The first subversive action criminalized (lines 3–6) is unauthorized traveling abroad by a member of the council or (likely) a magistrate (archōn). There could be any number of reasons why the Eretrians criminalized such behavior. But perhaps the single most important objective was to prevent individuals with institutional authority from communicating with foreign agents or Eretrian exiles. A councilman or magistrate, for example, might formulate a plan with such individuals to overthrow the Eretrian democracy. And, upon returning to Eretria, he could use the power of his office to implement it. Thus the law equates such unauthorized travel with “dissolving the dēmos.”47
The second subversive action criminalized in this section of the law (lines 6–13) is proposing (λέγων) or putting to vote (ἐπιψηφίζων) a bill that would dissolve the regime in control of Eretria. The objective here is to prevent a “legal” coup where—like what happened in Athens in 411—the assembly simply votes to change the regime. It thus should be noted that the law does not call Eretria’s legitimate regime a democracy. Instead, it refers (lines 6–7) to “this regime—the one now in existence.” And later in the law (lines 19–20), the legitimate regime is described as one with a “council and prytaneia appointed by lot from all Eretrians.”48 The Eretrians did so in order to prevent anti-democrats from using the word “democracy” in order to mask a proposal that really established some sort of oligarchy. A great example of such a trick occurred, again, in Athens during the coup of the Four Hundred when Peisandros cynically suggested in the assembly that the Athenians adopt “another type of democracy” (Thuc. 8.53.1).49
The punishments for committing either subversive act correspond to how immediately the act threatened the Eretrian democracy. The first act—unauthorized travel abroad—did not constitute an immediate threat. Thus the punishment was comparably mild: a guilty man would be stripped of his office immediately, and both he and his family would be deprived of their political rights (i.e., be declared atimoi). The second act (active involvement in a proposal to dissolve the regime in control of Eretria), on the other hand, represented an immediate threat. Thus an individual guilty of that crime would be punished severely: he would lose his political rights, his property would be confiscated, he could not be buried in Eretrian soil, and—quite remarkably—he and his family may be killed, the killer being rewarded just like a tyrannicide.
As noted above, the criminalization of the two subversive acts increased the likelihood that a sufficient number of democrats would successfully respond to subversive activity before anti-democrats actually overthrew the democracy. It is reasonable to suppose that neither of the two aforementioned subversive acts was illegal before the law’s promulgation: individuals had the freedom to propose (and the dēmos the freedom to ratify) any motion; magistrates had complete freedom of movement. If that were the case, it would have been very difficult for democrats to coordinate in response to such acts even if many suspected that the actors were working to subvert the democracy: there would be confusion about what others think is acceptable behavior. By criminalizing those two acts, however, the Eretrians knew that such behavior was, in fact, widely viewed as unacceptable. And they also knew what to do in response (and that that response enjoyed widespread support). Thus, if a councilman traveled abroad without permission, the assembly would be much more likely to remove him from office and deprive him of his political rights. And if someone participated in a resolution to change the regime, a supporter of the democracy would be much more likely to assassinate him. In both scenarios, the conspirators would fail.
SECOND PARTICULAR LAYER OF DEFENSE
Lines 17–24 in New Fragment
The promulgation of the tyrant-killing law provided the second particular layer of defense by increasing the likelihood that supporters of the Eretrian democracy would respond immediately and in sufficient numbers to a successful coup and thereby prevent the coup members from consolidating their control of the city.50
The Eretrian lawmakers envisioned two scenarios in which anti-democrats might succeed in overthrowing the Eretrian democracy. First, the assembly might actually vote to dissolve the democracy. Specifically, the law envisions (lines 17–20) a scenario wherein someone puts to a vote (ἐπιψηφίζει), drafts (γράφει), or votes for (φέρει) a bill that would change the regime.51 It might appear as though there is a redundancy here since, just a few lines earlier (in the provisions concerning the first particular layer of defense), the law addressed a scenario wherein someone makes a proposal or puts to the vote a bill that would dissolve the current regime. The difference is that the earlier provision focuses on attempts to stage a legal coup, while the later provision focuses on a successful attempt to stage a legal coup.
The second scenario envisioned by the democrats (lines 20–21) is the use of brute force. Specifically, the law addresses someone establishing either a tyranny or oligarchy and using force (ἐγβιάρηται: literally “to force out”). It is quite possible, of course, that, in drawing up this provision, the Eretrians imagined any scenario wherein anti-democrats used force in order to overthrow the democracy. Two points, however, might suggest that the Eretrians had something more specific in mind. First, the immediately preceding provision considered the possibility that anti-democrats might establish a nondemocratic regime by a vote in the assembly. Second, the provision that immediately follows refers to participants in either of the two scenarios covered in the “second layer of defense”—that is, the use of assembly procedure and the use of force—as those “who will prevent [a meeting of] the assembly and prytaneia.” It is quite possible, then, that the Eretrians envisioned a scenario wherein anti-democrats used force in order to expel their opponents from the assembly before a vote on regime change.
