From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy: Athenian public finances and the formation of a competence elite in the 4th century BC 3476059200, 9783476059208

Table of contents :
Preface
Contents
1: Introduction
1.1 Public Finance: Ancient and Modern Concepts
1.2 Max Weber’s Honoratioren and Athenian Democracy: Analytical Framework and Approach
1.3 The Source Corpus: Documentation, Literary Reflection, and Material Evidence
1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft
2: Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding
2.1 The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens
2.1.1 A Right Is Only Worth as Much as It Can Be Exercised: The misthophoria
2.1.2 The System Is Self-Financing: Fines, Confiscations, Court Fees
2.1.3 Exploiting the “Natural” Resources: Revenues from Trade, Mining, and Metics
2.2 The Polis as a Community of Fate
2.2.1 Disability Pensions, Orphans’ Pensions, theorika: Support for the Needy
2.2.2 A Culture of Dependency: Securing the Grain Supplies
2.3 The Polis as a Cult Community
2.3.1 Not Only a Matter of Faith: The Religous Expenditures
2.3.2 Between demosion and hieron: Revenues from Sacred Property
2.4 The Polis as a Military Community
2.4.1 The Army: Citizen Hoplites, Mercenaries, and a Not-So-Elite Cavalry
2.4.2 Athens’ Pride and Joy: The Fleet
2.4.3 Tapping Foreign Sources: War Is Expensive, Yet Also Profitable
2.4.4 Diplomatic Expenditure
2.5 Results
3: The Counterexample: Sparta
3.1 The Thucydidean Legacy: The Source Situation
3.2 The Complexity of the Revenue and Expenditure Structure
3.3 The All-Dominant Discourse: The Ideology of Equality
3.4 The Invisible Actors: The Role of the Perioeci
3.5 Results
4: The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite
4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia
4.1.1 From an Extraordinary War Tax of All to a Regular Annual Tax of the Few: The eisphora
4.1.2 The Dependence of the Civic Community on the Liturgists
4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class
4.2.1 The Civil Strife in Rhodes 391
4.2.2 The Formation of a Liturgical Stratum
4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems
4.3.1 Liturgies as a Civic Duty
4.3.2 Prestige and the Gratitude of the Polis
4.3.3 Liturgies as Agonal Prosocial Behavior and as an Indicator of Leadership Qualities
4.4 Results
5: The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite
5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious Rhetor Distinguish Himself?
5.2 Turning Much into More by Turning Many into Few: The Commissioner of the Theoric Fund
5.3 A Changed Understanding of Offices: The Liturgization of Offices
5.4 A Democracy on an Unprecedented Scale: The Monumentalization of Public Buildings
5.5 The “Glue of Democracy”: The Discussion About the theorika
5.6 Results
6: Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety of Weber’s Honoratioren
Bibliography

Citation preview

From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy Athenian public finances and the formation of a competence elite in the 4th century BC Dorothea Rohde

From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy

Dorothea Rohde

From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy Athenian public finances and the formation of a competence elite in the 4th century BC

Dorothea Rohde Alte Geschichte Universität Bielefeld Bielefeld, Germany

ISBN 978-3-476-05920-8    ISBN 978-3-476-05921-5 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5 © Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 This book is a translation of the original German edition „Von der Deliberationsdemokratie zur Zustimmungsdemokratie“ by Rohde, Dorothea, published by Springer-Verlag GmbH, DE in 2019. The translation was done with the help of artificial intelligence (machine translation by the service DeepL. com). A subsequent human revision was done primarily in terms of content, so that the book will read stylistically differently from a conventional translation. Springer Nature works continuously to further the development of tools for the production of books and on the related technologies to support the authors. This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer-Verlag GmbH, DE, part of Springer Nature. The registered company address is: Heidelberger Platz 3, 14197 Berlin, Germany

Preface

This study represents the slightly revised version of my habilitation thesis, which was accepted by the Faculty of History, Philosophy and Theology at Bielefeld University in the summer semester of 2017. The completion of this work allows me to thank all those who have contributed to the process. I feel particularly indebted to Raimund Schulz, who accompanied the work with great interest and critical reading. No less due are my thanks to Uwe Walter for his benevolent advice and many suggestions. I would also like to thank Charlotte Schubert, who acted as an external reviewer and provided me with valuable advice. Armin Eich, Peter Funke, Sven Günther, Christian Mann and Mischa Meier also gave me helpful comments on parts of the paper or the manuscript as a whole. I would like to take this opportunity to express my sincere thanks to all of them. I would also like to express my sincere thanks to colleagues who have read different versions or discussed them intensively with me. Among them, Eva Baumkamp, Sven-Philipp Brandt, Ann-Cathrin Harders, Ivan Jordović, Christoph Michels and Maria Osmers deserve special mention. Of course, my greatest thanks go to Julian Gerke. This book is dedicated to patri optimo. Bielefeld, Germany February 2019

Dorothea Rohde

v

Contents

1

Introduction������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������   1 1.1 Public Finance: Ancient and Modern Concepts����������������������������������   4 1.2 Max Weber’s Honoratioren and Athenian Democracy: Analytical Framework and Approach������������������������������������������������������������������   7 1.3 The Source Corpus: Documentation, Literary Reflection, and Material Evidence ������������������������������������������������������������������������������  13 1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft ����������������������������������������������������������������������������  20

2

 Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-­ Understanding��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������  31 2.1 The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens ������������������������������������  33 2.1.1 A Right Is Only Worth as Much as It Can Be Exercised: The misthophoria��������������������������������������������������������������������  33 2.1.2 The System Is Self-Financing: Fines, Confiscations, Court Fees ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������  40 2.1.3 Exploiting the “Natural” Resources: Revenues from Trade, Mining, and Metics ����������������������������������������������������������������  45 2.2 The Polis as a Community of Fate������������������������������������������������������  53 2.2.1 Disability Pensions, Orphans’ Pensions, theorika: Support for the Needy������������������������������������������������������������  53 2.2.2 A Culture of Dependency: Securing the Grain Supplies��������  59 2.3 The Polis as a Cult Community����������������������������������������������������������  87 2.3.1 Not Only a Matter of Faith: The Religious Expenditures������  87 2.3.2 Between demosion and hieron: Revenues from Sacred Property���������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 100 2.4 The Polis as a Military Community���������������������������������������������������� 110 2.4.1 The Army: Citizen Hoplites, Mercenaries, and a Not-So-Elite Cavalry�������������������������������������������������������������� 111 2.4.2 Athens’ Pride and Joy: The Fleet�������������������������������������������� 118 2.4.3 Tapping Foreign Sources: War Is Expensive, Yet Also Profitable �������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 127 2.4.4 Diplomatic Expenditure���������������������������������������������������������� 132 2.5 Results������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 136 vii

viii

Contents

3

The Counterexample: Sparta�������������������������������������������������������������������� 139 3.1 The Thucydidean Legacy: The Source Situation�������������������������������� 140 3.2 The Complexity of the Revenue and Expenditure Structure�������������� 148 3.3 The All-Dominant Discourse: The Ideology of Equality�������������������� 154 3.4 The Invisible Actors: The Role of the Perioeci���������������������������������� 160 3.5 Results������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 169

4

 The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite ���������������������������� 171 4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia������������ 171 4.1.1 From an Extraordinary War Tax of All to a Regular Annual Tax of the Fewer: The eisphora���������������������������������� 171 4.1.2 The Dependence of the Civic Community on the Liturgists �������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 179 4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class�������� 196 4.2.1 The Civil Strife in Rhodes 391 ���������������������������������������������� 198 4.2.2 The Formation of a Liturgical Stratum ���������������������������������� 204 4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems ���������������������������� 212 4.3.1 Liturgies as a Civic Duty�������������������������������������������������������� 212 4.3.2 Prestige and the Gratitude of the Polis������������������������������������ 217 4.3.3 Liturgies as Agonal Prosocial Behavior and as an Indicator of Leadership Qualities������������������������������������������� 225 4.4 Results������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 229

5

 The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite �������������� 231 5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious Rhetor Distinguish Himself?�������������������������������������������� 233 5.2 Turning Much into More by Turning Many into Few: The Commissioner of the Theoric Fund���������������������������������������������������� 246 5.3 A Changed Understanding of Offices: The Liturgization of Offices�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 252 5.4 A Democracy on an Unprecedented Scale: The Monumentalization of Public Buildings ���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 260 5.5 The “Glue of Democracy”: The Discussion About the theorika�������� 265 5.6 Results������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 269

6

 Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety of Weber’s Honoratioren������������������������������������������������������������ 273

Bibliography�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 283

1

Introduction

A tour of Athens in the last third of the fourth century offered an ambivalent picture: lavish choragic monuments of wealthy Athenians and honors for generous donors testified to a public staging of individual prestige bought with private wealth, which seemed to break with egalitarian ideals. Did this reflect a class of Honoratioren that was to become typical of the Hellenistic period?1 At the same time, the meeting place of the assembly on the Pnyx grew to an unprecedented size that demonstrated the power of the demos to everyone from afar. Did the democratic institutions therefore operate unbroken?2 This ambiguous finding led to contradictory theses in scholarship: On the one hand, Athenian democracy of the fourth century was seen to be in crisis,3 since with regard to Hellenistic euergetism as a form of rule,4 it was assumed that democratic structures had lost vitality compared to the fifth century. On the other hand, no qualitative difference was recognized between the democracy of the fifth and fourth centuries5 – not least because even in the period before the Peloponnesian War individual personalities, particularly those predestined by education, dominated the

 On Honoratiorenschaft– or more generally on the concentration of power in the hands of an elite  – as a fundamental socio-political phenomenon of the (late) Hellenistic period, see Touloumakos (1967) 152–153. Deininger (1971) 17 with further reading. Davies (1981) 303–314. Gauthier (1985). Faraguna (1992) 381–394. Quass (1993). Habicht (1995b). Carsana (1996). Gehrke (2003) 193. Hamon (2007). Scholz (2008). 2  In this respect, the remarks of Schmidt-Hofner (2016) 337–339 are symptomatic, who notes the participation of broad sections of the population in political decision-making processes, and hence estimates the influence of a Honoratioren class to have been low. 3  Mossé (1962) and (1979a). Cf. for example also Bleicken (1995) 479, who assumes an alienation of the wealthy from democracy as a consequence of a perpetual financial shortage and a resignation of the demos, which he interprets as symptoms of a democratic crisis in the fourth century. 4  On euergetism as a form of rule, see Veyne (1976). 5  Rhodes (1980). Bleicken (1987) and (1995) 75–78. 1

© Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Rohde, From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5_1

1

2

1 Introduction

deliberations of the assembly.6 For this reason, two recent studies on Hellenistic democracies also leveled the sociopolitical importance of an elite known as the Honoratioren and rather emphasized the sovereignty of the people in the period after Alexander the Great.7 This allowed to reevaluate the Hellenistic period and to overcome the decadence model: If democracies also existed in Hellenistic times, then the Hellenistic period would have to be considered equal to the Classical period; thus, there could be no question of a decline of the polis in the fourth century.8 Considering the existence of Honoratioren, democratic structures, and the crisis of the polis world, however, we first need to separate three phenomena.9 First, judgmental terms are out of place in the analysis of historical developments; it is not per se a symptom of decline when a polity modifies its constitution. But the thesis of a crisis of the polis cannot be tied to a democratic constitution either – after all, there is no specific constitution inherent to the polis. Therefore, the existence of the polis as a form of communalization can justifiably be postulated up to the imperial period10; the Greek city did neither die at Chaeroneia nor at Actium. For this reason, secondly, Athens cannot serve as a model case against which all other polis constitutions must be measured.11 For ultimately, Athenian democracy was also always subject to change and never existed in a pure ideal-typical form. Of course the specific content of democracy changed as did what the respective contemporaries understood by it. Thirdly, the existence of Honoratioren in a democracy is not a paradox. Granted, the majority principle, so fundamental to democracy, is based on the equality of all citizens, and a ruling class whose influence is based on its socio-economic status hardly seems compatible with political equality in the normative

 This forms one of the main arguments also for a continuity of democracy into the middle of the second century in D. M. Lewis (1984) 57–58 and Habicht (1995b). See also Sect. 1.4 below. 7  Grieb (2008). Carlsson (2010). 8  Even before Grieb (2008) and Carlsson (2010), for example Gauthier (1985) and (1993a). Gruen (1993). Wörrle/Zanker (1995). Ma (1999) and (2003). Gehrke (2003) deconstructed the decadence model and emphasized the vitality of the Hellenistic polis in different aspects. 9  As a representative example, Schmidt-Hofner (2016) 339 cites the argumentative relationship between decline, democracy and Honoratioren: “Von einem schleichenden Verfall der Demokratie kann insofern nicht die Rede sein. Es ist daher auch davon auszugehen, dass die restaurative politische Kultur der Zeit vor und nach 338 von breiten Bevölkerungsschichten in Athen getragen wurde, nicht nur von einer konservativen Honoratiorenschicht.” Schmidt-­Hofner thus conceptualizes Honoratioren as a stratum that had a specific mentality and whose genesis he equates with a political crisis. As a symptom of decline, he names a clash of interests among political actors, while vitality is evidenced by a discourse of democracy. 10  Heller (2009). 11  But this is precisely what – implicitly or explicitly – all studies dealing with democracy in the Hellenistic period do; Classical Athens – meaning Periclean Athens – always forms the model of a democracy. So also Mann (2012) 22. 6

1.1  Public Finance: Ancient and Modern Concepts

3

understanding. In practice, however, democracies differ not only in form but also in degree.12 Honoratioren do not necessarily contradict the democratic constitution – especially if one defines them in the sense of Max Weber as an elite which, due to its material prosperity, is in a position to engage in full-time political-administrative activity and which, thanks to its social prestige, enjoys special political trust.13 This raises the fundamental question of how economic elites, administrative expertise, and democracy relate to each other. The present study is devoted to precisely this context in fourth-century Athens, which served as a hinge period between the fifth century, often viewed as the “golden age” of democracy, and the Hellenistic period characterized by powerful kings. In this context, an approach based on an examination of public finances is an obvious procedure: Athens’ defeat in the Peloponnesian War, the dissolution of the Delian League, and the vigorous expansion pushed forward by the resource-rich Macedonian king presented major financial challenges to the polis world, the management, and complexity of which required special expertise. At the same time, an examination of the relationship between finance and the democratic constitution provides insights into how contemporaries conceived their coexistence: What a political community deemed worthy of funding and how it financed those needs allows us to conclude the values underlying those decisions. In this context, a close analysis of community income and expenditure reveals the extent to which wealthy Athenians contributed to the functioning of democracy. From this, in turn, it is possible to assess the importance of private wealth in financing public tasks and the resulting socio-political consequences. An examination of Athens’ public finances in particular thus allows us to fathom the correlation between administrative expertise, democratic constitution, and economic elite.

