Rome: A Civilization of Student-Athletes

As a student-athlete myself, I often hear the benefits of a fully rounded education, i.e. one involving athletics, touted. Members of the Athletic Department, coaches, sometimes even professors tell us of the great advantage we have, of the far superior education we are receiving by training not just our minds while at college but also our bodies.

I have always agreed with these sentiments. I certainly can see the life-long benefits of being an athlete; it is one of the reasons I made the decision to be a collegiate athlete. Commitment, discipline, loyalty, dedication, selflessness, leadership, the ability to put in an unbelievable amount of work for an often-distant goal. However, I always thought that the speeches I had heard in favor of athletics as a crucial part of becoming the best, most fully developed person one could be as somewhat weak. The sentiments were most often simply stated as fact and never fully explained. That’s why I was excited to read of a group that had finally gotten it right. The Romans.

In a particularly interesting section of The Conspiracy of Catiline, Sallust goes into detail about how Athens’ reputation benefited unduly from the presence of many great writers and how the Romans were, regardless, the superior civilization:

“But, assuredly, Fortune rules in all things. She makes everything famous or obscure rather from caprice than in conformity with truth. The exploits of the Athenians, as far as I can judge, were very great and glorious, yet something inferior to what fame has represented them. But because writers of great talent flourished there, the actions of the Athenians are celebrated over the world as the most splendid of achievements. Thus, the merit of those who have acted is estimated at the highest point to which illustrious intellects could exalt it in their writings.

But among the Romans there was never any such abundance of writers; for, with them, the most able men were the most actively employed. No one exercised the mind independently of the body; every man of ability chose to act rather than narrate, and was more desirous that his own merits should be celebrated by others, than that he himself should record theirs.” (emphasis my own) (The Conspiracy of Catiline:8)

What Sallust seems to me to be saying is spot-on. Only so much about life can be understood or appreciated through just observation and recording. At some point, you have to get out there and do something. This is where, if Sallust’s representation is to be believed, the Romans were very successful. Rather just sitting around in comfort and philosophizing about the state of the human soul like the Athenians, the Romans were constantly training their bodies, in addition to their minds, for war. They were traveling and conquering. They were not content to stay at home. They were insatiable.

Of course, I see the arrogance and ignorance inherent in this argument. The Athenians, lest the Romans forget, had an empire of their own; one that was not won by sitting around the Agora and talking. Also, this may very well be an idealized view of Roman culture, not taking into account the more practical and less idealized side of their position. And there is an obvious need for writers and historians in every culture. Otherwise why would I bother writing this blog at all?

However, these concerns must be set aside so the big picture can be seen. What the Romans are saying is that, without the body, the mind is not as strong as is could be. It is debatable to what extent this is true, but I would be willing to argue with anyone who says that one cannot learn invaluable life lessons on the racecourse or playing field. These are lessons that could never be taught in a classroom or read in a book. They are lessons that must be attained individually, through struggle, pain, triumph, and sometimes failure. Whether they come from the battlefield, as they did for the Romans, or from the racecourse, as they do for today’s athletic warriors, lessons learned from physical challenges are among, if not the, most important in life.

Train your mind. Train your body. Be insatiable. That is the lesson of the Romans.

Un-Democratic? Or TOO Democratic?

First of all, I would like to thank all who have commented on this blog and encourage more to do so. This is exactly why I wanted to start Classics Reloaded. It is easy enough to sit around by yourself, coming up with ideas, tossing them around your own head, with no one to challenge or support you, then moving on. I was hoping that this would be a place for me to do more than that. This will be for me a testing ground of sorts for different ideas, theories, etc. that I may come across. Ideally, I want this to be a conversation. I am just starting off in the field of classics. I know I have a lot to learn. It is my hope that this blog will be a place for me to share my thoughts and receive criticisms and encouragement from you, the readers.

That being said, the most recent comments on my last two posts, both on democracy in Athens, have really got me thinking. As I read them over, I realized that I do indeed need to take a closer, more critical look at my own thoughts on this topic. I believe that I may have been too hasty in my judgments of Athenian democracy. I think that I may have come out too strongly in my posts against the Athenians, sounding as though I was certain of the undemocratic nature of Athens rather than accurately conveying the state that I was in – one of questioning and doubt. I believe that the events that I discussed were intriguing occurrences in a democracy and warrant a closer look. I do not, however, claim to have the answers.

