The Classical World

by Robin Lane Fox

  One of his effects is to leave us with a 'Socratic problem'. Evidence about him is tendentious in two ways. It is either hostile and satirical, or it is defensive and idealizing in the hands of his pupils Plato and Xenophon. If Socrates was modestly born and took no fees, how ever did he live, while questioning all comers (but especially noble young men) day after day? We do not know, but like other scruffy academics he liked a good dinner-party and was said to have a strong head for wine. He also liked beautiful, well-born young men: did they pay for him, or did he find some source of income which his admirers have hidden from us? His followers included two pupils who took contrary views on luxury. One opposed it, and focused on the 'ascetic', shoeless Socrates, whereas the other endorsed 'pleasure' as the supreme good, like the Socrates who enjoyed a smart dinner table. Centuries later, the Christian St Augustine noted Socrates' contradictory 'effect' in this respect. It seems that he liked a good evening, enriched by upper-class Athenian splendour, but it was not his ambition or his measure of his own worth.

  Socrates enquired above all into questions of values and ethics. Justice and its advantages were no doubt one such question and Socrates would seek a clear definition of the concepts at issue, in order to help sort out disputed cases. He did not teach religiously assured 'values', but he did argue from premisses. It was later believed, wrongly, that he claimed to know nothing, except that he knew nothing at all. Instead, he said that he lacked wisdom. Unlike an expert in carpentry or shoe-making, he had no body of knowledge which he could pass on systematically and prove in practice. He knew some things, but he did not know a system. This questioning was so important because others in Athens claimed to have found such knowledge on so many exciting new subjects.

  Socrates was remembered, especially by Plato, for his irony or mock modesty. Importantly, he practised it as one among a wider group of intellectuals. Since the 440s Athens had become a magnet for visiting thinkers and foreign teachers who transformed the horizons of the city's young: by the 420s it is correct to talk of a generation gap here between fathers and sons. It was not an absolute gap, because some of the old listened to the new thinking, too, but it marked a real, perceptible change in Athenians' ways of reasoning and arguing. Some of these thinkers taught the art of speaking; some of them had radical views about the gods, even claiming that they were man's creations for social reasons. They continued to teach astronomy, geometry and the sciences which had been first broached in Ionia; Hippias, whom Plato mocks, even worked on the chronology of the past. They also distinguished what was 'natural' from what was 'conventional', thereby raising a fundamental question in human ethics and societies: Protagoras argued, according to Plato, that some conventions might actually be natural, because man is a social animal by nature. For those in their charmed circle, lectures by these people were thrilling. Plato's dialogue the Protagoras catches the excitement of one such visit by these great men. Hearers had swarmed into the exclusive home of the rich aristocrat, Callias, and had slept over in every corner in order to hear the lectures.

  Thinkers are always good for a laugh and in 423 bc two separate Athenian comedies picked on Socrates. The best known, Aristo­phanes' Clouds, satirizes him as a sophist who teaches new gods with names like Chaos or Swirl, and who denies that thunder and lightning are instruments of Zeus' punishment. He runs a 'Thinking Shop' and teaches fee-paying pupils how to make unjust arguments prevail over just ones. His scientific eccentricities mean that the usual gods are no longer his 'common currency'. His pupils learn amoral behaviour. They cheat, behave unjustly and beat up their elderly fathers. One father, in conclusion, urges that the 'Thinking Shop' should be burned down. 'Why did you insult the gods,' he asks, 'and inspect the moon's backside? Chase them, beat them, pelt them for a hundred reasons but most of all for remembering how they "wronged the gods".'1

  Aristophanes appears to have dined in Socrates' company and bantered with him. Social acquaintance, however, can go with private ridicule and disgust, especially when one of the guests is an intellectual. Perhaps some of Aristophanes' hearers and readers were as sophisti­cated as some of his modern scholars and somehow took the extreme aggression of the aggrieved father in this play as another joke. But most of them took it, surely, at face value.