 Today, a distinction is made between pseudo-democracies, which include, for example, dictatorships in which apparently democratic institutions, such as elections, exist; defective democracies, in which democratic structures exist, though with procedural deficits; and constitutions in which the essential features of democracy (for example, political participation of citizens, equality before the law, free elections, separation of powers) are realized. Nevertheless, even today there is no uniform understanding of democracy, which is why all attempts to measure democracy are always open to debate. – On the use of the term “pseudo-democracy”, see Weber (1917). On the theoretical concept of defective democracies, see Merkel et al. (2003). On democracy measurement, for example, T. Müller/Pickel (2007). 13  Therefore, Nippel (1980) 107 in referring to Weber can claim – although without further substantiating it –, that “die Demokratie [konnte] nicht ohne Honoratioren funktionieren”. Accordingly, he apparently uses a relatively broad concept of Honoratioren. In what follows, however, the term will be used more specifically. See in more detail below Sect. 1.2. On Nippel’s conception see also below Sect. 1.4. 12

4

1 Introduction

1.1 Public Finance: Ancient and Modern Concepts In the following, under the term “public finances” (τὰ κοινά/δημόσια sc. χρήματα)14 we subsume the expenditures and revenues of the polis, the resources of which were regarded as common property (κοινόν or δημόσιον)15 of the citizens. To this must be added sacred property (ἱερὰ χρήματα), over which the polis had final authority, though it was always treated separately.16 Accordingly, public finance comprised two areas: The first covered all transactions made from the collective resources of the civic community in order to achieve political goals. With these resource transfers, the polis took on military tasks to protect the civic community and safeguard its interests, ensured the provisioning of the citizens, and ensured the functioning of the democratic institutions. This also included the granting of privileges (honors for transporters or exporters, conferral of citizenship, or the ateleia) to secure grain imports – and thus the supply of the citizens with affordable food. Such incentive instruments often caused only minor costs (honorary inscriptions), but sometimes they claimed human resources (discussion or resolution of the ekklesia) or entailed hidden expenses in case of omitted revenues (ateleia).17 This shows that the analysis of public finances is more than a breakdown of the flow of money; rather, achievements and efforts that consisted of personal effort and lost income also played a role. This is even more true in the area of revenue. Here, all transactions of resources and claims to resources are included which benefited the political community, increased its stock of resources, and guaranteed its ability to act.18 This included the disposal of natural resources and collective property as well as the financial inflow from fees or cheapened imports of goods and payments from outside. At the same time, however, it also comprised all the financial efforts that individuals (voluntarily or involuntarily) took upon themselves to implement such tasks as were understood to be communal. Among the most important expenditures of the polis were, for example, large building projects, fortifications, the remuneration of magistrates, jurors, and members of the assembly, or the support of war orphans. These tasks were unproblematic; there was a broad basic consensus about them. However, two items were always subject to discussion: the war costs and the festival payment (theorika). On the one hand, therefore, the decisive factor is the selection and evaluation of the expenditures by the political decision-makers, who pursued specific interests. Questions concerning who the decision-makers were, whom the expenditures benefited, and what goals they were intended to achieve are thus of a highly political nature. On the other hand, political actors assessed not only the nature of the  Cf. for example Aristoph. Plut. 569. Xen. hell. 6,5,34 and An. 4,7,27.  The two terms make clear the collective property idea in which every citizen had a share. See, for instance, on κοινόν Hdt. 7,144,1. Thuc. 6,6,3. 6,17,3. 8,1,2 and on δημόσιον, for instance, Thuc. 6,31,3 and 5. 1,73. Demosth. or. 21,182. 16  See Sect. 2.3.2 below. 17  On tax reliefs as tax expenditures, see Scherf (2011) 13. 18  Cf. Hedtkamp (1980) 75. 14 15

1.1 Public Finance: Ancient and Modern Concepts

5

revenue but also, and more importantly, who was liable to pay the levy and which base was used to determine the tax rate. The silver deposits, e.g., provided Athens with several ways of influx, and metics had to pay certain taxes during their stay. Also, in times of need the assembly would decide on a direct property tax (eisphora), and certain religious, social, and military services for the community were taken over as liturgy by the approximately 1200 wealthiest Athenians. Thus, socio-political forces and cultural patterns of behavior were decisive for the structure and degree of utilization of public revenues. These political elements of income and expenditure were an expression of a specific way of thinking, which in turn was fed by endogenous and exogenous factors. For no political community can act in isolation, but they always stand in multilateral relations of communication, exchange, and conflict. The specific nature, as well as the socially constructed content of thought and feeling are manifested in political actions, which therefore can be understood as expressions of a political mentality. The dependence of political mentality on the historical context is particularly striking in matters of tax collection, which is the most important revenue item of modern states: In the modern era, the formation of representative democracy was closely linked to the development of taxation. Those who paid taxes also demanded political rights: “No taxation without representation!”19 Moreover, in modern democracies, general taxation is based on the ability-to-pay principle; everyone should pay taxes according to his or her means. Both of these principles only partially applied to the Athenians. But is it even possible to use the term “tax” for ancient Greece? The primary characteristics of a tax constitute a transfer of resources to the political community through a sovereign act without any claim to service in return.20 Thus, two actors are involved in the transfer of property: the taxpayer and the tax beneficiary.21 Taxes in the modern sense of “monetary payments that do not a return for a particular benefit and are imposed by a public-law community for the purpose of raising revenue on  In 1628, in the Petition of Right, Parliament urged the English King to recognize Parliament’s sovereign right to tax and levy. These rights were incorporated into the Bill of Rights in 1689. In December 1773, the protest of the North American colonists against the fiscal decisions of the British Parliament found expression in the Boston Tea Party. The colonists had long felt it unjust that they should pay taxes on which they themselves could not vote. The distance from the mother country did not allow them to exercise civil rights in elections and directly influence the composition of a representative body. Resistance to this was formed, which as early as 1768 was succinctly subsumed under “no taxation without representation” [London Magazine (August 1768) 89] and demanded the sending of their own deputies. This connection between direct political participation and the sovereign right to taxation was deemd of great importance in the ensuing War of Independence. The formation of representative democracy was therefore closely linked to the development of taxation. Those who paid taxes also wanted to be able to participate in the political decision-making process. See Political Register’s Demophoon: A Dissertation on the original Dispute between Great-Britain and her Colonies (1770) 157. See http://www.notaxationwithoutrepresentation.com/ (last accessed 27/04/2014). – Today, the control of budget remains the most important prerogative of Parliament. 20  Hedtkamp (1980) 75. Schmidt (1980) 120. 21  Schmidt (1980) 120. 19

6

1 Introduction

all”,22 had no equivalent in fourth-century B.C. Athens. Nevertheless, modern literature often operates with terms as “tax”, “imposta” or “impôt” when referring to liturgy, i.e. the personal and financial services rendered to the community.23 In the sense of the above definition, this terminology does not meet the characteristics of liturgy, since nowadays taxes are paid in money.24 However, the content of the transfer of resources would seem only a secondary characteristic of taxes; the restriction to monetary levies is a characteristic of the modern state: It seems at least debatable not to subsume payment in kind or compulsory services under taxes.25 If, then, the content of the transfer (money or in kind or personal effort) is of secondary importance for the classification as tax, while the criteria of compulsion, unilateral determination of the amount by the state and lack of consideration are decisive, do leiturgiai then exhibit the typical characteristics of taxes? Looking at the material side, this would indeed seem to be the case. Yet, a closer look reveals that the provision of liturgy was nevertheless linked to a return, which, however, was not precisely defined and could not be quantified: liturgists who took care of choregies or trierarchies for the polis, for example, also did so in the awareness that they were entitled to gratitude and social prestige. Moreover, in fourth-century Athens, those obliged to and those entitled to pay taxes are not as clearly distinguished as it we would expect from our modern perspective: for in the ekklesia, all citizens could participate in deciding who was to pay which levies and for what purpose; not every participant in the assembly had to render services to the community, but every citizen who had to render services could participate in the assembly.26 There is a danger, then, that superficial similarities may lead us to lump together phenomena that ultimately have nothing in common and thereby prevent a deeper understanding of specific ancient conditions: Thus in a number of European languages, the metoikion, the eisphora, and the leiturgia are simply called taxes.27 It is true that the eisphora, being a monetary levy determined by the assembly, indeed corresponds to an irregularly levied tax on property, but the so-called metoikion or metic-tax  – despite its modern name – is more likely to represent a city tax (i.e., a fee).28 And  AO 1977 § 3 para. 1: “Steuern sind Geldleistungen, die nicht eine Gegenleistung für eine besondere Leistung darstellen und von einem öffentlich-rechtlichen Gemeinwesen zur Erzielung von Einnahmen allen auferlegt werden, bei denen der Tatbestand zutrifft, an den das Gesetz die Leistungspflicht knüpft; die Erzielung von Einnahmen kann Nebenzweck sein.” 23  See note 27 below. 24  AO 1977 § 3 para. 1. 25  Schmidt (1980) 121. Scherf (2011) 166. 26  The division into passive and active tax subjects therefore applies only to the non-citizens in Athens, who were compelled to pay taxes without any claim to consideration. 27  Cf. for example the lemmas in the DNP, Dictionnaire de l’Antiquité and in the EAH on the eisphora Schmitz (1997) 930: ‘extraordinary direct tax on wealth’. Bertrand (2005) 1267: ‘l’impôt sur le capital’. Schmitz (2013) 2344: ‘extraordinary direct property-tax’. Garnett (2013a) 4119: ‘emergency tax’. On leiturgia Garnett (2013a) 4119 (on leiturgia of proeisphora): ‘tax’. On metoikion Cartledge (2000b) 104: ‘poll tax’. Jacquemin (2005) 1409: ‘impôt’. Garnett (2013b) 4482: ‘metic-tax’. 28  See below Sect. 2.1.3, note 134. 22

1.2 Max Weber’s Honoratioren and Athenian Democracy: Analytical Framework…

7

leiturgia can only be called a tax reasonably if one leaves out the immaterial rewards. On the other hand, the two-percent import or export duty known as pentekoste would have to be included under taxes in the modern sense.29 In the following, therefore, the expenditures and revenues of the polis will not be analyzed according to modern principles or arranged along to administrative-fiscal lines. Instead, categories are formed with regard to the question of which selfunderstanding of the civic community is manifested in the financial, indeed highly political decisions. This is based on the assumption that a decision always represents a conscious choice for a certain – and against another – option. Accordingly, the study of public finances is suitable for tracing socio-political developments and, in particular, for illuminating the connection between democracy, economic elite and administrative expertise as parameters for the genesis of Honoratioren.

1.2 Max Weber’s Honoratioren and Athenian Democracy: Analytical Framework and Approach Honoratioren as an analytical category go back to Max Weber, who, however, did not write a coherent account on that subject. Rather, he outlined this specific form of elite with a few notes in his remarks on the sociology of rule (and infrequently in “The City”). Among other, shorter remarks, the largest section is found in the first part on structural forms and functional modes of rule. There, in the second paragraph, “Direct Democracy and Rule by Honoratiorens,” Weber summarizes the three essential characteristics of the Honoratioren.30 First, in Weberian terminology, Honoratioren are citizens whose wealth enables them to be continuously active in politics or administration without remuneration. Economic independence is therefore an essential characteristic of these ‘economic’

 AO 1977 § 3(3): “Einfuhr- und Ausfuhrabgaben […] sind Steuern im Sinne dieses Gesetzes.”  Weber (1922a) 141–142: “Hence in the measure in which those who have to work are becoming unable to get away from it, direct democratic administration will tend to turn into rule by notables (honoratiores). We have already met the type as that of the bearer of a special social honor connected with the mode of living. Here we now encounter another indispensable requirement, viz., that capacity to take care of social administration and rule as an honorific duty which derives from economic position. Hence we shall tentatively define honoratiores as follows: Persons who, first, are enjoying an income earned without, or with comparatively little, labor, or at least of such a kind that they can afford to assume administrative functions in addition to whatever business activities they may be carrying on; and who, second, by virtue of such income, have a mode of life which attributes to them the social “prestige” of a status honor and thus renders them fit for being called to rule. Frequently such rule by honoratiores has developed in the form of deliberating bodies in which the affairs to be brought before the community are discussed in advance; such bodies easily come to anticipate the resolutions of the community or to eliminate them and thus to establish, by virtue of their prestige, a monopoly of the honoratiares.” [emphasis in original] – Athens is of no consideration in his argumentation, while he assumes without further justification that in Rome an Honoratiorenschaft of the nobiles was in power, cf. for example Weber (1922a) 182–183, 207 and 551. 29 30

8

1 Introduction

Honoratioren.31 If we further take into account that those less well-off are not excluded in principle from taking up office, but access is in fact made more difficult for them since offices are unpaid (or almost unpaid), then those financially independant have greater opportunities to participate in the administration of the community. If, in addition, the tasks of the community become more differentiated and even require special expertise, a socio-political elite may develop that is able to perpetuate its position based on its expertise.32 This raises two questions: Was administrative activity in Athens in the fourth century (as well as in the fifth century) remunerated? And if so, were there political-administrative fields that were specialized to such an extent that one had to be continuously politically active to acquire the necessary expertise? Secondly, according to Weber, notables – or: Honoratioren – are characterized by honor (honos),33 which they obtain in return for their services to the community.34 In doing so, they behave prosocially because, on the one hand, communityrelated services are anchored as a duty in the general canon of values. On the other hand, their commitment is rewarded with public honors. Such perception of behavior by a manageable public and the communication about it as preconditions for social esteem may also explain Weber’s otherwise unfounded observation that moderately large city-states generally tend towards the formation of an economically defined elite endowed with prestige.35Accordingly, the fundamental question to be asked is in what ways the economic elite in Athens engaged with the community, and what significance was attached to the financial and temporal investment in terms of society as a whole. On what discursive basis were services to the community demanded and were they rewarded by prestige?

 Weber (1922a) 144 and 354. Their wealth and authority is often – but not exclusively – based on land ownership, ibid. 333 and 343. He locates this type of ‘landlordish’ Honoratioren in Archaic and early Classical times (ibid. 381). – It is in this sense that Nippel (1980) 107 apparently uses the term Honoratioren when he asserts, without further substantiation, that “die Demokratie nicht ohne Honoratioren funktionieren [konnte], die weitgehend für die Politik lebten.” 32  Weber (1922a) 145: “The growing complexity of the administrative tasks and the sheer expansion of their scope increasingly result in the technical superiority of those who have had training and experience, and will thus inevitably favor the continuity of at least some of the functionaries. Hence, there always exists the probability of the rise of a special, perennial structure for administrative purposes, which of necessity means for the exercise of rule. As mentioned before, this structure may be one of honoratiores acting as equal ‘colleagues,’ or it may tum out to be ‘monocratic,’ so that all functionaries are integrated into a hierarchy culminating in one single head. 33  Weber (1922a) 252. 34  However, for Weber, there are different types of Honoratioren depending on which factors (for example, property or knowledge) determine their honor, cf. (1922a) 252. Therefore, there are also Honoratioren armies that claim military honor for themselves (ibid. 272). If military honor is combined with further economic and social criteria, warriors form a  Honoratiorenschaft as in Sparta. In the same way, he can speak of “feudal or official Honoratioren” (ibid. 505). 35  Weber (1922a) 177 and 226. 31

1.2 Max Weber’s Honoratioren and Athenian Democracy: Analytical Framework…

9

Thirdly, Honoratioren can reach a leadership position because their social esteem gives them the confidence to take on certain offices and they are considered particularly competent due to their experience.36 Thus, a fusion of the socio-economic and the political elite is characteristic, as is an informal power structure based on prestige and expert knowledge. Weberian Honoratioren thus influence decisions relevant to the community not based on institutions but on the basis of their prestige.37 For this very reason, they are also integrable into a democracy, as they can convey their views, especially – but not only – in pre-consultative bodies, in such a way that their advice is followed.38 Therefore, it must be asked: What was the basis for political influence in the fourth century? Moreover, were there bodies the members of which were part of a socio-­political elite and who could predefine certain decisions to the citizens? And if so, how could the existence of a socio-political elite wielding such informal influence be reconciled with democracy? If we attempt to operationalize these considerations and questions within the framework of an analysis of public finances and thus to structure the investigative relationship between economic elite, administrative expertise, and democratic constitution, the following approach emerges: The first step is to state the findings. In the context of a “state budget”, expenditures and revenues are universal categories only on a very formal level and may be presented in the form of a tabular “balance sheet”. In any concrete historical figuration, however, they are also an expression of a political process of opinion-forming shaped by traditions, foreign policy claims to power, and notions of solidarity within the civic community. What communities spend their resources on and how they obtain these financial resources is directly related to the question of how actors perceive and judge foreign policy constellations or social situations. In this context, the self-image of the political community plays a considerable role. Hence, a specific, historically developed expenditure and revenue structure is formed, that is an

 Ibid. 142.  Ibid. 252. 38  Ibid. 142. 36 37

10

1 Introduction

expression of political discourses and in turn guides political decisions.39 Accordingly, the guiding question is what democratic self-image can be gleaned from the way public finances are handled.40 In doing so, this chapter forms the material basis for the two further steps of the investigation. It thus seeks to clarify the criterion that is significant for Weber’s definition of Honoratioren, namely whether Athenian citizens received an expense allowance (as in the fifth century) for their political participation. At the same time, the precise overview of public revenues and expenditures should allow an assessment of whether this political-administrative field required special knowledge in order to ensure founded advice to informed actors. The study then turns to the social consequences of the specifically Athenian way of having common tasks financed by wealthy citizens. The aim is to define the group of people liable to pay taxes and to estimate their share of the total financing volume in order to determine the material significance of the economic elite for the functioning of the political community. Particular attention is paid to the question, fundamental to the definition of Honoratioren, to what extent the economic elite was potentially able to transform its personal and monetary contributions to the polis into social esteem within a civic community based on political equality, without breaking the basic social consensus. This requires analyzing how material performance of the citizen and immaterial consideration of the citizenry were encoded as values in communicative processes to produce desired behavior. The third step of analysis is devoted to the political-administrative aspect of public finance. It examines whether the economic elite succeeded in transforming its social prestige into a position of political leadership. In this context, it is significant in which area aspiring orators acquired their expertise in a resource-intensive manner in order to distinguish themselves in the public sphere and to recommend themselves for a position of opinion leadership. Therefore, the financial offices created

