage him.
Hearing that any man, especially one so famous, should have been condemned to death on charges of heresy and supposed youthful depravity fills me today with a sense of outraged condemnation whose intensity I cannot bear to shake off. The fact will be registered forever as one among the thousand crimes of religious and political intolerance. But as each item in this catalog has its own particular character, tomb or light, we must consider where on the scale Socrates' condemnation falls and what conclusions it warrants as to the character of the Athenians. If we now examine the circumstances of the case, we find them all extenuating; and in fact so powerful as to reduce such conclusions to the minimum compatible with the general class to which the incident belongs.
First, the prevailing sentiment now is based on the belief that such things as heresy and the heretical teachings of youth are not suitable for judicial notice. Such a belief is also new in the modern world; and in the 5th century BC. it was unknown. Socrates himself would not have agreed; and all Greek governments, both oligarchic and democratic, have recognized the contrary. Plato's testimony is crucial at this point. If we examine the two positive communities he builds in De Republica and De Legibus, we will see that nothing is more important to him than establishing an irresistible orthodoxy of doctrine, opinion, and education. A tortuous and frank teacher, as Socrates was in Athens, should not have followed his vocation for a week in the Platonic Republic. Plato would not sentence him to death; but he would silence him and, if necessary, dismiss him. Indeed, this is the logical conclusion if the state is to determine what Orthodoxy and orthodox teaching is and suppress what contradicts its own views. Now all the Greek states, including Athens, upheld this principle of interference against the dissenting master. But in Athens, once it was recognized in principle, its application was thwarted by reluctant forces, which in other places are not thwarted by the democratic constitution with its freedom of expression and its desire to speak, by the most active source of the individual intellect and by the tolerance. , which exists greater than anywhere else, the peculiarities of every human being of all kinds. In any other government in Greece, as well as in the Platonic Republic, Socrates would have been arrested quickly in his career, even if he had not been severely punished; in Athens he was allowed to speak and teach publicly for twenty-five or thirty years, and then he was condemned as an old man. Of these two applications of the same malicious principle, surely the latter is the more moderate and less harmful.
Second, this last consideration, as a mitigating circumstance against the Athenians, becomes much stronger when we consider the number of individual enemies Socrates made in conducting his interrogation process. Here was a multitude of individuals, including personally the best and most effective men in the city, who were moved by private dislikes beyond common belief to put into practice the principle of latent bigotry of a hateful master. If, under such provocation, he was allowed to live to be seventy years old and speak in public for so many years before a true melitus appeared, this clearly attests to the effectiveness of the provisions contained among the men, who made his practice. more liberal habits than their declared principles.
Third, anyone who has read Socrates' account of the trial and defense will see that he himself contributed as much to the outcome as the three accusers put together. Not only did he refrain from doing anything that could have been shamelessly done to gain an acquittal, but he uttered positive language that was almost as Melitus himself would have tried to use. He did this intentionally, as he thought highly of himself and his own mission, and did not consider the cup of hemlock to be bad luck in his old age. It was only by such flagrant and offensive self-exaltation that he managed to pass the Dicastery's first vote, still the slim majority, for which he was found guilty; it was only by a more aggravated statement of the same kind, to the point of something approaching an insult, that prompted the second vote which pronounced the sentence of death. Now, it would be false not to consider the impact of such a movement on the heads of the dicastery. They were by no means prepared to impose the recognized principle of bigotry against him on their own initiative. But when they found that the man who had accused them of this crime was speaking to them in a tone which the dictators had never heard before, and could scarcely hear in silence, they must have been inclined to believe that all the worst conclusions of their accusers were wrong. . and they regard Socrates as a dangerous man both religiously and politically, against whom it was necessary to defend the majesty of the court and the constitution.
Enjoying this memorable incident, therefore, all the circumstances show that this principle was neither irritable nor domineering in the hearts of the Athenians, though the spiteful principle of intolerance cannot be denied; that even a large group of collateral antipathies did not easily arouse him against anyone; that the most liberal and generous dispositions which blunted their wickedness were constantly efficacious, and not easily overcome; and that the phrase should count as one of the less somber elements in an essentially somber catalogue.
Let us add that Socrates himself did not regard his own condemnation and death in old age as a disgrace, but as a propitious dispensation from the gods, who separated him just in time to escape that painful consciousness of spiritual decay which prompted Democritus to inject the poison to prepare, his friend Xenophon goes a step further, and, while protesting the verdict, extols the form of death as a theme of triumph; as the happiest, most honorable, and most merciful way in which the gods could seal a useful and exalted life.
It is stated by Diodorus, and exaggeratedly repeated by later writers, that after Socrates' death, the Athenians bitterly regretted their treatment of him, going so far as to kill his accusers without trying. I don't know on what authority that statement was made, and I don't believe anything. From the tone of Xenophon's recollections, there is every reason to believe that Socrates' recollection was still unpopular in Athens when this collection was assembled. Plato also left Athens immediately after his teacher's death, and was absent for a long series of years: indirectly, I think, it is supposed that there was no such reaction in Athenian feeling as Diodorus asserts; and the same conjecture is supported by the way in which the orator Aeschines speaks of damnation half a century later. I see no reason to suppose that the Athenian Dicastes, who doubtless felt entitled and more than entitled to condemn Socrates after his own speech, withdrew this opinion after his death.
But though the opinions which Plato puts into Socrates' mouth are subject to so much uncertainty, yet we find with great satisfaction that the pictures which Plato and Xenophon give of their common master agree in substance; they differ only in that they are by two authors radically different in spirit and character from the same original. Xenophon, the man of action, largely highlights Socrates' speeches that referred to practical behavior and aimed at correcting the vices or weaknesses of individuals; That was what served his purpose as an apologist and at the same time satisfied his intellectual tastes. But nevertheless, he indicates very clearly that Socrates' speech was often, indeed generally, of a more negative, analytic, and generalizing bent; It is not intended to censure any positive or particular defect, but to arouse the curious faculties and lead to a rational understanding of vice and virtue by relating them to certain general principles. Now, this last aspect of the Master's physiognomy, which Xenophon records clearly, though without emphasis or development, acquires an almost exclusive importance in the Platonic picture. Plato omits the practical and devotes himself to the theoretician, Socrates; from which he divests part of his identity to inscribe him as a main speaker in certain great theoretical visions of his authorship. The two images do not contradict each other, but complement each other with their shortcomings and can merge into a unified whole. And as to the method of Socrates, a point more characteristic than either his precepts or his theory, and as to the effect of that method on the minds of his hearers, both Xenophon and Plato are witnesses who essentially agree: though, here too, he appropriated the method , developed it to a scale of expansion and perfection and gave it a permanence that it could never have obtained from its original author, who only spoke and never wrote. It is fortunate that our two main witnesses about him, both speaking from personal knowledge, are so broadly in agreement.
Both describe their private life and habits in the same way; their poverty satisfied, justice, temperance in the fullest sense of the word, and independence of self-sufficient character. At most of these points, too, Aristophanes and the other comedians appear as corroborating witnesses, so far as their testimony is concerned; for they joke about Socrates' coarse cooking, his threadbare and scanty clothes, his bare feet, his pale face, his poor and joyless life. We know next to nothing about his life circumstances: he served as a hoplite at Potidaea, at Delium, and at Amphipolis; apparently with merit, although the exaggerated praise of his friends drew equally exaggerated skepticism from Athenaeus and others. He seems never to have held political office until the year (406 BC) of the Battle of Arginusae, in that year he was a member of the Senate of Five Hundred and one of the Prytanes on that memorable day when Callixenus' proposal against the six generals appeared before the public assembly ; his resolute refusal to put an unconstitutional question to a vote, despite all the personal risks, has already been reported. That he strictly obeyed the law throughout his long life is proved by the fact that none of his many enemies ever accused him in court; that he discharged all the duties of a just man and a courageous and pious citizen may be confidently said. Friends of his especially value his piety; that is, after the precise performance of all religious duties considered incumbent upon an Athenian.
While these points must be established if we are to correctly interpret the character of Socrates, he did not derive his prominent place in history from them. Three special traits characterize the man. 1. His long life was spent in contented poverty and in public and apostolic dialectic. 2. Your strong religious conviction or belief in acting under a mission and sign from the gods; especially your demon or genie; the special religious admonition which often struck him. 3. His great intellectual originality, both in subject and method, and his ability to stimulate and provoke questions and reflections in others. Although these three characteristics were so mixed up in Socrates that it is not easy to consider them separately; however, he differed in every way from any Greek philosopher before or after him.
We do not know when Socrates abandoned the profession of sculptor; but the truth is that at least the whole middle and later part of his life was devoted exclusively to the self-imposed task of teaching; to the exclusion of all other public or private businesses and to the neglect of all assets. We can hardly fail to speak of him as a teacher, although he himself rejected the label: his practice was to talk or talk, orjaw, when we translate the mocking word used by the enemies of philosophy to designate dialectical conversation. Early in the morning, he would go to the public sidewalks, the gyms for physical exercise and the schools where young people were educated; it could be seen in the market place when it was at its height, among the stalls and tables where wares for sale were displayed; He usually spent the whole day in this public way. He spoke to anyone, young or old, rich or poor, who sought to speak with him, and in the ears of all who chose to be near; not only did he never ask for or receive a reward, he made no distinction between people, held his conversation against no one, and spoke to everyone on the same general topics. He conversed with politicians, sophists, soldiers, craftsmen, ambitious youths or workers, etc. He visited any interested person in town, male or female; his friendship with Aspasia is well known, and one of the most interesting chapters in Xenophon's Memorabilia tells of his visit and dialogue with Theodote, a beautiful hetaera, or consort. Nothing could be more public, constant, and indiscriminate than their conversation. But as listening to him was captivating, curious and instructive, certain people got used to visiting him in public as companions and listeners. These men, a wavering body, were commonly known as his disciples or scholars; although neither he nor his personal friends ever used the terms teacher and student to describe their relationship. Many of them, attracted by his reputation, came from other Greek cities in the last years of his life: Megara, Thebes, Elis, Cyrene, etc.
Now, no other person in Athens, or in any other Greek city, seems to have come forward as a public speaker for the teachings so continuously and so indiscriminately. All the teachers received money for their tuition, or at least gave it, except the crowd in a private house or garden, for special pupils admission and rejection at will. The private way of life that Socrates followed not only brought his conversation to the attention of a much wider circle, but also made him better known as a person. While he gained some friends and admirers and sparked some intellectual interest in others, he also spawned a number of personal enemies. This is probably why he was singled out by Aristophanes and other comic writers for attack as the general defender of philosophical and rhetorical doctrine; all the more so as his marked and repulsive physiognomy was so well imitated in the mask worn by the actor. Theatergoers would have recognized the strange figure they were used to seeing daily in the market place sooner than if Prodicus or Protagoras, whom most of them did not know by sight, had taken the stage; it didn't much matter to them or to Aristophanes whether Socrates taught what he really taught or something else entirely.
This extreme publicity of life and conversation was one of the qualities of Socrates which distinguished him from any teacher before or after him. Then came his belief in a special religious mission, restrictions, impulses and communications sent to him by the gods. The belief in such supernatural interventions, in general, was by no means peculiar to Socrates: it was the common belief in the ancient world; while attempts to resolve phenomena into general laws were viewed with some disapproval as indirect suspension. And therefore Xenophon builds on this general fact, in replying to the charge of religious innovation of which his teacher was found guilty, to assert that he asserted nothing but what was contained in the belief of every pious man. But this is not an exact statement of the subject of the debate; for it at least slanders, if it does not deny, that peculiarity of the inspiration of the gods in which those who conversed with Socrates believed - as we know even from Xenophon - and in which Socrates himself also believed. His own account, as presented in the defense before the Dicastery, is quite different. Ever since he was a child he was used to constantly hearing a divine voice intervening sparingly, but never urging him on when he wanted to act. These forbidding warnings often came to him, not only on great occasions but also on small ones, and interrupted what he was about to do or say. However, later writers speak of Socrates himself as the devil or the genie, and do not personify them, treating them simply as "a divine sign, a prophetic or supernatural voice". He was accustomed not only to obey him without question, but also to talk about it openly and intimately with others, so that the fact would be well known to his friends and enemies alike. He was always forbidden to enter public life; forbade him, when the charge hung over him, to think of a prepared defence; and he marched so completely with the consciousness of that bridle in his mouth that, without resisting, he supposed that the branch he was about to take was the right one. Though his persuasion on the subject was undoubtedly sincere, and his obedience unswerving, he never stopped at its being something great or terrible or deserving of special reverence; but he often talked about it in his familiar game manner. To his friends at large this seems to have been one of his honorifics, though neither Plato nor Xenophon has any qualms about speaking of him in the jocular way they no doubt drew from him. But to his enemies and to the Athenian public it seemed a reprehensible heresy; an impious innovation of the orthodox faith and an abandonment of the recognized gods of Athens.
Such was the demon or genius of Socrates as he himself describes and understands it in the genuine Platonic dialogues; a voice ever forbidding, relating only to his own personal conduct. What Plutarch and other admirers of Socrates conceived as a demon or intermediary between gods and men, was considered as the devil by the fathers of the Christian Church; by Leclerc as one of the fallen angels; by some other modern commentators as mere ironic phraseology on Socrates' own part. A fact that has received little attention, but deserves special attention and has been explained by himself, is that the reticent voice began as a child and lasted until the end of his life: it became an established belief long before his philosophical habits. . started. But though this peculiar form of inspiration belonged exclusively to him, there were other ways in which he believed he had received special orders from the gods, which not only checked him when he was about to take a wrong turn, but spurred him on. . His guidance and imperative, a positive course of action. Such a special mission had been entrusted to him by dreams, by oracular insinuations, and by all other means by which the gods expressed their special will.
Of these oracle hints he specifies one in particular in answer to a question asked at Delphi by his close friend and ardent admirer Chaerephon. The question asked was whether another man was wiser than Socrates; to which the Pythian priestess replied that no other man was wiser. Socrates says that he was greatly puzzled to hear this explanation from so infallible an authority, aware that he had no wisdom in things great or small. Finally, after much thought and an agonizing mental struggle, she decided to test the infallible priestess's accuracy by comparing the wisdom of others with her own. He chose a leader considered wise by both himself and others, and continued to converse with him and ask probing questions; the answers that convinced him that this man's supposed wisdom was not really wisdom. Having made such a discovery, Socrates tried to show the politician himself how much he wanted to be wise; but that was impossible; he was still as thoroughly convinced of his own wisdom as he had been before. “The result I obtained (says Socrates) was, that I was a wiser man than he was, because neither he nor I knew anything of what was really good and honorable; but the difference between us was that he thought he knew, while I was fully aware of my own ignorance, so I was wiser than he, having been freed from this capital error. prove correct.
