Death to Tyrants!

by Teegarden, David

  • Ephesos (I. Ephesos 1377). This is a small fragment likely dated to the fourth or third century BCE—thus an early Hellenistic date is quite likely. That it is an anti-tyranny law is suggested by (1) ἤν τις (“if someone”) in line 3; (2) ἢ τύραννον (“or a tyrant”) in line 6.

  • Priene (I. Priene 11). This is a decree of the dēmos establishing a Soteria festival after having overthrown a tyrant. The reference to the tyrant is restored by Robert (1944: 7–8) in line 11 (τ[ὸν τύραννον καὶ τοὺς στρατιώ|τ]α̣ς [ἐκ]πεσεῖν [ἐ]κ τῆς πόλεως). The reference is almost certainly correct, in light of the fact that the people of Priene did suffer through the tyranny of Hiero. And Hiero is repeatedly referred to as ὁ τύραννος in a later decree of Priene (I. Priene 37).

  • Mylasa (I. Labraunda 41). This is a very fragmentary decree (dated to the second half of the fourth century) that quite possibly concerns a democratic constitution. Line 2 reads [-]. τ̣υρα[νν? .c.3.] (“tyra[nt” vel sim.). And line 4 reads [-δ]ι̣καζε[.c.5.] (“a]djudica[te”).

  • Olbia (Lebedev [1996], pp. 263–68). This inscription copies part of the epigram engraved on Harmodios and Aristogeiton’s Athenian tomb. Lebedev noted that the lettering is virtually identical to IOSPE I2 160—a dedication of a statue to Zeus Eleutherius that dates to the first half of the third century. Lebedev prefers to date the inscribing of the tyrannicide epigram in Olbia, however, to the last third of the fourth century. The final two lines of the inscription read: [ο]ἳ κτάνο[ν] ἄνδρα τύρα[ννον ἐλευεθερίην τ᾿ ἐσάωσαν] | πατρίδι καὶ λαοὺς αὀτ[ονόμους ἔθεσαν (vel ἐθέτην)] (“who killed the tyrant, preserved freedom for the fatherland, and made the people autonomous”).

  • Kalymna (Tit. Calymnii Test. XII). This inscription, dated to the first half of the third century, records a mass public oath to defend the democracy. They swore (lines 21–22) ὀλγαρχίαν δὲ οὐδὲ τύραννον οὐδὲ ἄλλο πολίτευμα ἔξω δαμο|κρατίας οὐ καταστάσω (“I will not establish an oligarchy and not a tyranny nor any other regime except democracy”).

  • Nisyros (Syll.3 1220). This fragment, dated to the third century, forbids burials or the erection of any type of grave monuments for certain individuals. It is quite likely, as noted by Dittenberger, that this fragment is part of a tyrant-killing law.

  Thus, if we include the enactments studied in the last three chapters of this book (i.e., from Eresos, Erythrai, and Ilion), there is evidence for anti-tyranny or tyrant-killing enactments promulgated in six different geographic regions during the early Hellenistic period: the northern Black Sea Area (Olbia), the eastern Aegean (Nisyros, Kalymna), Troas (Ilion), Lesbos (Eresos), Ionia (Erythrai, Priene, Ephesos), and Karia (Mylasa).88 Such a distribution, by itself, suggests that inscribed anti-tyranny proclamations were very popular in and around Asia Minor at that time. And when we include the fact that Alexander widely promoted anti-tyranny and tyrant-killing ideology during his conquest of Asia Minor, there can be little doubt about it.

  Second, tyrant-killing legislation was effective in the three Asia Minor cases that we can fully analyze. I made the argument for Eresos, Erythrai, and Ilion in chapters 4, 5, and 6, respectively. In each case, it appears that, subsequent to the law’s promulgation, anti-democrats were deterred from staging a coup d’état. There thus is no reason to suppose that tyrant-killing legislation, for some reason, would be ineffective in Asia Minor poleis.

  Third, it is unlikely that tyrant-killing legislation would spread so widely in Asia Minor unless it was effective. This is just common sense: people and states adopt new technologies if they actually solve problems. The more effective the technology, the more likely it will spread, assuming, of course, that it is suitable and sufficiently publicized. The diffusion of hoplite warfare and the spread of coinage throughout the Greek world are prominent examples of this dynamic.

