Although birth, wealth, and education constituted undeniable trump cards, they were certainly no guarantee of political success to those who held them. Those who enjoyed such genealogical, economic, and cultural assets needed to make use of them without upsetting the dēmos. As he gradually made his way into political life, Pericles was acutely aware of this need.
A Gradual ENTRY INTO POLITICAL LIFE
The Khorēgia of Aeschylus’s Persians: Victory through Singing
Pericles tested out those various assets for the first time in 472 B.C., when he was just twenty-one or twentytwo years old. Thanks to an inscription engraved in the fourth century (IG II2 2318), which lists the victors in the Great Dionysia, we know that in that year he was designated a khorēgos and that he, in association with Aeschylus, was declared the victor. We thus know that Pericles was responsible for financing the tetralogy composed by the poet (three tragedies and one satyr play), which included The Persians, the most ancient tragedy to be preserved in toto and which set on stage Themistocles’ victory at Salamis.
What was the exact nature of this civic gesture? A khorēgos’s task was to recruit the best candidates for a chorus, which comprised between twelve and fifteen people; he also had to employ a professional to train the chorus-members, and provide a venue (a khorēgeion) sufficiently spacious for the chorus to rehearse its complex moves in comfort. Finally, his mission included providing material support for the entire cast and meeting the costs of the actual performance, in particular those of the masks and costumes. These were by no means negligible expenses: as far as we know, they ran to between 3,000 and 5,000 drachmas in the case of a tragic khorēgia.39 The fact that Pericles served as a khorēgos certainly indicates that he had already inherited the family fortune; by this date, Xanthippus must already have been dead.
We still need to understand exactly why Pericles felt obliged to take on this heavy responsibility when he had barely come of age. Of course, he may not have had any choice in the matter, for any wealthy Athenian could expect to have a khorēgia imposed upon him. All the same, it sometimes happened that citizens forestalled this so as not to appear to be forced into the task and also because they hoped that political advantages would accrue to them. The ambiguity of the system that obtained in Athens lay in the fact that liturgies—which included the khorēgia—were at once obligations imposed by the city and, at the same time, a means of winning popularity for the individuals who carried out those obligations with munificence.
If this duty, despite its costliness, carried a political advantage, it was because in consequence the khorēgos won esteem among his fellow-citizens. In the first place, before the dramatic representations took place, the khorēgos would occupy a prestigious position in the religious procession (pompē) that opened the Dionysia festival. He had the right to wear special clothing that made him stand out in the crowd; both Alcibiades and Demosthenes took care to make the most of this privilege. Furthermore, during the performance, the khorēgos did not necessarily remain silent. In the early fifth century, he himself might even act as the chorus leader and perform in the orchēstra;40 according to this hypothesis, Pericles himself may have led the chorus in The Persians and delivered the speech praising Athens that Aeschylus assigned to the chorus-leader! In that case, the young man would have been speaking in the name of the collectivity for the very first time, thereby anticipating his future role as orator. This may also help us to understand the importance that mousikē held in the education of this young man.
Finally, when the performance was over, the khorēgos would increase his prestige still further if he was victorious in the dramatic competition that brought the Dionysia to a close. The names of the victors, who were selected by a panel of ten judges, were announced before the whole community assembled in the theater. The laureates, crowned with ivy, were presented with a prestigious prize: a bronze tripod for the tragic choruses and possibly a ram for the winning poets. Sometimes the khorēgoi would present offerings to the gods in order to keep the memory of their success alive: Themistocles was said to have had a pinax (a wooden tablet) painted, to celebrate his victory in the tragedy competition, as khorēgos for the poet Phrynichus, in 477 B.C.