 The financial sociologist Rudolf Goldscheid (1926) 148 is famous for his dictum according to which “das Budget gleichsam das aller verbrämenden Ideologie entkleidete Gerippe des Staates darstellt”. Cf. also Schumpeter (1918) 4: “Vor allem ist die Finanzgeschichte jedes Volkes ein wesentlicher Teil seiner Geschichte überhaupt: Ein ungeheurer Einfluss auf das Völkerschicksal geht von dem wirtschaftlichen Aderlass aus, den die Bedürfnisse des Staates erzwingen, und von der Art, wie das Ergebnis dieses Aderlasses verwendet wird. Der unmittelbar formende Einfluss der Finanzbedürfnisse und der Finanzpolitik der Staaten weiters auf die Entwicklung der Volkswirtschaft und damit auf alle Lebensformen und Kulturinhalte erklärt in manchen Geschichtsperioden so ziemlich alle großen Züge der Dinge und in den meisten sehr viel davon – nur in wenigen nichts.” Similarly, Bleicken (1995) 291 on ancient conditions: “Manche Bereiche des staatlichen Lebens sind selbst bei grundsätzlich verschiedener Verfassungsform doch gleich oder ähnlich organisiert, wie etwa das Kriegswesen oder Götterkult bei dem Wechsel von einer oligarchischen zu einer demokratischen Regierungsform keiner oder nur geringfügiger Änderung der diesen Bereichen zugrunde liegenden Organisationsprinzipien bedürfen. Andere Gebiete staatlicher Tätigkeit sind hingegen so eng mit der jeweiligen politischen Grundordnung verbunden, dass sie deren Wesen in ihrem formalen Aufbau widerspiegeln und darum auch eine Änderung dieser Ordnung nicht unbeschadet überdauern. Das öffentliche Finanzwesen gehört zu den letzteren […].” 40  Consequently, the focus is solely on public finances at the polis level; the deme level is of only selective relevance to this question. 39

1.2 Max Weber’s Honoratioren and Athenian Democracy: Analytical Framework…

11

in the mid-fourth century should also be examined in terms of their tenure, competences, and possibilities of influence in comparison to other administrative tasks. In addition, special attention is paid to the constitutionally relevant question of how these magistracies fitted into the general institutional development and related to the democracy claiming the sovereignty of discourse. In terms of chronology, the present study of the interrelationship of economic elite, administrative expertise and democracy by means of access to public finances ranges from the fall of the “Thirty Tyrants” (403) to the exile of Demetrius of Phalerum (307). These turning points mark a period of almost one hundred years, which in economic, political, and social terms proved to be a hinge epoch between the democracy based on the revenues of the Delian League and the timocracy established under foreign political pressure. The collapse of the Athenian maritime empire meant enormous financial losses compared to the foreign policy acme thirty years earlier: thus, immediately before the Peloponnesian War (433/2), the Athenians were able to collect about 600 talents annually41 as the revenues of their ἀρχή in the form of tribute, customs duties from overseas possessions, booty, or leases of land outside Attica.42 The phoroi alone at this time (433/2) amounted to nearly 390 talents.43 Altogether, including the 400 talents from internal revenues, the polis had about 1000 talents at its disposal each year.44 These high revenues finally came to a halt with the dissolution of the naval alliance and the delivery of the fleet. The strained financial situation became even worse in the course of the fourth century, as military innovations such as the spread of mercenary forces, innovative – yet costly – weaponry, the geographical and temporal expansion of land and sea wars, and the rise of resource-rich military monarchies made warfare more expensive. These costs were nearly settled with the defeat in the Lamian War when Athens for the last time would pursue an independent foreign policy by military means. Much like the defeat in the Peloponnesian War, that of 322 had serious domestic consequences: In 404, oligarchic forces came to power with the help of the Spartans, whose rule, however, could only be maintained through terror and was already broken after eight months – a clear sign that an oligarchic constitution had no support among the population at large. Yet, the situation was entirely different after the defeat in the Lamian War when Antipater forced the Athenians to change the

 Thuk. 2,13,3. Plut. Aristeides 24,3.  Thuk. 1,117,3. IG I3 61 l. 39–42. 369 l. 42. Gabrielsen (2007) 263. 43  IG I3 279. 44  Xen. an. 7,1,27 for the year 432/1. In 432/1 Aristophanes (Vesp. 656–660) even speaks of a total of 2000 talents that arose as income from the arche. See in detail Spielvogel (2001) 105–117. – On the internal revenues cf. for example Aristoph. Vesp. 656–660. IG I3 421–430. Kallet (1998) 44 and 46. – The so-called Thoudippos’ decrees (425/4) then even set (little more than) 1460 talents as tribute, of which, however, not all could be collected. IG I3 71 l. 61–181. Brun (1983) 24. Pritchard (2012) 41. – After all, Athens is said to have collected 1200 talents in the time after the Peace of Nicias (And. 3,8–9), which roughly corresponds to the 1300 talents that Plutarch (Aristeides 24,3) states for the time after the death of Pericles. 41 42

12

1 Introduction

democracy into a timocratic order in 321.45 The declared aim was to exclude the poorest citizens from political decision-making as supposed warmongers.46 These purposes were fulfilled by a census of 2000 drachmas: About 12,000 men lost their citizenship, which henceforth was held by only about 9000 Athenians.47 After the death of Antipater in 318, there followed again a short period of freedom and democracy, guaranteed by Polyperchon and for which Phocion was to give his life.48 In the course of this, the Athenians sided with Cassander, who again appointed a henchman in 317: Demetrius of Phalerum.49 He again established a timocracy, which, however, was more moderate than the previous one: this time, the minimum census for citizenship was a moderate 1000 drachmas.50 Neither Phocion nor Demetrius saw themselves as anti-democrats; in fact, Phocion had previously been elected strategos a total of 45 times,51 enjoyed the confidence of the people after the defeat of 322,52 and received legislative powers from the people by acclamation.53 Demetrius, too, only “corrected” the democratic constitution54 and was quite positively judged by contemporaries after his overthrow in 307.55 Apparently, the content of the concept of democracy had changed so much in the course of the fourth century that such a constitutional understanding was easily communicable – after all, Aristotle had provided a rationale with his remark that democratic structures were compatible with a minor census.56 A direct comparison of the events towards the end of the fifth century with those a hundred years later makes it clear that no significant resistance to the restriction of civil rights was formed on a broad basis after 321. As an explanation, it is not sufficient to point to the attempts of the Macedonian rulers to exert influence.57 Apparently, the understanding of participation and democracy had fundamentally changed, so that opposition to outside interference must rather be located in the upper stratum. This is also indicated by the other modifications of Demetrius of  On the history of Athens in the period between 322 and 307, see Hackl (1987). Habicht (1995a) 47–75. Dreyer (1999) 17–281. 46  Diod. 18,10,1–2. 47  Diod. 18,18,4–5. Plut. Phocion 28,4. 48  Diod. 18,74. 49  See also Sect. 5.6 below. 50  Diod. 18,74,3. 51  Plut. Phocion 8,1–2. See on Phocion PA 15076. Develin (1989) no. 2496. Gehrke (1976). G. A. Lehmann (1997) 32–40. 52  Dreyer (1999) 185. 53  Ibid. 161. 54  Strab. 9,1,20. 55  Dreyer (1999) 184. 56  Property qualification for admission to offices: Aristot. pol. 1291 b 38–41; 1305 a 30–32; 1306 b 1–16; 1317 b 22–23. Property qualification for participation in the assembly: Aristot. pol. 1294 b 2–5. On this, see Blösel (2014), who argues that membership in the upper three property classes as a condition for holding office was never formally abolished in Athens in Classical times. Contra Schmitz (1995b). 57  For example, G. A. Lehmann (1995) 23. Dreyer (1999) 13. 45

1.3 The Source Corpus: Documentation, Literary Reflection, and Material Evidence

13

Phalerum’s political structures58: Law enforcers (nomophylakes) were appointed or their scope of duties enlarged, and the powers of the Areopagus in religious and moral matters were expanded. The abolition of the choregy and the establishment of the agonothesia in its place also belonged to this context of constitutional modification. The introduction of a regular office meant making it more difficult for political opponents to present themselves to the public. At the same time, Demetrius was able to control the election as agonothetes, while he, as archon, used the procession on the occasion of the Dionysia to demonstrate and consolidate his position of power.59 Even when the census was reversed in 307, the agonothesia remained. An important form of financing public tasks was thus a thing of the past. These observations make it clear that significant economic, political, and social changes took place in the period between 404 and 307, which fundamentally set these hundred years apart from the previous and the following period. However, a systematic investigation of the connection between economic elite, administrative expertise, and democracy in the fourth century as a link between the “democratic heyday” and Hellenistic democracy is also legitimized by the source situation, which differs fundamentally from both that of the fifth and that of third centuries. The analysis thus contributes to revealing the connection between the political conditions of the polis and its socio-economic structure.

1.3 The Source Corpus: Documentation, Literary Reflection, and Material Evidence The fourth century is a comparatively well-documented period of Greek history. For Athens, in particular, a multitude of literary, epigraphic, and archaeological evidence exists, such as is not available in this mass and variety for any other period or any other polis. This applies to all genres of sources, but most strikingly to the written speeches; works of Athenian provenance alone provide us with insights into legal, social, economic, political, or religious life. Even though only a tiny fraction the flood of speeches of that time has survived,60 we nevertheless possess approximately 150 surviving forensic, symbolistic, and epideictic speeches forming a considerable selection of works by the ten great Attic orators or logographers who are

  On the relationship of philosophy to Demetrius’ legislation, see Gehrke (1978). J. M. Williams (1987). 59  Frg. 34. 132 Wehrli. Gehrke (1978) 173 and 185–186. Cf. Demetrius’ criticism of the choregy (Frg. 136 Wehrli). 60  Hypereides, for example, who was highly esteemed in antiquity, is said to have written more than fifty speeches, of which, however, only six have survived in addition to some fragments. Likewise, Dinarchus is said to have written about sixty speeches, of which actually only three have survived in addition to some fragments. Lysias was even attributed 425 speeches in antiquity, of which 172 titles are known today. See the references below. 58

14

1 Introduction

considered exemplary and who have entered the Alexandrian canon.61 Even if the works of Antiphon, who was sentenced to death after the restoration of democracy in 411 because of his connections to the oligarchic regime, fall62 outside the chronological framework treated here,63 and only one speech of Andocides belongs here chronologically, Lysias,64 Isaeus,65 Isocrates,66 Demosthenes,67 Aeschines,68

 On Attic orators and Greek rhetoric in general, see Hommel (1981). Kennedy (1994). Worthington (1994). Cole (1995). Poulakos (1995). Kennedy (1996). Usher (2002). Worthington (2007). Habinek (2008). 62  Three speeches and three tetralogies on fictitious murder cases have survived from him. On Antiphon of Rhamnous, who is probably not identical with the sophist of the same name, as Pendrick (2010) 1–26 contra Gagarin (2002) assumes, and his speeches see generally Blass (1887–1898) I 91–203. Paulsen (2011). 63  A total of four speeches by him have survived; two of them are Hellenistic or Roman forgeries (or. 3 and 4). The speech On His Return (or. 2), on the other hand, was delivered in 411, so that only the speech On the Mysteries (or. 1), delivered around 399, which, however, refers to the events of 415, dates from the time after the Peloponnesian War. On Andokides and his speeches, see generally Blass (1887–1898) I 280–339. Missiou (1992). M.  Edwards (1995). Gribble (1997). E. M. Harris (2000). 64  As a logographer, the Syracusan metic mainly wrote court orations (exceptions are the epideictic orations or. 2 and 33 and the symbouleutic or. 34), of which 172 titles have survived and 31 are almost complete; the introductions of three other speeches (or. 32–34) are found in Dionysius of Halicarnassus, while the (perhaps spurious) Erotikos (or. 35) is preserved in Plato (Phaidr. 230e–234c). Two speeches are certainly forgeries (or. 6 and 20); five others are disputed as to their authenticity (or. 2. 8. 9. 14. 15). – On Lysias and his speeches see generally Blass (1887–1898) I 339–644. Dover (1968). Weissenberger (1987) and (2003). Bearzot (2007). 65  Of his 64 court speeches, eleven have survived that deal exclusively with inheritance disputes. The titles of more than forty speeches (no longer extant), however, attest to a wider range of topics. For example, a fragment of a twelfth speech that we can grasp today deals with a citizen rights case (Dionys. De Isaio 17). Isaeus contributed significantly to the refinement of Greek rhetoric; his style was innovative and considered exemplary, which is why Demosthenes and Isocrates even adopted various phrases verbatim.  – On Isaeus and his speeches, see generally Blass (1887–1898) II 486–577 Avramović (1997). Ferrucci (1998). M. Edwards (2007). Griffith-­Williams (2013). 66  From him, 21 speeches and nine letters are preserved, in which Isocrates comments on the political questions and issues of his time. However, he himself never performed as an orator. It is assumed that six of these speeches originate from his logograph activity, while the remaining fifteen were distributed in writing. His speech Antidosis (or. 15) bears autobiographical features. – On Isocrates and his speeches, see generally Blass (1887–1898) II 1–331. Bringmann (1965). Fuks (1972). Walter (1996). Poulakos (1997). Orth (2003). Roth (2003). Walter (2003). Poulakos/ Depew (2004). Papilon (2008). Too (2009). C. J. Classen (2010). Blank (2014). 67  In total, the Corpus Demosthenicum comprises 61 speeches, 56 prooimia, and six letters. However, only about fifty speeches and five letters are considered genuine; not by Demosthenes are or. 7. 17. 10 (?). 11. 13. 46. 49. 50. 52. 53. 59. On the speeches of Demosthenes, see generally Blass (1887–1898) III.1. Pearson (1981). Worthington (2000). MacDowell (2009). On his life, Sealey (1993). G. A. Lehmann (1999) and (2004). Samotta (2010). W. Will (2013). 68  Three extensive speeches are preserved by Aeschines, all of which (or. 1 Against Timarchus, 2 On the Embassy, and 3 Against Ctesiphon) were directed against Demosthenes, the counterspeeches on which (Demosth. or. 19 On the False Embassy and 18 On the Crown) we also possess. – On Aeschines and his speeches, see generally Blass (1887–1898) III.2 153–266. Kindstrand (1982). E. M. Harris (1995). Fisher (2007). 61

1.3 The Source Corpus: Documentation, Literary Reflection, and Material Evidence

15

Lycurgus,69 Hypereides70 and Dinarchus71 offer rich material for the analysis of public finances and their social, political and administrative embedding. In this list, Apollodorus must not be omitted, from whom six speeches have survived in the Corpus Demosthenicum.72 Two further speeches, which have also survived under the name of Demosthenes, probably originate from Hegesippus.73 Accordingly, the fourth century offers the rhichest rhetorical evidence; only a few speeches from the end of the fifth century survive. The last surviving speech is Hypereides’ epitaph for the fallen of the Lamian War, delivered late in 323 BC. Thus the speeches that can be evaluated concentrate on the period from the end of the Peloponnesian War to the abolition of the choregy under Demetrius of Phalerum. However, the extant speeches are unevenly distributed. Thus there is a gap of about fifteen years between Lysias’ last oration (from about the year 380)74 and Apollodoros’ speech against Nicostratus from the first half of the 360s (368/5)75 or Demosthenes’ first speeches (364/3).76 In general, the logoi mass in the third quarter of the fourth century. Moreover, extensive writings do not survive from all rhetors and logographers; thus we have by far the most speeches by Demosthenes, of whom a good 50 genuine ones have been preserved, while his counterpart Aeschines is  Only one speech by Lycurgus (Against Leocrates) is complete, fifteen others have survived in fragments. Lycurgus is of the highest importance not so much for his surviving speeches as for his political position and influence on the public finances of Athens.  – On him and his speech see generally Blass (1887–1898) III.2 95–135. Conomis (1961s). Salomone (1976). Burke (1977). Spina (1980/81). Humphreys (1985). Vielberg (1991). Worthington/Cooper/E. M. Harris (2001). Humphreys (2004). Whitehead (2006). Engels (2008). Scholz (2009). Azoulay (2011). 70  The speeches of Hypereides, who was highly esteemed in antiquity, have only been preserved on papyrus; of the 77 or 52 speeches recognized as genuine in antiquity, we thus know six almost completely. Further fragments have been preserved, among others, in the so-called Archimedes palimpsest.  – On Hypereides and his speeches see generally Blass (1887–1898) III.2 1–95. Worthington (1999). Whitehead (2000). Worthington/Cooper/E. M. Harris (2001). Usher (2002) 328–338. Tchernetska et al. (2007). Care et al. (2008). Bernhardt (2012). Horváth (2014). 71  Of his extensive output – 160 or 61 speeches have been attributed to him – three shorter speeches are extant in connection with the so-called Harpalus Affair (against Demosthenes, Aristogeiton and Philocles).  – On Dinarchus and his speeches, see generally Blass (1887–1898) III.2 289–333. Worthington (1992) and (1999). Worthington/Cooper/E. M. Harris (2001). 72  The speeches [Demosth.] or. 45 and 46 (Against Stephanos I and II). 49 (Against Timotheus). 50 (Against Polycles). 52 (Against Callippus). 53 (Against Nicostratus). 59 (Against Neaera) are attributed to Apollodorus. Thus there are more speeches by him than by Andocides or Lycurgus, for example. On Apollodorus and his speeches in general, see Schäfer (1885–1887) IV 130–199. Pearson (1966) Trevett (1992) and the literature cited in Sect. 4.2.2 note 216. 73  [Demosth.] or. 7 (On Halonnesos) and 17 (On the Treaty with Alexander). See on this generally Blass (1887–1898) III.2 135–151. 74  Lys. Frg. 78 Thalheim. 75  [Demosth.] or. 53 (Against Nicostratus). 76  Demosth. or. 27 and 28 (Against Aphobos 1 and 2). Although the speeches of Isaeus (approx. 420–approx. 340) date from this time, more precisely from the period 389–346/5, they provide little relevant information for the present question. Nevertheless, they offer a valuable insight into Attic inheritance and property law, as well as into Athenian economic and social contexts in the elite milieu in general. 69