Socrates repeated the same experiment successively on a large number of different subjects, especially those who were known for their excellent skill; first on politicians and rhetoricians, then on poets of all kinds and on artists and craftsmen. The outcome of his trial was essentially the same in all cases. The poets did indeed compose splendid verse, but even when asked about the words, themes, and purpose of their own compositions, they could not give consistent or satisfactory explanations; so that it was evident that they spoke or wrote as prophets as unconscious subjects under the impulses of inspiration. Furthermore, her success as a poet filled her with great respect for her own wisdom in other respects as well. The same was true of artists and artisans; who, though well instructed and giving satisfactory answers, each on his own particular business, were the more convinced for that reason, that they were well acquainted with other great and noble subjects also. This common big mistake more than made up for their special abilities and made them generally less wise than Socrates.
"In this investigation and examination (Socrates said in his defense) I have been busy for a long time and I am still busy. I question all respected men; I am showing you a lack of wisdom, but I cannot prove it that you will accomplish the So, in the fulfilling the mission entrusted to me, I verified the truth of the God who wanted to affirm that human wisdom is of little scope or value, and that the one who, like Socrates, felt most convinced of his own uselessness in relation to wisdom, he was truly the wisest man. exposed while spectators recognized me as a sage. speaks. because they ascribe to me wisdom in everything related to my display". - "Whatever is the danger and calumny that can be suffered, it would be really monstrous if you had to take my place in the queues as a hoplite between your generals in Delio and Potidea, ¿It should now, for fear of death or any other thing , disobeying the oracle and abandoning the position that God has assigned to me, do I have to live for philosophy and ask cross-questions both to myself and to others? , I must say with all respect and affection that I will obey God more than you, and that I will stand firm until the day of my death. as your supervisor is a sign of the special favor of God to you; and if you judge me, you will be lost; because you will not find another like me. ? AND This is the most difficult of all questions that I can answer to your satisfaction. If I tell them that silence on my part would be disobedience to God, they will take me for a joke and not believe me. Less will you believe me when I tell you that the greatest blessing that can come to a human being is to have discussions every day about virtue and other things that you hear me discuss when I and others question me. ; and that life without such proof is no life at all. However, oddly enough for you, the fact is firm.
I have provided plentiful extracts from Plato's Apology, because no one can adequately understand Socrates' character without getting into the spirit of this impressive speech. We see in this clear evidence of the intense supernatural mission he believed he was fulfilling, which did not allow him to rest or otherwise occupy himself. The oracular answer that Chaerephon brought from Delphi was a far greater event in his history than his supposed demon, of whom much more has been said. This answer, together with the dreams and other divine commissions that went to the same end, found him in the middle of life, when the intellectual man was forming and had already gained fame as a wise man among those who knew him. It provided a stimulus that set in motion a pre-existing current of generalizing dialectics and Zenonian negation, an intellectual vein with which the religious impulse rarely converges. Without this subject, to which his mind was particularly sensitive, the conversation would probably have followed the same general course, but would doubtless have been confined within much narrower and more cautious limits. For nothing could be more unpopular and loathsome than the task he undertook to question and condemn for ignorance every respectable man he could find. In fact, the enmity he occasionally provoked was so intense that there were instances where he was beaten or mistreated, and was often ridiculed. Although he won much admiration from auditors, particularly junior auditors, and from some devoted followers, philosophical motive alone would not have been sufficient to induce him to this systematic and even intrusive interrogation of his life.
This, then, is the second peculiarity that characterizes Socrates, besides his extreme publicity of life and his indiscriminate entertainment. He was not simply a philosopher, but a religious missionary doing the work of philosophy; oneelenchisch, - or questioning God, - to use an expression that Plato puts in his mouth when respecting an Eleatic philosopher who is in the process of examining and condemning those weak in reason. None of this belonged to Parmenides and Anaxagoras before him, nor to Plato and Aristotle after him. Both Pythagoras and Empedocles claimed that supernatural communication was mixed up with their philosophical doctrine. But although there is so far a general analogy between them and Socrates, the modes of appearance were so completely different that a fair comparison cannot be made.
The third and most important quality of Socrates, through which the first and second became effective, was his intellectual peculiarity. His influence on the speculative spirit of his time was clear and important; in terms of theme, method and teaching.
He was the first to direct his thoughts and discussions clearly to the subject of ethics. With the philosophers who preceded him, the object of study had been nature or the cosmos as an indistinguishable whole in which cosmogony, astronomy, geometry, physics, metaphysics, etc. Both the Ionian and Eleatic philosophers, both Pythagoras and Empedocles, all grapple with this vast and undefined problem; each one creates a system that fits his own imagination; religious, poetic, scientific or skeptical. But after that honorable quest for greater knowledge that marked the century after 480 B.C. they became sciences so distant that they were taught separately to young people. This seems to have been the state of science when Socrates received his training. He received at least the usual level of general education; as a youth he devoted himself to the company and instruction of the natural philosopher Archelaus, a disciple of Anaxagoras, whom he accompanied from Athens to Samos; and there is even reason to believe that in the early years of his life much was devoted to what was then understood to be the general study of nature. A man of his earnest and active intellect probably first showed his curiosity as an apprentice: "running after the various speeches of others and following them like a laconic dog", if I may be allowed an expression which Plato applied to him earlier, and he removed all the news itself. And in Plato's dialogue called Parmenides, Socrates appears as a young man eager to discuss Parmenides' theory, admiring Parmenides and Zeno and taking instruction from them in the process of dialectical inquiry. I have already indicated in the previous chapter the content of this dialogue, which illustrates how Greek philosophy, even in the early days of dialectics, presents itself as negative and positive, recognizing both the first branch of the method and the last. for obtaining the truth. I take it as a reference to the primitive mind of Socrates, taking this belief from the ancient Parmenides and the mature and experienced Zeno, and laying upon himself, as a condition of assent to any hypothesis or doctrine, the obligation of scrupulously stating all that could be said against it no less than anything that could be said for it: however laborious that process may be, and however little appreciated by the masses. However little we know of the circumstances that shaped Socrates' remarkable mind, we can conclude from this dialogue that he owes his powerful negative streak of dialectics in part to "the omnipresent and two-tongued Zeno."
Indeed, to a demonstrative mind, the science practiced at the time probably seemed not only unsatisfactory but also hopeless; and Socrates gave it up entirely in the middle of his life. The contradictory hypotheses which he heard, and the impenetrable confusion which seized the subject, led him to believe that the gods intended that the machinery by which they produced astronomical and physical results should remain unknown, and that the wicked were also useless. penetrate. in its mysteries. His teacher Archelaus, though mainly concerned with physics, also speculated more or less on moral questions, on good and evil, laws, etc.; and he is said to have held to the principle that justice and injustice were determined by law or convention, not by nature. Perhaps it is through him that Socrates was partly induced to turn his thoughts in this direction. But for a man disenchanted with physics, and having in his bosom a strong dialectical impulse, unemployed and restless, the harsh realities of Athenian life, even without Archelaus, would suggest human relationships, duties, actions and suffering as the most interesting materials. think and speak. Socrates could not go to public meetings, the department, or even the theater, without hearing arguments about what was just or unjust, honorable or vile, convenient or harmful, etc. invoked with equal reverent confidence. Along with Socrates' dialectical and generalizing power, which linked him with minds like Plato, there was at the same time a living practicality, a large storehouse of positive Athenian experiences, with which Xenophon mainly sympathized and which he brought in his "Memorabilia". Socrates' character is formed by these two intellectual tendencies, combined with a strong religious feeling; and all were immediately pleased when he began to admonish questions about the rules and purposes of human life; least distract him, since he had neither talent nor taste for public speaking.
Socrates was the first to proclaim that "the true study of mankind is man": he recognized man's safety and happiness as the sole end of study, and as the limiting principle by which it should be limited. At the current stage in which science finds itself, nothing is more strange than looking at the rules established by this great man. Astronomy, now at the height of perfection, with the greatest and most accurate ability to predict future phenomena that human science has ever achieved, was considered by him one of the divine mysteries impossible to understand and the madness of Anaxagoras to explore it I had done . stupidly. . Though he conceded that it was an advantage to know enough of the motions of the heavenly bodies to serve as an index of the change of seasons, and as a guide to voyages, earth journeys, or vigils: but so much, he said, could easily be of pilots and guards, while anything beyond that was but a waste of precious time, draining that mental effort which should be spent on profitable acquisitions. He reduced geometry to its literal meaning of surveying, necessary for any person to proceed rightly in buying, selling, or dividing land, which any ordinary alert man could do almost without a teacher; but silly and useless when applied to the study of complicated diagrams. As for arithmetic, he granted the same qualified study permit; but as to general physics, or the study of nature, he completely rejected them: 'Do these researchers think (he asked) that they already know human affairs well enough to begin meddling with the divine? Do they think they can excite or calm the winds and rains at will, or do they have no choice but to satisfy an idle curiosity? Surely they must realize that such matters are beyond human investigation. Just remember how much the greatest men who have tried to research vary in their ostensible results, holding extreme and contrary opinions, like those of maniacs. This was Socrates' view of science and its prospects. It is the same skepticism in essence and carried forward, though here with a religious tone for which the Knights and others so harshly denounce Gorgias. But if you look at things as they were in 440-430 B.C. For an astute man of the time, physics as it was then studied might well have been taken as promising no results; and worse still than appearing barren if, like Socrates, he had a keen eye for how much human happiness was wasted on immorality and correctable ignorance; how much could be gained by devoting the same amount of serious study to the latter subject. It should not be omitted the observation that the objection of Socrates: "You can judge how unfruitful these studies are by how much they differ the students among themselves" continues to be very popular today and can be used once and again against theorists or theoretical arguments in each one. Department.
Socrates wished to limit his hearers' studies to human affairs as opposed to divine affairs, the latter including astronomy and physics. He considered all knowledge from the point of view of human practice, which the gods assigned to man as their own object of study and learning, and with reference to which, therefore, they administered all actual phenomena according to principles of the constant and intelligible. order, so that all who chose to learn could learn while those who didn't care suffered from their neglect. But even with these, the most careful study alone was not enough; because the gods did not deign to subject all phenomena to a constant prehistory and consequence, but reserved the great turns and conjunctures for a special punishment. But here again, if a man had diligently learned all that the gods allowed him to learn; and if, moreover, he were zealous to judge them piously, and obtained special information by prophecy, they would be kind to him, and would announce beforehand how they would proceed to put the finishing touches to it, and settle the indecipherable parts of the problem. . The goodness of the gods in answering through their oracles or conveying information through sacrificial signs or child wonders in cases of grave difficulty was, according to Socrates, one of the clearest proofs of their care for the human race. Seeking access to these prophecies, or hints of some impending special divine intervention, was the sideline of anyone doing their best through patient study. But just as it was folly for a man to ask the gods for specific information about things that would enable him to learn for his own industry, so it was no less folly for him, as an apprentice, to examine what they withheld from them - his own speciality. of will
This was the capital innovation that Socrates made in the subject of Athenian scholarship, bringing philosophy, to use Cicero's phrase, from heaven to earth; and so his attempt to draw the line between what was scientifically detectable and what was not; a remarkable attempt because it shows his conviction that scientific and religious views are mutually exclusive, so that where the latter begins, the former ends. It was an innovation, priceless in relation to the new subject he admitted; unimportant in relation to what it supposedly excludes. For, indeed, science, though partly discouraged, was never wholly excluded by the prevalence of that systematic disapproval which he, like the masses of his day, relished: if it was comparatively neglected, it was owing to the greater popularity and greater abundance and question Affordable than he introduced. The science of physics, or astronomy, was limited in scope, known to a few, and even among those few it could not be expanded upon, encouraged, or brought to very fruitful use in discussions. But the moral and political phenomena on which Socrates shed speculative light were plentiful, varied, familiar, and of interest to all; integral-to translate a Greek phrase he liked to quote-"all the good and the bad that found you in your house"; linked not only to the realities of the present, but also to the literature of the past, through the gnomists and other poets.
The reasons that determined this important innovation in the field of study show Socrates mainly as a religious man and a practical and philanthropic teacher, the hero Xenophon. Innovations of his, not least, in method and doctrine, introduce us to the philosopher and the dialectician; the other side of your character or the platonic hero; though loosely traced, but nevertheless recognized and identified by Xenophon.
“Socrates,” says the latter, “kept incessantly discussing human affairs (the meaning of this word will be understood from what has been said above); Investigate: What is Mercy? What is impiety? What is venerable and low? What is fair and unfair? What is temperance or folly? What is courage or cowardice? What is a city? What character is left to a citizen? What is authority over men? What character corresponds to the exercise of such authority? and other similar issues. Men who knew these things he considered good and honorable; He treated men they didn't know like slaves.
Socrates, says Xenophon elsewhere, believed that the dialectical process consisted in gathering and deliberating together, distinguishing things, and dividing them into genera or families, in order to know what each individual thing really was. It was essential to go through this process carefully, as only then could a person regulate his own behavior, help good causes and prevent bad ones. Having enough practice to be easy to do was essential in making a person a good guide or adviser to others. Of course, any man who had been through the process and knew what each thing was could also define it and explain it to others; but if he did not know, it is not surprising that he himself erred and also caused others to err. Furthermore, Aristotle says: “Without a doubt we can attribute two novelties to Socrates; inductive discourses and the definitions of general terms”.
