People’s Power and Egalitarian Trends in Archaic Greece PDF

Chapter Title: “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends in Archaic Greece Chapter Author(s): Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace Book Title: Origins of Democracy in Ancient Greece Book Author(s): Kurt A. Raaflaub, Josiah Ober and Robert W. Wallace Published by: University of California Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/j.ctt1pp9pt.7 JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at https://about.jstor.org/terms University of California Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Origins of Democracy in Ancient Greece This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms Chapter 2 “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends in Archaic Greece Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace Democracy is constituted through institutions, practices, mentalities, and, eventually, ideologies. In Greece these different components of democracy reached their fullest development in the Wfth and fourth centuries. If democracy means that all citizens, the entire demos, determine policies and exercise control through assembly, council, and courts, and that political leaders, attempting to shape public opinion, are subordinate to the demos, the Wrst democracy that we can identify with certainty was that of Athens from the 460s, emerging as a result of historically speciWc and even contin- gent factors (see chapter 5 below). At the same time, the contributors to this volume agree, democratic institutions had a long prehistory, and their underlying mentalities and practices can be traced centuries earlier. Popu- lar assemblies, a measure of free speech, a strong sense of community, and mentalities including egalitarianism, personal independence, self-worth, and a refusal to be cowed by the rich, powerful, or wellborn are reflected already in the earliest literary documents from archaic Greece. As we shall see in this chapter and in greater detail in chapter 3, in a number of poleis in the sixth and even late seventh centuries, the demos was prepared to rise up against their traditional rulers, to hand power over to a lawgiver or sup- port a tyrant in seizing power, and according to some sources sometimes even to assume power themselves. Some ancient writers called these early constitutions democracies, although the meaning or accuracy of that desig- nation must remain uncertain. Our inadequate sources for archaic poleis outside Athens and Sparta have obscured the nature of these polities, allow- ing us to conclude only that the impetus toward popular government was an early and Panhellenic phenomenon. The purpose of the present chapter is to identify and analyze, through speciWc case studies, the early preconditions of classical Greek democracy as 22 This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 23 far as they can be recovered. We do not propose that Wfth-century democracy evolved from such roots necessarily and inevitably. Rather, our case studies will help to illuminate how important institutions, practices, and mentalities emerged and evolved, before they were transformed through social and polit- ical crises and conscious political reform in the different stages of democratic development discussed in later chapters. Not least, these focused examina- tions of central topics in archaic Greece will help to balance the classical and Athenocentric perspectives that will necessarily prevail in later chapters. We begin with one example that deWnes more sharply what we are look- ing for. Between 650 and 600 the citizens of a small polis (city- or rather citizen-state), Dreros on Crete, passed a law and had it inscribed on stone: This has been decided by the polis: When a man has been Kosmos, for ten years that same man shall not be Kosmos. If he should become Kosmos, what- ever judgments he gives, he himself shall owe double, and he shall be useless as long as he lives, and what he does as Kosmos shall be as nothing. The swear- ers (to this shall be) the Kosmos, the Demioi and the Twenty of the polis. (ML 2; trans. Fornara 1983: no. 11) This is one of the earliest extant polis laws in Greece. It represents the Wrst instance (as far as we know, in world history) of a limitation being imposed upon the repetition of an ofWce. The Kosmos apparently was the chief mag- istrate and judge of Dreros. The law prohibits him from repeating his ofWce before an interval of ten years has expired and determines the punishment to be exacted for offenses against this restriction, involving material com- pensation and a serious reduction in the offender’s status: he shall be “use- less,” that is, probably, deprived of various civic capacities, including the capacity to hold public ofWce. Two groups of ofWcials (the Demioi and the Twenty) are listed among those responsible for upholding the law. In only a few lines, this law offers invaluable insight into the political and administrative structure of one early polis. More importantly in our present context, it reflects an effort by a community to gain control over its ofWce- holders and leaders (Ehrenberg 1943: 14–18; Willetts 1955: 167–69; Hölkeskamp 1999: 87–95). The body that passed this law—most likely the assembly—is described simply as “the polis.” The polis speaks, in its own voice: “This has been decided by [lit. was pleasing to] the polis” (tad’ ewade poli ). Comparable phrases are known, for example in a sixth-century hon- orary decree passed by Cyzicus in the Hellespont. Privileges bestowed upon the descendants of two citizens are introduced there by “The polis gave” (polis edoke), and the people, the demos, conWrm this by an oath (Syll. no. 4; Ehrenberg 1937: 152; Hölkeskamp 1999: 172–73). Whom does this simple formula comprise? All the citizens who meet speciWc qualiWcations, for example by being prosperous enough to equip themselves for the polis’s infantry army? All the free adult male inhabitants of This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 24 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace the polis? We simply do not know. Nor do we know how “the polis” decided upon these measures: upon the recommendation of a council or ofWcial, by acclamation or vote, with or without discussion, and if the former, who par- ticipated in the discussion. What the phrase does tell us, however, is important enough. This polis had achieved a marked sense of community and of com- munal organization, integration, and identiWcation. A strong sense of com- munity is one important precondition for the emergence of democracy. How far will the extant documents or literary works of even earlier peri- ods help us to Wnd the roots of polis consciousness, egalitarianism, and other prerequisites of democracy, and trace their relations to “people’s power”? Not so far as the Bronze Age, it would appear. Scanty sources from second millennium b.c.e. Greece (material remains revealed by excava- tions, including thousands of inscribed tablets) permit us to reconstruct in rough outline the administrative, social, and political structures of the soci- ety we call, after one of its most spectacular sites, Mycenaean (e.g., Chadwick 1976; Dickinson 1994). Even if they do not include the kinds of texts that illuminate the political and social practices and mentalities we are interested in, these materials make clear that the Mycenaean states were based on a centralized palace economy, hierarchically structured, and ruled by kings with strong political and religious prerogatives.1 They reveal impor- tant analogies to Near Eastern polities of the second millennium and, over- all, are mostly alien to the forms of communal organization that emerged in the early archaic period, after the destruction of the Bronze Age palaces (around 1200 b.c.e.) and a long period of turmoil and retrenchment often called the Dark Ages (encompassing, in various degrees, the time from c. 1200 to 750 b.c.e.; Snodgrass 1971; Morris 1997). Hence we turn Wrst to our earliest texts from archaic Greece: the epics of Homer and Hesiod. “Homeric Society” Many scholars now agree that once we discount a handful of Mycenaean and Dark Age relics and the actions and events that are distorted by “heroic exaggeration,” the “world” presented by the Homeric epics (Iliad and Odyssey) is consistent enough to reflect a historical society that can be dated and contextualized within the social evolution of early Greece. Homer’s world reflects the world of the master poet(s) and singer(s), who composed these monumental epics in the late eighth or early seventh century, or that of a slightly earlier period that was still accessible by living memory and satisWed the poet’s archaizing tendency. The universalizing (Panhellenic) nature of Homer’s poetry does not permit us to place his society geograph- ically. It is a society shorn of traces that are speciWc to particular regions and localities. Its characteristics and problems enabled audiences all over Greece to recognize them and identify with them.2 This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 25 Homer focuses on heroic, elite leaders who compete for honor, status, and influence through combat and debate. “Speakers of words and doers of deeds” (Il. 9.443), their goal is “always to be the best and to excel among the others” (6.208).3 In the elite’s ideology and self-presentation, their heroics decide battles, their persuasive speech sways assemblies, and their class, sep- arated by a wide gap from the commoners, dominates society in every respect. Yet as both epics demonstrate, this is only one side of a more com- plex reality in which the commoners and the community play a much larger and, in fact, crucial role (Raaflaub 1997b; 2001: 73–89). This more complex reality is visible especially in descriptions of battle and related activities, and in the importance assigned to the communal processes of deliberation and decision making. We begin with Homeric Wghting.4 The Iliad spotlights duels between elite warriors and often seems to represent the masses of Wghters as mere followers with little impact on the outcome of battle. The great heroes alone are able to decide the battle, defeat the enemy, or save the city and its people. Hector (the “holder, pro- tector”) bears this quality in his name, and the people call his son Skamandrios “Astyanax”—“lord of the city, since Hector alone saved the city” (6.402–3; cf. 22.506–7; Nagy 1979: 145–46). From this perspective, the leaders are profoundly different from the commoners (laoi, Haubold 2000), and this gap is emphasized frequently, especially in scenes where an individual rises to superb excellence (aristeia). Nothing else is to be ex- pected in a heroic epic. In fact, however, Homer also blurs this gap remarkably often. We hear frequently that all (aollees) the Trojans or Achaians attack or hold their ground (e.g., 13.136 = 15.306; 15.312), and that they Wght in masses and crowds (homiladon: e.g., 15.277). In book 16, the 2,500 Myrmidons perform a collective aristeia, just as Patroclus excels in his individual one. While the latter readies himself for battle, Achilles goes around the huts of the Myrmidons and urges them to arm themselves (155–56). In their hunger for battle they are likened to wolves—a rare wild beast simile, typical of heroes, is here applied to masses of warriors (156–67). They are mustered: Wfty ships with Wfty companions (hetairoi ) each have come to Troy, under Wve leaders (168–97). Achilles gives them a pep talk (“Myrmidons!” 