propose other measures for improving and strengthening the state.
The point is that the question was asked, and that, apparently, one year
after his demotion, the city continued to ask itself if it shouldn’t rely on
Alcibiades once more.
This brings to mind the subject of the capriciousness of the populace.
But it really goes beyond this, and Aristophanes’s text encourages us to
pursue the topic. Before replying to the question about Alcibiades, Eurip-
ides asks what opinion the city holds of him, and Dionysus answers by
quoting a line from tragedy, slightly different versions of which have been
used. 31 This verse describes the passion of a heart divided between love and hate. He says: “It loves him and hates him and wants to possess him.”
The opinions of the two poets explain a lot about why Alcibiades was
recalled. But they also explain all the different emotions this exceptional
man aroused. More than the differences between friends and enemies,
they portray Athens as a living person, ambivalent about what it wants,
captivated by Alcibiades, bitterly resentful of the harm he has done, but
incapable of doing without him.
This emotional ambivalence corresponds perfectly to the two sides of
the man—his incomparable gifts and his unscrupulousness. In it there is
sensitivity to the fact that this is characteristic of the people, and is also
perfectly characteristic of all Alcibiades’s relationships. His relationship
with Socrates, remember, was marked by emotion and annoyance, tender-
ness and rejection. His relationships in Sparta or Sardis were equally emo-
tional: people adored him, or wouldn’t have him, or wanted him back.
Alcibiades offers an exemplary political model that lends itself quite
well to the analysis of a historian like Thucydides; but also attached to
him were the contradictions of his personality.
Athens did want “to possess him.” But his situation remained un-
changed. The scene in the Frogs provided an explanation for why: there
had been too many problems, too much fear about his character and his
ambition, too many dashed hopes, too much resentment. It was simply
too late: Alcibiades never returned to Athens.
31. The scholiast says that this verse is borrowed from Phrouroi by Ion of Chios but has been somewhat revised. Since then, it has taken different forms in Latin.
11
A Final Appearance
Alcibiades was securely within his fortifi cations in Thrace, an indepen-
dent operator.
He certainly kept his eye on Athens. And he was not without resources.
He had built a personal army with Thracian mercenaries. With them, he
was able to collect booty. And these resources would allow him to take
action.
First, locally. For Thrace was experiencing problems and revolts: he
could intervene and help the king win. Or he could look around and, as
Plutarch said, “[make] things safe for the neighboring Greek settlements,
so that they did not have to worry about being raided by the barbarian
tribesmen” (36.5). That also meant watching the towns that he had re-
cently restored to Athens’ control. Could this have been a way to win back
Athenian favor and perhaps engineer a second return?
The idea of a small, independent kingdom near the straits was not
without precedent. The famous Miltiades, the victor at Marathon, drew
his power from the government of the Chersonese, a government owing
A
Final
Appearance 167
to the fact that his uncle, also called Miltiades, had been the tyrant of the
Chersonese. Once again, we are forced to admire the speed with which
Alcibiades, shaken by the recent events, instantly conceived a new politi-
cal strategy, a bold one capable of correcting the situation. He set to work
right away. He was already working on a plan.
But he had to wait.
Actually, he may have thought his chance had come with the battle
of Arginusae. This was a naval battle begun under his successor, Conon,
in the autumn of 406. The battle was a disaster: Athens lost twenty-fi ve
triremes, men, and equipment; worst of all, the leaders had failed in their
sacred duty to retrieve the dead and dying. A gripping trial ensued. The
generals who were involved in the battle were demoted. They in turn
blamed the ships’ offi cers, who had not carried out their orders, and those
offi cers blamed the storm. There were bitter arguments about the process.
At this time, Socrates appears and is the only one who refused any action
or any form of judgment that did not conform to the law. The affair ended
with a verdict of death for the eight generals charged, of whom six, who
were in Athens, were executed. Athenians would come to regret this, as
they always did in such cases.
While these events did not concern Alcibiades, they might have given
him an opening, exposing as they did the complete disorder in Athens. And
there must have been some efforts on his behalf: this is precisely the time of
Aristophanes’s comedy the Frogs , discussed in the previous chapter.
But nothing happened. Alcibiades would reappear in Athenian history
only once, the following year. Under circumstances that were shocking
and unforgettable.
It happened on the eve of the battle that would mark the fi nal and defi n-
itive defeat of Athens, the defeat at Aegospotami. It took place near Al-
cibiades’s fortress, at the entry of the straits that bordered the Chersonese.
Lysander, who had just fi nished repairing the fl eet, suddenly set off
from Rhodes for the Hellespont. He reached Abydos. Learning of that, the
Athenians in turn headed north. While Lysander was taking back Lamp-
sacus, very close by, the Athenians reached the Chersonese, wishing to
take back Sestos on the northern coast. But they wished to be close to Ly-
sander’s fl eet and moored at Aegospotami, a small, obscure village whose
name means “the streams of the goats”: a spot on the north side, but just
168 Chapter
11
across from Lysander in Lampsacus. This village would become famous
in Greek history.