  These attacks had a wider context. In the 430s an Athenian decree had been passed which appears to have made impiety a criminal offence for 'those who do not acknowledge the divine' and who (perhaps) 'teach about things on high'.4 The democracy did not toler­ate atheism, but it took a crisis or some political manoeuvring to make it a major issue in the law courts. In 415 bc, just before the ill-fated Athenian expedition to Sicily had sailed off, organized groups of wreckers smashed the erect phalluses off the herms on Athenian streets. Fearing a political coup, the people prosecuted the suspects and uncovered even more who had profaned the Athenians' cherished cult of the Eleusinian Mysteries in their private houses. The guilty parties included well-born young men, often in their mid-twenties or thirties, who had probably enjoyed the intellectuals' teaching. The most spectacular profaner of the Mysteries was the gifted Alcibiades, nobly born, lisping, handsome and a bold and envied presence on the political scene. He was also Socrates' most celebrated pupil and was widely believed to be one of his lovers.

  In spring 399 the case against Socrates was 'impiety' and the charges against him reflected the satire in Aristophanes' play. He was said to be introducing 'new gods', which was not an offence in itself, but only if the 'new' gods excluded worship of the traditional gods of the city's cults. Socrates' supposed scientific divinities were said to do just this, and he was also known to appeal to a guiding 'inner divinity', which stopped him from some things, according to Plato, and gave positive orders too, according to Xenophon. Atheism, implicitly, was the consequence, and Socrates also 'corrupted the young'.

  To our minds, 'corruption' suggests sexual harassment. Such har­assment was obviously an issue in Socrates' reputation, although Aristophanes ignored it. Both Plato and Xenophon protest too much against its existence. Xenophon's Socrates admits that he is 'always in love with someone',' but deplores homosexual acts: he rebukes an Athenian who is about to engage in one, and criticizes him for behav­ing like a piglet which is rubbing itself against a stone. Plato's Socrates admits to being set on fire by catching a glimpse of a lovely boy's body under his tunic. Plato also acquits him, too emphatically, of having sex with Alcibiades: Alcibiades wanted it, Plato tells us, but Socrates supposedly slept chastely in his arms. Socrates' social life is teeming with homoerotic lovers and their passions: one rare item in his personal knowledge was certainly the god of love.

  To the Athenian jury in 399 bc, what mattered most was Socrates' moral effect on his most famous pupils. By rejecting the accepted gods, was he not encouraging grossly amoral behaviour? Here recent events were against him. His beloved Alcibiades had behaved outrage­ously at Athens' expense, even deserting to the Spartans. His darling Charmides had ended up as one of the abominable Ten who had terrorized Athens in the final stages of a Spartan-backed coup at the end of the war. Sweet, flaxen-haired Critias had been unspeakably awful, the master-mind behind the Thirty Tyrants who had started the rot and had cost many innocent Athenian lives.

  In spring 399 an amnesty forbade political charges based on these dreadful events. Socrates was accused of other things, but his pros­ecutors will have cited the bad company he kept: it seemed to be the supreme proof of his amoral, irreligious influence. One prosecutor, Meletus, had just pursued a charge for impiety against Antiocides, another unpopular aristocrat: he is probably the speaker of a surviving speech for the prosecution of this case which is filled with notable religious bigotry. The manoeuvring escapes us, but Meletus then helped to prosecute Socrates. It was not that Socrates had ever taught tyranny or the political philosophy of a junta: if he thought use of the lot silly, he could still tolerate it or reconcile this view with his continu­ing to participate in the democracy. His best-known friends were already corrupted b
efore he met them; they had been spoiled by their birth and family position, and Socrates was only culpable in so far as he did not convert them. The legal form of his trial left the jurors to choose between either party's proposed sentence. The prosecution proposed death, and if Socrates had proposed exile or a big fine, he would have saved himself. He did not, because he knew the trial was unjust and a mockery of his life. To Plato we owe the sublime speech of defence which he himself had never troubled to make. In it, 'Socrates' anticipates an afterlife spent discussing philosophy with pupils in the next world. It was indeed his mission, and as the afterlife will be eternal, he will, logically, be spared the risk of tutorial fatigue and boredom.