198–209), making each man (hekastos) eager to Wght (210–11), and including them all in his prayer (247–48). In their close formation they resemble a tight wall, in their aggressiveness a swarm of wasps (212–17, 257–67). Patroclus, too, addresses them: Myrmidons, hetairoi of Achilles, we must Wght bravely to honor Achilles, who is by far the best among the Achaeans, “and so are we, his followers, who Wght next to him” (anchemachoi therapontes, 268–75). So he Wlls each man (hekastos) with even more desire to Wght: all together (aollees) they throw themselves upon the Trojans (275–76). All Myrmidons, including Patroclus, are presented as both “companions” and “followers” This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 26 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace (hetairoi and therapontes; see van Wees 1997: 670; Donlan 1999: 345–57) of their leader Achilles. Odysseus himself well illustrates the fluidity and com- plexities of social status in his deceptive story to Athena, explaining that he refused to delight Orsilochos’s father, Idomeneus, and be Orsilochos’s ther- apon in Troy, but instead “I commanded other hetairoi ” (Od. 13.265–66).5 Of course, not every hetairos has equal status and is equally good and brave in battle. But no one is simply expendable: “We all know how to Wght” (Il. 13.223); “there is work for all” (12.269–71); “there is a joint valor of men, even of very poor ones”—that is, combining their efforts, even the worst Wghters can show valor (13.237). Overall, then, despite all the differ- ences among the hetairoi who form the laos of the Myrmidons, each man counts and is taken seriously; each feels responsible for the success of the whole group and acts accordingly. The same concept recurs among Patroclus’s victims, when Sarpedon, dying, calls upon the Lycian leaders and the entire laos to save his body (16.495–501; cf. 2.336–54). Many additional indications suggest that Homer knows and assumes mass Wghting by the people and considers it crucial for the success of battle. Various scenes and similes depict the army’s march to battle, its formation and Wghting. The poet’s narrative technique alternates between “wide- angle” and close-up perspectives and never allows us to forget that the duels between heroic leaders he loves to describe in great detail are selected from a mass of similar duels that are being fought simultaneously along a widely extended battle line (van Wees 1994): And the men, like two lines of reapers who, facing each other, drive their course all down the Weld of wheat or of barley for a man blessed in substance, and the cut swathes drop showering, so Trojans and Achaians driving in against one another cut men down, nor did either side think of disastrous panic. The pressure held their heads on a line. Il. 11.67–72 The two sides closed together with a great war cry. Not such is the roaring against dry land of the sea’s surf as it rolls in from the open under the hard blast of the north wind; not such is the bellowing of Wre in its blazing in the deep places of the hills when it rises inflaming the forest, nor such again the crying voice of the wind in the deep-haired oaks, when it roars highest in its fury against them, not so loud as now the noise of Achaians and Trojans in voice of terror rose as they drove against one another. 14.393–401, trans. Lattimore Other similes refer to forest or steppe Wres, dark clouds and fog, storm winds and their effect on clouds and sea, swarms of birds or insects, herds This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 27 of goats and sheep, woodcutters, leaves, flowers, and the sand on the shore. Before the battle, the dense formations of troops are compared with a solid wall built of stones set so close together that the force of storm winds can- not penetrate it (16.212–17). During battle, they are likened to a towering sea cliff that withstands the power of screaming winds and huge waves (15.614–22). In various combinations, these similes evoke the immense number of soldiers, the speed and violence of their advance or clash, and the horrendous noise caused by their movement and Wghting. The exploits of the leaders—highlighted by a large set of different similes—would not create the visual and sound effects described by the mass similes. The mass Wghting described by Homer reflects only the beginning of a development that several generations later produced the hoplite phalanx (to which we will return). Yet already this poet is aware of an observation that lay behind the conception of the hoplite phalanx: avoidance of indi- vidual exploits and strict adherence to tight formations helped secure vic- tory and greatly reduced losses: “Far fewer of the Argives went down, re- membering always to Wght in tight formation, friend defending friend from headlong slaughter” (17.364–65). This type of Wghting reflects the transi- tion, connected with the rise of the polis, from raids undertaken by elite warrior bands or larger groups of townsmen (e.g., Od. 9.39–61; 14.211–75; Il. 18.509–40; 11.670–761) to formal wars between neighboring poleis (e.g., Il. 11.670–761; 18.509–40), in which all able-bodied men fought who were capable of providing the requisite equipment. Such wars, usually fought for the control of contested land, are attested historically precisely from the late eighth century (Raaflaub 1997c: 51–53). That such Wghting presupposed basic equality among the Wghters is conWrmed not least by the modalities of the distribution of booty in the Iliad. The booty is brought into the middle (es meson, of the meeting place in the agora) and distributed by “the Achaeans,” the laoi (Il. 1.123–29). Even if, for practical reasons, the leaders hand out the spoils (9.330–36; 11.685–88, 703–5), they do so on behalf and in the name of the commu- nity. Even lowly Thersites cries: Son of Atreus, what thing further do you want, or Wnd fault with now? Your shelters are Wlled with bronze, there are plenty of the choicest women for you within your shelter, whom we Achaians give to you Wrst of all whenever we capture some stronghold. 2.225–28 And Achilles complains: The share is the same for the man who holds back, the same if he Wghts hard, We are all held in a single honor, the brave with the weaklings. 9.318–19 This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 28 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace Apart from honorary gifts for the leaders, all soldiers thus receive equal shares.6 In view of all this, it is not surprising that the assembly plays a crucial role in both epics. Here, too, we need to look beneath the surface. At Wrst sight, assemblies seem powerless and easily manipulated. They must be convened by an elite leader. Only the leaders (basileis, sg. basileus) speak. The assem- bled men are limited to expressing their opinion collectively, by shouting approval or displeasure, or else by “voting with their feet,” as in the “temp- tation scene” of Iliad 2.142–54. Leaders as often as not seem to ignore such manifestations, dissolve the assembly, and do what they want anyway. Again, however, closer inspection of a wide range of scenes and inciden- tal remarks often reveals a different reality.7 The assembly is a constant fea- ture of Homeric society, embedded in its structures and customs, and for- malized to a considerable degree. An assembly is called whenever debate of a public issue (demion, Od. 2.32, 44) is called for, in a polis or other social group (such as an army or warrior band). Leaders spend considerable time in the agora and in council. The speaker holds the leader’s staff, thus assuming a position of high communal authority. Zeus (the king of the gods) himself and Themis (“Ordinance”), protectors of justice and divinely sanctioned customary law, watch over assemblies. Normally, the leader makes conscious efforts to convince the assembled men. Great importance is therefore attributed to his ability in persuasive speaking (Il. 9.440–43). The word that we translate as “obey” (peithomai ) literally means “to be per- suaded” and often has that sense, as in the formula “but come, as I speak, peithometha—let us all be persuaded.” Agamemnon employs this formula when urging—not commanding—the troops to sail for home (Il. 2.139). As Mark GrifWth observes (1998: 25–26), “the Greek moral and political vocabulary was always thin on words for ‘obedience’ or ‘subordination.’” Submissiveness and blind obedience are not typical of the laoi. True, there is no formal vote, hence no counting of votes, and no formal obligation to respect the people’s opinion. Later, the introduction of such procedures and obligations will represent a big step toward institutionalized government in Greece. Even so, it is clearly in the leaders’ interest to heed the assembly’s voice. As the cases of Agamemnon (Il. bks. 1–2) and