Between the two fl eets was the Hellespont. Xenophon emphasizes that it
was not wide at this point, only fi fteen stadia, or less than three kilometers.
The two fl eets have come face to face. Athens had 180 ships in a bad
moorage. Lysander had a fl eet in excellent shape (Cyrus had granted him
additional subsidies) and a fi ne port. It was in his interest to wait.
He acted accordingly, appearing ready to engage but never leaving the
port. He did this for four days.
And this is when Alcibiades, completely by surprise, showed up. He
suddenly appeared in the Athenian camp, confi dent in his experience and
what he had been observing. He offered himself as an adviser at the most
critical moment, a moment of high drama, and proved once more his in-
comparable abilities.
From one of his forts he had seen and understood everything. He ob-
served that the mooring of the Athenian fl eet was vulnerable, just a simple
beach with no nearby town. He knew that they would have to have
all
their provisions brought from Sestos. This is what he told the generals.
He had also seen how things were going and Lysander’s advantage. Each
time the fl eet returned to shore without Lysander engaging in combat,
the Athenian crews felt confi dent, relaxed: Plutarch wrote that the crew
would “disperse and roam around wherever they wanted when they were
on land, while there was a sizable enemy fl eet anchored nearby, which was
trained to move silently into action without needing orders from more
than one man” (36.6). Plutarch also said that Alcibiades could not see all
this with indifference. He came, he analyzed, he advised.
A writer of fi ction would have to search long and hard to create a more
dramatic scene, one more fraught with symbolism. At the very moment of
crisis, before the battle that would eclipse forever the glory of Athens, this
exile, this solitary man rides in on a horse, from out of nowhere, offering
the very best advice—and no one listened! True, the wise counselor who
is ignored is a recurring theme in Greek history and in tragedy. In this
case, he appears unexpected and at the most poignant moment. Alcibiades
comes to the Athenians as a true apparition. It is the ultimate irony that
this man who had always been able to persuade people, even when he was
offering the worst advice, could persuade no longer. He gave a warning,
but Athens was set on its path, to its peril.
A
Final
Appearance 169
We know why the generals were annoyed and suspicious. Why would
they let the man Athens had rejected tell them what to do? Were they sup-
posed to back off again and let him lead? All jealousy aside, they must
have been horrifi ed by his arrival, unsure of his intentions, shocked by
his advice. All the terrible things he had done to Athens weighed on their
judgment and ruined whatever chance he had of fi nally being able to be
of service. The response, the insolence of it, revealed their feelings. Their
names were Tydeus and Menandrus. 1 They ordered Alcibiades to leave, saying: “Others are in command now, not you,” and, as Xenophon said:
“We are the generals, not you.” 2
Alcibiades departed, suspecting, according to Plutarch, “that there was
treachery afoot.” In leaving, he made another of his provocative claims,
saying that “if the commanders had not been so rude to him, he would
within a few days have forced the Lacedaemonians either to have taken on
the Athenian fl eet despite their reluctance to do so or to have abandoned
their ships.” 3
Could he have done that? It is not out of the question. Alcibiades had
more than advice to offer. Diodorus (as well as Cornelius Nepos) sug-
gests that he offered the generals the support of his connections to various
Thracian kinglets. And this is what he meant by that fi nal remark quoted
above. Plutarch says it was possible, “if he had struck at the Lacedaemo-
nians by land with a large force of Thracian javelineers and horsemen, and
thrown their camp into confusion.” 4 He offered not just the advice of a good general, but an alliance and the support of his long experience. All
of which added to the accountability of the generals.
They would pay dearly for their attitude. Lysander fell upon the Athe-
nian forces, which, as he knew, were (as they frequently were) imprudently
dispersed; the triremes were empty or half staffed with rowers. Nine ships
managed to escape: all the others were taken by the shore. Lysander cap-
tured most of the men who were ashore and took all—ships and men—to
Lampsacus. A court ruled on the fate of the prisoners, and three thousand
1. Xenophon. Plutarch names only Tydeus.
2. Plutarch 37.1; Xenophon 2.1.26.
3. This would involve abandoning the ships to fi ght on the ground, as Alcibiades sug-
gests below.
4. Texts cited are Diodorus 13.105; Cornelius Nepos, Alc. 8.3; Plutarch 37.
170 Chapter
11
men were slaughtered. 5 The war was almost over. Lysander soon took Athens, burned the fl eet, and destroyed the Long Walls that had guaranteed Athens safety and independence.