Looking more closely at my issues with the cases of Alcibiades and Nicias, I realize now that it is not the democracticness, as you might say, of Athens that I should be questioning, but rather, perhaps, the fairness, or justness of the system. (I am still searching for the correct word here, for neither of these are quite accurate.) The problem may not be that Athens was not democratic enough, but rather quite the opposite, that it was too democratic. With the citizens having the right and expectation to vote on quite literally everything, there were no checks on the swings of public opinion. If there was a particularly persuasive orator speaking against Alcibiades, he would be put to death. Is this wrong? Not technically. If that is what the people want, then, in a pure democracy, that must be what happens. Morally, however, it is easy, hopefully obvious, to take issue with this possibility. This very well may be a flaw in the system. One that was remedied with modern democracies, beginning with America. This is precisely why today we have a republic, not a true democracy. The legislature and judiciary, in essence, are in place to protect us from ourselves. I believe the necessity for this protection can, at times, be seen in ancient Athens.

Again, this is a topic that requires far, far more discussion than what has already taken place. I hope that anyone who has anything to contribute will post a comment. As you can see, I may at times, be a little too hasty to post my thoughts on here. That’s when I hope you will call me out on it. The comments here have forced me to reconsider my opinions, to take a closer look at stories I already thought I understood and find a more convincing argument. Hopefully with more time and research, I will yet again fine-tune my opinion on this and other topics. We shall see...

How democratic was Athens?

Since I've known what Ancient Greece was, I've known that Athenian democracy is touted as the great predecessor of our own American democracy and of all democracies, to some extent, throughout the world. This is a fact often taken for granted in studying the ancient world. It is very easy to make comparisons between the U.S. and Athens.

However, as I am learning more about the form of democracy developed and employed at the height of Athenian power, I am become more and more suspicious that this system may not be all it is cracked up to be. There are the obvious undemocratic aspects of Athens, such as slavery and the political and social repression of women. I am willing to leave these out of the equation, given that America, too, was guilty of these same crimes for the better part of her existence.

Apart from this, however, I am finding things that make me wonder how democratic this place really was. Several instances in the Peloponnesian War are particularly questionable. Take the case of Alcibiades, for example. The night before the great (but doomed) Athenian expedition to Sicily was to launch all but one of the Hermea in the city were mutilated. The Hermea, podiums with the head of Hermes and a phallus, were located all throughout the city calling on the god for protection from evil. Such a sacrilege, particularly the night before such a crucial expedition, was seen as a very bad omen for the mission and a grave crime that had to be punished. Although it still remains uncertain who was responsible for the acts, Alcibiades was accused. (His actual guilt or innocence is irrelevant to the point I am making with this story.) According to Thucydides in his History of the Peloponnesian War, Alcibiades denied the charges but requested to stand trial before leaving for Sicily. He begged the citizens not to listen to his enemies in his absence but rather try and, if necessary, put him to death right there while he could still defend himself. He even acknowledged “how unwise it would be to send him out in command of such a large army with such serious accusations still hanging over his head” (VI: 29). This seems like a very level-headed and fair thing for a man in such a position to say. However, the Athenians, so worked up about their attack on Sicily, were willing to overlook this offense for the sack of the mission. The Athenians decided, then, it would be best not to hold up the army. Alcibiades would sail with them and return in a set number of days to stand trial.

Does this sound very democratic to you? Because of his position of military and social prominence, Alcibiades was allowed to avoid trial. Eventually, after fighting for some time with Sicily, Alcibiades, rather than returning to Athens for his trial at the appointed time, deserted. He ended up becoming a key advisor and strategist for none other than the Spartans. Even if he wasn’t the one who mutilated the Hermea, he’s still probably not the kind of guy you want leading your army into an expedition of such a size and importance of that of the one headed for Sicily. (He then deserted Sparta and returned to, yes, you guessed it, Athens. And (get this!) he was reinstated as a general! How’s that for democracy?) The fact that the popularity of Alcibiades, as well as the influence of his enemies who wanted more time to gather incriminating evidence, was capable of overruling law, a fairly serious, religious law at that, says to me that this “democracy” still had a long way to go.

In my next post, I will look into another incident from the expedition to Sicily that brings into question the democratic nature of Athens: Nicias’ fear of the Athenian public, therefore courts, and his subsequent unwillingness to surrender.