Hector (Il. 18.243–313; 22.99–110) illustrate, the consequences can be serious if leaders persist in ignoring the people or good advice and then fail to exe- cute their plan successfully. Occasional comments suggest that the assembly has considerable power. When Odysseus weaves a tale of a life spent on Crete, he indicates that his community sent him to Troy, despite his reluc- tance, because of his demonstrated skills in Wghting and ambush: “The harsh voice of the people compelled me” (chalepe d’eche demou phemis, Od. 14.239).8 Overall, the assembly has an important function in witnessing, approv- This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 29 ing, and legitimizing communal actions and decisions regarding such mat- ters as the distribution of booty, “foreign policy,” and the resolution of con- flicts (Raaflaub 1997a: 642–43). The middle (meson) is the communal sphere (koinon) shared by all citizens, elite and non-elite alike. It is here that the leaders debate and the masses raise their voice. The meson and koinon are symbols of communal integration. The demos’s importance in this sphere conWrms their importance in war. One of these episodes of communal debate (in Il. bk. 2) contains a signal episode of free speech. Intending to test the resolve of his army, Agamemnon suggests in an assembly to abort the war against Troy and sail home. Contrary to his expectation, this prompts a mad rush to the ships, exposing a crisis in his leadership. Odysseus takes the initiative to restore order. He goes around, speaking to some basileis and distinguished men with soft words. But “when he saw some man of the people (andra demou) who was shouting, he would strike at him with his staff, and reprove him” (188–99): Now the rest had sat down, and were orderly in their places, but one man, Thersites of the endless speech, still scolded, who knew within his head many words, but disorderly (akosma); vain, and without decency (ou kata kosmon), to quarrrel with the princes with any word he thought might be amusing to the Argives.... Beyond all others Achilleus hated him, and Odysseus. These two he was forever abusing, but now at brilliant Agamemnon he clashed the shrill noise of his abuse. The Achaians were furiously angry with him, their minds resentful. But he, crying the words aloud, scolded Agamemnon.... But brilliant Odysseus swiftly came beside him scowling and laid a harsh word upon him: “Fluent orator though you be, Thersites, your words are ill-considered. Stop, nor stand up alone against princes. Of all those who came beneath Ilion with Atreides I assert there is no worse man than you are. Therefore you shall not lift up your mouth to argue with princes....” So he spoke, and dashed the sceptre against his back and shoulders,... and he sat down again, frightened, in pain, and looking helplessly about wiped off the tear-drops. Sorry though the men were they laughed over him happily. Il. 2.211–70, trans. Lattimore Homer makes every effort to discredit Thersites: he speaks out of order, he slanders the leaders to entertain the masses, he is the ugliest man (216–19) and the worst Wghter in the army, he is hated by everybody, and his punish- ment delights the masses, who praise Odysseus extravagantly for silencing this “thrower of words, this braggart” (271–77). And yet Thersites speaks, has done so often, is skilled in speaking, and is not shouted down by the This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 30 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace masses (Thalmann 1988). Moreover, he says exactly what Achilles had said the day before (1.121–29, 149–68, 225–32). Just as the Greek community at Troy in many ways resembles a single polis, so Thersites appears to rep- resent public dissent against an aristocratic leader from amidst the assem- bled masses. Before Odysseus silenced the crowd, other “men of the people” apparently also spoke up, although the poet characterizes this as mere “shouting” (2.198). Even though the commoners lack elite characteristics such as Wne looks and virtues such as modesty (aidos) and knowledge of what is “in order” (kata kosmon), they voice their opinions and sometimes speak up, in deW- ance of the aristocracy. When they fail to do so in Ithaca (in an important assembly scene in book 2 of the Odyssey), in full knowledge of the harm the suitors might cause not only to the estate of Odysseus but to the entire com- munity, they are blamed for their passiveness (Raaflaub 2001: 83–86). Mentor says: I have no quarrel with the suitors. True, They are violent and malicious men, But at least they are risking their own lives.... It is the rest of the people I am angry with. You all sit here in silence and say nothing, Not a word of rebuke to make the suitors quit, Although you easily outnumber them. Od. 2. 235–41, trans. Lombardo In the administration of justice, too, the Homeric demos has a voice. A famous vignette on Achilles’ marvelously decorated shield depicts an arbi- tration scene (Il. 18.497–508; Edwards 1991: 213–18 with bibliog.). A crowd has gathered in the agora. The issue is murder and a disagreement, perhaps about whether or not the family of the victim should accept the compensation promised by the killer. They were heading for an arbitrator And the people were shouting, taking sides, But heralds restrained them. The elders sat On polished stone seats in the sacred circle And held in their hands the staves of heralds. 501–5, trans. Lombardo Although Homer’s leaders are “men who safeguard the laws on behalf of Zeus” (Il. 1.238–39; cf. 2.205–6; 9.98–99), in this scene ordinary people speak and shout, in effect voting on the verdict each elder proposes. More- over, despite Homer’s bias, elite justice comes in for criticism—“there are cracks in the veneer,” as Hans van Wees points out (1999a: 6). Van Wees observes: This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 31 Impartial justice turns out to be the exception rather than the rule when it is claimed that Odysseus “never did or said anything improper to anyone among the people, as is the way [dike] of godlike princes: enemy to one man but friend to another” ([Od.] 4.689–92).... That personal interests may be upheld by means of violence or intimidation is evident from a simile which speaks of “men who, by force, judge crooked law cases in the agora, and drive out justice.” (Il. 16.385–92) Homer’s basileis can be brutal (e.g., Od. 4.690–92). Achilles calls Agamem- non a basileus who “feeds on his people” (demoboros: Il. 1.231). In his grief about Hector’s death, even Priam abuses his surviving sons as “shameful, boasters and dancers, the best men of the dancefloor, robbers of sheep and goats among their own people” (Il. 24.260–62, trans. van Wees). The value system reflected in the epics further underscores the impor- tance of the community. Although no one questions the basileis’ status as leaders, they are constantly challenged by their peers. Their standing, hon- ors, and privileges depend on their service to the community. If they fail, they suffer harsh criticism and disgrace (Raaflaub 1997a: 632 with refer- ences).9 This “warrior ethic” (RedWeld 1994: chap. 3) is exempliWed by a conversation between two Lycian leaders, Sarpedon and Glaukos: Glaukos, why is it you and I are honored before others with pride of place, the choice meats and the Wlled wine cups?... Therefore it is our duty in the forefront of the Lykians to take our stand, and bear our part of the blazing of battle, so that a man of the close-armoured Lykians may say of us: “Indeed, these are no ignoble men who are lords of Lykia, these kings of ours.” Il. 12.310–19, trans. Lattimore Hector eventually prefers to stand up to Achilles and risk death in honor rather than seeking shelter in the city and facing the Trojans’ disapproval: Ah me! If I go now inside the wall and the gateway, Poulydamas will be Wrst to put a reproach upon me, since he tried to make me lead the Trojans inside the city on that accursed night when brilliant Achilleus rose up, and I would not obey him, but that would have been far better. Now, since by my own recklessness I have ruined my people, I feel shame before the Trojans and the Trojan women with trailing robes, that someone who is less of a man than I will say of me: “Hektor believed in his own strength and ruined his people.” Il. 22.99–107 Similarly, Agamemnon and Achilles suffer because they failed to suppress selWsh ambition and anger in favor of the common good (Raaflaub 2001: This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 32 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace 80–83). Thersites rebukes Agamemnon in the assembly: “It is not right for you, their leader, to lead in sorrow the sons of the Achaians” (Il. 2.233–34). Despite the elite’s effort to emphasize distance and qualitative difference, Homer’s language reflects no social contempt for the masses. Ordinary peo- ple are never called kakoi (low, bad, mean), as they are in later archaic poetry. Positive terms like agathoi (good, brave) or heroes are used for them as well. Odysseus treats his men as comrades and friends (philoi ) with care and respect: they are tied together by bonds of mutual dependence (see, for example, Od. 12.260–402). True enough, the ideal often clashes with real- ity. In the Odyssey the positive model of how members of Odysseus’s house- hold deal with poor people and outsiders is contrasted with the negative example of the suitors and unfaithful servants (Havelock 1978: chap. 9). Similarly, the kind offer of employment that the wicked suitor Eurymachus extends to the “beggar” Odysseus in Odyssey 18.357–61 has its counterpart in the broken promises of another elite employer in Iliad 21.441–52 (Finley 1977: 57–58). So, too, as we saw, the leaders can act despicably, but the ideal basileus is a “shepherd of his people” (poimen laon), not a brutal com- mander, distant ruler, or exploiter. For high status with concomitant honors and privileges he depends on the demos (Donlan 1999: 19–20). This material sufWces to demonstrate our point. In Homer, despite elite claims to the contrary, the demos’s role is signiWcant on the battleWeld, in the assembly, and