Thus Eretrian democrats repeatedly failed to maintain control of their polis during the years preceding the Athenian-led liberation of 341, and there is very good reason to believe that, in the postliberation period, their ability to maintain control would be severely tested. On might reasonably conclude, therefore, that Eretrian democrats quite likely would have lost control of their polis shortly after the Athenian-led liberation, if no serious attempt were made to facilitate their efforts to mobilize in defense of their regime.
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The remaining comments in this section describe (what would appear to be) a typical, Macedonian-supported coup—including the coup at Eretria—during the years immediately preceding the Athenian-led liberation of 341. Such a description, at the very least, will provide both important historical context and insight into the mechanisms of Philip’s imperial success, at least as with regard to Greek cities. There is, however, a potential payoff for this section’s argument. I demonstrate that Philip, in order to gain control of a Greek polis, induced and then exploited a revolutionary coordination problem among its citizens. It might not be unreasonable to suspect, then, that were Philip and his supporters to stage a coup in Eretria—which, per the reasoning presented above, they would likely attempt—they would in some way follow the pattern that Philip had previously followed with success on other occasions, including, again, in Eretria.
It must be noted that the evidence used in the following description is found almost entirely in Demosthenes’s Third Philippic. The reason: that speech is the only source that describes in any detail the manner by which Philip installed puppet regimes in a Greek polis. This is, no doubt, an unfortunate situation. Beyond the fact that much of what he wrote cannot be independently corroborated, Demosthenes is a potentially tainted source. He had, first of all, a strongly held worldview: namely, no democracy would choose to side with Philip and against Athens; if it did, it was corrupted. And he had a political agenda: namely, to persuade the Athenian dēmos to see things his way and thus adopt his policies.31 Those two points notwithstanding, the speech is of considerable evidentiary value since it was written by an astute observer of democratic politics virtually contemporaneously to the events described.32 And it is also worth pointing out that this chapter’s larger argument supports Demosthenes’s analysis.
There appear to have been three stages in a typical pro-Macedonian coup. The aim of the first stage was to deceive the masses about Philip’s actual intentions. In order to achieve that objective, Philip, for his part, would profess his goodwill to the citizens of the poleis that he intended to subject. He claimed, for example, to be an ally to the citizens of Eretria, and to the people of Phokis, and Thessaly; he sent messages of friendship to the Oreitai and of reassurance to the Olynthians.33 Meanwhile, the pro-Macedonian conspirators in the target cities would “speak on Philip’s behalf.”34 Demosthenes does not provide specifics. But it is quite likely that such individuals would repeatedly remind their fellow citizens of Philip’s apparent intention and argue that friendship with Macedon would be advantageous for the polis.35
In the second stage of a typical pro-Macedonian coup, the conspirators intimidated the population. The conspirators began this stage simply by slandering anybody who opposed pro-Macedonian policies. Such men, they would assert, are warmongers, intent on dividing the population and, ultimately, on destroying the polis. And since it appeared to many citizens that Philip was a friendly ally, only a particularly brave individual would risk becoming unpopular by advocating a hard-line anti-Macedonian policy.36 If an individual insisted on advocating such policies, the conspirators would ratchet up their intimidation and propose that he be expelled from the city or silenced in some other way. And the populace, convinced that Philip is a friend, would ratify the proposal: again, they believed that they were preserving the city by eliminating rabble-rousers. This apparently happened in several cities: Olynthos (Dem. 9.56) (where the dēmos was persuaded to expel Apollonides), Oreos (Dem. 9.59–60) (where the dēmos was delighted to see Euphraios imprisoned), Eretria (Dem. 9.57) (where advocates of an anti-Macedonian policy were expelled).37
After successfully implementing the first two stages of the coup, the conspirators could have been reasonably sure that their fellow citizens would be unable to respond effectively to a coup due to a coordination problem. As a result of the deception campaign, individuals would think that the vast majority support explicitly pro-Macedonian policies. As a result of the intimidation campaign, individuals would be deterred from publically stating or otherwise demonstrating what they actually think. As a result, individuals who suspected that some of their fellow citizens were orchestrating a coup would both falsify their preferences and raise their revolutionary thresholds. Demosthenes describes that dynamic well with respect to the coup at Oreos (Dem. 9.61): “Then having all the liberty of action they [i.e., the conspirators] desired, they intrigued for the capture of the city and prepared to carry out their plot, while any of common folk who saw what they were at were terrorized into silence (ἐσίγα καί κατεπέπληκτο), having the fate of Euphraios before their eyes.”