Here I purposely borrow from Xenophon rather than Plato; for the former, in humbly describing a process which he imperfectly appreciated, identifies him even more fully with the true Socrates, and is therefore a better witness than Plato, whose genius not only conceives him, but greatly enlarges him to his own Educational purpose. Have . With our present knowledge, it takes some intellectual effort to discern anything important in Xenophon's words; so familiar was each student with the ordinary notions and degrees of logic and classification, such as gender, definition, individual things grouped in gender; what each thing is and to what genus it belongs, etc. But as familiar as these words are now, they denote a mental process spoken of in 440-430 B.C. BC few people, except Socrates, had conscious awareness. Of course, people conceived and described things in classes, as is implied by the very form of language and the usual association of predicates with objects in general speech. They explained clearly and forcefully their meaning in individual cases: they established maxims, discussed questions, established premises, and drew conclusions about proceedings in the dicastery or about debates in the assembly: they had a rich poetic literature that appealed to all kinds of emotions: They began to assemble a historical narrative mixed with reflection and criticism. But while all this was done, and often admirably well done, it lacked that analytical awareness which would have enabled anyone to describe, explain, or justify what they were doing. People's ideas (speakers and listeners, productive minds and the receiving crowd) were brought together in groups that led to emotional results, or poetic action, rhetorical and descriptive narrative, rather than methodical generalization, a scientific conception i.e., inductively or proved. deductively. This attention reflex that allows people to understand, compare, and correct their own thought processes was just beginning. It has been a recent novelty on the part of professors of rhetoric to analyze the makings of public speaking and to suggest some rules for making male speakers tolerable. Protagoras made only a few grammatical distinctions, while Prodicus distinguished the meanings of words that were nearly equivalent and easily confused. All these procedures seemed so new at the time that they even ridiculed Plato; and yet they were branches of the same analytic tendency that Socrates was now transferring to scientific investigation. It is doubtful that anyone before him used the words genus and species, which originally meant family and form, in the philosophical sense now exclusively attributed to them. None of those many names, called by-products by logicians, which imply particular attention to different parts of the logical process and enable us to consider and criticize it in detail, existed then. They all arose from the schools of Plato, Aristotle, and the philosophers that followed, so that in their beginnings we can trace them back to the common root and father Socrates.
To understand the full value of Socrates' proposed improvements, we need only examine the intellectual paths taken by his predecessors or contemporaries. Different and specific problems were raised: “What is justice? What is piety, courage, political government? What really mean such great and important names as those relating to the conduct or happiness of man?” Now, it has already been pointed out that Anaxagoras, Empedocles, Democritus, the Pythagoreans, all had such vast and undivided problems before them. to them by the ancient poets, bending their minds to devise a system that would explain them all at once, or helping the imagination to imagine how the cosmos began and how it progressed Ethics and physics, man and nature, all merged: and the Pythagoreans , who explained all nature in terms of numbers and numerical relations, applied the same explanation to moral properties, regarding justice as the symbol of a perfect equation, or four, the first of all square numbers. Early philosophers strove to discover the principles, constituents, mobile cause or causes of things in the mass; but the logical division into genera, species and individuals does not seem to have occurred to them or been the subject of special attention by anyone before Socrates. Study ethics, or human dispositions and purposes, outside the physical world and according to their own theory, relating human well-being and happiness as a supreme and global end; treating each of the large and familiar words denoting moral qualities as logical aggregates encompassing many judgments in particular cases, and signifying a certain harmony or consistency of intention between the separate judgments, comparing many of the latter by a process of dialectical examination, to test consistency and completeness of the logical aggregate or general concept as it was in the mind of every human being: all this was part of the same forward movement that produced Socrates.
Therefore, it was a great advance to break the uncontrollable mass conceived as science by previous philosophers; and ethics separately, with a more or less clear reference to its own purpose. Yes, we see, if we are to trust Plato's "Phaedon", that before Socrates established such a clear division, he had tried, or at least hoped, to build an undivided and reformed system, including physics also under ethics. Final; an optimistic scheme of physics that applied the general idea of "what was best" as the guiding principle from which physical explanations should be derived; which he expected to find in Anaxagoras, but did not. But it was an even greater advance to understand and emphasize in conscious application the essential features of that logical process on the correct execution of which our absolute certainty of common truth depends. The notions of genius, subspecies and individuals, as understood - needless to say here the points in which Plato and Aristotle differed from each other and from the modern understanding of them - were then a newly enlightened consciousness in the human mind. The abundance of logical arrangements used in some of Plato's dialogues, such as the Sophist and the Statesman, seems to be due in part to his desire to acquaint listeners with what was then novel, as well as to develop and diversify it. -there. Application type. He takes advantage of numerous indirect opportunities to bring it up, putting into the mouth of his dialogue responses that imply complete inattention, which are revealed later in the course of Socrates' dialogue. What was now begun by Socrates and perfected by Plato was incorporated by the genius of Aristotle as part of a general system of formal logic; a system which was not only of extraordinary value in connection with the trials and controversies of its day, but which, having worked imperceptibly on the minds of educated men, did much to establish what was right in the habits of modern thought. for shape. Although it has now been extended and reworked by some modern authors - notably Mr. John Stuart Mill in his admirable System of Logic - in a framework compatible with the enormous increase in knowledge and expansion of the positive method that came to pass into the Before today, we must remember that the gap between the best of modern logic and that of Aristotle it is hardly as wide as the gap between Aristotle and those who preceded him by a century, Empedocles, Anaxagoras and the Pythagoreans; and that the movement before the last begins with Socrates.
In Xenophon, Plato and Aristotle, both the growth and the habitual use of logical classification are presented as simultaneous with and dependent on the dialectic. In this methodical discussion, so consistent with the marked sociability of the Greek character, the rapid repetition of brief questions and answers was necessary as a stimulus to attention, at a time when precise and precise reflections on abstract matters were not common. matters. . so little cultivated But Socrates' dialectic had far greater and more important peculiarities than these. We must always see his method in the context of the subjects to whom he applies it. As these matters were not mysterious or private, but related to the practical life of the home, the market, the city, the dicastery, the gymnasium or the temple that everyone knew, Socrates never presented himself as a teacher. nor as a man with new knowledge to impart. On the contrary, he consistently and even demonstratively rejected such claims. But the subjects on which he spoke were only those which all professed to know perfectly and completely, and which each believed he was capable of teaching others, instead of demanding teaching for himself. To questions like these: What is justice? What is mercy? What is a democracy? What is a law? Each man thought he had a safe opinion and even wondered why everyone else was in trouble. When Socrates, professing his ignorance, asked such a question, he found no difficulty in getting an answer, given beforehand and with very little reflection. The answer must be the explanation or definition of a term - familiar but wide and broad in meaning - given by someone who has never before tried to give himself an explanation of what it meant. Having obtained this answer, Socrates formulated new questions and applied them to specific cases to which the respondent was obliged to give inconsistent answers with the first ones; This shows that the definition was either too narrow or too broad or defective in one essential respect. The defendant then changed his answer; but this was a prelude to other questions which could only be answered inconsistently with the amendment; and the interviewee, after many attempts at disentanglement, had to plead guilty to the inconsistencies, admitting that he could not give a satisfactory answer to the original question, which at first seemed so simple and familiar. Or, if he didn't admit it himself, listeners felt it strongly. The dialogue as it is presented to us usually ends with a purely negative result, showing that the interviewee was unable to answer the question posed in a coherent and satisfactory way for him. Socrates, who from the beginning declared that he supported no positive theory, retains to the end the same attitude of a learner who would be glad to solve the difficulty if he could, but regrets having been disappointed by this instruction, which the defendant had promised him. .
Through this description, we see how this remarkable man questioned the extent to which the link between the dialectical method and the logical distribution of details into species and genera was intimate. The discussion first started by Socrates revolves around the meaning of a great generic concept, the questions with which he pursues make the answer given collide with various details that he should not understand, but does; or with other people who should understand but don't. In this way, the latent and undefined bundle of associations that has developed around a familiar concept is, so to speak, permeated by a fermenting yeast, forcing it to expand in recognizable portions and to perform the proper function that the concept should have. become the subject of a different consciousness. The inconsistencies into which the hearer is betrayed in his various responses, announce to him the fact that he has not yet acquired anything like a clear and complete conception of the common thread which brings together the various details grouped under one concept, which always lies on his lips. of territory or perhaps to allow him to see another no less important fact, that there is no such common feature, and that the generalization is merely nominal and fallacious. In any case, he is led to the line of thought that leads to a correction of the generalization and points out to him what Plato asks, to see the one in the many and the many in the one. With no predecessor to copy, Socrates instinctively fell into what Aristotle describes as the two-way dialectical process; break the one into many and recombine the many into one; Socrates fulfilled the first duty, both the first and the most essential, directly through his analytic questioning; Often he did not directly undertake the latter or synthetic procedure, but endeavored to arm and stimulate the listener's mind so that he could do it himself. This and many denote the logical distribution of a diverse topic in broad terms, with a clear understanding of the attributes implied or connoted by each term to distinguish the details to which it actually refers. At a time when such a logical distribution was still new as a matter of conscience, it could hardly have been examined and expounded in spirit by a less rigorous procedure than Socrates' dialectic of interrogation, applied to the analysis of some of Respondent's attempts. apprehend yourself hastened to give a definition; this inductive discourse and search for (clear general terms or) definitions of general terms which Aristotle so aptly notes as his peculiar innovation.
I have already indicated the conviction of the religious mission under which Socrates acted in the pursuit of this system of dialogue and investigation. He probably started cautiously, on a modest scale and under the pressure of logical shame weighing on his own mind. But as he progressed and succeeded, his sincere soul was imbued with devotion to what he considered a duty. It was probably at this time that the sister-friend Charefonte returned from Delphi with the oracular answer, noted a few pages above, to which Socrates himself alludes, which led him to broaden the scope of his conversation and question a group of people about what those what he believed. he had not previously dared address well-known politicians, poets, and craftsmen. He found them more confident than the humblest people in their own wisdom, but equally unable to answer his questions without being led to contradictory answers.
Such proof of famous men in Athens is emphasized in the "Platonic Apology" because it was the main cause of that unpopularity which Socrates immediately deplores before the Dicastes and of which he gives an account. Nor can we doubt that this was the most impressive part of his speech in the eyes of enemies and admirers, and also the most flattering to his own natural temper. Even so, it would be a mistake to present this part of Socrates' general purpose - or his divine mission, if we adopt his own language - as if it were the whole; and to describe him as one who presides only to expose selected leaders, politicians, sophists, poets, or others who, having gained an undeserved reputation, have puffed themselves up with a foolish vanity of their own abilities, and are in fact superficial and incompetent. Such a conception of Socrates is inadequate and wrong. Their conversation, as I have before indicated, was absolutely universal and indiscriminate; while the mental defect which he sought to correct was not altogether peculiar to the leaders, but common to the mass of mankind, though it appeared exaggerated in them, partly because more was expected of them, partly because of the general tendency. the feeling of self-esteem is naturally and fairly higher in their hearts than in ordinary people. That lack was the "appearance and imagination of knowledge without reality" about human life with its duties, purposes and conditions; the knowledge that Socrates emphatically called "human wisdom" and considered essential to the dignity of free man; while other branches of science treated them as superhuman1 and as a curiosity, not only superfluous, but reprehensible. His fight against that false conviction of knowledge, in one man as in another, on these subjects - for in him, I repeat, we must never separate the method from the subject - which is clearly marked even in Xenophon, becomes abundantly and impressively illustrated by the genius prolific of Plato, and formed the true missionary plan which pervaded the last half of his long life; a scheme much broader and also more generous than that anti-Sophistic polemic which so many authors attribute to it as their pre-eminent object.
Following the thread of his research, there was no subject that Socrates insisted on more often than the contrast between people's knowledge of the general affairs of man and society and that possessed by artists or professionals in their respective specialized trades. He reproduced this comparison so continually that his enemies accused him of using it out of hand. Take any man in any particular profession - a carpenter, a brazier, an aviator, a musician, a surgeon - and examine him for his professional knowledge, and you will find that he can understand people and the steps they take. . first was acquired; he can describe to you his general objective, the specific means he employs to achieve the objective, the reason why such means should be employed and why precautions should be taken to combat this particular obstacle and that; he can teach his trade to others, he is considered an authority on matters of his trade, so that no layman thinks of contesting the decision of a surgeon in case of illness or a pilot at sea. But while this is so in relation to any particular art, how great is the contrast in relation to the art of the just, social and useful life, which constitutes, or should constitute, the common business that is equally important to all. ! On this subject, Socrates noted that everyone feels fully informed and confident in their own knowledge; yet no one knew from whom or by what steps he had learned it: no one had ever given any special thought, neither to the ends, nor to the means, nor to the obstacles: no one could explain the ideas in his own mind, or give a coherent explanation explanation. when the proper questions were put to him, they were, No one could teach another, which he concluded, he thought, that there were no professed teachers, and that the sons of the best men were often without merit: each knew for himself, and confidently expounded general propositions, without the other. man to look up to as a know it all; however, there was no end to disagreements and disputes about individual cases.
This was the general contrast that Socrates tried to impress on his listeners by asking a variety of questions relating directly or indirectly to him. One form of exposition that Plato devoted much of his ingenuity to expanding on in dialogue was to discuss whether virtue is really teachable. How did superior men like Aristeides and Pericles acquire the exceptional qualities essential for the leadership and administration of Athens, without learning them from a well-known teacher, having studied music and gymnastics, nor giving their children the same virtues as he could secure? , either through your own agency or through a teacher? Was it not rather the fact that, since virtue was never explicitly taught, it was not really teachable; but granted or withheld by the particular will and grace of the gods? When a man has a young horse to break or train, he has no difficulty in finding a committed trainer, fully acquainted with the habits of the breed, to inculcate the necessary excellence in the animal; but who can he find to teach his children virtue, with the same tentative knowledge and sure result? No, how can anyone teach virtue, or claim that virtue is teachable, unless he is willing to explain what virtue is, and what are the points of analogy and difference between its various branches? justice, temperance, fortitude, prudence, etc.? In several Platonic dialogues, the discussion revolves around the analysis of these last words: “Laches” and “Protagoras” on bravery, “Charmides” on temperance, “Euthyphro” on holiness.
Through this and similar discussions, Socrates and Plato indirectly raised all the important questions concerning society, human aspirations and duties, and the main moral qualities considered virtuous in individuals. As the general terms around which his conversation revolved were among the most up-to-date and familiar in the language, the many details with which he tested the listener's rational understanding and consistent application of such broad terms were chosen from among the most familiar phenomena of the language. everyday life; bring the inconsistency home, if there is an inconsistency, in a way that is obvious to everyone. The answers given to him - not only by ordinary citizens, but also by talented and ingenious men, such as poets or rhetoricians - when asked to explain the moral concepts and ideas contained in their own compositions, likewise revealed this state of mind. against which his crusade was directed, commanded and ordered by the oracle at Delphi, the appearance and imagination of knowledge without real knowledge. They proclaimed a confident and resolute conviction about the greatest and most serious problems that affect man and society, in the hearts of people who never thought about them enough to realize that they presented some difficulty. Such a conviction had grown up gradually and unconsciously, partly through authoritative communication, partly through imperceptible transmission from others; The process begins before reason as skill, continues with little help and control from reason, and is never finally revised. With the great common concepts and phrases about human life and society, a complex network of associations built up from innumerable details, each trivial in itself and lost in memory, assembled by a powerful feeling and absorbed by everything. speak, in the atmosphere of authority and example around him. Upon this foundation did imaginary knowledge really rest; and reason, if invoked, was invoked simply as the servant, explainer, or apologist of the preexisting state of mind; as an aftermarket accessory, not as a test or verification. They all found these beliefs in their own minds without knowing how they got there; and he has witnessed them in others as part of a general background of unexamined platitudes and credibility. As the words were simultaneously of great importance, embodied in ancient and familiar mental processes and surrounded by a strong emotional body, the general statements in which they were embodied seemed obvious and convincing to everyone: so that, despite the constant dispute in individual cases, no one felt compelled to analyze the general propositions themselves or to consider whether they had verified their meaning and could use them sensibly and consistently.