One further factor may have decided Pericles to volunteer as a khorēgos in 472. By preempting any summons addressed to him, the young man made a sensational entrance on to the public stage, even before reaching the age when he could hope for a magistracy. The fact was that Athenian citizens had to wait until they were thirty years old before they could assume even a minor city post. Making sure of a khorēgia was a way of getting around that agelimit and seizing an early start in the race to make a name for himself among the Athenians.41
Basking in the prestige of this triumph in the Dionysia, young Pericles made his mark in the post-Salamis Athens. All the same, though, his khorēgia should not be interpreted as a deliberately political gesture or a way of advertising his support for Themistocles, who was then facing growing opposition that, one year later, would lead to his ostracism. Although The Persians does praise the victor at Salamis indirectly, there is nothing to prove that Pericles had any say in the content of the play, which was the concern solely of the poet. Besides, it was the eponymous Archon that drew lots in order to assign a khorēgos to a dramatist.42 It was thus purely by chance that the young man found himself collaborating with a well-established author—namely, Aeschylus, who, since 485/4 B.C.,43 had already won several victor’s crowns. That first action needs to be evaluated correctly for, far from being a prefiguration of his political future, the 472 khorēgia was an opportunity for Pericles to highlight his wealth and his culture and, at the same time, show that he was using them for the greatest benefit of the community.
The Lawsuit against Cimon: Presenting Himself as an Opponent
After that first burst of glory, Pericles remained in the shadows for several years. Was it for fear of being ostracized as his father, Xanthippus, had been? That is Plutarch’s version of the matter (Pericles, 7.1), but it is not possible to corroborate what he says. However, the young man did not remain inactive, for he proved his attachment to the city on the battlefield: again according to Plutarch, “he was courageous in warfare and willingly risked his life.”44 His real entry into political life was deferred for a while, but eventually it came about following an extremely spectacular lawsuit. As the Pseudo-Aristotle notes in his Constitution of the Athenians (27.1): “Having first distinguished himself when still a young man he challenged the audits of Cimon, who was a general.”45
This came about in 463 B.C., when Pericles had just turned thirty. At this time, Cimon held great influence in the city, particularly since Themistocles had been ostracized in 471. Cimon, who was elected repeatedly as stratēgos, was at this time playing a prominent part in every military campaign. He led the expedition that came to the aid of Sparta after the Helots, dependents of the Spartans, taking advantage of the great earthquake that occurred in 464, had revolted against their masters. By 465, he was already to be found heading the siege of Thasos, an island in the northern Aegean that was trying to free itself from the Delian League.
In 463, while the campaign against Thasos dragged on, Cimon had to face a lawsuit centering on his rendering of accounts, an obligation that affected all magistrates.46 The stratēgos was accused of accepting bribes from the king of Macedon, who was anxious to protect his kingdom from Athenian attacks. The prosecution, which was led by Pericles, came to nothing, for an obvious enough reason: up until the reforms of Ephialtes, passed by vote in the following year, renderings of accounts were all judged by the Areopagus, which was the principal supporter of Cimon’s policies!
Over and above the issue of this trial, which proved favorable to Cimon, this anecdote testifies to the general role played by prosecutions in the construction of political reputations: prosecutions were above all the business of young ambitious men. While assuming the position of a prosecutor was a way to make one’s name swiftly, in the long run it was a
difficult position to maintain. To remain a prosecutor for too long was to risk being regarded as a sycophant, a professional prosecutor.47 While such “sycophants” were necessary to the functioning of democracy, given the absence of any public prosecution service in Athens, they were at the same time detested because they acted for their own personal profit, in that they could receive a percentage of the fines imposed if the verdict was guilty.48
The reasons why Pericles involved himself personally in this process remain to be determined. Was he motivated by purely political aspirations, as an honest defender of the interests of the people? That is by no means certain. Between Cimon’s lineage and that of Pericles, there was a long tradition of rivalry or even animosity that dated from the mid-sixth century, when their respective ancestors had battled to win the hand in marriage of Agariste, the daughter of the tyrant of Sicyon, a struggle in which the Alcmaeonid Megacles had emerged as victor. Furthermore, in 493, the Alcmaeonids had accused Miltiades, Cimon’s father, of exercising tyranny in the Chersonese.49 Finally, in 489, Xanthippus brought a second lawsuit against Miltiades, following the disastrous expedition to Paros: Pericles’ father had identified himself with the antipathies of his in-laws, to the point of himself being tarred by the Alcmaeonids’ sinister reputation.50 In the lawsuit brought against Cimon, it is therefore hard to determine the respective parts played by private quarrels and political motivations.