The promulgation of the Eretrian tyrant-killing law increased the likelihood that Eretrians would respond adequately to a successful coup by explicitly ordering all citizens to mobilize quickly in defense of their democracy. The moments immediately following a coup are crucial in determining who will control the state. If democrats respond slowly—if they wait, looking around for others to act—the coup members will have time to intimidate, misinform, and ultimately atomize the population. They will have time, that is, to consolidate their control of the city. If the pro-democrats are able to mobilize quickly, however, they could overwhelm their (likely numerically inferior) opponents. But that is easier said than done: the mobilization must be large-scale; military leaders might be dead or unable to issue orders. The Eretrian democrats thus issued—in the law—the mobilization order in advance. Quite revealingly the law reads, “all citizens must assist the dēmos immediately and join in battle against those who will prevent [a meeting of] the assembly and prytaneia, each considering himself competent to fight without an order.” The hope is that there would be a leaderless uprising, a riot, throughout Eretria.52 And the coup members would be defeated before they were able to solidify their control of the city.
THIRD PARTICULAR LAYER OF DEFENSE
Line 24 to End of New Fragment
Promulgation of the tyrant-killing law provided the third particular layer of defense by increasing the likelihood that the pro-democrats would eventually be able to regain control of the polis in the event that anti-democrats successfully solidified their control of the polis.
The law articulates two scenarios—both of which indicate that the anti-democrats have consolidated their control of the city—wherein the third layer of defense would become operational. In the first scenario (lines 24–26), the anti-democrats prevent the members of the council from convening in the Agoraion. It is not entirely clear why the law focused on such a scenario. Perhaps the citizens normally looked to the council for guidance and instructions. Thus, should the council be unable to perform that function, the democrats would be powerless. In the second scenario (line 26), the anti-democrats actually shut the dēmos out of the city walls. Knoepfler suggests that such a drastic development might take place duri
ng a large-scale civic festival.53
Promulgation of the tyrant-killing law increased the likelihood that the democrats would overthrow a consolidated nondemocratic regime by explicitly ordering all Eretrians to form a pro-democracy resistance movement. Specifically, the law requires (lines 26–30) every Eretrian to “secure some Eretrian stronghold, whatever seems advantageous for all helpers to arrive at; after securing [the stronghold], receive any Greek who arrives and wishes to help the dēmos of Eretria.” The law does not state where the democrats should convene. But that is quite reasonable: if the law publicized the location beforehand, the anti-democrats almost certainly would secure it in the early moments of the coup. Operational flexibility was essential. (The location would spread by word of mouth in the event of a coup.)
It perhaps goes without saying that an individual Eretrian would have required a good reason to join a resistance movement. Participation would be dangerous, disruptive, and time-consuming. Thus one might be tempted to “free ride,” that is, to not participate in the struggle but to benefit should it succeed. Why would an individual choose to participate? There are three complementary reasons.
The first and most fundamental reason that an individual would choose to participate is that the resistance movement would have a reasonably decent chance of success, should an adequate number of individuals join. To begin with, many—most likely most—Eretrians had already participated in resistance movements: such movements are known to have been conducted against Ploutarchos (348) and Kleitarchos (342–341).54 Thus people knew the drill, as it were. In addition, the Eretrians had reason to expect support from the citizens of other poleis. The Athenians, it will be recalled, were treaty bound (IG II2 230) to assist the Eretrian dēmos in the event of a coup. And Chalkis (led by Kallias) almost certainly would provide assistance too. (Eretria was part of the Euboian League led by Chalkis [Aischin. 3.85–105]; see above in the introduction to this chapter.)
Financial considerations also would have motivated an individual to participate in the resistance movement. The law is very clear on this point (lines 32–36). If an individual joined the movement and the movement succeeded, he would receive a portion of the property and movable goods that belonged to those individuals who did not join. The flip side of that provision, of course, is that anybody who did not join in the movement would lose his property. Thus poor individuals had the opportunity for financial gain. Rich Eretrians would be motivated to keep what they had.
The final complementary reason why an individual would choose to join the movement is that all participants were legally obliged to attack anyone who did not participate. The law does not order participants to attack anyone actively defending a nondemocratic regime. Instead, it orders (lines 30–32) the participants to attack anybody who “does not help the dēmos.” Thus an individual could not hope to play it safe by neither joining the resistance movement nor defending the nondemocratic regime. Each individual would have to choose which side he would actively fight for.
After taking into consideration the three aforementioned factors, a typical, moderately risk-averse individual might reasonably conclude that a sufficient number of his fellow citizens will join the resistance movement and that, as a result, the movement would prevail. Thus, after he saw a few men “run to the hills,” he would decide to do likewise, believing that others would follow him. And others would, in turn, follow him for the same reason. Thus the resistance movement would enjoy more and more support and quite possibly overwhelm Eretria’s nondemocratic regime.