In the final stage of a coup, Philip sent a small force to help the conspirators seize control of the polis. This was the most risky stage, of course. But, as just noted, the populace likely would not be able to mobilize en masse in defense of their democracy due to a revolutionary coordination problem. Speaking generally about the third stage of a coup, Demosthenes wrote (9.50), “When, relying on this [small, light] force, he attacks some people that is at variance with itself, and when through distrust (δι᾿ ἀπιστίαν) no one goes forth to fight for his country, then he brings up his artillery and lays siege.” With respect to the coup at Oreos, Demosthenes wrote (9.61), “so abject was their condition that, with this danger looming ahead, no one dared to breathe a syllable until the enemy, having completed their preparations, were approaching the gates; and then some were for defense, the others for surrender.” And it is to be noted that Philip sent only 1,000 mercenary forces to support the “tyrants” in Eretria (Dem. 9.58). At that time, Eretria likely could mobilize between 4,200 and 5,000 hoplites.38 It would thus appear that Philip correctly expected that the Eretrians would not be able to mobilize effectively in defense of their democracy.
Pro-Macedonian coups no doubt exhibited a considerable amount of variety. Each city had its own internal dynamic. And Philip likely had to alter his approach due to changing circumstances and his immediate needs. To the extent that Demosthenes can be believed, however, the different coups followed a general pattern: a campaign of deception and intimidation encouraged individuals to falsify their preferences and raise their revolutionary thresholds; a light military campaign capitalized on the resulting coordination problem.
Response to Threats: The Tyrant-Killing Law
The comments presented in this section demonstrate that, by promulgating their tyrant-killing law, the Eretrian democrats greatly increased the likelihood that they would be able to mobilize in defense of their regime and thus likely would have deterred anti-democrats from attempting a coup. The validity of that thesis depends, of course, on the extent to which the law facilitated coordinated mass action: the more thoroughly it did so, the more likely anti-democrats would have been deterred from staging a coup. The operative question, then, is, how thoroughly did the Eretrian tyrant-killing law facilitate the democrats’ efforts to coordinate in defense of their regime?
As will be demonstrated, the promulgation of the tyrant-killing law established four separate “layers of defense” for the newly reinstated Eretrian democracy. Three of those layers are “particular,” in that they facilitate coordinated mass action at specific moments in a coup. The aim of the first particular layer was to prevent conspirators from successfully overthrowing the democracy. If anti-democratic conspirators somehow breached that layer, the second particular layer became operational: its objective was to prevent the participants of the successful coup
from consolidating their control of the polis. The third particular layer became operational if the participants in the coup breached the second layer of defense and consolidated their control of the city: its objective was to overthrow the consolidated regime. The remaining layer, which is discussed first, is “general.” It facilitated pro-democracy mobilization at any time in a coup, from its beginnings as a conspiracy to the period after the coup members have consolidated their control of the city.
GENERAL LAYER OF DEFENSE
Old Fragment and Lines 13–17 in New Fragment
The promulgation of the Eretrian tyrant-killing law provided a general layer of defense for the Eretrian democracy by increasing the likelihood that, should members of an anti-democratic faction either attempt to stage a coup or succeed in such an attempt, some individual (or individuals) would subsequently commit a conspicuous and violent act of defiance—“kill a tyrant”—and thereby spark a pro-democracy revolutionary bandwagon. The Athenians promulgated the decree of Demophantos in order to accomplish that same objective, of course. It is thus not at all surprising to discover that the Eretrians followed the same two-step process as that used by the Athenians: (1) lower the revolutionary thresholds of moderately risk-averse individuals by generating common knowledge of widespread credible commitment to defend the democracy; (2) incentivize particularly brave individuals to lower their revolutionary thresholds to zero. The Eretrian democrats, however, went to greater lengths than did the Athenians to achieve those ends. The following comments validate that assertion by comparing the “tyrant killing” (or “spark and bandwagon”) provisions in the Eretrian tyrant-killing law to those found in the Athenian decree of Demophantos.