in society. Although equality is not yet formalized or conWrmed by law or ideology, basic forms of egalitarianism are reflected in the weakness of aristocratic authority and social hierarchies, including class vocabulary. In Wghting and in the assembly, each man can contribute, and none is happy to be subordinate or obey. Homeric society recognizes the value and humanity of each individual, even those of low social status. Although the elite may not like it, already men like Thersites are standing up in the assembly and addressing the gathered community. The sentiments of the people are a force to be reckoned with (Od. 16.371–82). Despite his elite focus and aristocratic bias, Homer already reveals some fundamental institutions, practices, and mentalities that would later form the core of Greek democracy. Hesiod’s World Roughly contemporary with Homer and also addressing a Panhellenic audi- ence, Hesiod presents himself almost as an “ideal type” of what must have been a signiWcant Greek population of hardworking farmers, each with a wife and children, two oxen, a slave woman, and hired laborers, ideally pros- perous, though in fact always close to the edge of subsistence (Millett 1984; Hanson 1995: chap. 3). Ian Morris (1996: 28–31; 2000) identiWes this con- stellation of attributes as part of the “middling ideology” later shared by the This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 33 mesoi politai, “middling citizens” of Athens’ classical democracy. However authentic or generic autobiographic details in his epics may be (Nagy 1990: chap. 3), Hesiod purports to be a voice from the people. Unlike Homer’s Thersites, his voice is not mediated through elite scorn. Especially Works and Days is in part a protest poem. Hesiod is sharply critical of aristocratic injus- tice and exploitation, and he implies that such criticisms were widespread (Morris 1996: 28–29): There is angry murmuring when right (dike, or Dike, the goddess of justice) is dragged off wherever gift-swallowers choose to take her as they give judgment with crooked verdicts; and she follows weeping to those people’s town and ter- ritories clad in darkness.... Often a whole community together suffers in consequence of a bad man who does wrong and contrives evil.... Zeus either punishes those men’s broad army or city wall, or punishes their ships at sea.... Beware of this, lords, and keep your pronouncements straight, you gift-swallowers, and forget your crooked judgments altogether. (213 – 73, trans. adapted from West 1993) Works and Days presents an image of independent, hardworking farmers standing up to a greedy and grasping elite: an important precondition for the emergence of people power. At the same time, Hesiod is suspicious of the polis’s public sphere, advises his listeners to stay away from the quarrels of the agora, and urges them to focus on work, farm, and neighborhood (27–34, 342–52; cf. 493–501). Further complicating the picture, Hesiod’s more greatly idealizing Theogony praises the basileis, whom the Muses give honey-sweet tongues so they can settle quarrels fairly, and who appear in the assembly like gods (79–93). By describing the just rule of Zeus, the Theogony offers Greek leaders a model to imitate (Raaflaub 2000: 35–36). These two Panhellenic songs are thus capable of reflecting alternative social visions. Just so, the Odyssey presents Odysseus as a model head of his oikos and fair leader of his community, while in the Iliad Odysseus appears as the tough leader and disciplinarian who beats and mocks the humble Thersites for not knowing how to speak kata kosmon.10 Nonetheless, in neither of his poems does Hesiod make any claim to be equal to elite leaders or challenge their position in society. Empowered by the Muses, Zeus’s daughters, he does claim to be an authority for what is right, just, and good (Nagy 1990: 67). A century later in Athens, Solon’s poems still attest the people’s outrage at injustice. By Solon’s time, however, no one will call the aristocracy “honey- tongued” (Donlan 1999: chap. 2, esp. 68–75). One striking aspect of Hesiod’s message is his insistence on the farmer’s independence and self-reliance. In particular, his world has no place for an institution that was frequent in other peasant societies. Patronage may be deWned as an asymmetrical relationship involving the exchange of goods and services, which the more powerful participant (the patron) has the power to This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 34 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace exploit. Although both useful and common in societies where many live near the margin of subsistence, in ancient Greece, with the exception of Sparta (Cartledge 1987: chap. 9), “instances [of patronage] are so peripheral and so few in number that they do not appear to exert any pronounced influence on the ordering of society” (Millett 1989: 16). Paul Millett associates the absence of patron/client relations with the citizens’ independence charac- teristic of democratic Athens. As his essay reveals, the absence of such rela- tions was typical of most of early Greece. Hesiod shows no awareness of patronage and emphasizes that dependency must be avoided (W&D 354, 366–67, 393–404, 408). Social equilibrium and the protections offered else- where by patronage were maintained through reciprocal relations of lending and borrowing between “friends” (philoi ) and neighbors, that is, exchanges between people of similar status (Millett 1989: 43). Hesiod thus contributes several further elements to our argument. While conWrming Homer’s evidence for the strength of the community and its individual members and feelings of resentment against abuses in the aris- tocratic administration of justice, Hesiod also documents the Greek farm- ers’ deep-seated mentality of personal independence. Throughout their his- tory, Greeks objected to being obliged to another and thus surrendering their freedom. People dependent on others were branded kolakes and para- sitoi, “flatterers” and “parasites.” Forced into slavery, Sparta’s helots (accord- ing to tradition, the formerly free population of subjected territories; see below) revolted and kept their Spartiate masters on constant alert, Wnally winning freedom in the fourth century, when Sparta was defeated by Thebes and its power collapsed.11 In Athens, the dependence of the serflike hektemoroi was one of the main factors contributing to social conflicts and urging radical measures, including the abolition of debt bondage (Wallace, chapter 3 below). According to Aristotle (Politics 1269a36), “the penestai [serflike Greeks] in Thessaly often revolted against the Thessalians.” Among the free, the Greeks’ dislike of depending on another person for their living became even more pronounced in the Wfth and fourth centuries, effectively barring the development of a free labor force (Humphreys 1978: 147). Hoplite Ideology Although its roots are visible already in Homer, the hoplite phalanx devel- oped in a long process and was fully formed only by the mid- to late seventh century.12 It had a notable impact on the ideals and practices of communal cohesion. The poet Tyrtaeus (second half of the seventh century) sang to the gathered Spartiates: Fear not the throng of men, turn not to flight, but straight toward the front line bear your shields.... Those who bravely remain beside each other This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 35 and press toward engagement at the front die in less numbers and save the ranks behind; of those who run all virtue is perished. 11.3–4, 11–14 West 1992; trans. adapted from West 1993 It beneWts the whole polis and demos, when with a Wrm stance in the foremost rank a man bides steadfast, with no thought of shameful flight, laying his life and stout heart on the line, and standing by the next man speaks encouragement. 12.15–19 West; trans. adapted from West, our emphasis Massed in close ranks together, hoplites fought in strict discipline, shoulder to shoulder, shield to shield. Even if hoplite warfare evolved gradually and itself did not constitute a social and political revolution, it reflected social relations in several important ways. First, phalanx Wghting was inherently communitarian, cooperative, and egalitarian. Elites and mesoi fought side by side as equals, in defense of the polis. They learned to trust each other and work together. This furthered a sense of community not conditioned by birth, wealth, or other social distinctions. Second, and related to this point, hoplite warfare offered no room for aristocratic aristeiai, as the Greeks imag- ined were typical of “heroic” Wghting. The best Wghters were placed in the Wrst rank, irrespective of status and class. Hence every hoplite had a chance to be recognized as the best (aristos). The soldier’s arete (excellence), as Tyrtaeus illustrates so impressively, could no longer be claimed exclusively by the elite. Arete was communalized. Even if still at the end of the archaic period, after the great Persian War battle at Plataea, the bravest Wghters were singled out and honored (Herodotus 9.71), all the Greek hoplites who had fallen in this battle were celebrated as heroes and collectively compared with the epic heroes of the Trojan War (Simonides 11 West; cf. Boedeker 2001). Third, the polis supervised training and decided when and where to Wght. Although raids by elite warrior groups and private military actions against neighboring communities still occurred, henceforth the hoplites formed the principal military force of all Greek poleis, and hoplite warfare was communal, conducted by the polis as the collectivity of its citizens. The need for mass warfare was surely in part conditioned by the growing populations of eighth- and seventh-century Greece, and the resulting scarcity of land and development of the concepts of territoriality and Wxed boundaries. The hoplite phalanx evolved in an interactive process with the polis and land ownership (Raaflaub 1997c, 1999). At the same time, many scholars have observed that rigid lines of heavily armed troops were not ide- ally suited to a country with many more hills and mountains than level plains. Quintessential