16

1 Introduction

relatively poorly attested with only three.77 Surprisingly, we lack all speeches of such outstanding personalities as Callistratos78 or Eubulus, but also Lycurgus is completely underrepresented with only one preserved speech (Against Leocrates). Thematically, a focus can also be determined: Overall, there are virtually no symbouleutic speeches; Demosthenes alone left little more than ten demegories in revised form.79 In addition, six highly stylized logoi epitaphioi from the fourth century have survived, among which, however, some remain suspect.80 The bulk, therefore, consists of the speeches delivered at court, some of which (such as the two disputes between Aeschines and Demosthenes81) were of public interest as proceedings concerning dokimasia, paranomy, or parapresbeia, though by far the greater part resulted from private-law matters – which, however, were not necessarily less politically motivated for that reason. They all provide an insight into political practices, into processes of negotiation over decisions on the direction of domestic as well as foreign policy, into antagonisms or alliances, into organizational difficulties for liturgists, into rivalries over prestige, and above all into moral concepts. In addition to these speeches, a number of other writings of different genres are available for the analysis of public finance in Athens. The pseudo-Aristotelian Athenaion politeia, for example, contains a description of Athenian officials, including the council, and their financial powers.82 Unfortunately, the account is superficial at the points of interest for the present question; a detailed description of the working procedures is missing, so that much remains vague or debatable. Xenophon established a literary genre of his own with his works Oeconomicus and Poroi. The latter, because of its innovative and profit-oriented proposals, obviously attracted special attention during the discussion on the modernity of the Greek

 Number of speeches including spurious ones or those not delivered: Antiphon (6); Andocides (4); Lysias (31); Isocrates (21); Isaeus (12); Lycurgus (1); Hypereides (6); Demosthenes (61); Aeschines (3); Dinarchus (3). 78  Demosthenes was a great admirer of his rhetorical skills (Plut. Demosthenes 5, 1–3. Demosth. or. 18,219), as was Aeschines (2,124). See Hochschulz (2007) 1–3. 79  Demosth. or. 1–17 (1–3 Olynthiacs, 1–4 Philippics, On the Peace, On the Chersonese, On the Symmories also known as On the Relation to the Persian King, On the Liberty of the Rhodians, For the Megalopolitans). Of these, or. 11 (Reply to Philip) and 13 (On Organisation) are spurious or doubtful (or. 10 4. Philip’s Speech); or. 12 is handed down as Letter of Philip, and or. 7 (On Halonnesus) and 17 (On the Treaty with Alexander) are attributed to Hegesippus. 80  Hyp. 6 Funeal Oration. Disputed: Lys. or. 2 Funeral Oration. Demosth. or. 60 Funeral Oration. 81  The first conflict to be carried out in court (Aeschin. or. 1 Against Timarchus and 2 On the False Embassy; Demosth. or. 19 On the False Embassy) arose over the delegation sent to Philip II in 346, which included both Aeschines and Demosthenes and led to the so-called Peace of Philocrates. The two opponents clashed again in court in the aftermath of the crown proposed by Ctesiphon for Demosthenes (Aeschin. or. 3 Against Ctesiphon and Demosth. or. 18 On the Crown). 82  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43–62. In what follows it will be assumed that the author of the Athenaion politeia came from the school of Aristotle. Cf. Rhodes (1985a) 58–63. 77

1.3 The Source Corpus: Documentation, Literary Reflection, and Material Evidence

17

economy.83 In order to suggest ways out of the financial disaster resulting from the Social War, Xenophon formulated various investment and revenue opportunities that would benefit the polis or the citizens in short, medium, or long term. In particular, according to Xenophon, income from trade and silver mines could contribute significantly to Athens’ ability to abstain from military undertakings and provide a regular minimum income for its citizens. Some of his proposals seem ill-conceived or utopian (such as the large-­scale investment in mining slaves or the inexhaustibility of the silver veins); much, however, demonstrates a deep understanding of economic interrelationships – for example, his proposals to attract metics to Athens by means of privileges or to establish “special economic zones” in the Piraeus or the Lauriotike.84 The Oeconomicus, on the other hand, is written in the style of a Socratic dialogue and brings economic reflection into the focus of philosophy.85 Even though it is primarily concerned with the administration of the private oikos, the framework is broader: How can those who must contribute to the common good preserve or even increase their possessions? Xenophon thus provides insight into the mindset of wealthy Athenians who were – or at least felt – obliged to perform liturgies. In this milieu, land ownership was still highly valued. But at the same time it could also serve as an object of speculation. The rich man of independent means lived in the city and had his property managed by overseers or agents. His involvement was limited to sporadic inspection visits. It remains highly questionable to what extent the economic mentality outlined by Xenophon was representative for the entirety of the liturgists, not least in view of his remarks on the qualities and duties of the wife. What is certain is that he created an ideal image that nevertheless shows some connection to reality. Xenophon’s Oeconomicus is perhaps more detailed than the remarks of other philosophers, but economic aspects also play a major role in Plato and Aristotle. While Plato is primarily interested in the economic activity of the inhabitants of his models of the state in the Politeia and the Nomoi, the Aristotelian descriptions86 remain selective and more on the descriptive level – similar to Aristotle’s student Theophrastus. In the Characters, a study of milieu in an urban context, Theophrastus frequently refers to liturgists and their correct behavior. In an entertaining way he gives instructions for action and conveys the image of a good citizen, which essentially coincides with the ethopoiies of the court orations. The works mentioned above (and other isolated fragments) testify that in the philosophical discourse of  On the Poroi, see Boeckh (1886) I 698–708. Brinkmann (1912). Andreades (1931) 406–416. Schwahn (1931). von der Lieck (1933). Wilhelm (1934). Bodei Giglioni (1970). Frolov (1973). Lauffer (1975). Gauthier (1976). Audring (1978). Gauthier (1984a). Austin/Vidal-Naquet (1984) no. 122. Cataudella (1985). Schütrumpf (1987). Jackson (1990). Roscalla (1990). Dillery (1993). Bloch (2004). Schorn (2006). Jansen (2007). J.  Lewis (2009). Schorn (2011). Audring (2012). Schorn (2012). 84  The idea that metics would bring wealth to Athens was a common topos. See Bakewell (1999) especially 10–13. On the “special economic zones” Günther (2016b). 85  On the Oeconomicos, see K. Meyer (1975). Pomeroy (1994). Schefold (2004). Föllinger (2006). Dorion (2008). Nee (2009). Unholtz (2011). Günther (2012b). 86  On the economics of Plato, see Föllinger (2016). 83

18

1 Introduction

the fourth century the relationship between wealth, moral behavior, and ideal constitution was a much debated problem. The economic aspects of human life were as much a part of the philosophers’ field of inquiry as the description of the world in general.87 It therefore hardly comes as a surprise that from the school of Aristotle, probably also belonging to the fourth century, comes a writing that reflects economic aspects: the pseudo-Aristotelian writing Oeconomica.88 While the first of the three short books – like the Xenophontic Oeconomicus of its time – deals with the administration of the household, the last book conveys ethical norms and practical rules in the interaction between spouses. Both books thus remain at the micro level. The second is more interesting for the present context, since here the author changes the perspective and also focuses on macroeconomics under the term oikonomia (in a unique way for antiquity).89 After a brief schematic comparison of the four types of household management  – royal, satrapic, polis, and private  – the second main section follows. Numerous anecdotal episodes set out various practical measures to raise public revenues in emergencies in the short term. The geographical scope is broad; it extends from Sicily to Asia Minor. Taken in isolation, they are more or less tips and tricks on how to make money available in the short term. A conceptual approach to sustainable fiscal policy is as little apparent as is a red line. The same applies to the evaluation of historiographical evidence, such as the works of Xenophon, the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia, or Diodorus’ excerpts from Ephorus’ writings. Again, there are glancing mentions of constellations that lend themselves to an analysis of public finance, but do not provide a complete picture of revenue or expenditure. Moreover, genre-specific idiosyncrasies, stylistic requirements, and intertextual references complicate the interpretation of the literary evidence as a whole. In contrast, the inscriptions present a more unbroken picture of Athenian conditions. Democracy set itself apart from other political communities primarily through its epigraphic culture; this received a noticeable boost in the fourth century (compared to the previous century). Of particular note here are those inscriptions that demanded publicity. These included honoring inscriptions, for example, such as those to foreign potentates, who were rewarded with prestigious privileges for their support of the Athenian grain supply. A similar principle of publicizing the achievement of wealthy benefactors is encountered especially in the context of Athenian dramatic contests. Thus, victorious choregoi were permitted to erect dedications in highly frequented places.

 On Theophrastus, generally see Regenbogen (1940). Fortenbaugh/Huby/Long (1985). Leppin (2002). Gutas/Lang/Schneider (2016). 88  On Oeconomica in general, see Wilcken (1901). Laurenti (1968). van Groningen/Wartelle (1968). Victor (1983). Isager (1988). Brodersen (2006). Zoepffel (2006). Brodersen (2008). Since all persons mentioned in the second part of the second book were still living at the time of Alexander the Great, the dating to the fourth century proposed by Brodersen (2008) is followed. 89  Polanyi (1957). 87

1.3 The Source Corpus: Documentation, Literary Reflection, and Material Evidence

19

In addition, a desire arose in Athens, not least due to the experiences at the end of the fifth century, to make transparent processes of public interest. This was reflected in the publication – and not only in the archiving – of administrative procedures, laws or decisions of the assembly, accounts, inventories and deeds.90 For example, the poletai recorded the mining concessions auctioned by year, including the tenant and the price offered; the inscriptions were placed in the agora and were thus available for anyone to see.91 Likewise, the so-called naval records (mainly) from the period between 378/7 and 323/2 represent an Athenian peculiarity.92 They offer extensive information, for example, on the size of the fleet, the condition of the ships, or monetary claims against defaulting trierarchs. The third group of sources consists of archaeological testimonies. Since there is no – or virtually no – literary evidence of the two protagonists, of all people, whose names stand for the restructuring of revenue and the reorientation of expenditure policy, Eubulus and Lycurgus remain only silhouettes. Only the inventory of public building projects, such as the new construction or rebuilding of the Pnyx or the Theater of Dionysus, give us a glimpse of the financial feats of strength that were undertaken in the third quarter of the fourth century. This is revealing in two respects: on the one hand, such undertakings show the success of political changes of direction and the reorganization of public finances. On the other hand, the projects, some of which are monumental, demonstrate what was important to the political community, that is, what it wanted to spend its limited resources on. Due to the abundance of sources, Athens is the focus of the following enquiry; no other polis in Classical times provides comparably detailed insights into public and private spheres. Nevertheless, an attempt is made to give the Athenian revenue and expenditure structure a clearer profile, at least by looking at Sparta. The concentration on Athens is thus not the result of a classicist Athenocentrism, but follows from the availability of ancient evidence, since for no other Greek polity it is possible grasp so fully the connection between economic elite, administrative expertise, and democracy by means of a precise analysis of public finances. The qualitatively and quantitatively strongly divergent source basis prevents both generalizing statements and a methodically flawless comparison. Nevertheless, with all due caution in transferring the results to other communities, the influence of Athens on the Greek world should not be overlooked; according to Quass in his fundamental study, Athens served as a model for other Hellenistic and imperial poleis, especially in the development of the Honoratioren.93

  Cf. Aischin. 3.75.  – On the transparency postulate of democracy, see Davies (1994). D. Harris (1994). 91  Crosby (1950). 92  IG II2 1604–1632.  – Only the three fragments IG I3 598–600 date from the fifth century (535–410). 93  G. J. Oliver (2007) 1–5. Quass (1993) 19–40 on the development of the Honoratioren, emphasizing the role of honorary decrees in the formation of the Honoratioren class and tracing this development primarily to Athens. 90

20

1 Introduction

1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft The attempt to approach the genesis of Honoratiorenschaft through an examination of public finance in its entirety has not yet been undertaken, even though euergetism has been identified as a crucial factor and even though Quass chose Honoratioren as a category of analysis for his study of Hellenistic and imperial societies in the Greek East as early as 1993.94 The civic communities he describes as democracies are characterized by the fact that “die prominenten und reichen Bürger weniger die Position von ‚Vorstehern des Demos‘ als vielmehr die leitende und verwaltende Stellung einnahmen.”95 Quass emphasizes the difference between the Hellenisticimperial society and the radical democracy of the fifth century. In his argument, the intermediate period only plays a subordinate role, even though he notes a change in the ways of representation and honor particularly in the last third of the fourth century, which however he only states, but neither explains nor justifies. He conducts no systematic examination of public finances, just as little as do Veyne and Gauthier, from whose studies Quass seeks to distance himself. Veyne’s book Le pain et le cirque may now be counted among the classics of ancient history.96 The comprehensive monograph drew attention to a phenomenon characteristic of Greco-Roman antiquity, which in derivation from the corresponding Greek expressions εὐεργέτης and εὐεργετεῖν he called eurgetism (évergétisme): wealthy people behave charitably and generously towards their political community, receive honors and assume political leadership roles. In this, Veyne also draws on Weber’s conception of Honoratioren.97 Throughout about 150 pages, he treats Greek cities up to the imperial period, without, however, going into too much detail; he was more concerned with describing the sociological phenomenon than with its practical functioning in a specific context.98 One aspect seems worth mentioning in the present context: While the elite in late Hellenistic times understood itself as a class, this was not the case in earlier times.99 Much more differentiated is the work of Gauthier, who approached the relationship between city and benefactor through the epigraphic evidence.100 He concentrated on the Hellenistic period in particular, identifying the decisive caesura in the second century. Subsequently, he argues, euergetism was no longer tied to the assumption of public functions.101 While Gauthier provides a vivid picture of the urban elite, their involvement and honors, he confines himself to the Hellenistic period. Moreover, he fails to integrate the financial benefits of the elite into an  Quass (1993).  Ibid. 16. 96  Veyne (1976). 97  Ibid. 110. 98  Ibid. 185–327. 99  Ibid. 232. 100  Gauthier (1985). 101  Ibid. 103–120. 94 95

1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft

21

overall economic context and confines himself too much to euergetism as an institution without problematizing the constitutional dimension. For example, Gauthier does not explain how the Athenian understanding of democracy was compatible with the expectation of a public official to contribute financially to his task. Gauthier’s study is so influential that it has become accepted as communis opinio in the last twenty years to locate the decisive caesura in the middle of the second century due to Roman dominance and to postulate a – not only nominal – continuity of democracy until the late Hellenistic period.102 Even if there is agreement that Chaeroneia did not mean a fundamental break in domestic politics,103 that the polis as a living world certainly did not lose its vitality, and that assemblies also met in Hellenistic times, the postulate of continuity hangs strangely in the air. This results in an uneasiness that is either brushed aside104 with formalistic guilelessness – democracy is when council and people are mentioned in resolutions or when assemblies are held regularly  – or evaded by quotation marks.105 Ultimately, one misses the connecting link: previous studies are either devoted to Athenian democracy up to 322 or deal with Hellenistic democracies.106 An exception, little received in this research context, is the dissertation by Nippel, who in one chapter deals with the relationship between constitutional theory and the real Athenian democracy of the fourth century, specifically with the relationship between the poor and the rich, which played a fundamental role in the political philosophy of the time.107 His remarks touch on present context in two ways: first, Nippel assumes as a matter of course that democracy depended on individuals who devoted themselves almost exclusively to politics. In doing so, he (also referring to Weber) uses the term “Honoratioren”108 in too unspecific a sense: for him, Honoratioren  are members of an economic elite whose financial resources enabled them to be indispensable.109 Second, he notes a trend towards oligarchy in the fourth century: elective offices were established which required special knowledge and experience and to which one could be re-elected indefinitely. Although “de facto” certain speakers dominated the assembly, an elite of functionaries could not monopolize decisions “de facto” because no one succeeded in institutionalizing his