The analysis presented above demonstrates that the Eretrian pro-democrats, by promulgating their tyrant-killing law, utilized a strategy commonly referred to as “defense in depth.” The law, that is, did not simply establish a single line of defense for their democracy. Instead, it established multiple lines of defense, each of which became operational at particular “progression points” in a coup: one line sought to disrupt a coup even before the democracy was overthrown; another line sought to prevent the members of a successful coup from consolidating their control of the polis; another line sought to dislodge a consolidated anti-democratic regime; and another, the “general layer of defense,” sought to facilitate large-scale pro-democracy mobilization whenever anti-democrats threatened to overthrow, or succeeded in overthrowing the Eretrian democracy. The Eretrian tyrant-killing law is thus considerably more sophisticated than it might appear at first reading.
Considering how thoroughly the tyrant-killing law facilitated coordinated mass action in defense of the Eretrian democracy, one might reasonably suspect that anti-democrats would be deterred from staging a coup. One cannot know for certain, of course. But the pro-democrats greatly increased the probability that a coup would fail. And the degree to which they increased that probability is (roughly) the greater degree to which anti-democrats would begrudgingly choose to cooperate with the newly reinstated Eretrian democracy.
Stability
The comments presented in this short section demonstrate that the Eretrian democrats maintained secure control of their polis—in a very difficult environment—for several years after they promulgated their tyrant-killing law. The chronological terminus for the discussion is 323—i.e., the death of Alexander. Several points argue in favor of that terminus. First, it is reasonable to conclude that the law’s impact decreased over time: it would thus become increasingly irrelevant to extend the period of time examined. In addition, the death of Alexander marks the beginning of a new era in Greek history—when Alexander’s “successors” fought with and against each other for supremacy—wherein Eretria’s internal dynamics might very well have been both qualitatively and quantitatively different than in the years prior. And finally, evidence that sheds light on the fortunes of Eretria’s democracy in the years after Alexander’s death is both sparse and ambiguous.
The first point in support of this section’s argument is that Eretrian democrats were optimistic about the viability of their regime a couple of years after the Athenian-led liberation. Evidence in support of that point is found in an Eretrian decree (RO 73) promulgated in circa 338.55 The decree, which establishes the basis for augmenting the city’s festival for Artemis, reflects optimism and confidence. Effort is made, for example, to attract foreigners to compete in various musical competitions and participate in an elaborate procession and sacrifice. The final sentence of the decree (lines 41–45), however, is particularly telling: “write up the decree on a stone stele and stand it in the sanctuary of Artemis, in order that the sacrifice and the musical festival for Artemis shall happen in this way for all time, with the Eretrians being free, prospering and ruling themselves” (ἐλευθέρων ὄντων Ἐρετριέων καὶ εὖ πρηττό̣ν̣|των καὶ αὐτοκρατόρων). Eretrian democrats almost certainly would not have articulated such a sentiment during the years preceding their liberation.56
It is important to emphasize the fact that the decree does not simply reflect postliberation euphoria. The Eretrians, again, likely promulgated the decree a couple of years after the fall of Kleitarchos. Thus enough time had elapsed for the Eretrians to assess the viability of the new, postliberation status quo. And they certainly appear to have been quite positive.
The second point in support of this section’s argument is that Eretrian democrats maintained control of their polis after the battle of Chaironeia and throughout the reign of Alexander. That they had such control during the reign of Alexander is adequately attested epigraphically—there is no doubt.57 It is true that the there is no evidence that surely sheds light on Eretrian politics immediately after Chaironeia. But there is no reason whatsoever to suppose that the Eretrian democracy was overthrown after Chaironeia and reestablished early in the reign of Alexander.58
It is quite remarkable that anti-democrats did not reclaim control of Eretria after the battle of Chaironeia. There can be little doubt that they would have liked to stage a coup d’état. And one would think that they had the opportunity to do so.
To begin with, the Eretrian pro-democrats were, at least during the previous generation, unable to defend their regime against attacks launched by their domestic adversaries. In addition, Eretrian pro-democrats likely would not have received support from an outside power (e.g., Athens or Chalkis); they would have had to defend their regime by themselves. And finally, Philip quite likely made it known that he was not at all averse to pro-Macedonian, anti-democratic coups in the wake of his victory at Chaironeia. Demosthenes, for example, wrote (18.65) that, after his victory, Philip destroyed, wherever he could, “the prestige, the authority, the independence, and even the regime of every city alike.” And there is reason to suspect that many cities suffered pro-Macedonian, oligarchic coups in the wake of Philip’s victory, likely with Philip’s active support.59 One might reasonably conclude, therefore, that, if Eretrian anti-democrats did not assume control of their polis, they either tried and failed or did not try because they thought they would fail. In either case, their failure (actual or expected) would have been due to the Eretrian pro-democrats.
The evidence presented above demonstrates that the Athenian-led liberation of 341 marked a turning point in the history of Eretria’s fourth-century democracy.60 As noted in the “Threats to Stability” section of this chapter, during the thirty years before 341, the Eretrians had three different democratic regimes covering (collectively) about twelve years (377–370, 357–353, 344–343) and four different “strongman” regimes covering about eighteen years (370–357, 353–349, 349–344, 343–341). The story after 341 is quite different: the democrats maintained control of the polis for eighteen years straight. And, at least during the first few of those years, one might reasonably conclude that the pro-democrats’ ability to maintain that control was severely tested by their domestic opponents.
Death to Tyrants! Page 12