  16

  Fighting for Freedom and Justice

  Proclamations such as these are to be made from time to time so as to scare and deter conspirators. The free population and the harvest-crops are to be brought into the city, and anyone who wishes may lead away or carry off from the countryside without penalty the goods of anyone who disobeys . .. There are to be no private gatherings anywhere whatsoever, neither by day or night, but those which are really necessary may be held in the town-hall or the council or any other public place. No soothsayer is to sacrifice in private without a magistrate. Men shall not dine together in a common mess, but each must dine in their own houses, except for a wedding or a funeral-feast and even these they must notify in advance to the magistrates.

  Aeneas, on measures during attack by invaders, 10.3-5

  (late 350s bc)

  The forty years or so which followed the Spartans' unlikely victory over the Athenians are a kaleidoscope of wars, ever-changing alliances and brief bouts of supremacy for one or other major power in Greece. But behind the apparent confusion, the ideals of justice and freedom were still passionately defended and variously interpreted. There were local gains, too, in the loss of supremacy by any one great power. Outside Sparta and Athens, citizens of other Greek communities once again became prominent.

  Culturally, the concentration of thought, theatre and the arts in one great city, Athens, was weakened when her power and finances ceased to be exceptional after 404 bc. Perhaps half of her male citizenry was dead (down to around 25,000 by 403 bc, not the 50,000 or more of the 440s), but her cultural legacy did not die too. Beyond Athens, it continued to spread because it was still the 'education of Greece', as Pericles had called it. Sculptors who had worked on the great building-programme of the Athenian Acropolis migrated to dynastic-patrons elsewhere and took their tricks of the trade with them. Upper-class houses in Attica had been decorated with fine wall paintings but, as their patrons went into eclipse, a new school of painters emerged in their wake in Sicyon, a Peloponnesian town which had been out of the limelight for nearly two centuries. Theatres, an Athenian inven­tion, were to be found all over the Greek world and would stage the recent Athenian masterpieces as part of their repertoire. Admiration for the top actors would be shared by the new dynasts of the age, the rulers in Sicily and the kings up in Macedon.

  There were also new centres of success and prosperity. In the north of Greece, on the Chalcidic peninsula (near modern Mount Athos), a powerful League began to prosper around its leader, Olynthus, the city whose town plan and levels of comfort and luxury are the best known to us in Greek history: King Philip, father of Alexander the Great, flattened the city in 348 bc, thereby preserving it for archaeolo­gists as a Greek precursor of Pompeii. Like many other towns in the Greek world, it was laid out on a formally planned pattern. This regular sort of grid-plan with regular blocks of houses was not an Athenian invention (it was known in western Greek cities, including Metapontum), nor was it necessarily the creation or reflection of a democracy. At Olynthus, it originated in the 430s, but it may have owed something to a recent innovator from whom Athens, too, had recently benefited. In the 440s and 430s areas behind the Athenians' port, the Piraeus, had been redesigned: the agora there, especially, had been devised by the flamboyant Hippodamus, a visitor from Miletus. Hippodamus was a theorist, a social Utopian and a planner who believed in 'zones' and divisions in a city's layout; he was invited to work on the town plan of the Athens-led settlement out at Thurii in 443 bc. He could be particularly influential because he wrote a text on his theories. Certainly, archaeologists have uncovered a regular grid-plan on Rhodes where Hippodamus is said to have worked. Such plans did go on to characterize many fourth-century cities: one is most evident at little Priene in western Asia which was refounded in the 340s and 330s. Hippodamus' work for Athens was probably important for their adoption, especially if his 'book' discussed the principles: Athens was not, however, responsible for their wider adoption.

  The ending of the Athenians' empire also diluted Athens' attraction for visiting intellectuals. Here too she was important, but no longer central. While Plato, mostly in Athens, idealized the recent advances in maths, the greatest mathematician and astronomer arose in a town which had been a backwater, Eudoxus from Cnidus in Asia Minor. In Athens itself, the most popular options were rhetoric, the art of speaking and writing, or philosophy. For many years, pupils from all over the Greek world came to Athens to study with the literary teacher Isocrates. However, his prose style suffered from his detachment from active political life; even now his works have a tediously predictable rhythm when analysed by computers. Isocrates attacked his intellec­tual superiors, the philosophers who studied with Plato. There was a real 'war' of higher education, but Plato, then Aristotle, were the winners, as we shall see.