 Habicht (1995a) and (1995b). Fröhlich/Chr. Müller (2005). On the Hellenistic polis and the continuity of democracy in the Hellenistic period, see the research overview by Mann (2012). 103  Cf. the famous opening sentence of Louis Robert (1969): “La cité grecque n’est pas morte à Chéronée.” 104  Grieb (2008). Carlsson (2010). See on these two dissertations Mann (2012) 15–19 and the reviews on Grieb by Horster (2008), Mann (2008), Hamon (2009) 350–351 and Wiemer (2010b) and on Carlsson (2010) by Wiemer (2010a) and Hamon (2009) 349–350 and 380–381. 105  Mann/Scholz (2012). 106  So also Mann (2012) 24. 107  Nippel (1980) 98–123. 108  Ibid. 107. 109  Ibid. On the use of the term Honoratioren in the present context, see the remarks in Sect. 1.2 above. 102

22

1 Introduction

position of power.110 Therefore, he does not want to speak of a professionalization of politics111 or of an accumulation of ruling knowledge.112 There appears to be a contradiction here, arising from an over-emphasis on the formal structure of democracy. Nippel values the final decision-making powers of the assembly and the minimization of institutionalized influence more highly than personal authority and persuasion.113 However, a leadership role can be legitimate without being institutionalized as an office; personal authority may well suffice to consolidate a position of power, and the decision of the assembly does not preclude the dominance of a political elite, as a look at Hellenistic kingship, the Augustan principate, or republican senators shows. Thus, even if Nippel touches on the central question underlying this study, namely the connection between economic elite, administrative expertise, and democracy, he remains too unspecific at crucial points – for example, with regard to the role of the high financial offices in the institutional structure or how the balance of interests between elite and sub-elite actually came about –, as he himself admits.114 Accordingly, a systematic investigation is still lacking of whether, and if so, how, under the specific conditions of a democracy based on the equality of all citizens, a socio-economic and at the same time politically effective elite could emerge in the fourth century and be integrated into the political system.115 An investigation of the genesis of a socio-economic and at the same time political elite on the basis of Weber’s conception of Honoratioren and the connection between economic elite, administrative expertise and democracy closes a research gap that contributes significantly to the understanding of Athenian democracy in Classical, but also in Hellenistic times. In this context, the analysis of public finances opens up a new approach which, although thematically obvious, has not yet been attempted. Thus, as explained, studies with a political-social orientation were not interested in the economic aspects, while economic-historical studies pursued other, more technical questions – and this despite the fact that Boeckh’s first comprehensive account of Athenian public finances very much opened up the perspective of constitution and society. With Boeckh begins not only the study of the public finances of Athens, but his name stands above all for the scientification of Greek history.116 As Niebuhr did at about the same time for the Roman area,117 Boeckh in 1817 took the hitherto  Nippel (1980) 107 at 102.  Ibid. 107 note 33. 112  Ibid. 103. 113  Ibid. 102. 114  Ibid. 123. 115  Similarly, Mann (2012) 19–20 states the problem, but he focuses on a concretization of the term “democracy”. 116  Bleicken (1995) 613. On his life and work see generally Irmscher (1971). B. Schneider (1985). Musiolek (1987). Warnke (1987). Horstmann (1988). H. Schneider (1989). Poiss (2009). Nippel (2013b). On the spelling Hackel (2006) 7 note 2. 117  Niebuhr (1811–1832). 110 111

1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft

23

antiquarian study of Greek antiquity a crucial step further by not only collecting objects of curiosity and thereby idealizing Greek classicism, but also by clarifying the connection between economy and the living world under a specific question.118 Niebuhr not only gave Boeckh a methodological impulse, but also the decisive thematic impulse to deal with the economic side of Greek history.119 In doing so, Boeckh introduced the economic, social, and political history of Athens; his epochmaking work Die Staatshaushaltung der Athener120 by no means dealt solely with public finances, as the title suggests, but is much broader in scope. For Boeckh, the political context provided a gateway to adequately assess Athenian finance.121 As is well known, Boeckh’s turn to the economic foundations of ancient life and thus his turning away from small-scale, formalized philological work led to the conflict with Gottfried Hermann and the “methodological dispute” between Wortphilologie and Sachphilologie, which was vehemently fought by both representatives.122 Heavily criticized by Hermann, Boeckh was especially involved in epigraphy; it was precisely the time of the great epigraphic corpora, the foundation of which Boeckh had been instrumental in. Under his aegis, four volumes of the CIG were produced by 1859, which laid the institutional foundation for a scientific study of inscriptions and at the same time fed them into historical interpretation. For almost two hundred years, Die Staatshaushaltung der Athener has been the standard work on the public finances of Athens; no other monograph so far has dealt with prices, wages, interest, income and expenditure and their administration so exhaustively, even though newer and more recent studies have appeared on numerous individual aspects, revising many of Boeckh’s theses. Until the 1980s, he more than subliminally shaped the view of the Athenians in the fourth century; his work proves thought-provoking until today.123 While Boeckh confined himself to Athens, the following major handbooks, mainly in French and German, attempted to broaden the perspective to the whole of

 Bleicken (1995) 613. On Niebuhr and the development of modern classical studies, see Nippel (2009) and (2013a). 119  Warnke (1987). 120  1st edition: 1817; 2nd edition: 1850; authoritative 3rd edition: 1886. 121  Boeckh (1886) I 2: “Und weil beinahe alle Verhältnisse des Staates und der Einzelnen in die große Haushaltung des gemeinen Wesens verschlungen sind, kann weder das Leben des Altertums ohne Kunde seiner Finanzen, noch sein Finanzwesen ohne die genauere Einsicht ins Innere des Staates und öffentlichen Lebens verstanden werden.” 122  On the dispute between Wortphilologie and Sachphilologie, see the fundamental study by C. Lehmann (1964). 123  His judgement on the relation of military in contrast to religious expenditure was and is so influential that Pritchard (2012) took it as an opportunity to once again precisely calculate the costs for both areas. In doing so, he draws on the fundamental study by P. Wilson (2008) for his analysis of urban Dionysia. – An international conference at the Bielefeld ZiF in September 2017 updated Boeckh’s interdisciplinary approach and tested different methodological approaches to the study of Athens’ public finances across disciplinary boundaries. The results appeared in Günther/ Rohde (2019). 118

24

1 Introduction

Greece. Among them should be mentioned: Hermann,124 Schömann,125 and Busolt/Swoboda,126 who not only dealt specifically with public finance, but treated it in the context of their studies on Greek history and statesmanship. In contrast to the classical view of Greek history (E. Curtius), the designs at the end of the nineteenth century, which were committed to historical realism and pragmatism and are represented by K.-J. Beloch and E. Meyer, devoted a great space to public finances. Both Beloch and Meyer underpinned their overall accounts with specialized studies127; Meyer also wrote the still readable article on finance in antiquity in the Handwörterbuch der Staatswissenschaften, in which Weber’s Agrarverhältnisse des Altertums may also be found.128 In contrast, Francotte129 and Andreades130 focused on the financial system of the Greek poleis. Francotte established a long tradition of French-language research that continues steadily to the present day. Andreades’ Geschichte der griechischen Staatswirtschaft was perhaps not as innovative in terms of scientific history as Boeckh’s Staatshaushaltung, but thanks to an English and Italian translation in the 1930s and a German reprint published in 1965 it is nevertheless almost as influential today. In his Geschichte der griechischen Staatswirtschaft, which was to form the first part of a study of public finance from its beginnings to the present day, Andreades turned to the finances of all the Greek cities. In four large chapters he treated the Homeric period, Sparta, the Greek world, and finally Athens most extensively.131 Although his treatise is characterized by rich detail, knowledge of research literature132 and understanding of specific ancient conditions, it was not primarily aimed at scholars of antiquity.133 The social dimension and the socio-political c­ onsequences of public finances played no role for Andreades; at most, he focused on the

 1st ed. 1831; 2nd ed. 1836.  1st edition by Schömann: 1855; authoritative 4th edition newly by Lipsius: 1897–1902. 126  Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926). 127  Beloch (1893–1904) II 336–367 and III 279–330. E. Meyer (1899). 128  E. Meyer (1909). Weber (1907/8). 129  Francotte (1909). 130  Andreades (1931). 131  Original Greek edition, 1st edition 1917, 2nd revised edition 1928, 3rd edition 1931. Andreades died in 1935 at the age of 64 and was unable to complete his wide-­ranging enterprise. 132  Cf. for example the review by Hasebroek (1933). 133  Andreades was not a historian, but had studied law and economics in Paris and from 1902 held the only chair of economics in Greece at the University of Athens. It was in this capacity that he decided to write a handbook for students of economics and social science [Andreades (1931) XI]. – After the Treaty of Lausanne in 1923, about one and a half million Greek refugees arrived in Greece from Turkish territories, which led to a considerable increase in Athens’ population. The accompanying problems did not leave Andreades unscathed and directly influenced his interpretation of similarly structured conditions, as he himself noted [Andreades (1931) X]: “Living as we do in times of war and post-war economy, we now better understand the problems posed to the Greek world during and after the Peloponnesian War.” 124 125

1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft

25

supposed consequences for power politics, as can be seen in particular in the negative assessment of “expenditure for the people”.134 Thus the thesis of the connection between “social benefits” and foreign policy crisis, which Boeckh had introduced to the academic world, had received influential support from an economist. This had an impact on the study of public finance in that both works seemed to leave no questions unanswered, which is why for about seventy years public revenues and expenditures were only sporadically addressed.135 Landmark studies are lacking from this period. Buchanan, for example, published a study of theorika in 1962,136 but his “disappointing little book”137 by no means exhaustively evaluated the body of sources and otherwise stayed on well-trodden paths. The economic-historical discussion between the so-called modernists and the so-called primitivists about the level of ancient economics, which had been going on for about a hundred years, on the other hand, did not find its way into the analysis of public finance. This “century debate” limited any examination of the ancient economy to the one all-important question: was ancient economic behavior modern (and therefore comparable to contemporary economic activity) or primitive (and governed by social norms)?138 Moses I.  Finley’s The Ancient Economy, published in 1973, and the basic assumptions it formulated, once again provided arguments for neo-primitivism that, in their generalizations, provoked contradiction.139 Finley, influenced by Max Weber and Karl Polanyi, took a sociological and anthropological view of the ancient economy. Economic action did not – or at least not predominantly – follow the rules of the market, but rather specific status-dependent factors. Economy,  Andreades (1931) 238–259 (Chapter III: Expenditures for the People), esp. 266/7: “Of the latter [the expenditure on the citizens, DR] the most important, that is to say the distributions and payments of money, cannot be judged leniently, for even if we admit that economic reasons (such as the nature of the soil, the competition with foreign countries and with slave labor) as well as the honest administration of the democratic government, imposed the adoption of such measures, we cannot deny that the abuses which accompanied their application were very great and were fatal to the state. More particularly the Theorikon, which was the culmination of the policy initiated by distributions and payments of salaries, was rightly characterized by Boeckh as the chief reason for the state’s fall – as the cancer that caused its death.” – Boeckh (1886) deals with theorika in two places in Volume 1 (pp. 224–226 and 274–287), the most succinct being his formulations on p. 276 (“cancer of Athenian state welfare”) and p. 224: “Durch das Theorikon (τὸ θεωρικόν, τὰ θεωρικά, oder θεωρικὰ χρήματα), die verderblichste Ausgeburt des Perikleischen Zeitalters, entstand in einem kleinen Freistaate eine Verschwendung, welche verhältnismäßig nicht geringer war als an den üppigsten Höfen, und große Summen verschlang, während die Kriege aus Geldmangel verloren gingen.” 135  How English-speaking authors assess the theorika can be seen, moreover, in the translation of the saying by Demades that the theorika were the glue (κόλλα) of democracy (Plut. mor. 1011 b: κόλλα τὰ θεωρικὰ τῆς δημοκρατίας). If modern viewers tend to be more negative, they prefer the rendering of κόλλα as “glue”, otherwise to “cement”, according to Brun (2000) 133. 136  Buchanan (1962). 137  Thus de Ste. Croix (1964) 190 in his review of Buchanan (1962). 138  Bücher (1893). E.  Meyer (1895). On the Bücher-Meyer Controversy, see Finley (1979) and H. Schneider (1990). Wagner-Hasel (2011). 139  Finley (1973). 134

26

1 Introduction

according to Finley’s paradigm, was embedded in a series of social contexts. In doing so, Finley supported his internally consistent view primarily through the literary evidence, rather than with archaeological material or inscriptions, as, for example, Rostovtzeff had done in his studies of the imperial and Hellenistic economy.140 In a sense, thus, Finley’s work seems at once bith modern and outdated – outdated inasmuch as it evaluates the material sources only sporadically, and modern because it concisely pursues a thesis. His comments on the Greek “tax system” alone141 reveal why Finley was able to become so influential: He managed to present complex issues vividly and pointedly. One can therefore regret that Finley did not fundamentally comment on the connection between the economic elite, administrative expertise, and democracy. Although Finley had particularly developed his theses in The Ancient Economy on the basis of Greek society it was primarily ancient historians dealing with Roman economy who referred to the “Finley/Polanyi orthodoxy”.142 In the Greek sphere, other issues were virulent, which is why Finley’s model, though no longer shared in its radicalism to this day, remained valid in a nuanced assessment. The neoprimitivist doctrine was linked to the crisis theory: from the 1970s to the 1980s, the dominant view here was that the great population losses of the Peloponnesian War and the loss of tribute from the Delian League led to a decline in foreign policy. According to this view, the outcome of the Battle of Chaeronea was understood not so much as a sign of the Macedonian strength, but much more as a weakness of the Greek poleis, especially Athens.143 Representatives of this crisis theory were, for example, the French-speaking scholars Mossé,144 Brun,145 and Austin/ Vidal-Naquet.146 Related to this was the system of war finance, particularly the trierarchy. Two English-language works on the trierarchy appeared in the 1990s. While Silverman’s  Rostovtzeff (1926) and (1941).  Finley (1973) 150–153. 142  Silver (2003). On Finley’s influence on the study of the Roman economy, see Ruffing (2015). 143  The basic argumentation was: While the Greek poleis of the fifth century could take on the overpowering Persians, by the fourth century they were incapable of fighting off the “barbarian” danger from the north. The decline weighed all the more heavily because it was self-inflicted, since the Athenians had allowed themselves to be driven into ruin out of laziness and ignorance. Had the Athenians listened to Demosthenes and not neglected their civic duties, had they not been concerned only with their own comfort financed by theorika and gone into battle themselves instead of hiring mercenaries, they could have maintained their military supremacy. – Burckhardt, however, in various studies published in 1995 and 1996 demonstrated that civic participation in military undertakings did not decline; Athens still sent out the entire contingent on certain occasions, cf. for example Demosth. or. 3,35. 4,7–8. 4,19. 4,24. 4,42 and 46. 6,6. 8,21. 9,67. 13,4–5. 144  For example, Mossé (1962) and (1979a). 145  Brun (1983). He paints a particularly bleak picture in his study of war finance (eisphora, syntaxeis and stratiotika) in the almost forty years between the founding of the Second Athenian League (377) and its dissolution after the Battle of Chaeronaea (338). He attributed the loss of autonomy mainly to the fact that the Athenians had not been able to secure their finances in the long term and to put them on an adequate organizational basis in view of the permanent wars. 146  Austin/Vidal-Naquet (1984). 140 141

1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft

27

dissertation was hardly considered, Gabrielsen’s study today is undoubtedly the reference work on the most costly of the Athenian liturgies.147 A comparable study was presented by P. Wilson in 2000 on the choregy. Both Gabrielsen and Wilson endeavored above all to map out the social and political implications; they do not, however, shed any light on important framework conditions, such as the economic prerequisites. Thus, although detailed monographs are available for the two most important liturgies, they must be modified in some respects and, above all, embedded in the larger context of the levy system and the constitutional consequences. It was not until around 2002 that interest in economic history grew significantly again.148 Eich’s habilitation thesis on political economy certainly occupies a special position here,149 not only because with this work he set his own accents in a research trend oriented towards cultural history, but also because here he consciously took up a modern concept and elaborated the elements of Greek economy in its political, i.e. polis-­specific, supra-individual dimension. Eich thus delivered a central contribution to the discussion on essential characteristics of the Greek economy and (finally) drove forward the centuries-old debate on the nature of ancient economy with knowledge of the sources and theoretical proficiency – without engaging in positivist trench warfare. For this study, especially his remarks on the economic mentality of the elite are of particular importance. It was not until the financial crisis that awareness of economic structures and interrelationships was once again heightened, which is why there has been a noticeable increase in interest in economic history research in recent years. In the process, the Classical period also came back into view as a field of research. Since about 2012, fundamental results have been published for discussion.150 Two tendencies dominate. While ideologically charged writings or works with an eye for fundamental questions, as they had characterized the discussions in the twentieth century, are largely absent, the concentration on the small-scale collection of sources and description of the findings predominates in ancient historical research. For example, the project on ancient war costs, which has been based at the University of Mannheim since September 2005 (and at the University of Erfurt since July 2008), isolated151 all relevant data from the evidence. The results of a conference on War Costs & War  Silverman (1994). Gabrielsen (1994).   Migeotte (2002). Scheidel/von Reden (2002). Morris/Saller/Scheidel (2007). Bresson (2007–2008 = English translation 2016). 149  Eich (2006). 150  See the overview of current debates in the economic-historical study of ancient Greece Günther (2017b). 151  The exact title is “Was kostet der Krieg? Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der griechischrömischen Antike von der Gründung des Delisch-Attischen Seebundes bis zur Zeitenwende”. See the website for this project: http://www2.uni-erfurt.de/kriegskosten/ (last accessed 25.03.2015). However, the database has not been updated since July 2009. The project can be compared in approach with the Oxford Roman Economy Project, which was set up at about the same time and aims to clarify the foundations of the Roman economy using quantitative methods (http://oxrep. classics.ox.ac.uk/home/, last accessed 25.03.2015). What both projects have in common is that the presentation of the findings takes precedence over an question-driven interpretation. 147 148