However, the fact is that, after this unsuccessful political debut, Pericles seems rapidly to have acquired influence by helping to establish “the reforms of Ephialtes” in the very next year, which marked a decisive step forward in the process of the city’s democratization. Nevertheless, despite the declarations to be found in the fourth-century sources, the young man’s collaboration in this important institutional change is far from certain.
The Reforms of Ephialtes: Overshadowed by Pericles
In 462, Cimon set off, with a large force of hoplites, to help the Spartans, who were engaged in a struggle against the revolt of their Helots. Making the most of his absence, the Athenians adopted sweeping political reforms at the instigation of the democratic leader, Ephialtes. Most of the powers of the Areopagus, the old aristocratic council of Athens, were redistributed among popular institutions—the Assembly, the Council, and the law courts—thereby sparking off the effective democratization of the city. On his return, Cimon was unable to reverse the situation and eventually was even ostracized.
Although the ancient authors do all mention the role played in this episode by Ephialtes, they tend to treat him as a mere puppet who implemented the intentions of others. According to the Constitution of the Athenians, Ephialtes was secretly manipulated by Themistocles; but that is chronologically impossible, for Themistocles had been ostracized almost ten years previously! And when Plutarch mentions the reform (Pericles, 9.4), he portrays Ephialtes as a handy screen for the illustrious Pericles, who could already be glimpsed in Xanthippus’s young son. Relegated to the shadows cast by two great men—Themistocles upstream and Pericles downstream—Ephialtes was soon eclipsed in the political memory of Athens.51
That effacement can certainly be explained by the reformer’s premature disappearance. Soon after carrying off this great political victory, Ephialtes was killed “by night, in circumstances that remain obscure.”52 According to a tradition that goes back to Idomeneus of Lampsacus, a close disciple of Epicurus, Pericles was not uninvolved in this sordid affair. It is suggested that he “cunningly assassinated [or arranged for the assassination of] Ephialtes, the demagogue, who had been his friend and companion in political action, simply because he was jealous and envied Ephialtes’ popularity [doxa].”53 But, as Plutarch suggests, in all probability, those were mere baseless rantings. This serious allegation, reported one hundred and fifty years after the event, is certainly intended to blacken the reputation of Pericles, the “demagogue.” But, quite apart from its doubtful veracity, Idomeneus’s accusation reflects a more general tendency of the ancient sources: they are prone to credit famous men with all important actions, whether positive or negative, that occurred in their own lifetimes.
In effect, the Epicurean polemicist simply adopts the line of thinking used by the ancient authors in their analyses of Ephialtes’ reforms themselves: given that some of them ascribe to Pericles a secret influence in this episode, why not postulate his complicity in Ephialtes’ assassination?
From this point of view, Idomeneus’s line of argument is no more well-founded—or ill-founded—than the suggestions of the Pseudo-Aristotle or those of Plutarch. All these theories about plots are, by their very nature, impossible to prove. In truth, this entire historiographical construction centered on Pericles should be considered as doubtful: not only is the implication that Pericles had a hand in murdering Ephialtes highly improbable, but his supposed role in the reforms introduced in 462 B.C. is equally hypothetical.54
When they deny Ephialtes the status of a protagonist, it is in truth the Athenian people that the ancient authors are leaving in the shadows so as to focus exclusively on the dazzling aura surrounding the great man. It was not until the 450s—or even the early 440s—that Pericles truly set his mark on Athenian political life. It was only after this gradual entry into political life that he began to be elected stratēgos on a regular basis.