The phenomenon referred to here is too obvious even today to require a more detailed explanation as a fact. In morals, in politics, in economics, in all matters affecting man and society, the same confident belief in knowledge without reality abounds: the same generation and dissemination of beliefs unsupported by authority and example. feeling, unaware of the stages or conditions of its growth; the same preoccupation with reason as the one-sided defender of prefabricated feeling; the same delusion, because every man is familiar with the language, that therefore every man is a master of the complex facts, judgments, and tendencies implied in their meaning, and competent to use broad words and truth or falsehood in Grand Suggestions. accept without analysis or special study.
However, there is an important difference between our time and that of Socrates. In his day, impressions were of the same self-propagating, self-propagating, anti-scientific character, not only in relation to man and society, but also in relation to the physical world. The popular astronomy of the Socratic age was a collection of primitive and superficial observations and fanciful inferences passed unexamined from older men to younger men, accepted with unsuspecting faith and hallowed by intense feelings. Not only men like Nikias or Anytus and Melitus, but even Socrates himself protested against Anaxagoras' rashness in reducing the divine Helois and Selene to the sun and moon of predictable size and motion. But now the development of the scientific point of view, with the enormous increase in physical and mathematical methodological knowledge, has taught everyone that such primitive astronomical and physical beliefs were nothing more than "an illusion of knowledge without reality". All give up without hesitation, seek their conclusions from the scientific teacher and seek their guarantee only in demonstrations. A man who has never given special study to astronomy knows that he does not know it; to imagine that he tasted it without such preparation would be absurd. Although the scientific view has achieved complete dominance in relation to the physical world, it has developed comparatively little in human and social affairs where "fantasy-knowledge without reality" does not continue to reign without criticism or resistance. but as a supreme force. And if a new Socrates were now on the market to ask the same questions of men of all classes and professions, he would find the same firm conviction and the same clueless dogmatism about generalities; such as hesitation, blindness, and contradiction when proven by cross-examination of details.
In Socrates' time this last comparison was not overt; as there was no scientifically structured doctrine on any subject, the comparison which he actually made, drawn from special trades and professions, led him to an important result. He was the first to recognize, and the idea permeates all his speculations, that as in any art or profession there is an end to be attained, a theory which lays down the means and conditions by which it may be attained, and the prescriptions derived from it. . . this theory, such prescriptions taken collectively to guide and cover almost the entire field of practice, but each prescription considered individually can conflict with others and, therefore, be the subject of exceptional cases; All this, then, is no less true and no less achievable respecting the general art of human life and society. There is a grand and overarching end goal: the safety and happiness, as far as possible, of all people in society: there may be a theory setting out the means and conditions by which that end may be most nearly achieved; there may also be precepts which dictate to each man the conduct and character which best suits him to become a helper in the attainment of that end, and strictly discourage the actions which tend to hinder it; precepts derived from theory, each of which, taken separately, is subject to exceptions, but together they govern practice, as in each individual art. Socrates and Plato speak of "the art of dealing with people", "the art of behaving in society", "that science whose aim is to make people happy", and make a clear distinction between art or Rules of Practice derived from a theoretical study of the subject and taught with anticipation of the purpose, and sheer skill, unreasonable and unreasonable, or skill acquired by simple copying or assimilation, by a process that no one could explain.
Plato, with that variety of oblique allusions peculiar to him, continually forces the reader to consider that human and social life has its own aims and ends, no less than each individual profession or craft; and obliges him to transfer to the former that conscious analysis as a science and intelligent practice as an art, which in the latter are known as conditions of success. To promote these rational conceptions of "science and art", Socrates undertook his crusade against "that presumption of knowledge without reality" which reigned undisturbed in the moral world around him and was only slightly disturbed where the physical world was concerned. To him the inscription "Know thyself" inscribed on the temple at Delphi was the holiest of all scriptures, which he constantly quoted and vigorously exhorted his hearers; interpret it in the sense of "knowing what kind of man you are and what your abilities are in relation to human use". His presentation was both original and effective in equal measure, and although he was adept at varying his topics and questions according to the person he was dealing with, his first aim was to get the listener to gauge his own measure. genuine knowledge or genuine ignorance. Preaching, admonishing and even refuting individual errors seemed pointless to Socrates as long as the mind was shrouded in its usual fog or illusion of wisdom: that fog had to clear before new light could enter. As the hearer was normally ready to proclaim affirmative explanations of those general teachings and explanations of those terms to which he was most attached and in which he had the most absolute confidence, Socrates dissected them and showed that they implied contradiction and inconsistency; He admits to having no positive opinion, nor does he offer one until the listener's mind has been subjected to a proper purification interrogation.
It was this indirect and negative process which, though only part of the whole, emerged as its most primal and conspicuous feature, and determined its reputation among large numbers of people who did not bother to know anything more about it. It was an exposition as painful as it was surprising for the interviewee, and caused several of them to distance themselves permanently, so that they never approached him again, but returned to their previous state of mind without permanence. change. But, on the other hand, the ingenuity and novelty of the process turned out to be very interesting for the listeners, especially for the young, children of the rich and idle workers; who not only carried with them a high degree of admiration for Socrates, but also enjoyed trying to copy his negative polemics. It is likely that men like Alcibiades and Kritias frequented their society primarily to acquire a quality they could use in their political careers. His constant habit of never leaving a general concept undefined, but immediately applying it to particulars; the simple and effective examples from which you made your choice; the series of questionnaires, each leading to a result no one expected; the roundabout and clumsy way in which the subject was turned around and finally approached and expounded from a very different face, all represented a kind of prerogative in Socrates that no one else seems to have come close to. His impact was reinforced by a very plausible and engaging voice and manner and, to some extent, by the eccentricity of his mute countenance. What was called "his irony", or taking on the role of an ignorant student requesting information from someone who knew more than he did, while essential as an excuse for his practice as an interrogator, also helped to gain momentum and add novelty to his conversation . ; and hence utterly forbidden both didactic pedantry and apparent partiality as a lawyer; which was no small advantage for someone who talked so much. After he became famous, this uniform confession of ignorance was generally interpreted in debates as mere affectation; and those who listened to him only now and then, without invading his privacy, often suspected that he amused himself with brilliant paradoxes. Consequently, Timon the satirist and Zeno the Epicurean described him as a buffoon who ridiculed everyone, especially important men.
The negative and indirect vein of Socrates was elaborated and immortalized by Plato; while Xenophon, who had little sympathy for him, complains that others view their teacher exclusively from this side, and may not see him as a guide to virtue, but only as a stimulating and moving force. One of the main purposes of his "Memorabilia" is to show that, after having sufficiently tormented the novices with the negative question, Socrates changed his tone, refrained from embarrassing them, and gave them recipes no less clear and simple than those which can be used directly. in practice. I have no doubt that this was often the case, and that the various dialogues in which Xenophon introduces us to the philosopher of moderation, temperance, piety, paternal duty, brotherly love, fidelity in friendship, industriousness, benevolence, etc. reasons a true picture of a valuable side of your character and an integral part of the whole. Socrates shared this direct admonitory influence with Prodicus and the best sophists.
Yet it is not from the virtue of his life nor the goodness of his precepts - though both were essential traits of his character - that he derives his special title to fame, but from his originality and prolific efficiency in the line of speculation. . Philosophy. The first part of this originality, as we have just said, was that he was the first to conceive the idea of an ethical science with its own purpose and with principles open to testing and improvement; but the second, and no less important, point was his peculiar method and his extraordinary ability to awaken scientific impulses and abilities in the minds of others. This effect was not produced by positive teaching. Both Socrates and Plato believed that little mental improvement could be achieved through directly communicated exposition or through new written content that was retained in memory. It required the mind to work mind over mind, through brief questions and answers or a specialized application of the dialectical process, to generate new thoughts and forces; process that Plato, with his exuberant imagination, compares to copulation and pregnancy, and presents it as the true and only effective way of propagating the philosophical spirit.
We would greatly misinterpret Socrates' negative and indirect trait if we assumed that it ends in nothing more than a simple negation. With minds busy or talentless, with the indiscriminate public that heard it, it probably left little lasting effect, ending up in a mere feeling of admiration for intelligence, or perhaps revulsion at the paradox: with practical minds like Xenophon, it was its effect that he entered into society. prescriptive admonition: but where the seed fell on an intellect that had the least disposition or capacity for systematic thought, the negation had only the effect of first repelling the hearer, then giving him a new impetus to advance. The Socratic dialectic that freed the mind from its fog of imaginary knowledge and exposed real ignorance produced an immediate torpedo-like effect: the newly created awareness of ignorance was unexpected, painful and humiliating in equal measure - a time of doubt. and restlessness; but combined with an inner work and a longing for the truth never experienced before. Such an intellectual renaissance, which could never begin until the mind freed itself from its original illusion of false knowledge, was seen by Socrates not only as an index and precursor, but as an indispensable condition for future progress. It was the midpoint of the ascending mental scale; the lowest point is ignorance, unconscious, complacent and mistaken knowledge; the next superior, ignorant, exposed, ashamed of himself and thirsty for knowledge he does not yet possess; while real knowledge, the third and highest level, could only be attained after passing through the second preliminary level. That second was kind of embarrassing; and any mind which was intrinsically incapable of this, or in which it never arose for want of the necessary connection, was barren for all purposes of original or self-acquired thought. Socrates considered it his vocation and special ability to use another Platonic metaphor, while he himself lacked the procreative capacity to deal with minds as pregnant and troubled as a midwife; to assist them in the spiritual birth by which they would be relieved, but at the same time to examine the offspring they had borne; and if it is distorted or unpromising, discard it with the rigor of a liturgical nurse, whatever may be the reluctance of the mother spirit to part with her newborn. There is nothing that Plato can more fruitfully illustrate than this relationship between teacher and pupil, working not with what he put into the latter, but what he developed out of it; creating an uneasy longing for the truth, assisting in the elaboration necessary to obtain relief, and examining whether the doctrine elaborated has the real characteristics or only the deceptive appearance of the truth.
Few things are more remarkable than Socrates' description of colloquial magic and its vehement effects on those who heard it and felt its power. Its suggestive and stimulating power was such an extraordinary gift that it justified the profusion of Plato's images to illustrate it. On the subjects to which he devoted himself, man and society, his listeners did little more than feel and affirm: Socrates promised to make them reflect, weigh and examine their own judgments until they were reconciled with each other, as well as with an end known and honored. The generalizations contained in his judgments came together and fused in a way at once so intimate, so familiar, and yet so uncorroborated, that the details they contained were neglected: so that Socrates, when forgetful of these details of a experience, presents the listener with her own opinion from a whole new perspective. Their conversations - even if they appear in Xenophon's interpretation, which represents only a mere skeleton of reality - present the main characteristics of a genuine inductive method, fighting against the deep but imperceptible defects of the first intellectual action by itself, unconscious. scientific march or leadership, - thethe mind took liberty—in which bacon stops so emphatically. in the midst of an abundance ofnegative instances, whose scientific value lies in the "Novum Organon", and also negative examples so cunningly chosen that they generally point the way to a new truth, rather than the error they ward off, end up pressing the listener's mind to keep it private, as a condition of any fair and consistent generalization; and to prevent him from enslaving himself to unexamined formulas, or surrendering mere persuasion under the authoritative sentence of reason. Rather than endeavoring to implant in the listener a conclusion readily accepted with confidence, the questioner maintains a prolonged suspense, placing special emphasis on both positive and negative details; nor is its purpose served until that state of comprehensive knowledge and evidence is created from which the conclusion emerges as a living product, with a self-sustaining root and force of its own, consciously connected with its premises. If the conclusion thus produced is not the same as that assumed by the questioner himself, it will at least be another one, worthy of a competent and examining mind taking its own view independent of the relevant evidence. And for all the variety and divergence of details which we find constrained in Socrates' language, the end to which they all point is one and the same, emphatically, the well-being and happiness of social man.
Therefore, the objective is not to increase proselytes or obtain the approval of the authorities, but to create fervent seekers, analytical intellectuals, coherent agents and with a vision of the future, capable of reasoning for themselves and teaching others, as well as them. about them. To force inductive generalization. , who is the only one who can draw reliable conclusions, which the Socratic method strives for. In many of the Platonic dialogues, in which Socrates is presented as the main contender, we read a series of discussions and arguments which are different, though related to the same subject, but which end with either a purely negative result or no particular result. result at all. Commentators have often tried, but I think with little success, either by arranging the dialogues in a presumed order or by various other hypotheses, to ascribe a positive doctrinal conclusion to the author's indirect contemplation. But if Plato had been able to aim at such a substantive demonstration, we cannot imagine that he would have left his intention so obscure, visible only through a critical microscope, but in the argumentative process itself, linked to the general sense of the subject to which he refers. . . Both negative and positive evidence are applied.
This follows what I indicated in the previous chapter by mentioning Zeno and the first manifestations of the dialectic in relation to the great impulse, the eclectic argument and the strength and advance of the negative arm in Greek speculative philosophy. Through Socrates, this breadth of the dialectical realm passed first from Zeno to Plato and then to Aristotle. It was a natural process for men who were not only interested in confirming or disproving a particular conclusion, but also - as experienced mathematicians in their own science - loved, valued and had the means to improve the dialectical process itself. verification you performed; a sentiment of which there is ample evidence in Platonic writings. Such pleasure in scientific work, though not only innocent, but valuable as a stimulant and guarantee against error, and although good taste is always treated among mathematicians with the sympathy it deserves, attracts much undeserved reproach from modern historians. under the name of disputed love, sophistry, or skeptical subtlety.