28

1 Introduction

Financing from Antiquity to Modern Times (2007) were published by Burrer & Müller.152 Typical of the volume as a whole is Burrer’s contribution, which examines the individual references in ancient historiography, puts them in chronological order, and again tabulates the evidence at the end.153 A structured synthesis is lacking, so as to place the costs of war in a larger social, political, or administrative context. Also symptomatic of the tendency of economic-historical studies is the monograph by Migeotte, published in 2014, which encompasses 670 pages (excluding indexes, etc.), sets out the revenues, expenditures, and their administration of the Classical and Hellenistic periods.154 It is an example of how publication date and contemporary history are not always related: For more than thirty years Migeotte has continuously published works on financial aspects of Greek history from the Archaic to the Early Imperial Period. Even if Athens receives special attention within his works due to the source situation, he always has in view the whole of Greece.155 He follows the same approach in his 2014 handbook, which seeks to comprehensively cover the organizational aspects of public finance. Migeotte presents a large number of important individual technical facts in a wide space; his monograph will certainly provide valuable services as a reference work in the long run. However, it is so broad in time and space that it remains too superficial at times. Moreover, there are no explanations for social or political change; the fixation on technical issues moves the actors to the background. Pritchard’s monograph Public Spending and Democracy in Classical Athens, published in 2015, differs considerably from this in its approach, since it is limited to a single aspect – public spending. As in his contribution156 published in 2012, he was able to show with systematic calculations that Boeckh’s old thesis that Attic democracy celebrated too many festivals and spent too little money on war no longer holds up. The insight is certainly not entirely surprising, but the figures nevertheless have a certain suggestive power. For the question of the connection between economic elite, administrative expertise, and democracy, the study is interesting insofar as the contribution of wealthy Athenians to public finances can now be quantified more precisely than before. The second trend that can be discerned in the more recent publications on public finance is the increased first edition or reedition of relevant economic texts. The basic epigraphic works did not necessarily enrich the stock of sources quantitatively, but qualitatively through the (renewed) publication and commentary of a few but important inscriptions. Again, one must assume that publication time and modern developments coincide only by chance. Thus, Meier’s dissertation, published in

 Burrer/H. Müller (2008).  Burrer (2008). 154  Migeotte (2014a). 155  See, for example, Migeotte (1982), (1983), (1984), (1990), (1991), (1992), (1995), (2002), (2008), (2009 = English translation of 2002), (2014a). 156  Pritchard (2012). 152 153

1.4 Research Context: Public Finance and the Genesis of Honoratiorenschaft

29

2012, touches on the present question in significant ways.157 Meier collected and interpreted the relevant inscriptions on Athenian construction finance in the Lycurgian period and made clear the economic potential of the early Hellenistic polis. However, he does not undertake a socio-political interpretation; for him, only financial questions are relevant. In the English speaking world, on the other hand, there are signs of a turn towards sociological approaches; since the late 1990s, the research area of New Fiscal History or New Fiscal Sociology has become established.158 This approach takes sociological, political and legal issues into account in economic historical analysis. It is primarily concerned with taxation in the technical sense, but above all with the social, legal and cultural consequences to reveal the connection between politicaladministrative institutions and social developments.159 Thus, in his study Ships and Silver, Taxes and Tribute, published in 2013, van Wees tried to incorporate the New Fiscal History approach. His basic thesis is that the Athenian economy was already developed enough in Archaic times to form a system of public finance. As early as the last quarter of the sixth century, he argues, the Athenians used tax revenues to build triremes. The financing of naval warfare had therefore significantly advanced the development of public finances since Solonic times. Van Wees bases his study on the basic linear structure of Bonney/Ormrod,160 who, like Bücher before them, start from a stage model. They identify four stages of development for European history: conquest states, domain states, tax states and fiscal states.161 The New Fiscal History also influenced the conception of an collected volume edited by Monson and Scheidel in 2015, which deals with Fiscal Regimes in pre-modern times in comparative perspective – from the Incas to early modern Japan.162 The contributions in the aforementioned volume provide a general overview in order to introduce the non-specialist reader to the characteristics of the respective cultural area. The main conclusion to be drawn is that a stage model cannot be identified for the pre-modern period; there are no typical stages in the development of tax systems. For the methodological approach of the present study, to illuminate the connection between economic elite, administrative expertise, and democracy through the study of public finances, the volume demonstrates the potential of the New Fiscal History approach but does not anticipate any results, since it is, on the one hand, too general in its comparative, introductory character, and, on

 L. Meier (2012).  See the basic remarks by Bonney (1998) or the interdisciplinary and cross-epochal anthology of I. W. Martin/Mehrotra/Prasad (2009), which, however, do not include the ancient world. 159  Sven Günther pursues a similar, multi-perspective approach with his concept of “economic regulatory frameworks”, with which he seeks to capture the political, legal, economic-geographical, social, cultural or religious steering mechanisms of economic action in the fourth century. Cf. for example Günther (2012a), (2012b), (2014a), (2017a) and (2019). 160  Bonney/Ormrod (1999). 161  This assumption of natural growth in public finances has already been criticised. See, for example, Yun-Casalilla (2012). 162  Monson/Scheidel (2015a). 157 158

30

1 Introduction

the other hand, too narrow in its focus, for it directs attention solely to those levies comparable to taxes. Although the present study can be assigned to the New Fiscal History, it modifies the approach at two crucial points: On the one hand, there is no attempt to integrate the specific situation of Athens into an evolutionary stage model, since the aim of knowledge is not a better understanding of the global system of levies – not even in historical perspective – but to shed light on the connection between economic elite, administrative expertise and Athenian democracy in the fourth century. On the other hand, the perspective is considerably broadened, since only the analysis of the entire range of public revenues and expenditures is able to provide the basis for gaining deeper insights into socio-political developments beyond purely economic-historical-technical questions.

2

Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-­Understanding

Only very little data has survived on which an analysis of public finances for the Classical period may be based. This considerably limits the possibilities of reliable calculations for the revenues and expenditures of Greek poleis. Even an area as well attested as grain production and supply allows only rough estimates. Thus, while we know to some extent about the productive capacity of Attica, the approximate size of its population, and the estimated quantity of imports, all these determinants are subject to imponderables that permit only an approximate impression. The same is true, for example, of infrastructure development, which in most cases can only be stated. It is therefore not even possible to estimate the actual financial volume of these construction activities since neither the material nor the labor costs can be ascertained. In the overall view, however, these projects testify to specific ideas of what the citizens formulated as a need and at what expense they remedied the condition perceived as a deficiency. Hence, in the following, the aim can hardly to draw up a precise budget with debit and credit sides. If we are to overcome this purely material level, the considerations of the New Institutional Economics (NIE), a theoretical approach that was significantly influenced by the US-American economic historian and Nobel Prize winner Douglas North, can be applied.1 The decisive factor is the value-based approach. New Institutional Economics assumes utility-maximizing actors2 who, however, are by no means guided only by the prospect of financial gains or losses, but also decide

 In 1993, Douglas North, together with Robert W. Fogel, received the Prize for Economic Sciences from the Swedish Riksbank in memory of Alfred Nobel (“Nobel Prize in Economic Sciences”) “for having renewed research in economic history by applying economic theory and quantitative methods in order to explain economic and institutional change” (http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_ prizes/economic-sciences/laureates/1993/presentation-speech.html, last accessed 03.02.2014). NIE is basically a (political and economic) contract theory, according to North (1986) 231, which links economics and politics into a historical approach and reintegrates culture as a factor of economic action into economic analysis. Priddat (2005) 109. 2  North (1986) 232. 1

© Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Rohde, From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5_2

31

32

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

for or against various choices based on beliefs.3 Actors explain and interpret information and attach certain individual and supra-individual meanings to actions, goods, and relationships. Individuals thus decide on the basis of selfish motives; however, the benefit and advantage they hope to gain from their choice may encompass various dimensions of a social, political, or economic nature. The choice of an option is therefore essentially dependent on the mental predisposition of how an individual perceives and evaluates alternatives; it is a result of the culture surrounding it. The extension of this culture-specific mental construction of individuals to a higher level is represented by institutions.4 Institutions are thus socially constructed patterns and not only constitute the range of choices available to actors, but they also limit the number of alternative courses of action available at any given time in a given society and thus influence action. Institutions are all the rules that guide interaction between individuals5; they can be any kind of permanent system of rules and be either formal (as constitutions, laws, and contracts) or informal (as culturally specific norms of behavior, conventions, norms, values, and morals).6 Institutions thus manifest basic convictions about what society defines as just, how actors perceive situations, and why they prefer certain alternatives. The quintessence of such institutions can be described as ideology, moral or ethical standards, or shared mental models.7 Thus, a society not only establishes formal institutions through legislation but also negotiates specific basic consensual systems of commonly shared values and beliefs that are passed down from generation to generation and acquired through socialization. The smaller communities are, the more homogeneous their repertoire of values and code of conduct.8 If one understands revenues and expenditures as institutions that are the results of a political opinion-forming process within a specific historical situation, then the study of public finances also allows conclusions to be drawn concerning the actors’ ideas about the community they shaped. Therefore, a crucial further question can be added to the complex of investigations into what the Athenians considered worth financing and how they financed these needs: How are these decisions a reflection of political self-understanding?

 Priddat (2005) 122.  North (1995). 5  North (1986) 231. 6  Friedland/Alford (1991) 243; see also Brunsson/Olsen (1993) 21. 7  North (1986) 234. North (1988) 12. Denzau/North (1994) 4. Priddat (2005) 111 and 119. 8  Hull/Boll (1994) 449. 3 4

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

2.1

33

The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

2.1.1 A Right Is Only Worth as Much as It Can Be Exercised: The misthophoria According to Aristotle, an essential characteristic of the citizen is that he participates both in the courts and in government. Although this connection between judicial activity and citizenship was not tied to a specific constitution, it was more widespread in democracies than in other forms of government9 No other polis implemented this principle as consistently as Athens, where the courts, assembly, and council of 500 were considered essential democratic institutions: from which date the constitution has continued down to its present form, constantly taking on additions to the power of the multitude. For the people has made itself master of everything, and administers everything by decrees and by jury courts in which the people is the ruling power.10

The participation (μέθεξις) of all was the guiding principle of Athenian democracy par excellence, which is why no social, legal, or economic hurdles should bar access to the council, the assembly, and the courts.11 Even the assumption of certain offices, which in the fifth century had still required membership of the upper Solonian census classes, was in practice detached from such formal criteria.12 Therefore, it can be considered a milestone, if not the actual birth of democracy in the narrower sense, that all citizens should be enabled to participate politically, not only theoretically but also practically. In this sense, in Periclean times, a remuneration (μισθός) was first issued to jurors – regardless of economic status – for their activity.13 Shortly thereafter, council members also received an allowance, as did magistrates, who were certainly paid from the late 430s onward14 to participate in community governance and administrative activities.15 Participation, essential to the functioning of the polity, was enormous in the fourth century: each year about a  Aristot. pol. 1275 a 22–33 b 5 with 1275 b 5–6.  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41.2 . 11  On participation as a political principle in Athens, see Lys. or. 6.48. Aristot. pol. 1275 b 18–21. Bordes (1982) 491–492. Lotze (1985). Manville (1990) 7–11. Walter (1993) 22. Funke (2010). 12  Schmitz (1995b). Nevertheless, the formal criteria were not abolished even in the fourth century. See Blösel (2014). 13  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 27, 1–4. Aristot. pol. 1274 a 8–9. Plut. Pericles 9, 2–3. See on the δικαστικὸς μισθός Podes (1994) 95–105. 14  The earliest reference to allowances for magistrates is represented by IG I3 32 l. 8–9 (approx. 449–447). 15  Cf. the reasoning in Plat. Gorg. 515 e. Aristot. pol. 1274 a 8–9. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 27,1–4. Plut. Pericles 9.1–3. – Elsewhere, too, participation in political business was salaried, see on this de Ste. Croix (1975), for example because it involved considerable extra effort, as in the Boeotian koinon (Hell. Oxyrh. 19.4). Similarly, ‘demagogues’, as Aristotle calls them, introduced remuneration in Rhodes in the early fourth century (Aristot. pol. 1302 b 21–24 and 1304 b 25–31). See also below Sect. 4.2.1. 9

10

34

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

quarter of the citizens had to commit themselves in the council, as magistrates, or as jurors, in addition to the minimum of forty assemblies per year.16 Even if slavery was a ubiquitous phenomenon, without which such a degree of civic engagement was unthinkable, and even if not every activity in the service of the community constituted full-time employment, most Athenians needed economic compensation for work absences; the misthophoria therefore created the economic basis for potentially all citizens to “rule and be ruled in turn”.17At the same time, the introduction of the misthoi from the beginning was linked to the idea of providing extra income for poorer fellow-citizens – at least this is how it seems in the episode reported by Pseudo-Aristotle: Pericles had introduced the jury pay because he could not compete with the wealth of Kimon. The latter, in fact, had granted subsistence (τρέφειν) to many demots by providing a daily ration to those who approached him for it, and by making the yields of his landed property accessible.18 Thus, the centrally provided means of subsistence replaced personal, patronage-like connections and ultimately rendered them obsolete. Similarly, the allowance for attending the assembly was enshrined in discourse as a financial benefit for the poorer classes of Athens,19 which is why it can be speculated that it was perhaps intended as a substitute for the diobelia (“two obol pay”), which had been abolished in 40520 – and this despite the fact that the loss of naval revenues and debts to Thebes and Sparta did not exactly ease the financial situation.21 Pay was therefore closely interwoven with the idea of direct democracy,22 while oligarchies considered archai as honorary services that should not require remuneration.23 For this reason, the oligarchic regimes both of 411 and of 404 discontinued the payment of magistrates,24 while 410 the democratic restoration resumed the payment. The question of whether misthophoria should also secure the participation of all classes again after 403 has lately given rise to discussion.25 Hansen, in  If we estimate about 30,000 adult Athenians (approx. 360) and 6000 dikasts, 500 bouleutai and about 700 magistrates, then this corresponds to about a quarter of the citizenry. – On the number of officials, see Hansen (1980b). His calculation is widely accepted, for example by Stockton (1990) 111–112 and Liddel (2007) 229. 17  Aristot. pol. 1332 b. Cf. also 1261 a–b and 1317 b. 18  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 27.3. see also Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 89 and 135. Plut. Kimon 10.1–2. 19  Aristoph. Eccl. 380–388 and 547–548. Plut. 329–331. Schmitz (1988) 203–204. Spielvogel (2001) 125. 20  The διωβελία was issued during the occupation of Decelea (413–404) in the period between 410 and 405 in order to provide the rural population that had migrated to the city with a livelihood beyond the jurors’ and council members’ payments. The two obols issued daily amounted to between two and eight talents per prytaneia (IG I2 304 A = IG I3 375). See on the diobely Xen. hell. 1,7,2. Aeschin. 2,76. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 28,3. Aristot. pol. 1267 a 41–b 3. Valmin (1965). Podes (1992). Spielvogel (2001) 124–125. blok (2015). 21  Thebes: two talents (Lys. or. 30,22). Sparta: unknown sum ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 40,3). 22  See, for example, Aristot. pol. 1320 a 17–18. 23  [Xen.] Ath. pol. 1:13 and 16. 24  Thuc. 8.67.3. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 29.5. 25  See Pritchard (2014) and Hansen (2014) for the controversy. 16