CHAPTER 2
The Bases of Periclean Power: The Stratēgos
“Pericles son of Xanthippus, the foremost man of the Athenians at that time, wielding greatest influence both in speech and in action, came forward and advised them.”1 Those are the words with which the historian Thucydides introduces the Athenian leader at the moment when, in 431 B.C., the city is about to engage in war against Sparta. At this point, the historian defines the two domains that constitute the basis of the superiority of a statesman: speech and action. And it was indeed as an orator in the Assembly, expert in handling logos, and as a stratēgos in warfare, well accustomed to military command, that Pericles dominated Athenian political life for twenty or so years.
Military leader and orator: those are the two indissociable aspects of Periclean power. They rest upon a common basis, the office of a stratēgos. It was as a stratēgos, reelected time after time, that Pericles led the Athenians in warfare, showered with all the laurels of military glory; and it was also as a stratēgos that he was in a position to participate in the deliberations of the Council, influence its decisions and, in its name, propose the decrees that were then submitted to the vote in the Athenian Assembly.
Let us begin by shedding some light upon the institutional and military mainsprings of Pericles’ authority. After describing the function of a stratēgos and considering the reasons why the role played by this office was so crucial in Athens, it will be necessary to analyze the way in which Pericles set up a veritable policy for glory, even to the point of singing the praises of his own successes. His valor as head of the army and navy was, however, contested by his political opponents. It has to be said that the stratēgos had elaborated a new military ethos that to some extent broke away from the heroic ideal peculiar to members of the Athenian elite. Throughout his life, Pericles refused to engage in warfare unless it was absolutely necessary, even at the risk of being accused of cowardice by his opponents. This rule of behavior was applied in the most spectacular fashion at the start of the Peloponnesian War, when Pericles persuaded the Athenians to take refuge inside the town without doing battle with the Peloponnesian hoplites. It was certainly an effective strategy, but it was swiftly challenged.
THE REELECTED STRATĒGOS: A POPULAR MAGISTRATE
The Function of Stratēgos
The office of stratēgos, created right at the end of the sixth century, in 501–500, rapidly became the essential magistracy of classical Athens. The way that it operated was closely linked with the isonomic regime set in place by the reforms of Cleisthenes. The stratēgoi made up a college of ten magistrates, one for each tribe, and each elected for one year (Constitution of the Athenians, 22.2–3).
Their number and their designation therefore depended closely upon the new organization of the civic body into the ten tribes that had been created in 508/7.
Usually, the stratēgoi were recruited from among the well-to-do citizens; and the simple reason for this was that, to have a chance of being elected, one had to be capable of winning the confidence of the Athenians and this involved a certain degree of education, which was, by definition, costly. All the same, nowhere does any source suggest that any census-qualification affected the right to aim for a post as a stratēgos.2 In that there was no legal barrier that limited access to such a post, this new type of magistracy complied fully with the democratic practices that had been evolving progressively ever since 507 B.C.
The function of stratēgoi was to command the Athenian army, as indeed the etymology of the word suggests (stratos, the army, and agein, to lead). Once the Persian Wars were over, stratēgoi definitively supplanted the post of archon that had previously served this purpose: the polemarch was now marginalized and limited to ritual and legal functions.3 What is the explanation for the stratēgoi’s rapid rise to power? The fact that they had a double advantage over the other Athenian magistrates: not only were they elected by the Assembly (which strengthened their popular legitimacy), but, furthermore, they could be renewed in their post. Ever since 487, archons had, on the contrary, been selected by lot, and they could not remain in power for more than one year, after which they were admitted to the Council of the Areopagus as figures that were, to be sure, prestigious but who, ever since Ephialtes’ reforms in 462/461, had lacked any real powers.
Over and above their military vocation, the stratēgoi held a measure of ex officio political power. Although they could probably not convene the Assembly on their own initiative,4 on the other hand they did have the right to attend Council meetings, to speak in them, and, in so doing, to propose convening the Ekklēsia through action on the part of the prutaneis (the rotating Council leaders). This gave them influence over the political life of the city, especially given that their voices possessed particular weight in that they stemmed from the legitimacy of election—unlike those of members of the Boulē, who were selected each year simply by the drawing of lots.
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