But beyond any love of process, the themes to which the dialectic was applied from Socrates onwards, man and society, ethics, politics, metaphysics, etc., were those particularly required of this multifaceted treatment. In questions like these, which concern sequences of events depending on a multiplicity of competing or conflicting causes, it is impossible to arrive, by a single strand of positive reasoning or induction, at an absolute doctrine which can be expected to be always true. whether or not he remembers the test; as is the case with mathematical, astronomical or physical truth. The most that science can discover about such complicated matters is an accumulation, not of theorems and absolute predictions, but of trends; studying the effect of each individual cause and combining them as best as possible. A knowledge of the trends thus obtained, though far from certain, is of paramount importance for guidance: but it is clear that conclusions of this kind, drawn from various lines of evidence, are true only as a whole and always have qualifications. they can never be safely separated from the evidence on which they rest, or taught as absolute and sacred formulas. And this objective cannot be achieved in any other way than through renewed discussions, conducted from new and different points of view, and with free play for the negative arm, which is indispensable both as a stimulus and as a control. Demanding nothing but results, rejecting the work of verification, contenting oneself with a collection already made up of positive arguments established as evidence, and denouncing as a common enemy or skeptic the negative thinker who creates new difficulties is a practice used both in antiquity and in ancient times. antiquity is also widespread enough in modern times. But it is nevertheless a renunciation of the dignity and even the functions of speculative philosophy. It is the direct inversion of the method of Socrates and Plato, who, as researchers, felt the emergence of multiple threads of argumentation combined with the constant presence of the interrogation of the great questions they dealt with.listThey were indispensable. He is no less at variance with the views of Aristotle - though a very different man from both - who runs away from his subject on all sides, observing and contemplating all its difficulties, and emphatically insisting on the necessity of bringing all these difficulties to the forefront. surfaced. in full force, as a stimulus and guide to positive philosophy, and as a proof of its sufficiency.
If we understand Socrates' method in this way, we cannot fail to explain a certain deviation on his part - and an even greater deviation from Plato, who extended the method much further in writing - with the sophists, without accepting the latter. as corrupt teachers. In order to qualify young people for an active life, they accepted the prevailing ethical and political climate, with its unexamined platitudes and contradictions, and simply sought to mold them into what was considered meritorious character in Athens. They were thus exposed along with others - and more than others, following their calling - they were subjected to Socrates' analytical interrogation and were able to defend themselves so little.
Whatever the success of Protagoras, or any other among these sophists, Socrates' tremendous originality produced results not only equal at the time, but incomparably greater and more lasting in the future. From his intellectual school sprang not only Plato, himself an innkeeper, but all the other leaders of Greek speculation in the next half-century and all those who continued the great line of speculative philosophy in later ages. Eukledes and the Megarid school of philosophy, Aristippus and the Cyrenes, Antisthenes and Diogenes, the first of the so-called Cynics, all grew more or less directly from the encouragement provided by Socrates, although each followed a different line of thought. Ethics remains what Socrates made first, a branch of philosophy in its own right, alongside which politics, rhetoric, logic, and other speculations about man and society were grouped; they were all more popular and more controversial than physics, which at the time offered comparatively little charm and even less achievable certainty. There is no doubt that the individual influence of Socrates permanently broadened the horizons, improved the method and multiplied the emerging minds of the Greek speculative world in a way never before equaled. Later philosophers may have had more elaborate teachings and a larger number of disciples to absorb their ideas; but none of them used the same stimulating method with the same effectiveness; none of them extinguished in other minds that fire which kindles the original thought; none of them produced in others the pangs of intellectual pregnancy, nor awakened in others the fresh, unborrowed bud of a truly fertile mind.
Having addressed Socrates, both as the first to open the field of ethics to scientific study, and as the author of a method little copied and incomparable since his time, for stimulating serious analytical investigation in the minds of others, I speak finally of your theory. teaching. Given the imaginative and implausible ideas upon which the Pythagoreans and other predecessors built their theories of virtue and vice, it is surprising that Socrates, having no better guides, established an ethical doctrine that has double merit as far as it goes. to be true, legitimate and of wide generality: although it errs, mainly when enunciating part of the essential conditions of virtue -sometimes also part of the ethical end- as if it were the whole. Socrates resolved all virtues into knowledge or wisdom; all vices, in ignorance or madness. Doing the right thing was the only way to instil happiness, or the minimum amount of unhappiness compatible with a given situation: now that was exactly what everyone wanted and aspired to; just that many people have taken the wrong path out of ignorance; and no man was wise enough to always choose what is right. But just as no one willingly made himself an enemy, so no one willingly did evil; because you have not been fully or correctly informed of the consequences of your own actions; then the real remedy was an enlarged teaching of consequences and improved discernment. In order for him to be ready to be taught, the only condition required was to make him aware of his own ignorance; lack of conscience was the root cause of both insubordination and addiction.
It is true that this doctrine lays down part of the essential conditions of virtue; and this is also the most imperative part, since there can be no safe moral conduct except under the supremacy of reason. But it is also true that it does not attend to what is no less essential in virtue, the right state of feelings, desires, etc., by considering the intellect alone; and was pointed out by Aristotle, as well as by many others. In my opinion, it is futile to try to discover, by refined explanation, that Socrates meant by "knowledge" something more than is directly implied by the word. He had imagined that man's great depravity was less vice than madness; that state in which a person does not know what he is doing. Against malevolent man security, both public and private, may be taken to considerable effect; against the madman there is no more security than eternal containment. He is incapable of any of the duties that belong to a social man, nor can he, even if he wants to, do good to himself or others. Indeed, the feeling we feel for such an unhappy being is very different from the moral reproach we feel for a malicious person who knowingly does evil. But Socrates measured both against the ends of human life and society, declaring the latter less completely depraved for these ends than the former. Madness was ignorance of the highest order, accompanied by the fact that the madman himself was unaware of his own ignorance and genuinely believed that he knew what he was doing. But beyond this extreme there were many variations and gradations in the scale of ignorance, which, when accompanied by a false presumption of knowledge, differed only in the degree of madness, and each of these disqualified a man in proportion to his degree of knowledge. insanity. what i had to do. thing that covered The worst of all ignorance, the closest to madness, was when a man did not know himself and thought he knew what he really did not know and that he could do, avoid or bear what was beyond his capacity. for instance, when he tried to say the same truth, he said now one thing, now the other; or, setting up the same arithmetic figures, they sometimes made a larger sum, sometimes a smaller sum. A person who knows letters, or an arithmetician, can certainly write wrongly or misalign on purpose, but he can also do the operations correctly if he wants to; while someone who cannot write or count cannot do it well, though he must try. The first is therefore closer to a good speller or arithmetic than the second. Thus, if anyone knows what is just, honorable, and good, but commits contrary acts, he is more just, or approaches a just man, than he who does not know what just actions are and does not distinguish them from unjust ones. any; because he cannot behave justly, no matter how much he wants to.
The opinion here represented impressively illustrates the general teaching of Socrates. I have already indicated that the basic idea which governed his train of thought was the analogy of the social life of every human being and the duty of a particular profession or trade. Now, what is demanded above all from these men in particular is their professional capacity; without that no one would ever think of hiring them, however good their dispositions; Good humor and diligence are assumed unless otherwise positively indicated. But why do we indulge in such presumption? As your financial interest, professional position and position among your competitors are about to succeed, we are counting on your best efforts. But in relation to that varied and indefinite series of actions which constitute the sum total of social duties, man has no interest so special as to guide and impel him, nor can we presuppose in him those dispositions which assure him that he does what is right. right. thing. Whatever he does, wherever he is, he knows what's right. Humanity is bound to pay premiums for these dispositions, and to punish contrary ones with praise and blame; moreover, the natural sympathies and antipathies of ordinary minds, which so strongly determine the application of moral concepts, spontaneously run in that direction, and even exceed the limit which reason would dictate. The analogy between the special contribution paid and the general social security contribution fails in this regard. Even if Socrates were right about the first - and this would be far from true - in allowing the intellectual conditions of good behavior to represent the whole, such a conclusion could not safely be extended to the second.
Socrates said that man's noblest pursuit is to do good. Doing good consisted in doing a thing well after learning and practicing it by reasonable and proper means; it was very different from luck or success without rational planning and preparation. “The best man (said he) and the most beloved of the gods is he who, as an agriculturist, performs well the duties of agriculture; as a surgeon, those of the medical art; in political life his duty to the community. But he who does no good is neither useful nor acceptable to the gods." This is the Socratic view of human life; seeing it as a collection of realities and practical details; translating the big words of moral vocabulary into those everyday details to which essentially refer to; to consider acts, not dispositions which are not the act (contrary to the ordinary flow of moral sympathies); to impose on all that what he chiefly needed was to teach and practice as preparations for action; and that, therefore, , ignorance, especially ignorance mistaking itself for knowledge, was its lack of capital. The religion of Socrates, like his ethics, was concerned with practical human ends, and no one ever had that transcendentalism less in his mind than his scholar Plato displays it so abundantly.
It is undeniable, then, that Socrates formulated a very narrow general ethical theory, expressing a part of the truth as if it were the whole. But, as is often the case with philosophers who make the same mistake, we find that he did not confine his deductive reasoning to the bounds of theory, but escaped erroneous consequences by partial contradiction. For example; no one ever insisted more strongly than he did on the necessity of controlling the passions and desires, of enforcing good habits, and on the value of the state of feeling and emotion which tended to constitute such a course. Indeed, this is a distinctive feature of his admonitions. He exhorted men to limit their external needs, to be patiently parsimonious, and to cultivate the pleasures that would surely come from duty, self-examination and conscience, even before honor and progress, internal improvement. Such serious attention in measuring the elements and conditions of happiness to the state of internal associations as opposed to the effects of external causes, as well as the efforts made to clarify how dependent the latter are on the former for their power to confer happiness. , and how sufficient is a moderate happiness in relation to the outward, provided the inward man is properly disciplined, is a current of thought which permeated Socrates and Plato, and passed from them, under various modifications, to most of them. ethics schools. Philosophy. Protagoras or Prodicus, who educate rich young men to an active life without entirely omitting that inner element of happiness, will probably dwell even less on this; a point of decided superiority with Socrates.
Socrates' political views were very similar to his ethics and deserve special attention, as they contributed in part to his condemnation by the Dicastery. He believed that the functions of government legitimately belonged to those who best knew how to exercise them for the benefit of the governed. “He who held the scepter was not a legitimate king or governor, nor was he chosen by any people, nor was he the one who took office by lot, nor was he the one who entered by force or fraud, but only he knew how to do it. . govern well." As the pilot reigned aboard a ship, the surgeon in a hospital, the instructor in a lecture; all the rest were eager to obey these professional superiors, even thanking and rewarding them for their instructions, simply because his greater knowledge was an accepted fact.It is absurd, said Socrates, to choose civil servants by lot if no one on board would give himself up to the care of a randomly chosen pilot, any more than a carpenter or a musician.
We do not know what arrangements Socrates suggested for applying his principle in practice, for finding out who was the strongest man in terms of knowledge, or for replacing him if he became incapacitated or someone more able than he should appear. The analogies of the pilot, the surgeon and professionals in general would naturally lead him to popular election, renewable for temporary periods; because none of these professionals, no matter how high their positive knowledge, is ever trusted or obeyed except by free choice of those who trust them, being able to choose another one at any time. But it does not seem that Socrates followed this part of the analogy. His colleagues told him that their main intellectual ruler would be a despot who could refuse to listen to good advice or even kill those who gave it to him if he wanted to. "He won't do that," replied Socrates, "because if he does, he himself will be the biggest loser."
In this teaching of Socrates we can see the same imperfection as in the ethical teaching; a willingness to let the intellectual conditions of political propriety represent the whole. His negative political doctrine is unmistakable: he supported neither democracy nor the oligarchy. Clinging to the Athenian constitution neither by sentiment nor conviction, he sympathized with oligarchic usurpers like 430. His ideal positive state, so far as we can guess, would have been something like that elaborated in Xenophon's "Cyropedia."
In describing Socrates' persevering activity as a religious and intellectual missionary, we are really describing his life; because he had no other occupation than this constant intercourse with the Athenian public; his random conversation and his invincible dialectic. He loyally and courageously discharged his duties as a hoplite in the military service, but he abstained from official duties in the dicastery, the public assembly, or the senate, except in that memorable year of the Battle of Arginusae, and he indulged none of these enmities. .partisans that an active public life in Athens often provoked. His life was legally impeccable, and he was never educated before the dicastery until his last examination at age seventy. This in 423 B.C. before Christ, when Aristophanes' "Clouds" were brought on stage, he stood out in the public eye, one thing is certain, perhaps he was and was remarkable before: so that we can hardly admit that he was under thirty older. public discussions, notorious and effective until his trial in 399 BC.
In that year Melitus, supported by two auxiliaries, Anytus and Lykon, drew up an indictment against him, and placed an indictment against him in the appointed place, the porch in front of the office of the second or royal archon, in these terms: "Socrates finds himself guilty of crimes: first, for not worshiping the gods that the city worships, but for introducing new deities of his own, then, for youthful corruption. The penalty due is... death.
It is true that neither Socrates' behavior nor speech underwent any change for many years; for his uniformity of speech is both derided by his enemies and confessed by himself. Our first feeling, beyond the question of guilt or innocence, is therefore one of astonishment that he should be prosecuted at the age of seventy for persisting in a profession which he has publicly pursued for the last twenty-five or thirty years. Xenophon, admired by his teacher, takes the matter to a much higher level, expressing a sense of indignation and astonishment that the Athenians should find anything to condemn in a man so admirable in every respect. But anyone who carefully considers the picture I have drawn of Socrates' purpose, work, and extraordinary publicity will be more inclined to wonder whether the charge was not made last, but not long before. This is certainly the impression conveyed by Socrates' own language in the Platonic Apology. There he emphatically proclaims that, although his present accusers were respectable men, it was neither their enmity nor their eloquence that he should now chiefly fear; but the accumulated force of antipathy, the many important personal enemies, each with sympathetic sympathizers, the long-standing and indisputable slurs leveled against him during his career as an interrogator.