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

35

particular, advocated that, although compensation was again paid for the expenses incurred in serving on the council,26 in the courts,27 and shortly thereafter for attending the ekklesia,28 the approximately 700 office-holders  – except for the nine archons, five overseas magistrates, and the ten29 ephebic supervisors  – remained amisthoi.30 Accordingly, the Athenians would not have recanted31 this measure of the oligarchs of 405/4 as a concession to the critics of democracy – after all, misthophoria, because it enabled the masses to participate in the business of government, was and remained the object of oligarchic, elitist disapproval,32 while unpaid office-­ holding was associated with an idealized image of patrios politeia.33 Gabrielsen had already argued at length against Hansen’s position in 1981, making it clear that the remuneration of magistrates was to be expected after the restoration of democracy in 403/2.34 Pritchard took up the debate again in 2014, restating the arguments and source evidence put forward by Gabrielsen for the remuneration of all archai: Many of the magistracies were very time-consuming,

 Hansen (1979a) 15–16.  Aristoph. Eccl. 687–688 and Plut. 277. 28  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41.3. 29  Archons and overseas magistrates: [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 62.2.  – Ephebic supervisors: [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42.3.  – On the synonyms of μισθός, τροφή, and σίτησις used in these passages, see Gabrielsen (1981) 67–81 and 151–155. Loomis (1998) 26 note 60. – At times λῆμμα also functioned as a synonym for μισθός, for example in Aristot. pol. 1318 b 15–16. Demosth. or. 3.34. Isocr. or. 8.130 and 15.152. 30  Hansen (1979a), (1995) 249–251 and (2014). He was followed, for example, by Taylor (2001a, b) 574 and Rosivach (2011) 182 note 3. 31  Hansen (1979a) 18. – Based on the silence of the relevant sources (Demosth. or. 24,96–101. IG II2 1672 . [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 62,2), he argues, among other things, that magistrates were usually not fully employed and that they compensated for their service in other ways: just as magistrates in the sacral sphere were compensated by sacrificial shares, products of the temple land and meals on the occasion of festivals (for example IG II2 334 l. 10–16; 1672 l. 255–258. IG II3 447 l. 37–88. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 62.2), strategoi, dockyard workers, or officials in charge of the judiciary, for example, could remunerate themselves through corruption and misuse of public funds, according to Hansen (1980a) 111–119 and (1995) 250–251. More specifically on strategoi: Hypereid. 1,24–25. Hansen (1980a) 113–114 and (1995) 250. On the shipyard workers: Demosth. prooim. 48,2–3. Hansen (1980a) 112–113 and (1995) 251. On the officials charged with the judiciary: Hansen (1980a) 118–119 and (1995) 251. 32  [Xen.] Ath. pol. 1,13. 33  For example, Isocrates (or. 12,145–146) drew an idealized picture of the patrios politeia, as magistracies whose holders received no financial compensation for their temporal and personal burden, thus resembling liturgies. According to Isocrates, the exercise of office was therefore, on the one hand limited to that circle of persons who could afford it, while on the other hand the magistracy brought prestige with it. Isocrates had not himself assumed any offices and legitimized his passivity with leiturgia and eisphorai (Isocr. or. 15,145; 150 and 152). – See on Isocrates and the public pay Gabrielsen (1981) 119–146. Hansen (1995) 251. Pritchard (2014) 14–15. 34  Gabrielsen (1981) and (2013) 333. He was followed by Rhodes (1985a) 695 and (2013) 206. Loomis (1998) 182 note 34. Burke (2005) 34. 26 27

36

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

whereby corruption as a form of material compensation for the activity not tolerated.35 It was precisely the self-administration of the polis as a matter for all citizens that constituted a fundamental principle arising from the demand for transparency of operations. The de facto exclusion of unavailable citizens would have transformed administrative activities into arcane knowledge. In line with this, formal economic criteria – membership of the three upper Solonian classes – also became less important for certain functions in the fourth century.36 This was also necessary for purely demographic reasons: Some 650–700 officials were needed each year.37 At the same time, the cost of paying the magistrates was relatively low: Based on the list in Pritchard, who estimated the time required by the various archai,38 if we take a daily rate of three obols – the triobolon represented the common amount of all types of misthophoria since Cleon and initially still corresponded to the minimum daily wage of a craftsman39 – we can roughly calculate how many talents the magistrates required per year. Of the 656 offices listed by Pritchard, 219 represented full-time employment, while 123 magistracies required their holders only about half the time. The remaining 314 archai could be done with little effort. If we assume a total of 275 working days,40 then we can reckon with about eight talents, and with adjustments to the wage level in the course of the fourth century, with about sixteen talents. Moreover, the pay of the magistrates matches the findings for the other allowances. In 403 the Athenians not only restituted the democratic constitution and put government, administration, and jurisdiction back into the hands of all citizens, but they also considerably expanded the possibilities of participation. At the end of the 5th or the beginning of the fourth century, certainly before the end of the 390s, the

 Pritchard (2014). He justifies his view in three ways: First, the Athenians did not tolerate magistrates enriching themselves on the occasion of their work; second, Athenians of little means also took on such archai, which were time-intensive and therefore could not be performed alongside earning a living; and third, there is evidence – for example, Isocr. or. 7,22–24 and 15,145–146 – for misthophoria in the fourth century. See also Gabrielsen (1981) 88–119. 36  Schmitz (1995b). 37  The pseudo-Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia names a total of 329 office bearers. Hansen (1980b), however, was able to make the much higher number plausible. See also above Sect. 2.1.1 note 16. 38  Pritchard (2014) 12. 39  See on the daily earnings of a workman below note 46. 40  If one calculates, as Hansen (1995) 260 does for the council, with a normal year of 354 days and about 75 hemerai aphesimoi and apophrades, then one can assume that a fully employed archon was busy on about 275 days. 35

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

37

6000 Athenians who were the first to gather on the Pnyx received three obols.41 According to this, it was relatively late, about fifty years after the introduction of the misthophoria for jurors, council members, and magistrates, that the “lord demos of the Pnyx”42 also received a μισθός. In the course of the fourth century the various misthoi were increased and adjusted to the current price and wage level: In Aristotelian times, ecclesiasts received nine obols for the monthly ekklesia kyria or six for the remaining three ekklesiai of the respective prytaneia,43 council members five (or six if they acted as prytaneis), the nine archons four, and the archon for Salamis six obols.44 Since the various activities usually took only a few hours, the misthophoria remained below the daily earnings of a worker, who could expect about six obols.45 In contrast, the remuneration of magistrates remained the same for about a hundred years since the elevation by Kleon in 42546 (though suspended under the oligarchic governments of 41147 and 40448). Obviously, dicast activity seemed attractive to certain circles  – either because they were not dependent on wage payments or because they had no other means of earning money, e.g. due to age or physical infirmities; after all, three obols could at least cover an individual’s subsistence level.49

 At first Agyrrhius made the proposal to pay each ecclesiast one obolos. Heracleides, however, outbid the proposal and raised it to two obols, which is why allegedly Agyrrhius in turn held out the prospect of three obols for participation in the assembly. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41.3. See on the political constellation Funke (1980a) 116–117. – The reinstitution of democracy forms the terminus post quem; terminus ante quem is marked by Aristophanes’ reference to the ekklesiastikon in his comedy Ekklesiazusai in 393/2 or 392/1. On the dating of the Ekklesiazusai, see Funke (1980a) 168–171.  – Yet only the first participants seem to have received symbola, which they could exchange for the misthos at the end of the session (Aristoph. Eccl. 183–188; 289–310; 383–395). Hansen (1986) 93–97 and (1996) 29–31. Gauthier (1993b). This is also suggested by conditions in Carian Iasos in the second half of the fourth century. There, the ekklesiastikos misthos was paid only to those ecclesiasts who had gathered in the assembly area, as long as the water clock installed there and set in motion at daybreak was running (IK 28.1,20). See on the inscription Gauthier (1990). Thus, even if the wording in Athenaion politeia 62.2 suggests that all participants received a reward, at most 6000 tokens seem to have been distributed to all citizens who showed up on time. 42  Δῆμος πυκνίτης (Aristoph. Equ. 42). 43  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 62.2. 44  Ibid. 45  See on wages in Classical times H.-D.  Zimmermann (1974). Loomis (1998). Eich (2006) 198–204, who considers the surviving wages in the Erechtheion account from 408/7 (IG I3 476) and the Eleusis account from 329/8 (IG II2 1672) to be exceptionally high and due to the special situation. Only the skilled workers earned more than one drachma, according to Eich ibid. 201. 46  Schol. Aristoph. Vesp. 88a and 300 b. Schol. Aristoph. Av. 1541 d/e. Schol. Aristoph. Ran. 140. 47  Thuc. 8.67.3. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 29.5. 48  Aristoph. Ran. 140–141 with scholia. 49  Isocr. or. 7.54. Markle (1985) 277–281 even assumes to be able to feed a small family with this wage. – On the composition of the courts, see Markle (1985) 265–267. Bleicken (1995) 245–246. Hansen (1995) 190–192. Spielvogel (2001) 66–69.

41

38

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

In contrast, the rise of the ekklesiastikos misthos and the formulation in the Athenaion Politeia50 indicate that a stronger extrinsic motivation was necessary for the fourth century to attend an assembly (which presumably lasted  only half a day51). While the introduction of the misthophoria in the fifth century was guided by the insight that a right is only worth as much as it can be exercised, and that therefore no one should be excluded for economic reasons, a shift in meaning took place in the fourth century. Although the idea that the polis as a community of equal citizens should rest on the participation of as broad a section of the population as possible was still held to be true, the discussions on the Pnyx, in contrast to the activity of the jurors, seem to have been less attractive.52 The Athenians attempted to counter this by increasing the misthos to do justice to the traditional status of the ekklesia within the institutional structure. The intrinsic motivation was thus joined by an additional extrinsic-economic one: the ekklesiastikon was intended to increase the attractiveness of attending assemblies. It can therefore be assumed that the ecclesiasts had different interests: the “orator” type, who was not financially dependent on the misthos, for whom politics represented a life task and who had the economic resources to pursue it; the “committed citizen” type, for whom attending the assembly formed part of civic identity and for whom the daily allowance meant compensation for lost work; and finally, the type of “free rider” whom the ecclesiastikon motivated to make time for public affairs four times a month, even if economic self-interest outweighed the interest in exchanging arguments and then voting. This last type, like the pay of public officials, was viewed critically in philosophical circles and – pars pro toto – associated with radical (and therefore negatively judged) democracies.53 In this mental constellation, it was only logical that Demetrius of Phalerum not only introduced a census of citizens but also abolished the allowances for attending the assembly and for judicial activity54 – and one can add: for the archai. Aristotle’s remarks superficially fit into this criticism. While he associated the punishment for absence with an oligarchy,55 he  characterized the developed, ­chronologically youngest democracy primarily by referring to the fact that the polis was larger, had a lot of income, everyone participated in the government, and “all actually take part in it and exercise their citizenship because even the poor are enabled to be at leisure by receiving pay”.56 And inasmuch as the ultimate forms of democracy tend to have large populations and it is difficult for their citizens to sit in the assembly without pay, and this in a state where there

 [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41.3.  Hansen (1995) 141. 52  Cf. also the “red rope” with which visitors to the agora were urged onto the Pnyx (Aristoph. Ach. 17–22). 53  Cf. for example Plat. rep. 565 a 1–5. 54  Habicht (1995a) 68. 55  Aristot. pol. 1292 b 41–1293 a 10; 1294 a 37–41 and 1317 b 35–38. 56  Aristot. pol. 1293 a 1–10. 50 51

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

39

do not happen to be revenues is inimical to the notables [20] (for pay has to be obtained from a property-tax and confiscation, and from corruption of the law-courts, which has caused the overthrow of many democracies before now),—where therefore there happen to be no revenues, few meetings of the assembly must be held, and the law-courts must consist of many members but only sit a few days, for this not only contributes to the rich not being in fear of the cost of the system even if the well-off do not take the pay and only the poor do.57

Aristotle thus distinguishes two situations here: Only if the polis has sufficient income and therefore does not need to burden the rich citizens, the ekklesiastikos misthos poses no threat to social peace. One might think, for example, of revenues from customs duties or mines.58 If, on the other hand, a polis does not have such sources of money or if the expenses for the court and the assembly exceed the income, he qualifies the compensation of expenses as a measure of redistribution by which the wealthier would be unjustly harmed: They would then have fear payment of direct levies not legitimized by war, and also expropriation and unfair treatment in court. As solutions, he suggests limiting the frequency of meetings of assemblies and courts, in addition to limiting compensation only to the needy. The question, therefore, is which category did Athens fall into: how much did the misthoi cost? By what income could they be covered? In short, did Athens succeed in continuously financing democratic institutions without burdening citizens? To get an approximate idea of the financial magnitudes, the expenses can be estimated as follows: Assuming forty regular ekklesiai a year,59 ten of which required a quorum of 6000 and the remaining thirty were attended by an average of 4500 Athenians, the annual cost of the ekklesiastikos misthos can be roughly estimated at 37.5 talents. This corresponds approximately to the expenses for the jury pay per year, for which Hansen estimates an amount between 22 and 37 talents.60 Calculating the approximately eight or sixteen talents raised for the remuneration of the magistrates, and the fifteen talents for the members of the council, a total of approximately 100.5–105.5 talents can be expected. In addition, the public slaves (demosioi), who were attached to the officials as hyperetai in various fields, incurred further costs for purchase and maintenance, remuneration, and sometimes their own

 Aristot. pol. 1320 a 18–25 .  Cf. also Demosth. or. 24,97–99. There the speaker emphasizes how important it is for the functioning of the public institutions, especially the council and the assembly, that the tele were received in time. 59  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43.4–6. See for discussion of whether the Athenians could hold more assemblies in one prytany than the four mentioned in Pseudo-Aristotle, Hansen (1977) and (1987b). E. M. Harris (1986) and (1991). Pritchett (2001) 192–201. 60  Hansen (1995) 195. 57 58

40

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

housing.61 How many demosioi worked for the polis is unknown; since until 350 a 300-man strong troop of Scythian slaves armed with bows functioned as a force of order to intervene at assemblies and court sessions if necessary, more than a thousand unfree persons can be expected.62 If we assume that a slave had to get along with less than a citizen, and if we, therefore, assume a low calculation of two obols per day for food, clothing, and housing for 1000 slaves, then we have to calculate with an amount of 20 talents, thus with 700 demosioi with 14 talents in the time after 350. All in all, we can calculate approximately 111.5–117.5 talents, i.e. about 100–130 talents. What is the relation between this expenditure and the income?

2.1.2 The System Is Self-Financing: Fines, Confiscations, Court Fees Not only was the institution of law courts considered an essential characteristic of democracy, but also the litigiousness of the Athenians was legendary.63 Two strategies were intended to help reduce the expense of jury pays: Private petty cases no longer went before a dikasterion of at least 101 men in the fourth century, but first before a magistrate or an arbitrator. And only if no agreement was reached did they go to court, to reduce the number of cases heard in the long term.64 In the short term, moreover, the solution proposed by Aristotle was applied by reducing the number of days in court: In times of financial constraints, such as in the 360s or 348 after the Euboea campaign, the courts did not handle private cases.65 Conversely, this meant

 Harpocr. s. v. δημόσιος. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 50.2 and 65.4 (hyperetai). IG II2 1672 l. 4–5 (reward). Aeschin. 1.54; 58 and 62 (dwelling). – See on these Jacob (1928). Hansen (1995) 126–127. Ismard (2015). – For example, at least eight slaves assisted the B3 in all matters (Demosth. or. 19.129. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47.5 and 48.1. SEG 24.163) and others were assigned to the archons to assist in the drawing of the jurors ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 63–65; 69.1). The eleven appointed an unfree for tortures and executions (Plat. rep. 439 e and Thg. 129 a. Aeschin. 2.126), others checked the silver content of coins in Piraeus (SEG 26.72 l. 36–44 = Hesperia 43 (1974) 157–188 = HGIÜ 221 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 25) or watched over official copies of public weights and measures (IG II2 1013 l. 37–43). The latter inscription dates from the second century, but certainly demosioi undertook similar tasks even earlier. Moreover, ergatai worked, for example, for the hodopoioi, who took care of the construction and maintenance of the roads ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 54.1), or they undertook the menial tasks associated with the office of astynomoi. The astynomoi were responsible for the safety and cleanliness of the roads ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 50.2. IG II2 380). Rhodes (1985a) 573–574. they were also employed in temple construction; in 329/8 there were 18 public slaves working in the Eleusinion (IG II2 1672 l. 4–5). 62  And. 3.5. Aeschin. 2.173. Aristoph. Ach. 54 with schola. Plat. Prot. 319 c. 63  Cf. for example Aristoph. Nub. 206–208: “See, here’s a map of the whole earth. Do you see? This is Athens. – What do you say? I don’t believe you; for I do not see the dicasts sitting.” 64  On Athenian law in general, see A. R. W. Harrison (1968–1971). MacDowell (1978). 65  [Demosth.] or. 45.4 (360s). Demosth. or. 39.17 (after Euboea campaign). This had already been tried towards the end of the Peloponnesian War (Lys. or. 17,3). 61