If the generals had listened to Alcibiades, would history would have
been profoundly altered? Who knows?
Even Alcibiades was caught in the middle of the disaster and defeat.
With Lysander ruling the entire region, he could not stay. With Athens
defeated, Sparta established the regime of the Thirty Tyrants; many peo-
ple were executed or banished. Alcibiades, feared by many, was exiled—
along with his friend Thrasybulus. Even Alcibiades’s son was banished.
The Thirty hoped thereby to eliminate a possible rival leader and the
possibility of any action against them. Alcibiades could not go over
to Sparta or seek refuge with Tissaphernes. To whom would he go for
safety? There was only one person left: this was the one man he had de-
feated without a personal quarrel, and that was the other satrap, Pharn-
abazus. We are reminded that this was the one who had shown him
respect. And there was even some gossip about the personal deal made
between the two men. 6
Pharnabazus—that meant Bithynia. And that is where Alcibiades goes.
But could he stay there? Pharnabazus was allied with Sparta, and Sparta
could pressure him. The noose was tightening, the angry mob growing, his
death knell imminent.
Sparta, led by Lysander, ordered Pharnabazus to kill Alcibiades. This,
at any rate, is what almost all sources say, beginning with Isocrates, but
including Plutarch and Diodorus. 7 It was not at the satrap’s court that Alcibiades would die. He was there for a number of weeks, after a journey
full of hardship and having lost everything he owned. But when the order
came to kill him, he was not there.
5. The war had reached a point of bitter cruelty. The Athenians voted to cut off the right hand of all prisoners if they were victorious in battle. This fact was well known to everyone, and it enraged their adversaries against them. Adeimantus, the only general who had voted against such cruelty, was spared by the Spartans but later accused of treason by Conon.
6. See above, chapter 9.
7. Isocrates 16.40; Plutarch 38.6 (in which he tells of the scytale—a type of secret message in use in Sparta—and adds to the other reasons a desire to please King Aegis, Alcibiades’s old foe); last, Diodorus 14.11.
A
Final
Appearance 171
At this point, his movements are cloudy, disappear; the accounts of this
period are contradictory. One thing, however, is certain: Alcibiades had
left the court of the satrap. And death would take him in the fortifi ed town
of Melissa in Phrygia. 8
Why was he there? And where was he going?
One answer, attributed to the historian Ephorus and recounted in Dio-
dorus and Cornelius Nepos, 9 differs from the others and is complex and tinged with misleading orientalisms. In this version, Alcibiades is supposed to
have discovered a plot against the king, would reveal it to Pharnabazus, and
leave in search of a safe-conduct; but Pharnabazus, fearing that this com-
promised him (not having to do with Sparta or the Thirty), had him killed.
This version should be rejected. But it d
oes give us a sense of the myste-
riousness surrounding this story once Alcibiades’s history is separate from
that of Athens.
Plutarch attests to this in alluding to a version of the story that exoner-
ates not just Sparta and Athens but Pharnabazus as well: in this version,
Alcibiades was supposed to have seduced the daughter of a prominent
family and kept her with him, angering the girl’s brothers and leading
them to set fi re to his house. Plutarch is no more convinced of this tell-
ing than Diodorus was of Ephorus’s; both authors simply recount them.
Clearly, each is starting to embellish . . .
However, rejecting the account of Ephorus, the questions remain:
What was Alcibiades doing in Phrygia, where was he going, what did he
hope for?
There is another, stirring, possibility. It seems likely that Alcibiades was
going back to the king, hoping once more to return to the master, seduce
him, and offer to advise him in return for sparing his life.
We will never know. But there was a precedent for this, and we know
that Alcibiades was highly conscious of Athenian history. The precedent
here was Themistocles, who, accused of treason, had been banished from
Athens in an ostracism. Finally, after numerous detours, he wrote a letter
to Artaxerxes requesting asylum. The king was moved and after a year,
after Themistocles had learned the Persian language and the customs of
the country, he was accorded a position with the king more important
8. For the location, see L. Robert, À travers l’Asie Mineure (1980), 257ff.
9. Diodurus 14.11; Cornelius Nepos, Alcibiades 9.10.
172 Chapter
11
than any Greek had ever held. Looking back in time, Thucydides recounts
this at the end of book 1, providing numerous details about Themisto-
cles’s arrival at the court of the one he had defeated at Salamis.
How could Alcibiades, now being hunted down like his forerunner, not
have nurtured the hope of ending up like Themistocles? Themistocles was
the example that Socrates had held up to him, and whom the young Alcib-
iades thought he could never equal. We fi nd the example of Themistocles
in relation to Alcibiades mentioned in Plato’s Alcibiades and later in the
work of Aeschines of Sphettus. In the Gorgias , Plato cites Themistocles as
The Life of Alcibiades Page 25