qualities of the hoplite phalanx were the massed equality of all warriors, the equal bravery demanded of everyone together, and the will of each hoplite to acquire armor and Wght for his community. This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 36 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace To substitute for the glory of single combat, the aristocracy turned to com- petitive athletics. At the Olympic games boxing and the pankration were introduced in the Wrst half and middle of the seventh century. The latter was a violent, sometimes deadly mix of boxing and wrestling that barred only biting and gouging out the eyes. We can only speculate about the collective psychology that lay behind the aristocracy’s adoption of such a “sport” (Poliakoff 1987). The synchronicity with the development of egalitarian hoplite warfare is surely no coincidence. Sparta’s World of Homoioi With all this in mind, we now take a closer look at Sparta’s bold, in some ways even startling revolution. In a process poorly documented by our late and distant sources, Sparta in the late eighth century had conquered not only the area on its own (east) side of the Taygetos mountain range (Laconia) but also Messenia in the west. Sometime in the second half of the seventh century, the Messenians rose in revolt and brought Sparta to the brink of defeat. Even earlier, Sparta seems to have suffered another major defeat, by its neighbor and hated rival Argos (traditionally dated to 669). Fragments of the poetry of Tyrtaeus (collected in West 1992: 169–84; trans. in West 1993: 23–27) offer tantalizing insights into this crisis and reflect the desperate efforts of Sparta’s army to defeat the rebels. In response to these major military threats to its survival, the Spartan community began to trans- form itself into a hoplite state. The details of this process have been much discussed recently, in a comprehensive effort at reevaluation. Many of the traits characteristic of the militaristic society for which Sparta was famous evolved over time and were probably not in place before the mid-sixth cen- tury or even later. Yet some elements, including a few that are crucial for our present purposes, resulted from a conscious communal effort of polis reform that can be dated to the seventh century.13 Sparta’s survival depended on the ability of its citizens (the Spartiates) to defend their polis and control the areas and populations subjected in recent wars. A strong and ready army was thus indispensable. It is no acci- dent, therefore, that Wghting in the hoplite phalanx continued to be per- fected during the second half of the seventh century, and that Argos and Sparta (perhaps in response to Argos) were believed to have been the lead- ers in this development. Yet Sparta’s bold response to the dangers confronting it was not only mil- itary, but economic, ideological, and political. The strength of a hoplite army lay not only in its discipline but also in numbers. Whether or not the Spartiates had to provide their own equipment (Cartledge 2001a: 165), it was in the polis’s interest to make sure that a sufWcient number of citizens owned enough property to meet the requirements of the hoplite class. The This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 37 seventh-century crisis revealed alarming deWciencies in this respect. As Aristotle reports, “a poem of Tyrtaeus called Eunomia (“Good Order”) [shows that] some people impoverished by war were demanding that the land should be distributed” (Politics 1306b37–1307a2; cf. Tyrt. 2 West). As a result, the Spartiates made sure that each citizen had sufWcient land to free him for military service and to provide his contributions to communal meals. Subjected helots worked this land, thus providing the Spartiates with the means to keep them in subjection. The hoplite army’s egalitarian ideology came to be expressed in the Spartiates’ classiWcation of themselves as homoioi, “alikes” or “similars” (Cartledge 1996a). To be sure, for much of the archaic period Sparta was less “abnormal” than has long been thought, in this and other respects. Social and economic differences were not abolished (Sparta was no utopia), and continuing differentiation much later became the main cause of a mas- sive decline in citizen numbers and military power (Hodkinson 1983, 1993, 2000). Yet on a basic level, and especially concerning military preparedness, social differences were suppressed and obscured early on: the Spartiates presented themselves as equals. Thucydides observes: “It was the Spartans who Wrst began to dress simply and in accordance with our modern taste, with the rich leading a life that was as much as possible like that of the ordi- nary people” (1.7). Sparta’s transformation was reflected (and effected in part) by a new con- stitution, the so-called Great Rhetra—the world’s Wrst written constitution, attesting to the Greeks’ electrifying discovery that a community could change its traditional form of government by writing down new rules. The rhetra’s provisions are reflected in a poem by Tyrtaeus (4 West, quoted by Diodorus Siculus) and in Plutarch’s Life of Lycurgus (chap. 6, perhaps based on Aristotle’s lost work on the Spartan constitution). Although problems of text and content have been endlessly debated, few scholars doubt the rhetra’s essential authenticity.14 It was normal procedure to sanction political change by religious authority, usually of Apollo’s oracle in Delphi. Tradition has turned this causal relationship around and made the rhetra itself an oracle: After dedicating a temple to Zeus Sullanios and Athena Sullania, forming phu- lai and creating obai, and instituting a Gerousia of thirty, including the leaders (archagetai ), then from season to season they shall apellazein between Babyka and Knakion so as to propose and stand aside (eispherein, aphisthasthai). But to the people (damos? ) shall belong the authority to respond (?) and power (kratos). (Plut. Lyc. 6.2, trans. adapted from Talbert 1988) The gods’ epithets remain unexplained—or else have been emended, for example, to Hellanios/a. Phulai and obai are subdivisions of the citizen body, perhaps tribes and districts or villages. Archagetes is an archaic title of the Spartan kings, who are usually called basileis. Since the assembly was held on This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 38 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace Apollo’s feast day, apellazein (celebrate the feast of Apollo) came to mean “hold the assembly” (Welwei 1997; Cartledge 2001b: 30–31). Babyka and Knakion must be topographical indicators, deWning the place where the assembly was to meet. Eispherein (making proposals) seems unproblematic, while the obscure aphisthasthai (to stand aside) has been the subject of much speculation, none of it provable. The Wrst part of the last sentence is mangled in the manuscript tradition. If proposed emendations are cor- rect,15 the damos was entitled to respond to proposals made by others. Kratos is undisputed: power was in the hands of the damos. Tyrtaeus says the following about the rhetra: The god-honored kings shall be leaders of the council (or perhaps rather: Wrst in debate [archein boules]), they who care for the lovely city of Sparta, and the elders of revered age (presbugeneas gerontas), and then the men of the people (demotas andras), responding in turn to straight proposals (eutheiais rhetrais antapameibomenous). They shall speak what is good and do everything justly and counsel nothing for the city (that is crooked). Victory (nike ) and power (kratos) shall accompany the mass of the people (demou plethei ). For Phoibos has so revealed this to the city. 4.3–10 West, trans. adapted from Fornara 1983 Apollo’s oracle prophesied in hexameters; Tyrtaeus wrote elegiac couplets. His pentameters add nothing essential to the hexametric lines and thus are perhaps “Wllers,” enabling the poet to integrate the oracle into his elegy (West 1974: 184–86). At any rate, some essential points seem clear enough. Here and elsewhere possibly a kings’ man (Murray 1993: 169), Tyrtaeus says there will be a hierarchy of speaking: Wrst the kings, second the other mem- bers of the gerousia (the council of elders), last the common citizens. None- theless, he continues to stress that the full assembly shall have the Wnal deci- sion (nike ) and in this sense, power (kratos). If our understanding of the pentameter in line 4 (“responding to straight proposals”) is correct, the poet’s interpretation would seem to conWrm the emendations (mentioned above) of the corrupted phrase in Plutarch’s text—if, that is, we are right in taking Plutarch and Tyrtaeus as complementing each other. Many “ifs,” but they should not obscure the signiWcance of this docu- ment. By the terms of the Rhetra, the damos of Spartan citizens was to be divided into tribes and villages. The introduction of such civic subdivisions is known from other communities (notably Athens and Rome) and seems to reflect communal adjustments necessitated by the formalization (even after a long evolution) of hoplite Wghting (Raaflaub 1999: 135). The citizens This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 39 were organized into military units according to their residence and regis- tered with their property. The polis thus had a clear sense of the manpower available, and the army could be mustered quickly and efWciently by local- ity. This reorganization was sanctioned by the introduction of new cults of Zeus and Athena, traditionally the protectors of communities. On the political side, the institutions and processes of decision making were formalized as well. The council of elders was to consist speciWcally of thirty men, including the two kings and twenty-eight gerontes who were dis- tinguished by age and experience, being at least sixty years old (Plut. Lyc. 26.1). The place and the dates of mass assembly meetings were Wxed. The assembly was the place where proposals were introduced and decisions were made. That the damos was to have the supreme power to decide is uncon- tested. The kings and elders were to speak Wrst in deliberation. They were to introduce proposals. Was