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.

Give Me Liberty, or Give Me Death: The Melian Dialogue

In a class I am currently taking we were, in our study of Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian Wars, the Melian Dialogue (V: 84-116). This debate, between representatives of Athens and the council of Melos, takes place in 416 BC, right in the meat of the war. Melos, a small island city-state, while known as being sympathetic to Sparta, claimed neutrality in the war. (Recent evidence has suggested that at least some Melians did, in fact, pay tribute to Sparta. That can be looked into more in-depth later.) Athens, eager to secure all islands as allies in their domination of the seas, sailed to the island to demand their tribute, whether through debate or force. This dialogue consists basically of the Melians trying to convince the Athenians to let them remain neutral and the Athenians, in turn, demanding the Melians pay tribute and become their ally

In discussing this in class, I was shocked to discover that the vast majority of students, when polled, would have surrendered to the Athenians rather than fight had they been in the Melian council. I am certain that most, if not all of the students, were influenced by the outcome of the actual historical events – the Melians resisted and were eventually defeated; all the men were killed, the women and children sold into slavery, and their city repopulated by Athenians. Nevertheless, where was these students’ sense of pride and honor? Their respect for national freedom, even in the face of an overwhelming enemy? Especially in this classroom situation, where there is nothing really at stake, how could you not vote in favor of freedom??

This debate, and the hubris of the Athenians, reminded me of another similar historical event, one with a very different outcome. The American Revolution. True, there are some major differences; the American’s had no Sparta to fall back on, nor were the Melians a colony of Athens. However, the core of the Melians’ and Americans’ conundrum is the same: do you surrender to foreign rule in order to avoid destruction, or do you take up arms, despite a horribly unequal battle, to sacrifice everything to save your independence? When debating this issue from the Melians’ perspective, the phrase that I came back to again and again was one from Patrick Henry, “Give me liberty, or give me death.” I agree with the Melians. They had no choice but to fight. If freedom is not worth fighting for, what is? Henry would have agreed; “Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?” The Melians clearly did not think so. If the they had just handed over their city, an independent polis built up over 700 years, to the first oppressor that came by, they would have been undoing all the hard work of their predecessors. They would be selling freedom at far too low of a price. The Melians affirm this position, stating “we who are still free would show ourselves great coward and weaklings if we failed to face everything than comes rather than submit to slavery” (V:100).

It unnerves me that my peers, representative, I fear, of my generation, were so unwilling to send our imaginary Melians into battle in the name of freedom. Are we too comfortable today, confident that the freedoms we enjoy in America are permanent? Do we take these for granted? I hope not. Freedoms are never for certain and we must always willing to fight for them, regardless of the costs. Because, in answer to Patrick Henry, I say that a life bought by chains and slavery is not one worth living.