One clear and significant difference between the Eretrian tyrant-killing law and the Athenian decree of Demophantos is the fact that the Eretrian law explicitly incentivized noncitizens to “kill a tyrant.” Evidence for that assertion is found in lines 6–7 of the old fragment, where the law, listing the rewards that will be given to a tyrant killer, states, “if he is a citizen.” The use of that conditional indicates—virtually without any doubt—that the law also appealed to noncitizens. The question is thus: what group or groups of noncitizens were incentivized?
It is reasonable to conclude that the Eretrian law incentivized both free foreigners (xenoi) and slaves (douloi) to become tyrant killers. The case for free foreigners is simplest. To begin with, if the law incentivized only one noncitizen group, it would be free foreigners since they were only one level of status below citizens. And additional support is found in the fact that the Ilian tyrant-killing law (chapter 6) explicitly incentivized xenoi to kill tyrants (lines 28–29). The case for inclusion of slaves is only slightly less solid: they, too, were incentivized in the law from Ilion (lines 31–32); two well-known laws from late-fifth-century Thasos incentivized slaves to act in defense of the ruling regime (ML 83, lines 2 and 10); there are examples in the literary record of slaves having been rewarded—or promised rewards—for fighting in defense of a city’s democracy.39
The generosity (or size) of what might be called the “tyrannicide incentive package” constitutes another important difference between the Eretrian tyrant-killing law and the decree of Demophantos. The decree of Demophantos simply states that the tyrannicide, if he lives, will receive the cash value of one-half of the “tyrant’s" property; but if he dies, he and his descendants will be treated like Harmodios and Aristogeiton and their descendants. Unfortunately, there are only three rewards in the Eretrian law that are known for certain—i.e., not restored in Knoepfler’s text: (1) public maintenance (sitēsis: line 9); (2) something concerning children (line 11); (3) something concerning daughters (line 13) and likely connected to the word “drachmas” in line 14. It is thus reasonably clear that the tyrant killer, should he survive, would receive (at least) public maintenance (sitēsis), while, if he died, his children would be taken care of. It is important to note here, however, that Knoepfler has persuasively argued (2001b: 210) that lines 5 to the end of the old fragment record only the rewards that would be given to a citizen tyrannicide—the rewards for noncitizen tyrant killers having been recorded in the lost lines of the law that followed the old fragment and preceded the new fragment (about four or five lines).40 That strongly suggests that the law recorded additional rewards for the citizen tyrant killer: there is too much space within which to record only the three aforementioned rewards. And citing compelling epigraphic and literary parallels, Knoepfler has (with reason: 2001b: 211–13) restored two rewards: (1) a statue in the tyrannicide’s likeness would be erected somewhere in the city;41 (2) the tyrannicide would receive a front-row seat at festivals (i.e., proedria). It is also reasonably suggested that the citizen tyrannicide would receive a cash payment.42
It is impossible to know for certain what rewards the Eretrians were prepared to give to a noncitizen tyrant killer. But, again, a comparison with the law from Ilion might be helpful. That law states (lines 28–31) that a free foreigner (xenos) would receive the same rewards as a citizen tyrannicide and could become a citizen. A slave, on the other hand, would receive his freedom and half the cash payment that would be given to a citizen or free foreigner tyrannicide (lines 31–36). It is by no means certain that the Eretrians did the same. But it is not unreasonable to suspect that they did something similar.