there open discussion in the assembly? That is, did the “men of the damos” participate in the debate or merely answer the proposals collectively, by voting? The evidence of Plutarch and Tyrtaeus is not entirely clear, but the latter’s words make better sense if there was open debate. Furthermore, according to Plutarch the Wnal provision of the rhetra was later amended by a rider: “But later when the people by subtractions and additions perverted and distorted the motions, the kings Polydoros and Theopompos added the following rhetra: But if the people speaks crooked, the elders and the archagetai are to be rejecters” (Lyc. 6.7–8; trans. Murray 1993). The rider implies that individual Spartans had been speaking up from the floor, amending proposals and affecting the assembly’s agenda. Was Sparta, then, as some scholars have argued, the Wrst democracy?16 “To the mass of the damos belong nike and kratos.” In the Wfth century, the juxtaposition of demos and kratos in a suitable context of one of Aeschylus’s tragedies is often taken to circumscribe the word demokratia, which does not Wt the poetic meter (Raaflaub, chapter 5 below). Crucial aspects of the rhetra are that it Wxed the dates, place, and powers of the Spartan assembly, which, even in the classical period, exercised the power by acclamation to decide issues that were brought before it. In a meeting reported by Thucydides (1.87) in 431 b.c.e., following a mass deliberation (1.79), the assembly voted in favor of the ephor Sthenelaidas’s proposal for war, and against King Archidamus. In addition, we know from other sources that the assembly chose members of the powerful gerousia through collective shouting, a form of popular vote in which those who gauged the levels of noise for each can- didate were not supposed to know the latter’s identity (Plut. Lyc. 26; Flaig 1993; Lendon 2001). Those who deWne democracy mainly by the assem- bly’s power to make Wnal decisions will count Sparta as a democracy. Oswyn Murray writes: “The original rhetra itself records the assertion by the assem- bly of Equals of their dominance in the state” (1993: 168–69). As he also notes, “the Spartans were always remarkably free in criticism of their kings This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 40 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace for alleged irregularities of birth or conduct, and were able to depose or exile them” (162). Even those who consider these criteria insufWcient to deWne a democracy will admit that the “protodemocratic” features of Sparta’s system are striking.17 Yet despite such “democratic” elements in Sparta’s constitution the rider shows that free speech from the assembly floor proved problematic. As a consequence, the damos’s power was in some way reduced. The damos’s deci- sions could not perhaps be overruled, but gerontes and kings apparently received some sort of veto power. Whether they could suspend a decision by the assembly with which they disagreed or refuse to accept modiWcations proposed from amid the damos, and what was done next about such con- tested issues, we simply do not know.18 What role the Wve ephors played in this system is unknown. This ofWce is often dated to the sixth century, but it may have existed from the early sev- enth and been enhanced in the sixth.19 Elected for one-year terms by the assembled Spartiates and with no formal restrictions on eligibility, the ephors in some measure represented the damos and formed a counter- weight to the aristocracy represented in the gerousia (Cartledge 2001d: 60) and to the power of the kings. They alone did not rise from their chairs of ofWce in the kings’ presence. Every month, they swore an oath on behalf of the people, to retain the kings as long as they abided by the laws. Every ninth year they watched the night sky for shooting stars. If they saw one, the king was suspended until the oracle in Delphi could be consulted (Plut. Agis 11). How much of this originated in the seventh century and what exactly prompted the increased role of the ephors, traceable from the late sixth century, is anyone’s guess. This does not, of course, preclude the conclusion that some of the characteristics of this ofWce suggest for a much earlier period an enhanced valuation of the damos’s role in the community. Unquestionably, however, by the late sixth century Sparta had progressed a long way on the path toward a militarized society. No doubt, the ideology of the homoioi and the equality bestowed on the citizens by Sparta’s early institutions are remarkable: the assembly’s authority was formally recog- nized, members of the gerousia were elected, and the ephors came to act as a powerful check on the kings. Yet Sparta did not develop into “rule by the people.” We mentioned the restrictions imposed on the assembly by the rider to the rhetra. Although every Spartiate could participate in the assem- bly, it remains unclear to what extent individual Spartans took advantage of this opportunity. M. I. Finley (1982: 33) may have identiWed the difWculty: “Can we imagine that the obedient, disciplined Spartan soldier dropped his normal habits on the occasions when he was assembled not as a soldier but as a citizen, while he listened to debates among those from whom he oth- erwise was taught to take orders without questioning or hesitation?” The early historians (Hdt. 1.65.2–66.1; Thuc. 1.18.1) noted that Lycur- This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 41 gus (the legendary lawgiver) changed Sparta from a bad order (kakonomia) to a good one (eunomia). Collectively, at the expense of the helots’ slavery (Plut. Lyc. 28.11), the Spartiates enjoyed the freedom, privileges, and values typically associated with aristocracy in Greece (31.1). But no one mentions the individual freedom (eleutheria) that characterized classical democracies, or freedom of speech. The discipline required in the army soon pervaded all dimensions of communal and even private life.20 Plutarch writes that in Sparta “no man was allowed to live as he wished,” but “as in a military camp,” all were constantly engaged in public service to their polis (Lyc. 24.1; cf. Aristotle Nichomachean Ethics 1180a24–28). Xenophon states that Lycurgus laid down an inflexible requirement to practice all political virtue. Those who carried out their legal duties were given an equal share in the polis. He did not take into account physical weakness or poverty. If anyone shrank from carry- ing out his legal duties, Lycurgus indicated that he should no longer be con- sidered one of the homoioi. (Constitution of the Lacedaemonians 10.7–8; trans. adapted from Moore 1975: 86) The most important virtue in Sparta was obedience. As Xenophon observes, in contrast to other states where this is considered to be aneleutheron (unfree, that is, not beWtting one’s social status), “at Sparta the most pow- erful men (kratistoi ) show utmost deference to the ofWcials; they pride themselves on their humility, believing that, if they lead, the rest will follow along the path of eager obedience” (Lak. Pol. 8.1–2). In a well-known episode, Herodotus (7.104.4–5) points to the rule of “master” law (despotes nomos) that supersedes freedom and explains Spartan bravery—an assess- ment that is ambivalent in several ways (Millender 2002). Restrictions im- posed on the Spartiates’ personal life promoted strength and discipline in the interest of the community’s survival. Such restrictions could be coercive; they are described in detail in Plutarch’s Life of Lycurgus and in Xenophon’s Constitution of the Lacedaemonians and need not be summarized here. In addi- tion, as Finley (1982: chap. 2) and others have observed, fatal contradic- tions were built into the Spartan system, in particular, inequalities of wealth, birth, and honor. For all these reasons, the “democratizing” elements in Sparta’s early development did not survive past infancy. Yet, under admittedly extraordi- nary circumstances, Sparta demonstrated the potential inherent in the polis’s egalitarian structures. Other Phenomena Promoting Egalitarianism and “People’s Power” More briefly, we mention several other developments that are important in the present context. This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 42 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace First, paradoxically, tyranny to some extent furthered the growth of “peo- ple’s power” in archaic Greece. Whatever the origin and early use of the term turannos (Salmon 1997; Parker 1998), autocratic rule by an individual spread rapidly through a number of poleis during the century after 650. Tyrants monopolized power and honor, elevating themselves above all oth- ers, especially rival aristocrats. Thus, in part, tyranny reflected continuing hierarchic mentalities and ambitions widespread among the elite (Connor 1977). At the same time, many tyrants at least began as the people’s men, supported or even put forward by the demos to defend them against aristo- cratic abuses and the impact of destructive rivalries, and securing commu- nal peace and prosperity (Murray 1993: 144). The sixth-century poets Solon and Theognis and many Wfth- and fourth-century historians reiter- ated the close links between demos and tyrants.21 In these poleis, the people were not yet ready to seize power but they were ready to have a voice in deciding about those who would govern them. As far as the sources indicate, most early tyrannies began as popular dictatorships relying on the support of the demos. A related form of autocratic ofWce helps illuminate the demos’s role in resolving social crises (see Faraguna 2005; Wallace 2007). In Politics 1285a29–b2 Aristotle mentions a third type of monarchy, which used to exist among Greeks of old. This third type is called aisumnetes and was in rough terms an elective tyranny.... The rulers held ofWce sometimes for life, sometimes for a stated period or until cer- tain things should be accomplished: for example, the people of Mytilene elected Pittacus [c. 650–577] for the purpose of repelling the exiles who tried to come back led by Antimenides and the poet Alcaeus. That Pittacus was cho- sen is clear from one of Alcaeus’s banqueting songs in