  Politically, the major event of the first decades of the fourth century was the renewal of brutal dominance by the Spartans, to be followed by the welcome collapse of their main power-base. At the end of the fifth century, Lysander the Spartan had already posed severe questions about the scope for an individual's pre-eminence in the Spartans' so-called peer group. He had challenged the system's opposition to luxury and the import of foreign riches: it was in connection with Spartan ideals that the enfeebling effects of 'luxury' were most widely discussed in this period. 'Softness' and personal extravagance were seen as social vices in the eyes of contemporary moralists. They charac­terized despots (the princes of the kingdoms on Cyprus were particu­larly 'bad' examples) and undermined hardy warrior societies (the weaknesses of the fourth-century Persian Empire were therefore traced rather superficially to 'luxury').

  Through the spoils and victories of the late fifth century, hundreds of silver talents arrived into a Sparta whose ideals were still strongly opposed to incorporating them. Other hoards of silver were detained, or directed, by Lysander himself. Lysander did not succumb to luxury personally; rather, he was a masterly briber and corrupter of others. From 406 bc he devised his own shocking versions of 'freedom' and 'justice' for Greek communities. They involved the subjection of whole cities to decarchies, or cliques of ten men who were fiercely pro-Spartan and anti-democratic. The result was an 'uncountable slaugh­ter of populist democrats in the cities': what would Lysander do to a defeated Athens? It was said that he proposed the enslavement of the entire population, while a Theban, the hateful Erianthus, even demanded that Athens should be dug up and Attica turned into a sheep-farm. Both Thebes and Corinth pressed for Athens' destruction.

  In the last years of the great war, Sparta had been assisted from 407 bc onwards by a Persian prince, the young Cyrus. No sooner was the war ended than she had to help this Cyrus in an outright attempt at fratricide, his campaign to murder his brother Artaxerxes, the legitimate new king of the Persians. Cyrus failed and was killed in Mesopotamia in autumn 401, while charging into battle on his hard-mouthed horse Pasakas. As a result, Sparta was regarded as the prime Greek enemy by the surviving Persian king. She soon had problems, too, in Greece. In 403 Sparta had finally agreed terms with the surviv­ing Athenian democrats, but her continued dominance quickly alien­ated the Corinthians and the Thebans. So they began a war against her in alliance with the very Athenians whom the two of them had recently tried to annihilate; the allies were helped with ships and mo
ney by the anti-Spartan Persian king. At least this war killed off Lysander, who died in battle in late summer 395 in central Greece. His ambitions had scared even his fellow Spartans. After his death his supposed plans for reforming Sparta's kingship were said to have been found in his house. They were too persuasive, it was said, for their finder, King Agesilaus, to dare to read them out, so they were destroyed. This riveting story had implications for all parties who were involved in it.1

  In this renewed war, the Athenians depended on the crucial support of the Persian king, but as their fortunes revived they began to trouble his territories in Asia too. In the late 390s the Athenians began to play for very high stakes: they assisted rebels on Cyprus and in Egypt as if to repeat the ambitions in Asia which they had held in their heyday in the 450s. To regain Persian favour, the Spartans agreed to turn Cyprus and the Greek cities in Asia back to the Persian king: the result was a Spartan-Persian agreement, the motive for the more general 'King's Peace' of 386 bc. After this grave betrayal of Greek freedom, the Spartans set about a brutal abuse of the principle of 'autonomy' which had been offered in the King's peace-terms in Greece. 'Auton­omy' was a sort of freedom, but as always, a freedom within limits: it still presupposed an external power strong enough to infringe it. The Spartans promptly lived up to this definition. They broke up the city of their unreliable Arcadian neighbours, the Mantineans, while claiming that 'autonomy' required it to be split into villages.