  Finally, it appears that Ilian pro-democrats expected their tyrant-killing law to work. The key point here is that the law focuses so extensively—provisions 5 through 13—on punishing various activities that would take place while the democracy is overthrown. It is true that the law from Eretria articulates a punishment for anyone who does not help the dēmos regain control of the polis after a successful anti-democratic coup (new fragment, line 30 to end). But the law from Ilion goes much further, for example, by outlawing different types of financial transactions and prescribing different punishments for those who use the law court, depending on the trial’s outcome. The detailed articulation in the law of what will be done once pro-democrats regain control of the polis strongly suggests that the Ilian pro-democrats believed that the promulgation of the law would facilitate their efforts to respond to a coup. Perhaps they knew that tyrant-killing legislation had been effective in other cities in Asia Minor.

  Many factors contributed to the success of democracy in Hellenistic western Asia Minor. The ability of pro-democrats to mobilize in defense of their regime, however, was virtually a necessary condition for its survival. And the argument presented above demonstrated that Athenian-invented tyrant-killing law was both popular and effective in Asia Minor from the time of Alexander’s conquest through the early years of the Hellenistic period. Any accounting for the success of what might be called Asia Minor’s “Hellenistic democratic revolution” must thus include the important role played by tyrant-killing law.

  Finally, I would like to return to the conclusion of chapter 2, where I suggested that there might be a link between the success of the Eretrian tyrant-killing law and the subsequent popularity of tyrant-killing legislation in the early Hellenistic period. That connection can now be made more explicit. Simply put, Alexander likely observed that both the Athenians and the Eretrians, by promulgating tyrant-killing law, successfully countered his father’s attempt to subvert their democracy. Alexander thus promoted that law type and its underlying ideology in order to prevent his opponents from subverting the democracies that he established in and around Asia Minor. That explains how and why the technology of tyrant-killing law “jumped” from the Greek mainland to Asia Minor.

  * * *

  1 There are some signs, however, that Ilion’s economic condition improved slightly starting around the middle of the fourth century. See Berlin (2002) and Lawall (2002).

  2 Ilion, since it is was a polis on the mainland of Asia Minor, became part of the Persian Empire pursuant to the terms of the King’s Peace (Xen. Hell. 5.1.31). The internal history of Ilion with respect to events in the Troad during this period is not well known. Ariobarzanes was the first satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia after the King’s Peace, and thus the regional overlord of Ilion (Xen. Hell. 5.1.28). By 366 he was in rebellion against Artaxerxes II, as a leading figure in the so-called Great Satraps’ Revolt (Diod. Sic. 15.90.3—falsely compressing events into the single year 362/1). Ariobarzanes was subsequently betrayed by his son Mithridates and executed in circa 361 (Xen. Cyr. 8.8.4; Arist. Pol. 1312a16). According to Diodoros (17.17.6), there was an overthrown statue of him by the temple of Athena at Ilion when Alexander arrived. After the capture of Ariobarzanes, Artabazos was appointed the lawful satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia and he appears to have held Ilion for a time (perhaps with his brothers-in-law, Mentor and Memnon): Dem. 23.154–58. He revolted (in 356) soon after Artaxerxes III assumed the throne in 359/8 (Diod. Sic. 16.22.1); in 352, he fled to Macedon, but was later pardoned by Artazerxes III (Diod. Sic. 16.52.3).

  3 In 360, Charidemos of Oreos controlled Ilion (Dem. 23.154–58, Aen. Tact. 24.4–14, Polyaenus 3.14, Plut., Sert. 1.6, [Arist.] Oec. 2.30). (He had initially sided with Artabazos’s brothers-in-law against the Persian king during the former’s period of revolt, but betrayed that alliance to gain control of Skepsis, Kebren, and Ilion.) Charidemos ruled Ilion for only one year. (I. Ilion 23 likely records the Ilians’ gratitude to Menelaos the son of Arrabaios for his role in liberating
the city from Charidemos in 359.) It then appears that Artabazos’s brothers-in-law, likely with Artabazos himself, controlled Ilion for a couple of years (Dem. 23.157–58). And finally, from 355–334, the Athenian mercenary general Chares probably controlled Ilion along with Sigeion: many coins minted in Sigeion while Chares controlled it have been found in Ilion; when Alexander arrived at Ilion (334), Chares traveled from Sigeion to greet him (Arr. Anab. 1.12.1; Cook [1973: 180]; Berlin [2002]).

  4 Alexander sacrificing at Ilion: Plut. Alex. 15; Diod. Sic. 17.17.6–18.1; Arr. Anab. 1.11.7–1.12.1; Strabo 13.1.26 (alone in placing the sacrifice after the battle of Granikos). The temple to Athena in Ilion as part of Alexander’s “last plans”: Diod. Sic. 18.4.5; cf. Strabo 13.1.26. Since Ilion was an Aeolic polis, it would have been democratically governed per Alexander’s order (334) to Alkimachos: Arr. Anab. 1.18.1–2. Strabo wrote (13.1.26) that Alexander elevated Ilion to the status of polis. But Xenophon (Hell. 3.1.16) already referred to it as a polis.