Indeed, Socrates' mission, as he himself describes it, was bound to prove extremely unpopular and repugnant. Convincing a man that he really is profoundly ignorant of things he thought he knew and never thought to question or even study, in the sense that he cannot answer a few pertinent questions without falling into glaring contradictions to involve an operation that is too healthy and often necessary for their future improvement; but a painful surgical operation, in which, in fact, the pain felt is sometimes one of the almost indispensable conditions for future beneficial results. It is something few men can bear without instantly hating the operator; though doubtless this hatred would not only disappear, but would be exchanged for esteem and admiration if they were retained until the full effects of the operation were developed. But we know from Xenophon's explicit testimony that many of those who experienced that first sharp stroke of his dialectic never approached him again: he ignored them as stragglers, but their voices counted no less in the hostile chorus. What made this choir most impressive was the high quality and position of its leaders. For Socrates himself tells us, that the men whom he chiefly and expressly went to for questioning were the men famous as statesmen, rhetoricians, poets, or craftsmen; those who are both most sensitive to such humiliation and most able to make their enmity effective.
When we reflect on this large body of antipathies, so frightful in number and in their components, we cannot help marveling that Socrates could have taken so long in the market to aggravate them, and that the case against Melitos could have been delayed for a while. . While. . See you soon; since it was as true as later, and since the sensitivity of the people to accusations of irreligion was a well-known fact. The truth is that history only presents us with a man who one day dedicated his life to fulfilling this duty.list, or interrogation missionary, then there was but one city, at least in the ancient world, where he would be permitted to pursue them safely and with impunity for twenty-five years; and that city was Athens. I pointed out in an earlier volume the respect for individual difference in opinion, taste, and behavior toward each other that characterized the Athenian population and that Pericles emphasized as part of his eulogy. It was this established liberality of democratic sentiment in Athens which prevented Socrates' noble eccentricity from being so long disturbed by the numerous enemies he provoked: at Sparta, at Thebes, at Argos, Miletus, or Syracuse; his impeccable life would not have been a sufficient shield, and his irresistible dialectical power would have silenced him long before. Intolerance is the natural weed of the human breast, though its growth or development may be counteracted by liberalizing causes; Of these, the most powerful in Athens was the democratic constitution as it operated there, combined with a pervasive intellectual and aesthetic sensibility and a lively delight in discourse. Freedom of speech was ranked among the first privileges of popular opinion; Everyone was used to constantly hearing opposing opinions and believing that others had the same right to an opinion as he did. And though the people did not normally extend this tolerance to religious matters, established habit in regard to other matters greatly influenced their practice, and rendered them still more averse to any positive severity towards avowed dissenters from established religious belief. It is true that in Athens there was greater intellectual excitement and greater freedom of thought and expression than in any other city in Greece. Socrates' long endurance exemplifies this general fact, while his trial and execution speak little against him, as will shortly be shown.
It must have been special circumstances, about which we know little, which persuaded his accusers to bring forward their charges at the time, despite Socrates' advanced age.
First, Anytus, one of Socrates' accusers, seems to have been angry with him for private reasons. Anytus's son expressed an interest in the conversation, and Socrates, noting the youth's spiritual impulses and promises, endeavored to dissuade his father from training him in his own trade as a leather merchant. In this general way, much of the antipathy against Socrates was aroused, as he himself tells us in the Platonic Apology. The youth were those to whom he principally addressed, and who, enjoying his conversation very much, often brought home new ideas that displeased their parents; hence the general charge against Socrates of corrupting the youth. Now this circumstance had lately occurred in the peculiar case of Anytus, a wealthy merchant, a man prominent in politics, and of special influence in the city now, as he had been one of Thrasybulos' chief collaborators in the expulsion of the Thirty. , manifest a vigorous and meritorious patriotism. He, like Thrasybulus and many others, suffered a great loss of fortune. during oligarchic rule; which perhaps made him even more energetic when he demanded that his son negotiate zealously to restore the family fortune. Furthermore, he seems to have been an enemy of all doctrine beyond the narrowest practical application, hating both Socrates and the Sophists.
Though we can point to a recent incident that drove one of the city's most promising politicians into particular despair. Socrates, another circumstance that depressed him was his former association with the late Critias and Alcibiades. Of these two men, the latter, though he had some great admirers, was generally hated; the more for his private insolence and monstrosity than for his public betrayal as an exile. But the name of Kritias was hated more than any other man in Athenian history, and deservedly hated as the chief director of the countless looting and atrocities committed by the Thirty.
The accusers confirmed that Socrates had created Critias and Alcibiades, and apparently the general public believed this and then. That both, in their youth, were among those who spoke with him is an undeniable fact; to what extent or how long the conversation was carried on, we cannot unequivocally establish. Xenophon claims that the two frequented his company as young men to get an argument from him that might serve his political ambitions; that he suppressed his violent and licentious tendencies while they continued to come to him; that both showed him a respectful obedience which did not seem to be in keeping with their natural temperaments; but who soon gave up, weary of such reticence, having acquired all that they thought proper to their particular conquest. Plato's writings, on the other hand, impress us with the idea that his association with Socrates must have been more continuous and intimate; for both are made to take a keen interest in the Platonic dialogues, while Socrates' bond with Alcibiades is shown to be stronger than he ever felt for any other man; an achievement not difficult to explain, since the latter, despite his irrepressible inclinations, in his youth was distinguished not less by skill and urgency than by beauty; and how youthful beauty fired the imagination of the Greeks, especially Socrates, more than the charms of the opposite sex. From the year 420 BC. It seems unlikely that he saw much of Socrates, and after 415 BC, when Alcibiades began his activity as a political leader. the fact is impossible; since he went into permanent exile that year, except for three or four months in 407.B.C. Thus, at the time of Socrates' trial, at least his association with Alcibiades must have been a distant fact. If we respect criticism, we care less; and as he was a relative at his trial, and himself a learned and learned man, his association with Socrates may have lasted longer; at least that statement got a color. Though the conjecture that some of the vices of Critias or Alcibiades was encouraged or even condoned by Socrates can only have arisen in prejudiced or ill-informed minds, it is certain that such a conjecture was entertained; and that after the atrocities of the Thirty placed him before the public in a different position. Anytus, already outraged by his son, would be doubly outraged by him as Critias's supposed guardian.
Of Melito, the first, if not the most important, accuser, we only know that he was a poet; from Lykon that he was a rhetorician. These two classes had been alienated by the dialectic of interrogation to which Socrates had subjected many of them. They were the last men to patiently bear such exposure, and their animosity, rarely received unanimously as a class, was truly impressive when it affected a single individual.
We know nothing of the speeches of the two accusers before the Dicastery, except what can be deduced from Xenophon's commentaries and the Defense of Plato. Of the three charges, the second was the easiest for her to support for plausible reasons. That Socrates was a religious innovator would be proved by the special divine sign that he was accustomed to speaking freely and openly, visiting no one but himself. Hence, in the Platonic defense, he never answers this second charge. He questions Melitus before the dicastery, and the latter presents himself in reply as wanting to accuse Socrates of not believing in the gods at all; Socrates responds to this implicit disbelief with a resounding no. Nothing in his behavior, however, could be adduced for the first charge, the charge of general disbelief in the recognized gods of the city; for he was in his just cult like the other citizens, and even more so than others, if Xenophon be right, with similar efforts by Eupolis and others, perhaps less ingenious, was in progress; strong proof that these comedians were not powerless detractors. Sócrates shows greater concern for the effect of the old impressions than for the speeches that have just been pronounced against him: but these last speeches, presumably, would tell the story, refreshing the feelings of the past and reviving the Aristophanic image of Socrates as a speculator of the Physics. as well as a masterful rhetoric of appeals that make the worst seem the best. Socrates, in the Platonic defense, appeals to the number of people who heard his speech, if any of them ever heard him say a word on the subject of physical studies; while Xenophon goes further and describes him as positively rejecting her for impiety.
Since there were three different accusers who spoke against Socrates, we can reasonably assume that they would agree beforehand on the issues each should press; Meletus dealt with religion, while Anytus and Lykon dealt with the political reasons for the attack. In the Platonic Apology, Socrates expresses himself strongly about Melitus's accusations, publicly questions him before the dichasts, and criticizes his responses: he makes little reference to Anytus, or to anything else beyond what is formally contained in the Accusation; and he treats the last charge, the charge of juvenile corruption, in connection with the first as if the alleged corruption consisted in irreligious teaching. But Xenophon points out that, in enforcing this allegation of pernicious doctrine, the prosecutors addressed other issues markedly different from Socrates' religious teachings, and denounced him for teaching them illegality and disrespect, both towards parents and country. We find in Xenophon accusatory motives similar to those of the "Clouds"; similar also to those which modern authors commonly bring forward against the Sophists.
Socrates, Anytus and the other accusers said, taught the youth to disregard the existing political constitution, pointing out that the Athenian practice of appointing archons by lot was absurd, and that no sane man would ever appoint a pilot or select a carpenter in this way. . though the evil of low grades was less in these cases than among the Archons. Such teaching, it was insisted, destroyed in the minds of hearers respect for the law and the Constitution, making them violent and licentious. As examples of his functioning, his two disciples, Kritias and Alcibiades, both educated at his school; one, the most violent and predatory of the last 30 oligarchs; the other, a disgrace to democracy, for its scandalous insolence and licentiousness; both authors of ruinous calamities to the city.
In addition, the young man learned from him the presumption of his own superior wisdom and the habit of insulting his parents, as well as despising his other relatives. Socrates told them that it was urged that even their parents could be imprisoned by law in cases of insanity; and that when a man needed a service, those whom he should trust were not his kinsmen as such, but the persons best suited to perform it; so when he was sick he had to consult a surgeon; if you are involved in litigation, those most familiar with such a situation. Even among friends, the mere feeling of well-being and affection did little good; what was important was that they acquire the capacity to serve one another. No one was worthy of respect except the man who knew what was right and could explain it to others: which meant, the accuser insisted, that Socrates was not only the wisest man, but the only one capable of doing so. make students wise; other advisors are worthless compared to him.
It was also said that he was in the habit of quoting the worst passages of excellent poets and corrupting them with the malicious purpose of corrupting the tendencies of youth, instilling in them criminal and despotic tendencies. Then he quoted a phrase from Hesiod: “No work is shameful; but laziness is shameful”, which means that an unscrupulous man could do any kind of work, whatever it may be, for profit. Next, Socrates was particularly fond of quoting those lines of Homer in the second book of the Iliad, which describes Odysseus bringing back the Greeks, who had just dispersed from the public agora in accordance with Agamemnon's warning, and hurried to their ships. Odysseus caresses and flatters the chiefs while scolding and even beating the common men; though they both did the same thing, and were guilty of the same fault; whether it was a mistake to follow what the Commander-in-Chief himself had just suggested. Socrates interpreted this passage, the accuser asserted, as if Homer were praising the flogging of the poor and common people.
Nothing could be easier for a prosecutor than to find material to indict Socrates through partial quotations from his constant speeches, given without the context or accompanying explanations; for a daring invention where even this partial foundation was lacking; sometimes detecting real errors, as no man who talks constantly, especially improvising, can always speak correctly. Few professors would escape being convicted against him based on evidence like this. Xenophon takes note of the accusations, comments on them all, denies some and explains others. As for the passages from Hesiod and Homer, he claims that Socrates drew conclusions quite contrary to those asserted; the latter seem, in fact, quite irrational, invented to evoke the deep-rooted democratic sentiment of the Athenians after the prosecutor made a point of associating Socrates with Critias and Alcibiades. That Socrates wrongly neglected filial duties or domestic affections is equally highly improbable. We may much more reasonably believe Xenophon's assertion that he warned the hearer to become as wise and useful as possible; so that when he wanted to gain the approval of his father, brother, or friend, he could not stand by and rely on the mere fact of the relationship, but could gain my feeling by doing them a positive good. Telling a young person that simply feeling good would be utterly insufficient unless he was willing and competent to put it into practice is a lesson few parents would want to discourage. Not even a generous parent would consider it a crime against the teachings of Socrates to make his son outsmart him, which he probably would. Restricting a young person's field of study because it might make him think he's smarter than his father is just one of a thousand ways the ignorance versus knowledge claim was made then and sometimes still is.
However, it cannot be denied that these attacks by Anytus touch on the vulnerable side of the Socratic theory of general ethics, which held that virtue depended on knowledge. I have already indicated that this is true, but not the whole truth; a certain state of inclinations and inclinations is no less indispensable as a condition of virtue than a certain state of intelligence. Thus an enemy pretended to make it appear that Socrates, in establishing part of the truth as a whole, was denying or belittling all that remained. But while this would not be a wholly unfounded criticism of his general theory, it would not apply against his practical precepts or teachings, as we find in Xenophon; for these, as I have remarked, go far beyond his general theory, and make the cultivation of habits and inclinations no less arduous than the acquisition of knowledge.
Xenophon does not contest the accusations allegedly voiced by Socrates against the choice of archons by lot in Athens. The accuser urged that by such censures Socrates was inciting the youth to flout the existing constitution and to become illegal and violent in their conduct. This is exactly the same pretext, which tends to bring the government to hatred and contempt, under which charges of public defamation were presented against writers in previous days in England, and under which they are still abundantly accused in France under the first President. . There can hardly be a more serious political maneuver than mistaking the disapproving critic for a cabal and imposing silence on dissenting minorities. There was never a case where such an assumption was more colorless than in Socrates, who always appealed to men's reason and very little to their feelings; so little, in fact, that modern authors make a point of coldness against it; who never failed to instill strict observance of the law, and set himself an example of such observance. Whatever his attitude toward democracy, he always obeyed the democratic government, with no pretext to accuse him of participating in oligarchic schemes. It was the Thirty who, for the first time in his long life, completely banned his teaching and almost took his life; while his close friend Chaerephon was in fact in exile with the Democrats.
Xenophon places great emphasis on two points when he defends Socrates against his accusers. First, that his own conduct was virtuous, self-denying, and strict in obedience to the law. He then accustomed his listeners to hearing nothing more than appeals to their reason, asking obedience only to their rational beliefs. That such a man, with such arrogance to his credit, should be tried and found guilty of seducing young women - the vaguest of imaginable charges - is a serious and sad fact in the history of mankind. But when we see with what easy evidence modern authors are ready to concede the same charge against the Sophists, we have no right to be surprised that the Athenians, in addressing them, do not do so for the calm reason to which Socrates appealed, but For all his antipathies - religious, political, public and private - they resented treating him as a type and forerunner of Critias and Alcibiades.
After all, the despair and resulting guilty verdict was not the fault of the dikast alone, nor was it caused solely by his accusers and his many private enemies. Such a judgment would not have taken place except for what we must call Socrates' own assent and assent. This is one of the most important facts of the case, both in regard to himself and the Athenians.