Before discussing the final difference between the Eretrian tyrant-killing law and the Athenian decree of Demophantos (again, just concerning the tyrant-killing “spark” and “bandwagon” dynamic), it is important to determine which individuals were legitimate targets of assassination. The old fragment clearly (i.e., not restored) marks as legitimate targets “the tyrant” (line 6) and anyone who “makes an attempt at tyranny” (line 5). Two points suggest, however, that the law authorized the assassination of any (prominent) member of a nondemocratic regime. First, Knoepfler has restored (line 6) “whoever kills a member of the tyrant’s faction (τυραννίζοντα) or the tyrant” and, in lines 10–11, “if the killer of a tyrant or the leader of an oligarchy dies.” Those are reasonable restorations: (1) the participle τυραννίζοντες is found in a nearly contemporaneous speech written for an Athenian audience ([Dem]. 17.7), and its meaning (“member of the tyrant’s faction”) is virtually identical to that of “whosoever shall help to install a tyrant,” which is found in the decree of Demophantos; (2) “leader of an oligarchy” is found in the Ilion tyrant-killing law (lines 19–20). Second, by the 340s, to many Greeks—not just Athenians—the concept of “the tyrant” was broad and could include the members of any nondemocratic regime. For example, the leader of the democratic revolution in Rhodes in 395 (Hell. Oxy. 10, 2 = column xi, 12–28) encouraged his fellow citizens “to attack the tyrants as quickly as possible.”43 And after the famous assault on Thebes in 379 (Xen. Hell. 5.4.9), the revolutionaries encouraged their fellow citizens to rally to their side because “the tyrants are dead.”
The means by which the Eretrians generated common knowledge of credible commitment to defend the democracy constitutes the final significant difference between their tyrant-killing law and the decree of Demophantos. The decree of Demophantos, of course, required all citizens to swear a one-time oath by tribes and demes.44 The Eretrian law did not require the citizens to swear an oath. Instead, it mandated that Eretria’s priests and priestesses utter a curse calling for the total destruction of all individuals “speaking or acting” contrary to the law’s provisions. Two points are important.
The first point is that the priests and priestesses pronounced the curse at both the Dionysia and the Artimisia. The Dionysia was held in the city of Eretria on 12 Lenaion; the Artimisia was held in Eretria’s countryside about two months later (end of Anthesterion).45 It is quite reasonable to suppose, therefore, that virtually every citizen, whether he lived in the asty or the chora, heard the curse. The performance context for the oath’s pronouncement is unknown. But it is quite likely that the law was displayed, read, or—at the very least—r
epeatedly referred to.46 And the “audience” likely made signs of commitment to enforce the law or to show their support of the curse’s sentiment.
The second point is that the priests and priestess pronounced the curses annually. This is not stated explicitly, but it is certainly implied. Doing so provided an opportunity for each Eretrian both to reaffirm publically his commitment to uphold the tyrant-killing law and to observe his fellow citizens reaffirm publically their own commitment. Widespread support for the tyrant-killing law—that is, to defend the democracy—would thus be maintained as common knowledge. And that would be very important in a “young” democracy where credibility of commitment could be doubted.
It thus appears that the Eretrian democrats established a solid general layer of defense for their new democracy. On the one hand, they directly incentivized all male members of their larger society to kill any (prominent) member of a nondemocratic regime or participant in an anti-democracy coup. On the other hand, they ensured that widespread credible commitment to uphold the tyrant-killing law (i.e., to defend the democracy) remained common knowledge. Success could not be guaranteed, of course. But they did greatly increase the likelihood that, at anytime while the democracy is threatened or overthrown, someone would “kill a tyrant” and thus spark a revolutionary bandwagon that would overwhelm the anti-democrats.
FIRST PARTICULAR LAYER OF DEFENSE
Lines 3–13 in New Fragment
The promulgation of the Eretrian tyrant-killing law provided the first particular layer of defense by increasing the likelihood that a sufficient number of democrats would successfully respond to subversive activity before anti-democrats actually overthrew the democracy. It did so by explicitly criminalizing two subversive acts.
Death to Tyrants! Page 11