which he grumbles that “with mass-adulation they appointed low-born Pittacus to be tyrant of their easy-going and unlucky state.” (trans. Sinclair and Saunders 1981) Although Pittacus was the Wrst and most famous aisumnetes, others are attested in sixth-century Miletus and Olympia, and “lawgivers” were active in many other archaic poleis (Hölkeskamp 1999; and see below). An early- Wfth-century inscription from Teos forbids the appointment of an aisumnetes even if the majority (polloi ) wish it (van Effenterre and Ruzé 1994–95: 1.105, lines 22–24). On archaic tyrannies, two further points are worth emphasizing. One is that tyrannies typically lasted no more than two generations. Sons often failed to demonstrate their fathers’ abilities, met resistance, became abusive, and were overthrown—often by the demos. The other is that tyrannies had the effect of enhancing communal cohesion and strength and furthering the rise of the mesoi. As the example of Athens illustrates especially well, an extended period of tyranny weakened the elite’s social and economic power and the This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 43 local and regional structures that had supported their political dominance. As a result, communities prospered, and the citizens learned in a new way to focus on the community and its center. If tyrannies suggest that the demos was not yet ready to govern, the “age of the tyrants” was important in unifying the polis and creating the potential for independent communal action (Anderson 2003; Raaflaub, chapter 5 below). Tyranny was thus an important stage in the process toward democracy (Stahl 1987; Eder 1988, 1992). Second, political upheavals by the demos in archaic Greece sometimes had more direct consequences. Eric Robinson (1997; see also O’Neil 1995) has examined comprehensively all the evidence that survives from the ar- chaic period for the existence of institutions and laws that attest to egalitar- ian political structures and popular involvement in polis government. Based on the broad range of democratic constitutions discussed in Aristotle’s Politics and other criteria, he identiWes these early polis systems as democ- racies. He concludes: A pan-Hellenic movement towards egalitarianism, detectable early in the archaic period, preceded democracy’s appearance; our investigation... revealed fully eighteen states for which convincing evidence exists for popular government before 480 b.c. Certainty was not possible, for political history in the archaic period must be constructed from the thinnest scraps of testi- mony.... Of these eighteen, we found the most compelling cases for actual functioning democracies in Achaea, Croton, Acragas, Ambracia, Argos, Chios, Cyrene, Heraclea Pontica, Megara, Naxos, and Syracuse.... Most of them can demonstrate institutions characteristic of Greek democracy. These include mechanisms for the control of magistrates, low or nonexistent property qualiWcations, a representative council, and active popular participation in juries and legislative bodies. At the least, evidence shows the demos to have been kyrios, the single most crucial test. (1997: 126) Investigating the causes of the emergence of such early “democracies,” Robinson states: “Most early popular governments... share one feature regarding their genesis: they arose as a result of an extraordinary political cri- sis.... The conclusion seems inevitable that early forms of democracy only took root as a result of severe political upheavals” (129). “Such results,” Robinson concludes, “accord well with the idea of an emerging pan-Hellenic egalitarianism in the archaic period, for such ideals would seem to be a pre- requisite for the autonomous formation of democratic governments” (129). As Robinson himself recognizes, the evidence for these archaic democ- racies is often tenuous. Others, noting the absence of reliable contemporary information and applying more speciWc deWnitions to “democracy,” might prefer to categorize them as “pre- or protodemocracies.” Aristotle himself notes that the governments that “we call politeiai ”—mixtures of oligarchy and democracy (Robinson 1997: 42)—“earlier men called democracies” (Pol. 1297b22–28). Nevertheless, Robinson’s Wndings are important.22 As This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 44 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace we shall see in greater detail in chapter 3, in some archaic poleis the demos itself was ready to seize power, even if the precise nature of these revolutions can no longer be identiWed. Approaching this issue from a different angle and mostly using different evidence, Ian Morris has also argued for a wide- spread movement toward egalitarianism especially in the second half of the sixth century.23 Third, colonization provided a powerful incentive to establish egalitarian political and social structures. Colonies were newly founded communities, often combining people of different origins, both geographically and so- cially. These people left their homes for various reasons, including social dis- satisfaction and economic misery. Except for the colony’s founder (oikistes), who received certain privileges and, after his death, might be worshipped as a hero, all colonists started from scratch, on the same level, and with the same opportunities. As we saw above (note 5), the settlers of Cyrene were to sail “on equal and fair terms.” In quite a few colonies the equal distribution of plots for houses and Welds is reflected in the plan of the main settlement and the network of roads and paths. This experience in turn had a power- ful impact on egalitarian thinking and demands for redistribution of land “back home” in the Greek mainland.24 Fourth, we return to our starting point (the law of Dreros on Crete). Archaic laws (collected by van Effenterre and Ruzé 1994–95 and inter- preted by Hölkeskamp 1999) provide important evidence for the develop- ment of institutions, for early efforts to limit aristocratic freedom of action, and for an evolving sense of community and joint communal action. True, the elites themselves certainly played an important role in initiating and realizing such efforts, not least because they were able to provide leadership and expertise and were interested in preventing destructive rivalries and the rise of tyranny (Eder 1998, 2005). But clearly such regulations, which often resulted in incisive innovations, must have been prompted by strong pres- sure from within the polis to limit abuses by the elite and secure equal treat- ment for all (Gehrke 2000). As we shall see in chapter 3, the Athenian law- giver Solon states this clearly. Equal for all, laws helped address the problem of “gift-devouring basileis” about whom Hesiod complained earlier (W&D 39). The formalization of institutions, the enactment of written law, and the appointment of mediators and legislators with extraordinary power were supported by the entire polis, as the means to overcome social crises and promote civic justice (Raaflaub 1999: 140 with bibliog. in n. 58). All this had a leveling effect, curbed arrogant abuses of aristocratic power, and promoted equality and security of justice. Such equality affected both the aristocracy and broader citizen classes. In fact, there is much to suggest that an explicit political terminology that stressed not similarity or relative equality (homoiotes, as cultivated by the Spartan homoioi ) but full or absolute equality (isotes, as in isonomia, equality of political shares, or isegoria, This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 45 equality of speech in communal affairs) emerged in elite circles, who saw themselves deprived of equality by a tyrant’s monopolization of power. Once this terminology existed, it could be applied to political systems that were designed to empower broader citizen groups in the interest of stabi- lizing the polis. The reforms the Athenians enacted under the leadership of Solon at the beginning, and of Cleisthenes at the end, of the sixth century are prime examples, but legislation and political regulation with similar pur- poses were widespread in archaic Greece.25 Fifth, as Hesiod’s Works and Days illustrates impressively, day by day, for most Greeks local life, household affairs, working in the Welds, and recre- ation including communal festivals and village dancing were far more signiWcant than the politics of the agora. The Greeks in part transferred to politics what W. Robert Connor (1996a, 1996b) calls “a preexisting demo- cratic culture,” that is, mentalities developed in kinship and neighborhood groups, cult worship, managing their villages (Thuc. 2.15; Schmitz 1999, 2004), and business associations, where working relationships connected individuals as equals, whether brothers or partners. Connor calls attention to the organizations (some of them little understood) that are mentioned in a law attributed to Solon: “If a deme or members of a phratry or orgeones of heroes or members of a genos or sussitoi (messmates) or funerary associates, or thiasotai, or pirates, or traders make arrangements among themselves, these shall be binding unless forbidden by public texts” (1996a: 219; the law is cited in Digest 47.22.4). Connor suggests that not all of these associations were organized on hereditary or hierarchical principles. He also points to a provision in the homicide law enacted by the Athenian lawgiver Draco in 621, that pardon may be granted by father, by brother, and by son, or “the one who opposes it shall prevail” (IG I3 104, lines 13–16). This provision appears to reflect the lawgiver’s awareness that patriarchal authority was lacking, or even that equality prevailed, among the males of a family: even one recalcitrant son could veto what the father had proposed. The uncertain authority of the heads of household (kurioi ) in dealing with other household members is well known from classical Athens, especially in regard to protecting family property (Hunter 1994: 9–42). Even women could come forward to guard the interests of family members. Connor also points to democratic attitudes in the worship of Dionysos, including the carnival atmosphere of free speech and the worship of