We learn from his own testimony in the Platonic Defense that the guilty verdict was passed by a majority of five or six, in the midst of a body as numerous as an Athenian dicastery; probably five hundred and fifty-seven in all, if a confused statement by Diogenes Laertius can be trusted. Now, whoever reads this defense and considers it in the context of the circumstances of the case and the sentiments of the Dicasteries, will see that its tenor is such that it must have gathered a number of votes much greater than six against it. And we are informed by Xenophon's unequivocal testimony that Socrates approached his trial with the feelings of one who hardly wants to be acquitted. He didn't think to prepare his defense; and when his friend Hermogenes upbraided him with the grave consequences of such an omission, he replied, first, that the just and innocent life which had ended was the best of all defensive preparations; after it started once; to consider what would be appropriate for him to say, the divine sigh intervened to stop him from continuing. He went on to say that it was no wonder the gods thought it was better to die now than to live any longer. Until then he had lived in complete contentment, with a sense of progressive moral improvement, and with the marked and uninterrupted esteem of his friends. If his life were prolonged, old age would soon overtake him, he would lose part of his sight, hearing, or intelligence; and a life of so diminished efficiency and dignity would be intolerable to him. Whereas, if he were now convicted, he would be unjustly condemned, which would be a great disgrace to his judges, but none to him; nay, it would bring him still more sympathy and admiration, and a quicker recognition of all that he had been a just man and an excellent teacher.
These words, pronounced before his trial, convey a state of faith that explains the content of the defense and constituted an essential condition for the final result. They show that Socrates not only cared little about being acquitted, but even thought that the coming trial had been ordained by the gods as the end of his life, and that there were good reasons why he considered that end the best for him. . Nor is it surprising that he should have this opinion, when we remember the utter superiority in him of a strong inner conscience and intelligent reflection, built on an originally fearless temper and silencing what Plato had "the child" in us that trembles in death. . ; his great love of colloquial influence and his inability to live without it; his advanced age, now seventy, which makes it impossible for this influence to last much longer, and the opportunity for him, now rising above common men in similar circumstances, to read and transcend an impressive lesson, a reputation even greater than that one. he had acquired until then. In this frame of mind, Socrates went to his trial and undertook his reckless defense, the gist of which we now read in Plato's Apology. His equally lofty and well-balanced calculations were fully realized. If he had been acquitted after such a defence, it would not only have been a victory over his personal enemies, but a sanction of the people and the People's Department for his doctrine, which had actually been enforced by Anytus, in his accusatory. argument about acquittal in general, even before hearing the defence: while his condemnation, and the feelings with which he met it, cast double and triple luster over his whole life and character.
Preceded by this exposition of Socrates' feelings, the Platonic defense becomes not only sublime and impressive, but also the manifestation of a rational and consistent intention. It actually contains a defense of himself against two of the three charges in the indictment; against the charge of not believing in the recognized gods of Athens and of corrupting the youth; he says little or nothing of the second of the three, in which he is accused of religious innovations. But it doesn't sound like someone's speech at the trial, the written indictment ending with "penalty, death" hanging before him in open court. Rather, it is a powerful lesson for the listener, embodied in the open outpouring of fearless, confident awareness. It is carried out from the beginning because the law requires it; with a faint desire, and not even an unreserved desire, but without any hope of success. Socrates responds first to the existing antipathies against him from without, arising from the number of enemies his interrogation of Elenchus had aroused against him, and from those false reports which the Aristophanic "clouds" did so much to spread. In explaining the rise of these antipathies, he inculcates in the dicates the divine mission under which he acted, not without considerable doubt whether they will believe that he meant this; and he gives this interesting account of his intellectual campaign against "the vanity of knowledge without reality" of which I have already spoken. He then turns to the prosecution, questions Melitus in open court and dissects his responses. Having rejected the charge of irreligion, he returns once more to the imperative mandate of the gods, under which he acts "to devote his life to the pursuit of wisdom, and to prove himself and others"; an order that, if he disobeyed, he would rightfully face the charge of irreligion; and he plainly tells the Dichasts that, even if they acquit him now, he cannot and will not slacken the course he has taken. He believes that the mission entrusted to him is one of the greatest blessings the gods bestowed on Athena. He disapproves of those murmurs of surprise or anger which his speech has apparently evoked on more than one occasion, if not from him and the dictates who will benefit from hearing him and who will do themselves and their city much more harm than he will. . , if they should pronounce sentence now. He would not resist for his own sake, but for the sake of the Athenians, that they might not sin against God's merciful blessing in condemning him; they wouldn't easily find another one if they had to kill him. Although his mission had spurred him to tireless activity in individual conversations, the divine sign always forbade him to take an active part in public events; on the two extraordinary occasions on which he appeared publicly - once under democracy, once under oligarchy - he showed the same determination as now; let no terror prevent him from that path which he believed to be just. The youths were delighted and relieved to hear his interrogation; no evidence was adduced to prove to the prosecution that he had corrupted them; nor of those who, having been young enjoying their entertainment, were now old; another of your relatives; at the same time he could bear ample testimony to the improving effect of his society on the kindred of those who benefited from it. “No man (says he) knows what death is; but people fear it as if they knew perfectly well that it is the greatest of all evils, that it is nothing but the worst case of all ignorance, the illusion of knowing what one really does not know. For my part, that is exactly what makes me different from most other men, if there is one thing in which I am smarter than them; Knowing nothing of Hades, I do not claim to know anything; but I know this disobedience to a person better than I do, whether God or man; it is an evil and a shame; nor will I ever embrace evil to escape evil which, for all I know, could be good. Perhaps you are indignant at the firm tone of my defense; You might expect me to behave like most others in trials less dangerous than mine; that I must cry and beg and plead for my life and make my children and family do the same. I have relatives like other men and three children; but none of them will appear before you for that purpose. Not from insolent inclinations on my part, or any desire to discredit him, but because I think such conduct belittles the reputation I enjoy; because I have a reputation of superiority among you, deserved or undeserved, as it may be. It is a pity for Athena that her esteemed men, as they are wont to do, stoop to such vile and cowardly appeals; and you dikasts, instead of being forced to forgive them, should condemn them for dishonoring the city. My reputation aside, I too would be a guilty man if I tried to impress him with appeals. My duty is to instruct and persuade you if I can; but you have sworn to follow your convictions by judging the laws and not to bend the laws to your partisanship; and it is your duty to do so. Far be it from me to accustom him to perjury; Far be it from you to develop such a habit. Therefore, do not ask me for any dishonorable procedure against me, nor any criminal and impious action against you, especially at the moment when I myself am refuting a charge of impiety brought by Melitus. I leave it up to you and God to decide what's best for me and you.
No one reading Socrates' Platonic Apology will wish he had defended himself otherwise. But it is the speech of someone who consciously renounces the immediate objective of a defense, the persuasion of his judges; who speaks to posterity without regard to his own life: "sola, cum posteritatis, et abruptis vitae blandimentis". The effect on the dicasteries was exactly what Socrates previously expected and later heard in the guilty verdict without surprise or confusion. His only surprise was the extreme smallness of the majority that gave this verdict. And that's the real reason to be surprised. Never before had the Athenian dicasteries heard such a speech addressed to them. Although Socrates was undoubtedly known to all as a highly capable and highly eccentric man, they differed in his intentions and character; some looked at him with outright hostility, others with respectful admiration, and an even greater number with simple admiration for his abilities, without a crucial feeling of revulsion or appreciation.
But out of all three of these categories, scarcely spared even by its admirers, the speech would ring like a thorn, never losing its way to the angry feelings in the judge's chest, whether the judges in session were one, few, or many. . an insulting thorn to the court. Athenian dicasteries used to be treated with deference, often with servility: now one heard sermons from a philosopher who presented himself as a fearless and invulnerable superior, above his power but awaiting his judgment; one who claimed a divine mission, which many of them probably considered a sham, and who proclaimed himself the inspired uprooter of pride with no reality of knowledge, whose purpose many would not understand and some would not like. His behavior seems to many to betray an insolence, not without analogy with Alcibiades or Critias, with whom his accuser had compared him. I have already remarked in connection with his trial that, given the number of personal enemies he made, it is not surprising that he was tried, but rather that it was so late in his life. Now I comment in relation to the verdict that, given his speech before the Dicastery, we cannot be surprised that he was found guilty, only that such a verdict was passed by a small majority of five or six.
That Socrates' condemnation was clearly provoked by the tone and tenor of his defense is Xenophon's explicit testimony. “Other defendants (he said) defended themselves by conciliating or flattering the favor of the dictates, or by alleging contrary to the law, and thus obtained acquittal. But Socrates would not use any of this customary practice of the dicastery against the law. Though he could easily have been dismissed by the dictates, he would rather obey the law and die than save his life by harming them if he had done such a thing even mildly. Now, probably no one in Athens but Socrates would have interpreted the laws as requiring the tone of speech he adopted; He himself would not have so interpreted them if he had been twenty years younger, viewing himself with less acquired dignity and more years of possible usefulness. Without humbling himself with flatteries or unseemly entreaties, he would have avoided lecturing them as master and superior, or ostensibly asserting, for purposes they could scarcely understand, a divine mission or independence of judgment which they might take as a challenge. The rhetorician Lysias is said to have sent him a composed speech in his defense, which he would not use because he did not consider it suitable to his dignity. But a man like Lysias would hardly compose, which would lessen the dignity of even the most exalted patron, though he too was concerned about the result; There is also no doubt that if Socrates had delivered it - or even a much less skilful speech if it had been harmless - he would have been acquitted. Indeed, Quintilian expresses his satisfaction that Socrates preserved that supreme dignity that revealed the rarest and most sublime of his qualities, while at the same time renouncing any possibility of absolution. Few people will disagree with this criticism: but if we look at the verdict, as we should from the point of view of the dichasts, justice will oblige us to admit that Socrates brought it upon himself on purpose.
If the guilty verdict was thus passed on Socrates by his own consent and cooperation, much more the same remark may be made in regard to the sentence of death which followed. At the Athens trial, the sentence imposed was determined by a separate di-caste vote following the guilty verdict. After the prosecutor had passed the sentence he thought fit, the defendant, in his turn, assigned a lighter sentence for himself; and between these two the di-castes were invited to make their choice, without a third suggestion being allowed. The prudence of a defendant has always led him to propose, even against himself, a measure of punishment which the dicastery could accept in lieu of the severer punishment demanded by his opponent.
Now, in his indictment and speech against Socrates, Melitus called for the sentence of death to be imposed. It fell to Socrates to make his own counter-proposal, and the tiny majority with which the verdict was delivered provided sufficient proof of this: the Dicasteries were by no means inclined to sanction extreme punishment against him. They no doubt expected, in accordance with the uniform practice in the Athenian courts, that he would propose a lesser sentence; Fine, imprisonment, banishment, deprivation of rights, etc. And if he had simply done that, the proposal probably would have been accepted. But Socrates' language was even more strained after the trial than before; and his determination to defend his own point of view, disdaining the slightest clemency or concession, only the most emphatic ones. “What counteroffer shall I make you (said he) in lieu of Melitus's punishment? Shall I tell you the treatment I think I deserve at your hands? In that case, my suggestion would be that I be rewarded with a life at public expense in the Prytaneus; because that's what I really deserve as a public benefactor; One who neglected all thoughts of his own affairs and embraced voluntary poverty to look out for his best interests and bring them closer individually to the dire need of spiritual and moral improvement. I certainly cannot admit that I deserve all the harm from you; Nor would it be prudent on my part to propose, instead of death, which perhaps is not an evil, but a good, exile or imprisonment, which I know to be certain and considerable evils. In fact, it might suggest a cash payment penalty; for payment would not be bad. But I am poor, and have no money: all I could raise is a mina: and therefore I propose to you a fine of a mina, as a punishment for me. Plato and my other intimate friends demand that I increase this sum to thirty minas; and they agree to pay for me. Fine of thirty minas; hence the punishment I submit to your verdict.
Staying in the Prytaneus at public expense was one of the highest honors bestowed by the citizens of Athens; a clear sign of public appreciation. Let Socrates, then, declare himself worthy of such an honor, and speak of accepting it instead of punishment, before the dicates who have just condemned him guilty were received by them as nothing less than a deliberate insult; a disrespect to the judicial authority which they had to prove to a rebellious and haughty citizen, who could not commit with impunity. The people who most needed to hear his language were undoubtedly Plato, Krito and the other friends who surrounded him; who, though they fully sympathized with him, knew full well that he had ensured the success of Melitus' proposal, and would regret that he wasted his life in what they considered undesirable and unnecessary self-exaltation. If he, with little or no preamble, had proposed the alternative penalty of thirty minas with which he concluded this part of his speech, everything leads to believe that the majority of the dicasteries would have voted in favour.
The death penalty was imposed on him, why most of us don't know. But Socrates did not change his tune or repent of the language with which he had supported the intention of his accusers. On the contrary, he told Dikasten in a short speech before leaving for prison that he was satisfied with his own behavior and the result. The divine sign, he said, which he used to restrain him in deed and word, often on very small occasions, had not been shown him once during the day, nor at his first coming, nor at any time in his whole life. speech. The tacit assent of that infallible monitor convinced him not only that he had spoken correctly, but that the verdict rendered was not really bad for him; that dying again was the best thing that could have happened to him. Either death was like a deep, eternal, dreamless sleep, which he thought was not a loss but a gain in the present life; or, if the popular myths were true, death would lead him to a second life in Hades, where he would meet all the heroes of the Trojan War, and of the past generally, to join them in mutual bargaining. -examination and debate about ethical progress and perfection.
There is no doubt that Socrates' phrase did appear about this and also to his friends after the fact, but certainly not at the moment when they wanted to lose it. He took up his line of defense judiciously and with full knowledge of the outcome. It offered him the most suitable opportunity to impressively manifest both his personal superiority over human fears and weaknesses and the dignity of what he believed to be his divine mission. He took it in all its majesty and splendor, like a tropical sunset, at a time when senile decay may seem imminent. He considered his defense and conduct at trial the most powerful lesson he could read to the youth of Athens; probably more emphatic than the sum total of those lessons that the rest of your life would be enough to teach if you framed your defenses differently. This anticipation of the effect of the final scene of his life, which seals all his earlier lines, is manifested in excerpts from his last words to the Dichasts, in which he tells them that they will not get rid of him by killing him. . of the intrusiveness of the interrogation of elenchus; that many young people, more restless and interfering than he, already had within them that impulse which they would now use; her superiority had held her back until now. Socrates was convinced, then, that his resignation would be the signal for numerous apostles to continue with increasing energy that process of questioning and encouragement to which he had devoted his life and which, no doubt, was dearer and more sacred to him than his own life. . Nothing could be more effective than your haughty behavior in your judgment, to kindle the enthusiasm of young people so predisposed; and the loss of life was made up for by the missionary successors he hoped to leave behind.