  5 The earliest evidence for the koinon at Ilion is I. Ilion 1, an inscription that includes five decrees of the koinon (each text begins with γνώμη τῶν συνέδρων) praising Malousios of Gargara. The decrees praise Malousios for (inter alia) providing funds to (1) send embassies to Antigonos (lines 8–9, 23–26 [where he is referred to as “king”]); (2) build a theater (lines 10, 28, 39). On the koinon at Ilion, see the comments in Billows (1990: 218–20) and Magie (1950: 869–71n53). There is no evidence linking Alexander and the koinon at Ilion, although it is reasonable, considering how interested he was with Ilion’s temple of Athena, to suspect that he was somehow involved. For the terrace wall and “prytaneion,” see Rose (1999: 46). On the improved fortunes of cities in the Troad under Antigonos, see McShane (1964: 24–25).

  6 Text: Peter Frisch, Die Inschriften von Ilion, no. 25 with some changes (indicated in the notes). Frisch also provides a commentary and German translation. There are two other standard commentaries: (1) IJG (II: 22–57) (text, French translation, and a discussion that includes an investigation of some Athenian material); (2) OGIS 218 (text with Latin commentary). There are, in addition, several other important works on this law. Friedel (1937: 82–97) provides a (not reliable) Greek text for lines 19–106, 116–30, a German translation of much of the law (not, bizarrely, of lines 106–16), and comments. Berve (1967: 419–22) provides a quite brief overview of the law’s provisions and short comment. Funck (1994) presents the law’s possible historical and political context. Koch (1996) provides an analysis of several of the law’s provisions and situates the law in the general history of regime-preservation legislation. Dössel (2003) provides a text, German translation, and comments on several of the law’s provisions. Maffi (2005) provides a through examination of several of the law’s provisions and a French translation of some of the law’s most controversial provisions. The editio princeps: Brueckner (1894). Somewhat surprisingly, this law is not included in any of the standard “sources in translation” books that cover the Hellenistic period (i.e., Austin [1981], Burstein [1985], Bagnall and Derow [2004]).

  7 The stone reads τύραννον ἢ ὀλιγαρχίαν.

  8 Frish (followed by Dössel) punctuates this differently: [ἢ] φεύγηι, δεσμῶν τιμάς κτλ. See below, in the discussion of provision 8, for the significance of that alternative punctuation. The punctuation accepted here is standard (i.e., in Dittenberger).

  9 Frish (followed by Dössel) restores this differently: ἐὰν τὴν | δίκ[ην μὴ νικήσηι, ψῆφον πρ]οσ-θέμενος κτλ. For a discussion of Frisch’s restoration and the standard (in Dittenberger) restoration accepted here, see the discussion of provision 9 below.

  10 Frish does not accept this standard (in Dittenberger) emendation. Instead he keeps the stone’s ἐπιγαμίας. For a discussion of this emendation, see the discussion of provision 9 below.

  11 This is the standard (in Dittenberger) emendation of the stone’s οτου.

  12 This translation starts with line 19: no sense can be made of the previous lines.

  13 There is a minor problem here. In lines 76–78 the law reads, [ἐξ]εῖναι δὲ δι[κάσ]ασθαι τῶι |[βουλο]μένωι ὡ[ς] περὶ δημοσί|[ων ἐν τ]ῶι δικα[σ]τηρίωι. In lines 84–85 the law reads, ἐξεῖν]αι δικ[άσ]ασθαι ὡς | [περὶ δημοσίων] χρημάτων. It is thus tempting to read lines 84–85 as an abbreviation of lines 76–78—that is to assume an implied τῶι βουλομένωι in provision 7. I have chosen, however, not to translate lines 84–85 based on that assumption. This results in regarding the infinitive δικάσασθαι as in the middle voice in line 76 (“to plead one’s case”) and in a passive sense in line 84 (“to be judged”). But even if lines 84–85 abbreviate lines 76–78 (i.e., there is an implied τῶι βουλομένωι), there is virtually no difference in meaning.

  14 The authors of IJG (II: 37) conclude that the law’s language is clumsy and impure—a quality that makes the text rather confusing. They further conclude that the provisions are inserted without order.