Dionysos as “the god who in equal measure to rich and humble gives griefless joy of wine” (Euripides Bacchai 421–23; cf. Connor 1989). Egalitarian rather than hierarchic mentalities were thus influential in spheres outside politics. Finally, Jean-Pierre Vernant has long drawn our attention more generally to egalitarian elements in Greek polis society (e.g., 1982: esp. chap. 4). As he observes, This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 46 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace Greek society was egalitarian, not hierarchical. The city deWnes those who compose it by placing them in a group on a single horizontal plain.... Each individual, if he is a citizen, is, at least in principle, able to fulWll all the social functions.... There is no priestly or warrior caste.... The citizen of the clas- sical polis belongs not to Homo hierarchicus but rather to Homo aequalis. (1991: 319–20) Again, Sparta is a partial exception, but Vernant is surely right in pointing out that social equality and independence are reflected in a wide range of phe- nomena throughout Greek life, from the power of ho boulomenos (every per- son who wanted, including slaves) to decide himself whether to be initiated into the Mysteries at Eleusis (Hdt. 8.65.4) to the subjectivity of poets and thinkers. Sappho writes: “Some say a host of cavalry, others of infantry, and others of ships, is the most beautiful thing on the black earth, but I say it is whatever a person loves” (fr. 16 Campbell 1982). Here, Vernant observes, the subjectivity of the poet questions established norms and socially recog- nized values. It also serves as a touchstone for individual evaluations: the beau- tiful and the ugly, the good and the bad.... There exists then a relativity of communally held values. In the last resort, the criterion of values falls to the subject, the individual—what he or she has personally experienced—and this is what forms the substance of the poem. (1991: 319–20, 324, 327) In these and other ways, in early Greece political and military equality, the personal independence and autonomy especially of “middling” citizens, the Greeks’ refusal to subordinate themselves to patrons, overlords, or abu- sive aristocrats, the characteristic openness and tolerance of individuals’ opinions and choices, and personal freedom as balanced by a strong egali- tarian commitment to the community: all of these qualities lay at the root of Greek democracy. They were necessary although not sufWcient conditions for developments that eventually resulted in democracy. It is the purpose of subsequent chapters to discuss the factors that helped realize this potential at various stages in the history of Athens.26 Notes 1. Central palace economy: Finley 1982: chaps. 12–13; Kilian 1988; LafWneur and Niemeier 1995; Thomas and Conant 1999: xxv–xxvii, 1–16; Galaty and Parkin- son 1999; Voutsaki and Killen 2001. That villages or towns in the territory of the var- ious late Bronze Age palace states or in “marginal” areas not reached by them retained structures of self-administration (with leaders and possibly council and assembly) is likely even if only scant references to ofWcials survive; see, for example, Deger-Jalkotzy 1995; Thomas 1995; Parker forthcoming; and various contributions in Galaty and Parkinson 1999 and Voutsaki and Killen 2001 (we thank Sigrid Deger- Jalkotzy for some of these references). Such features are visible on the margins of This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms “People’s Power” and Egalitarian Trends 47 some Mesopotamian states (e.g., Mari: Fleming 2004; see, more generally, Schemeil 1999). On Jacobsen’s theory of “primitive democracy” (1970: 132–70), see Robin- son 1997: 16–22; Fleming 2004: 15–16, 235–41. 2. See Finley 1977; Murray 1993: chaps. 3–4; Morris 1996; Raaflaub 1997a: 625–33; 1998a. The translations in this section come from Lattimore 1951 and Lombardo 1997. 3. Adkins 1960; 1972: 10–35; Stein-Hölkeskamp 1989: chap. 2; van Wees 1992; RedWeld 1994; Donlan 1999: 1–34. 4. See recently Snodgrass 1993; van Wees 1994, 1997, 2000; Raaflaub 1997c, 2005a; see also Cartledge 2001a. 5. In the late-seventh-century foundation decree for Thera’s colony at Cyrene (preserved in a fourth-century copy, ML 5, lines 25–27; trans. Fornara 1983: 23), “it has been decided by the Therans to send Battos off to Libya, as Archagetes and as King, with the Therans to sail as his companions (hetairoi ). On equal and fair terms shall they sail...” 6. Cf. Od. 9.39–42; Detienne 1965; Nowag 1983. This does not preclude, of course, that some commoners, like Thersites in the previous passage, envy the lead- ers for their special shares. Similarly, in Od. 10.38–42 Odysseus’s men complain that they are coming home empty-handed, while Odysseus has amassed many treasures. 7. For details and references, see Raaflaub 1997b; Ruzé 1997: pt. 1. 8. For other examples, see Raaflaub 1997b: 19, 22–23. 9. Even criticism of the leaders’ material privileges is not infrequent (e.g., Il. 2.225–38; Od. 10.41–48). 10. Obviously, though, as Od. bk. 24 shows, Odysseus’s revenge against the suit- ors is excessive and brings the community to the brink of civil war. The resulting con- flict between Odysseus’s family and the other elite families of Ithaca and surround- ing areas can only be resolved by divine intervention and will require atonement on the part of Odysseus himself: see S. West in Heubeck et al. 1988: 51–62, and bibliog. in Russo et al. 1992: 354. 11. Parasites: e.g., Xen. Mem. 2.8; Arist. Rhet. 1367a32; Isai. 5.39; Isocr. 14.48; Dem. 57.45. Helots: Talbert 1989; Ducat 1990; Cartledge 1991; Luraghi 2001a, 2002; Luraghi and Alcock 2003. 12. Cartledge 2001a; Raaflaub 1999: 132–41; van Wees 2000. Krentz (2002; see also van Wees 2001) believes that pure hoplite Wghting emerged even much later (see Raaflaub, chapter 5 below). On hoplite Wghting, see Hanson 1991, 1995, 2000; Mitchell 1996; van Wees 2004: chap. 13. 13. For a survey of widely accepted views before recent reevaluations, see Oliva 1971. Hodkinson has led the recent effort: see esp. 1997, 2000; furthermore, e.g., NaWssi 1991; Kennell 1995; Thommen 1996; and, for the helot problem, Luraghi 2002. For discussion of Sparta’s early expansion and wars, see Cartledge 2001c: chap. 8; Murray 1993: chap. 10; Meier 1998. See also, generally, Finley 1982: chap. 2; Cartledge 2001b. 14. For discussion with bibliog. see Raaflaub 1993b: 64–68; Meier 1998; Car- tledge 2001b: 29–34. Van Wees (1999) argues that Tyrtaeus’s poem has nothing to do with the Rhetra. Contra: Meier 2002 (with van Wees’s response ); Link 2003; Raaflaub 2006. This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 48 Kurt A. Raaflaub and Robert W. Wallace 15. For the unintelligible gamodangorianemen of the MSS, e.g., damoi d’antagorian emen or damodon antagorian emen. 16. “The history of European democracy begins, arguably,... in Sparta” (Horn- blower 1992: 1; cf. Isocr. 7.60–61, 12.153–55). Hansen remarks (1994: 33) that if the emended Rhetra “is a genuine document of the seventh century, we need not have any difWculty in trusting Aristotle and all the other fourth-century sources who hold Solon responsible for the introduction of democracy in Athens in the begin- ning of the sixth century. And if that is true, democracy must have originated in Sparta in the seventh century, not in Athens more than a century later.” 17. Among other criteria to be considered here we mention (a) the severe limi- tation of full citizenship to a few thousand privileged Spartiates, while not only (and obviously) helots and perioikoi, but also other Spartiates were excluded who failed to meet the requirements of the homoioi; (b) the unusual authority of kings and gerontes, who were elected for life, although their power was to some extent balanced by the ephors (see below); and (c) continuing uncertainties about procedures in the assembly. 18. We should point out that some scholars do not accept Plutarch’s explanation of the “rider” as a separate and later regulation but consider it an integral compo- nent of the original rhetra; for discussion and bibliog., see van Wees 1999: 20–22; Welwei 2000: 45–46, 59. We should also point out that recent scholarship (e.g., van Wees 1999, 2002; Meier 1998, 2002) seems to place much stronger emphasis than we do on the aristocratic nature of the Rhetra. 19. Plutarch (Lyc. 7) dates the ephors’ introduction 130 years after Lycurgus, although the dating is controversial. For a detailed discussion of the ephorate, see Richer 1998. 20. “There is one political ideal that Sparta cannot be made to reflect—the rad- ical belief in individual liberty, issuing in liberal democracy” (Rawson 1969: 11). 21. Theognis lines 39–52; Solon frr. 9, 11, 34 ( = Ath. Pol. 12.3) West. See later, for example, Hdt. 3.82.4; 5.92 (with Forrest 1966: 111); Arist. Ath. Pol. 12.3; Pol. 1305a, 1315b. On tyranny, see recently Murray 1993: chap. 9; Stein-Hölkeskamp 1996. 22. See Hansen’s comment (Bryn Mawr Classical Review 1999.09.17): “Robin- son’s impressive collection of evidence adds up to a strong ‘wigwam’ argument, i.e., one built of a number of not very strong parts that gathered together add up to a strong argument.” 23. Morris 1996; 2000: chaps. 4–5. See also Hanson 1995: chap. 5, and discus- sions in Schuller, Hoepfner, and Schwandner 1989 about Greek equality, based on egalitarian polis architecture (see Hoepfner and Schwandner 1994). 24. Colonies: Asheri 1966: 7–16; 1975; Vallet 1968: esp. 74–78, 94–107; Lep- pore 1973; Murray 1993: 113–15. Founder’s cult: Malkin 1987: pt. 2. Impact on Greece: Link 1991; Malkin 1994. 25. See, for legislation, Gehrke 1993, 2000; Hölkeskamp 1999 (and earlier arti- cles listed in his bibliog.). On the origin of isonomia and isegoria, see Raaflaub 1996b: 143–45. 26. We thank Paul Cartledge, Mark Munn, Eric Robinson, and two anonymous readers for generous comments and suggestions. This content downloaded from 193.60.238.225 on Thu, 26 Dec 2024 15:29:57 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms

People’s Power and Egalitarian Trends in Archaic Greece PDF

Document Details

Tags

Related

Summary

Full Transcript

Upgrade to continue