Under normal circumstances, Socrates would have drunk the cup of hemlock the day after his prison trial. But it so happened that the day of his condemnation was immediately after the day on which the sacred vessel sailed on its annual ceremonial pilgrimage from Athens to Delos for the feast of Apollo. Until that ship returned to Athens, it was considered profane to kill someone with public violence. Consequently, Socrates remained in prison - and it pains us to read, with leg chains - for a total of thirty days during the period this ship was absent. His friends and colleagues had free access to him and spent most of their time with him in prison; and Krito even cooked up a plan to allow him to escape by bribing the jailer. This plan was prevented from taking effect only by Socrates' firm refusal to engage in any activity that infringed on rights; a resolution which, given the line he had taken in his defence, we should naturally expect. He spent his days in prison in conversations on ethical and human topics which had been the delight and preoccupation of his former life: until the last of these days he continued his conversation with Simmias, Cebes and Phaedo on the immortality of the soul, in the Platonic Dialogue called " Phaedon". The main themes and lessons of this conversation are more Platonic than Socratic. But the picture the dialogue paints of Socrates' mood and mood in the last hours of his life is one of undying beauty and interest, displaying his serene, even playful composure amidst the uncontrollable emotions of the friends around him. . —the genuine and unforced conviction, which governs both his words and his deeds, of what he had proclaimed before the dichasts, that the sentence of death was no disgrace to him—and the unswerving maintenance of this earnest interest in the betterment of man and the Society, which had been his main motive and active concern for so many years. Final scene details are rendered with meticulous precision, right down to the point of resolution; and it is comforting to note that the cup of hemlock, the drug used in public order executions in Athens, took effect by steps far more painless than any natural death that could befall him. Those who have read the above noted about Socrates' strong religious beliefs will not be surprised to hear that his last words, addressed to Krito just before he passed into an unconscious state, were: "Krito, we owe you a rooster for Aesculapius .: pay the debt and never abstain".
Thus died the "parens philosophiae", the first ethical philosophers; a man who opened up new subjects for science, equally plentiful and valuable; and a memorable new method not less for its originality and effectiveness than for the deep philosophical foundation on which it rests. Although Greece has produced great poets, orators, speculative philosophers, historians, etc., other countries that benefited from Greek literature from the beginning almost equaled it in all these lines and surpassed it in some. But where should we look for a parallel with Socrates, inside or outside the Greek world? The interrogation of Elenchus, which he not only first blotted out, but handled with such incomparable effect, and for such noble purposes, has remained mute since their last conversation in prison; for his great successor, Plato, was also a writer and lecturer, not a colloquial dialectician. No man was ever found strong enough to draw his bow; much less safe enough to use like you did. His life remains the only but very satisfying evidence of how much can be achieved through this kind of intelligent questioning; how strong an interest can be aroused; how energetic is the stimulus which can be used to awaken slumbering reason and generate new spiritual power.
Socrates was often portrayed as a preacher of morality, a position in which he probably won the general reverence that accompanies his name. This is certainly a true quality, but not the distinguishing or notable quality, nor the one by which he made a lasting impression on mankind. On the other hand, Arkesilaus and the New Academy thought, a century and later, that they were following the example of Socrates - and Cicero seems to have thought the same - in arguing against everything; and when they established such a system that against any affirmative position an equal force of negative arguments could be balanced. Now, in my opinion, this view of Socrates is not only partial, but also wrong. He did not distrust the powers of the mind so systematically as to be certain. He drew a clear, though imperfect, line of distinction between the knowable and the unknowable. When it came to physics, he was more than a skeptic; he thought man could know nothing; the gods did not intend for man to receive such information, so they treated things as beyond his perception for all but the simplest phenomena of everyday use; moreover, man not only could not obtain such information, but he should not seek it out. But regarding the problems that affect man and society, Socrates' views are completely inverted. This was the territory expressly designated by the gods not only for human practice, but also for human study and acquisition of knowledge; a field in which, with this view, they treated phenomena according to principles of a constant and observable sequence, so that any man who made the necessary effort could discern them. No, Socrates went a step further; and this step forward is the basic belief upon which all his missionary efforts rest. He thought that every human being not only could know these things, but ought to know them; that he couldn't act well unless he knew her; and that it was his imperative duty to learn them as he would learn a trade; otherwise he was no better than a slave who could not be trusted as a free and responsible being. Socrates was convinced that no one could behave as a just, moderate, courageous, pious and patriotic agent, unless he had learned to know correctly what justice, temperance, courage, piety, patriotism, etc., really are. . He was obsessed with the truly Baconian idea that the power of consistent moral action depended on and was limited by a rational understanding of moral means and ends. But as he surveyed the spirits around him, he noticed that few, if any, had such an understanding, or had ever studied to acquire it; but, at the same time, all felt confidently in possession of it, and acted confidently in that belief. It was here, then, that Socrates discovered that the first legwork he had to overcome was that universal "realityless knowledge formation" against which he so decisively declared war; and that too, though with another choice of words and in relation to other themes, on which Bacon no less emphatically declares war two thousand years later: "Opinio copias inter causa inopiae est." Socrates discovered that those ideas about human and social affairs on which every human being relied and acted were nothing more than the spontaneous products of the "intellectus sibi permitus", the intellect left to its own devices, without guidance or only blind guidance. Sympathies, antipathies, authority or silent assimilation. They were products assembled, to use Bacon's language, out of a great deal of faith and chance, and the primitive stimuli of childhood, not only without care or study, but also without any awareness of the process and without further revision. On this basis the Sophists, or professed teachers, sought to erect a superstructure of virtue and skill for the active life; but to Socrates such an attempt seemed hopeless and contradictory, no less impractical as Bacon explained in his time, to bring the tree of knowledge to majesty and fruition without first eliminating the fundamental vices which remained undisturbed and undisturbed. Poisonous influence on your tree. source. Socrates began to work in the Baconian style; He reduced his interrogation process to those gross, self-generated, incoherent generalizations which people's minds considered competent and guiding knowledge as the first condition for any further improvement. But he, no less than Bacon, makes this analysis not with a view to a negative end, but as a first step to gain later; as a preliminary cleaning, essential for future positive results. In the physical sciences to which Bacon's attention was chiefly directed, such a result could not be reached without improved experimental investigation, bringing to light new and hitherto unknown facts; but in the questions discussed by Socrates, the elementary data of inquiry were all within the hearer's experience, and needed only to attract his attention, both affirmatively and negatively, together with the appropriate ethical and political ending; so as to stimulate in him the necessary rational effort to recombine them according to consistent principles.
Thus, when the New Academy philosophers saw Socrates as a skeptic or advocate of systematic denial, they misinterpreted his character and confused the first step of his process - what Plato, Bacon and Herschel call the purification of the intellect - with the aim of ending The Elenchos, as used by Socrates, was animated by the truest spirit of positive science and constituted an indispensable precursor to its realization.
There are two points, and two points only, in matters affecting man and society about which Socrates is skeptical; or rather, what he denies; and upon the denial of which the whole method and purpose of it depends. First, it denies that people can know what they have not invested in conscious effort, deliberate pain, or systematic study in learning. So he denies that people can practice what they don't know; that they can be just or moderate or generally virtuous without knowing what justice or temperance or virtue is. Indeed, instilling in his listeners his own negative beliefs about these two points is his first aim and the main aim of his many dialectical maneuvers. But though Socrates is negative in his means, he is strictly positive in his ends; his attack is carried out only with a view to a positive result; to shame them of the illusion of knowledge, and to encourage and equip them for the acquisition of real, safe, complete and self-explanatory knowledge as a condition and guarantee of virtuous practice. In fact, Socrates was the opposite of a skeptic; no man ever looked at life with a more positive and practical eye; no man ever pursued his goal with a clearer sense of the path he trod; No man has similarly combined the captivating enthusiasm of a missionary with the wit, originality, inventive wit and comprehensive understanding of a philosopher.
His method still survives, as far as such a method can survive, in some of Plato's dialogues. It is a process of eternal value and universal application. That purification of the intellect which Bacon described as essential to rational or scientific progress, the Socratic Elenchus offers the only known means of achieving it, at least in part. As little used as this instrument has been since the death of its inventor, its necessity and usefulness have not and never will. There are few men whose minds are not more or less in the state of pseudo-knowledge against which Socrates was at war: there is no man whose ideas have not previously been put together by spontaneous, unexamined, unconscious, and unconfirmed associations, based on forgotten details. . mixes up inequalities or inconsistencies, and leaves in his mind old and familiar phrases and oracular propositions of which he was never aware: there is no man who, if destined for energetic and profitable scientific endeavors, has not found in him a necessary branch of self-education to break down, unravel , analyze and reconstruct these old mental connections; and that he was not driven to it by his own weak and lonely efforts, as the colloquial giant Elenchus is no longer on the market to help and encourage him.
Hearing that any man, especially one so famous, should have been condemned to death on charges of heresy and supposed youthful depravity fills me today with a sense of outraged condemnation whose intensity I cannot bear to shake off. The fact will be registered forever as one among the thousand crimes of religious and political intolerance. But as each item in this catalog has its own particular character, tomb or light, we must consider where on the scale Socrates' condemnation falls and what conclusions it warrants as to the character of the Athenians. If we now examine the circumstances of the case, we find them all extenuating; and in fact so powerful as to reduce such conclusions to the minimum compatible with the general class to which the incident belongs.
First, the prevailing sentiment now is based on the belief that such things as heresy and the heretical teachings of youth are not suitable for judicial notice. Such a belief is also new in the modern world; and in the 5th century BC. it was unknown. Socrates himself would not have agreed; and all Greek governments, both oligarchic and democratic, have recognized the contrary. Plato's testimony is crucial at this point. If we examine the two positive communities he builds in De Republica and De Legibus, we will see that nothing is more important to him than establishing an irresistible orthodoxy of doctrine, opinion, and education. A tortuous and frank teacher, as Socrates was in Athens, should not have followed his vocation for a week in the Platonic Republic. Plato would not sentence him to death; but he would silence him and, if necessary, dismiss him. Indeed, this is the logical conclusion if the state is to determine what Orthodoxy and orthodox teaching is and suppress what contradicts its own views. Now all the Greek states, including Athens, upheld this principle of interference against the dissenting master. But in Athens, once it was recognized in principle, its application was thwarted by reluctant forces, which in other places are not thwarted by the democratic constitution with its freedom of expression and its desire to speak, by the most active source of the individual intellect and by the tolerance. , which exists greater than anywhere else, the peculiarities of every human being of all kinds. In any other government in Greece, as well as in the Platonic Republic, Socrates would have been arrested quickly in his career, even if he had not been severely punished; in Athens he was allowed to speak and teach publicly for twenty-five or thirty years, and then he was condemned as an old man. Of these two applications of the same malicious principle, surely the latter is the more moderate and less harmful.
Second, this last consideration, as a mitigating circumstance against the Athenians, becomes much stronger when we consider the number of individual enemies Socrates made in conducting his interrogation process. Here was a multitude of individuals, including personally the best and most effective men in the city, who were moved by private dislikes beyond common belief to put into practice the principle of latent bigotry of a hateful master. If, under such provocation, he was allowed to live to be seventy years old and speak in public for so many years before a true melitus appeared, this clearly attests to the effectiveness of the provisions contained among the men, who made his practice. more liberal habits than their declared principles.
Third, anyone who has read Socrates' account of the trial and defense will see that he himself contributed as much to the outcome as the three accusers put together. Not only did he refrain from doing anything that could have been shamelessly done to gain an acquittal, but he uttered positive language that was almost as Melitus himself would have tried to use. He did this intentionally, as he thought highly of himself and his own mission, and did not consider the cup of hemlock to be bad luck in his old age. It was only by such flagrant and offensive self-exaltation that he managed to pass the Dicastery's first vote, still the slim majority, for which he was found guilty; it was only by a more aggravated statement of the same kind, to the point of something approaching an insult, that prompted the second vote which pronounced the sentence of death. Now, it would be false not to consider the impact of such a movement on the heads of the dicastery. They were by no means prepared to impose the recognized principle of bigotry against him on their own initiative. But when they found that the man who had accused them of this crime was speaking to them in a tone which the dictators had never heard before, and could scarcely hear in silence, they must have been inclined to believe that all the worst conclusions of their accusers were wrong. . and they regard Socrates as a dangerous man both religiously and politically, against whom it was necessary to defend the majesty of the court and the constitution.
Enjoying this memorable incident, therefore, all the circumstances show that this principle was neither irritable nor domineering in the hearts of the Athenians, though the spiteful principle of intolerance cannot be denied; that even a large group of collateral antipathies did not easily arouse him against anyone; that the most liberal and generous dispositions which blunted their wickedness were constantly efficacious, and not easily overcome; and that the phrase should count as one of the less somber elements in an essentially somber catalogue.
Let us add that Socrates himself did not regard his own condemnation and death in old age as a disgrace, but as a propitious dispensation from the gods, who separated him just in time to escape that painful consciousness of spiritual decay which prompted Democritus to inject the poison to prepare, his friend Xenophon goes a step further, and, while protesting the verdict, extols the form of death as a theme of triumph; as the happiest, most honorable, and most merciful way in which the gods could seal a useful and exalted life.
It is stated by Diodorus, and exaggeratedly repeated by later writers, that after Socrates' death, the Athenians bitterly regretted their treatment of him, going so far as to kill his accusers without trying. I don't know on what authority that statement was made, and I don't believe anything. From the tone of Xenophon's recollections, there is every reason to believe that Socrates' recollection was still unpopular in Athens when this collection was assembled. Plato also left Athens immediately after his teacher's death, and was absent for a long series of years: indirectly, I think, it is supposed that there was no such reaction in Athenian feeling as Diodorus asserts; and the same conjecture is supported by the way in which the orator Aeschines speaks of damnation half a century later. I see no reason to suppose that the Athenian Dicastes, who doubtless felt entitled and more than entitled to condemn Socrates after his own speech, withdrew this opinion after his death.