  15 One can only speculate about the content of these first lines. Friedel (1937: 84–85) suggests that, after some sort of prescript, the law articulated the legal position of a tyrant or oligarchic leader (e.g., he is atimos or polemios). Berve (1967: 422) suggests that the law stated that the tyrant can be killed; the tyrant’s relatives are banned forever (if not killed); the tyrant’s property and that of his family is confiscated; the Ilians must utter a curse on the tyrant and his family; the tyrant cannot be buried in Ilian soil. Koch (1996: 46n40) suggests that the first lines of the law would have contained a reference to the ruling king (which, according to Koch, was Seleukos I) or some explanation for why the Ilians promulgated such a law. Koch also suggests (1996: 47) that, in the lost opening section, there was an order to kill anti-democratic revolutionaries and an assurance of immunity for the assassin. Dössel (2003: 208) suggests that the opening lines ordered the confiscation of the anti-democratic leader’s property, provided guidelines on what must be done with the property, and deemed such a leader to be an outlaw.

  16 The meaning of enarchos is not immediately self-evident. IJG (II: 39) suggests that enarchos refers to a subject of Ilion’s empire (archē). Dittenberger (OGIS 218) argued that, in this law, enarchos simply means “citizen” since it is most logical to divide a Greek polis’s society into citizens, foreigners, and slaves. Dittenberger did suggest, however, that the use of the word enarchos to mean citizen indicates that, at some previous time, the Ilians had two citizenship statuses: high-level citizens (who were entitled to serve as magistrates) and low-level citizens (who were not so entitled). He cites the meaning of entimos as a potential parallel: it can mean “honored” or “in office” as well as (likely a later evolution) “eligible for honors or office.” Friedel (1937: 83–84), Frisch (1975: ad loc.), Berve (1967: 420), Koch (1996: 46), and Dössel (2003: 202) all agree that an enarchos is a full citizen (Vollbürger). Funck (1994: 321–22) understands the word enarchos as maintaining, in addition to its larger sense of citizen, the more limited sense of “in office.”

  17 Friedel (1937: 86) suggests that the grant of citizenship is made explicit because of problems that might arise; he notes the situation in Athens after the fall of the Thirty. For a brief discussion of the rewards given after the fall of the Thirty, see RO 4 and the accompanying commentary.

  18 Dittenberger (ad loc.), Frisch (ad loc.), and IJG (II: 40) concluded that the slave tyrannicide is given full citizenship rights. This is an understandable position: ἐπί]τιμος [ἔ]στω καὶ πολιτεί|[ας μ]ε[τεχέτω seems to suggest that. But several points argue against that conclusion. First, one might conclude that, just as a xenos tyrannicide is elevated one status level to become a politēs, a doulos tyrannicide is elevated one status level to become (in some sense) a xenos. (And note that Hansen [1998: 104] demonstrated that, in Athens, manumitted slave
s became registered as metics—i.e., not as citizens—with their former master as prostatēs.) Second, since the slave tyrannicide receives a smaller cash payment than a free foreigner does, one might also conclude that his other rewards were smaller; also, note that the slave receives neither sitēsis nor proedria, although both the citizen and free foreigner do. Third, the law does not explicitly state that a doulos would become a politēs, but it does say so with respect to the xenos tyrannicide (line 30). Fourth, the law does not simply say “participate in the regime” but “participate in the regime according to the law” (πολιτεί|[ας μ]ε[τεχέτω κατὰ τὸν ν]όμογ). Perhaps the Ilians had a law on the rights of freed slaves vis-à-vis their ability to participate in the regime. Both Friedel (1937: 87) and Berve (1967: 420) suggest that the slave tyrannicide was elevated to the status of a metic. Koch (1996: 48) suggests that the slave tyrannicide was given some sort of limited citizenship (“die vorgesehene Hereinnahme von Fremden und—wenn auch eingeschränkt—von Slaven in die Bürgerschaft”). And this appears to be the position of Funck (1994: 321). Dössel (2003: 202) does not comment, but translates ἐπί] τιμος [ἔ]στω καὶ πολιτεί|[ας μ]ε[τεχέτω κατὰ τὸν ν]όμογ as “so soll er die Ehrenrechte erhalten und das Bürgerrecht gemäss dem Gesetz.”

  19 Koch (1996: 51) asserts that the pardon covers only actions committed in common with other anti-democrats, not any private crime he may have committed. That is a reasonable position: the law does state (lines 49–51), “he shall not be punished for what he did with them.” But Koch’s interpretation might be overly subtle: the distinction might be difficult to make. On a different note, Maffi (2005: 142–43) raises the interesting question of how a tyrant-killing mercenary soldier might subsequently help “establish democracy.” He suggests that he would join exiled democrats in their fight to reclaim their polis.