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

41

that the courts only met when funding was ensured; otherwise, they suspended hearings. The annual costs were estimated to be between 22 and 37 talents.66 Basically, two factors are relevant to the economic aspect of the judiciary: First, there were no professionals for the prosecution. This task was assumed in Athens by citizens who, if they failed to convince one-fifth of the jurors, had to pay a fine. In public prosecutions, this amounted to 1000 drachmas,67 in private trials to one-sixth of the amount in dispute.68 Secondly, Athens did not allow  for prison sentences: Minor offenses were sanctioned by fines, while more serious ones always entailed the complete confiscation of property – combined with atimia, exile, or execution.69 Accordingly, every trial meant a gain for the public treasury, whether in the form of fines, expropriations, or court fees of three to thirty drachmas.70 The amount of the above-mentioned revenues can only be roughly estimated to give an approximate order of magnitude. The following indications can be given for the court fees: Assuming about 200 court days,71 on which on average four courts72 were sitting at the same time73 hearing four cases, if the court fees averaged 16.5 drachmas per case, this amounts to eight talents and 4800 drachmas. Also, there was the sale of confiscated property. Expropriations were not limited to large-scale political proceedings that made it into the literary tradition. Only rarely did the auctioning of confiscated property take on such proportions as in the profanation of the Eleusinian Mysteries74 or as in the expropriation of the Thirty.75 The property of private individuals passed into the hands of the general public when someone could not pay his debts to the polis,76 embezzled public funds,77 commited

 Hansen (1995) 195.  Demosth. or. 53,1–2. Hansen (1975) 29–30. 68  Demosth. or. 47.64. Lipsius (1905–1915) III 937–939. 69  Demosth. or. 21,45. 70  Poll. 8,38. Demosth. or. 47,64. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 59,3. 71  Hansen (1979c). Bleicken (1995) 248. Hansen (1995) 192. Spielvogel (2001) 66. 72  Hansen (1995) 193 (at least three, probably four or more). 73  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 67.1. 74  IG I3 421–430. Langdon (1991) P 1. Rohde (2019b). On the political background to the incidents, see Mann (2007) 244–261. 75  SEG 32,161. Langdon (1991) P 2. Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 181. See M. B. Walbank (1982). Hallof (1990). Fornara/Yates (2007). 76  See on the legal process A. R. W. Harrison (1968–1971) II 211–217. In the ἀπογραφή the poletai were usually, but not always, involved. For example, in apographai against defaulting trierarchs, the apodektai received the proceeds of sale from confiscated property (IG II2 1604–1632). Only in two exceptional cases did the poletai receive the payments (IG II2 1610 l. 3–4 and 1631 l. 429–441). Langdon (1991) 58 note 7. 77  Lys. or. 30,25 (death penalty which was automatically connected with confiscation). 66 67

42

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

a premeditated murder,78 transgressed against the gods,79 or intended to abolish the constitution.80 The sale of the confiscated property was the responsibility of the poletai,81 who drew up lists of such disposals and published them on stone.82 The annual number of sales of confiscated property varied considerably. For example, a complete list from 367/6 documents only a single case,83 while a fragmentary one records a total of six auctions.84 Moreover, the profit realized from the sale varied enormously. While the movable property of individuals usually yielded no more than 1000 drachmas,85 spectacular convictions of politicians  pushed up the revenue dramatically. The threat of confiscation of property remained a common tool in domestic political disputes in the fourth century.86 In particular, all forms of treason, including corruption, for which an eisangelia trial was provided, generated additional revenue for the polis. In the period from 432 to 355, at least one-fifth of all strategoi had to justify themselves in such a trial.87 Usually, a conviction resulted in a death sentence (and confiscation of property).88 At times, however, jurors issued more lenient sentences: For example, the defeat of Embata in 356/5 was blamed on Timotheus, among others, who was ordered to pay the horrendous sum of one hundred talents.89  An exception to this is unintentional homicide, since the convict had to go into exile but his property was not confiscated. MacDowell (1978) 117–121. For other offences punishable by confiscation of property, see A. R. W. Harrison (1968–1971) II 178–179. 79  Cf. the scandal when the Eleusinian mysteries were profaned. The goods of the condemned were auctioned off between 414 and 413 (IG I3 421–430). Despite the sacrilege, the proceeds of the sale did not become the property of the gods, although a tenth was probably dedicated to Athena. Cf. And. 1.96. Horster (2004) 82 with note 72. 80  IG II/III3 320. 81  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47.2–3. On these see R. Osborne (1985) 51–54. Langdon (1991) 58–69. – These magistrates worked with the treasurers of the stratiotika and the overseers of theorika. They were subject to special control by the council, as was necessary for officials who operated with public money. The control mechanisms apparently worked excellently; only one case of embezzlement is known (And. 6,49). 82  The sale inscriptions of confiscated property have been collected by Langdon (1991) and include nos. P1–P5, P 14, P 17, P 20, P 24, P 26, P 31, perhaps also P 36, P 42, P 43, P 45, P 47–49, and P 52–56. 83  Langdon (1991) P 6. 84  Ibid. P 26. 85  Lys. or. 19,31. Cf. on the other hand Xen. oik. 2,3, where Socrates states that his property, if he found a good buyer, would be worth five minae. It is to be expected that an auction yielded less than a private sale. 86  For example, in IG II3 320 (= SEG 12,87 = HGIÜ 258). On the treason trial as a means of political confrontation in the fourth century see Rohde (2019c). 87  Sinclair (1988) 146–152. Hansen (1995) 225. – J. E. T. Roberts (1976) 179–180, on the other hand, speaks of 46 (or 47) accused generals in the years between 479 and 338, roughly equivalent to one in twenty, and assumes a maximum rate of ten percent. 88  Hansen (1975) 35 note 54. 89  Isocr. or. 15,129. Nep. Timotheus 3,5. 78

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

43

He fled and his fortune fell to the polis. Rhetors also met with corresponding proceedings. Hypereides had accused Philocrates of the disagreeable peace. The latter was found guilty and sentenced to death. He fled, but his property was confiscated and sold in 342/1.90 Likewise, Hypereides instigated a treason trial against Demosthenes, accusing him of having been bribed by Harpalus with twenty talents.91 The Areopagites sentenced Demosthenes to a fine of fifty talents. He fled likewise, so that his property fell to the public treasury.92 Even if the polis community deprived itself of the most capable politicians and generals with such sentences, at least economically, eisangelie procedures were lucrative – at least as long as the convicts did not return.93 If one assumes that strategoi and the aforementioned rhetors belonged to the group of liturgists and that they, therefore, owned real estate worth three to four talents94 and an additional talent in movable goods,95 then it becomes clear how much the annual income from confiscations could vary. As mentioned, neither the number of annual confiscations nor the amount of sales proceeds can be calculated. Nevertheless, one can try to get an approximate idea of the size: Assuming, as an estimate, four confiscations a year at 1000 drachmas, and one conviction every two years of a general or politician who had a fortune of four talents, this amounts to about 2.5 talents a year. It is therefore not unreasonable to assume average revenues from court fees and confiscations per year of about 11 talents. Accordingly, the revenue from fines had to amount to roughly 11–26 talents in order for the money flowing out of the courts to cover the cost of paying the dikasts. Is this realistic? The range of offences that were accompanied by a fine was wide and ranged from poor work performance or delay in public construction projects96 to simple bribery cases in which the public official had to pay 10 times the amount of the bribe. On average, then, to fund the approximately 11–26 talents for jury pay, about one to two talents per month would have to be collected. These sums seem high, but not absurd since the council and other officials could also impose fines of up to 500

 R. Osborne (1985) 52.  Hypereid. 5,3. Plut. Demosthenes 25,2–5. 92  Plut. Demosthenes 26,1–4. 93  Thus Alcibiades received compensation on his return (Plut. Alcibiades 33.3. Diod. 13.69.2). The same may be assumed for Conon. Less important persons, on the other hand, could hardly hope for compensation. Usteri (1903) 119–127 with evidence. – In the case of state debtors, the proceeds of sale were handed over to him or his family if they exceeded the due sum (Demosth. or. 40,20). Langdon (1991) 59. 94  Davies (1971) xxiii–xxiv. 95  Lysias (or. 12:9) even speaks of his keeping at home three talents of silver, four hundred kyzikenoi, a hundred darics, and four silver phialai. 96  Thus, construction documents from Epidauros make it likely that fines were levied for poor work performance and time delays in large-scale construction. Prignitz (2014) 171 and 177–178 with the relevant evidence. 90 91

44

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

drachmas,97 and even an acquittal cost the unsuccessful prosecutor at least one-sixth of the amount in dispute (in private trials) or 1000 drachmas (in public trials). On the whole, then, it can be seen that the jury pay costs about as much as the sum of court fees, confiscations, and fines. The closure of the dicasteries to less ‘lucrative’ private litigation was therefore a convenient means of making up for short-term shortages. Thus, the dikasteria represents a democratic institution in which the equality of citizens was realized without having to rely on other subsidies to any significant extent. Objectively, wealthy Athenians did not have to fear expropriation to finance democratic institutions, as Aristotle had grumbled; thus, viewed in this light, there was no threat to internal cohesion in Aristotle’s sense.98 But what about the subjective assessment of losing one’s fortune in unfair trials? Since an average of two eisangelie trials took place each year,99 and since most orators and generals in the fourth century belonged to the economic elite, the democracy-critical observer may have come to the premature conclusion that one had to fear indictments because of one’s economic status. This perception was further reinforced by the fact that the fines imposed were sometimes unrealistically high in order to drive the convicted into exile.100 In the process, critics of democracy spread the impression that it was dangerous to be rich in Athens.101 The boule, for example, was said to allow more trials to result in confiscation when the public treasury was empty.102 And in an anecdote recorded in Plutarch, a certain Diphilus was tried by Lycurgus around 330 and sentenced to death for tampering with the silver mines he had leased. The sentence of the court was to confiscate all his property of 160 talents and to distribute it among the citizens so that each received 50 (or 100) drachmas.103 Perhaps Aristotle had this case in mind when he stated that “the demagogues of today to court the favor of the peoples often use the law-courts to bring about confiscations of property.”104 However, it is not to be decided whether the defendants received a fair trial or not. As far as can be understood today, economic reasons played no role, neither in the opening of proceedings nor in the sentencing; even Diphilus, as can be inferred from Plutarch’s words, was justly accused.105 Neither Isocrates nor Aristotle evaluated statistics but relied on their subjective perception, which was anchored in reality insofar as political trials, in the case of a conviction, amounted to the expropriation of property, and those in the public eye were usually wealthy. An additional factor  The council could decide on fines of up to 500 drachmas (Demosth. or. 47,43). – Disobedience to a magistrate was rewarded with up to 50 drachmas (IG I3 82 l. 26). – The eleven could impose fines of up to 50 drachmas (Aeschin. 3,27 with IG I3 82 l. 26). 98  Aristot. pol. 1320 a 18–25 . See above Sect. 2.1.1. 99  Sinclair (1988) 146–152. Hansen (1995) 225. 100  Thus, Plutarch (mor. 605 f.) reports about Timotheus. 101  Isocr. or. 15,159–160. 102  Lys. or. 30,22. 103  [Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus 843 d. 104  Aristot. pol. 1320 a 5–6. 105  [Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus 843 d. 97

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

45

here was that each vote carried equal weight in the dicasteries, and the wealthy faced envy in court due to their financial betterment.106 In addition, the lists of confiscated assets were publicly posted to make these harsh punishments transparent. Critics of democracy, however, could also suspect such publications to be a sign of complacency on the part of the demos to have made a wealthy person poor for the benefit of the community. Ultimately, however, the notion that wealthy people were indicted for the sake of their wealth was a phenomenon attributed to both democracies and oligarchies, and was meant to highlight the illegitimacy of the system – after all, the Thirty were blamed for “convictions” and confiscations to fill empty coffers.107 The Athenian court system, it can be concluded, had reached equilibrium in the fourth century: the income from court fees, fines, and confiscations more or less balanced out the costs of compensating the expenses of the jury pay. The room for manoeuvre was therefore limited. Due to the fundamental importance of the courts for the Athenian self-image, abolition of the allowance would have been out of the question; an increase in the salary, however, was also not necessary for the functioning of the legal system – apparently, it was not even discussed. As long as enough citizens could be found to take on this task, no reason was seen to increase the remuneration. At the same time, however, this also seems to express lower esteem for the judgment than for the council and assembly activities. What, on the other hand, was the situation with regard to the costs of the misthoi for the magistrates, ecclesiasts, and members of the Council, or the maintenance of the demosioi? Could the necessary 75–105 talents be raised without directly burdening the wealthy with taxes?

2.1.3 Exploiting the “Natural” Resources: Revenues from Trade, Mining, and Metics Among the revenues that the Athenians could continuously dispose of – albeit in fluctuating amounts – were first and foremost the income from trade and the silver

 Envy was sometimes even explicitly addressed, for example in Lys. or. 27,10–11: “And here we have come to such a pass that those who formerly, in the period of peace, were unable even to support themselves, are now contributing to your special levies, producing dramas and dwelling in great houses. (11) Yet there was a time when you begrudged others the doing of these things with the means inherited from their fathers; whereas now the city is in such a plight that you are no longer incensed by the thefts of these people, but are thankful for what you can obtain for yourselves, as though it were you who were in their pay, and not they who were robbing you! “Thus also, for instance, in Lys. or. 21,15. 107  Xen. hell. 2,3,21. The property sold in this context, with the exception of the real estate, remained in the possession of the buyers even after the fall of the Thirty. The extraordinary measure is explained by the need to bring about reconciliation within the citizenry. On this, see Loening (1987) 51–52 and 88–97. It may also have contributed to the fact that, in retrospect, it was no longer possible to decide whether a trial had been conducted fairly. 106

46

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

mines. In addition, there were taxes paid by the metics.108 Characteristically, these three “natural” resources were based on rent as the fundamental principle of revenue generation. In the council, mining licenses, customs revenues, and the right to collect the metoikion – in short, all the levies known as τέλη109 – were auctioned annually to private individuals under the direction of the poletai, with provision of surety and in the presence of the treasurers of the stratiotika and the commissioners of the theorika.110 In this process, individuals (or a pentekostarchos in association with others) acquired the right to collect the pentekoste, or two percent of the assessed value of imported and exported goods.111 The import duty on grain, on the other hand, was leased separately.112 In addition, each shipowner had to surrender a fee of one drachma113 as well as a two-drachma submission for Bendis.114 In order to record the trade goods, they had to be declared in the customs house, which was located in the enclosed 900 × 250 m area of the emporion.115 The only surviving data for the amount of customs revenues come from Andocides and mention thirty talents for the year 401 and 36 talents for the following year,116 which corresponded to a value of imported and exported goods of about 2000 talents.117 These sums do not seem spectacular for a city of the size of Athens.118 It is therefore doubtful whether the figures handed down by Andocides were representative of the fourth century: They came immediately from the phase following the Peloponnesian War when trade had not yet really taken off again. Besides, it can be assumed that the group of people who were eligible as buyers in the first place  Likewise, Pseudo-Aristotle (oec. 2,1,5) identified the mineral resources or revenues from land ownership as well as trade and liturgies as the three most important types of revenue of a polis. 109  Cf. for example Xen. vect. 4,19–20. 110  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47,1–2. Xen. vect. 4.20. Harpocr. s. v. μετοίκιον. Demosth. or. 25,57. Poll. 8,99. IG II2 334 = SEG 18,13. – Cf. on the other hand Hallof (1990), who assumes sale and not auction in the case of mining concessions and confiscated property. In the following, however, the assumption of auction will be adhered to, even though the auctions sometimes resembled a sale if no more than the minimum bid was paid. 111  And. 1,133–136. Demosth. or. 35,29–30. 112  [Demosth.] or. 59,27. 113  IG I3 130 l. 6. 114  IG I3 136. 115  The boundaries are inscribed by horoi (IG I2 890 and 892). On this see Travlos (1988) 343–344. – The declaration of goods was of course attempted to be circumvented; to the west of Piraeus was a bay protected by promontories, which is known to have been used as a port for thieves (Demosth. or. 35.28. Strab. 9 p. 395). – An inscripturally preserved law from Cyparissus (IG V.1 1421 = HGIÜ 296, fourth or third century) gives the most detailed information about the procedures: the emporos had to submit a list of goods to the τελώνης both after unloading and before loading. Failure to do so was punishable by ten times the pentekoste (i.e., twenty percent of the value of the goods); incorrect information drew a penalty fee, which was at the discretion of the telones. See also Vélissaropoulos (1980) 208–210. 116  Andocides speaks of “three years ago”, he gave his speech in 400/399, so that a dating into the year 401 is probable. See MacDowell (1962) 204–205 for the dating of the speech On the Mysteries. 117  Möller (2007) 379. 118  French (1991) 32. 108

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

47

was relatively small,119 so that, on the one hand, the total resources were not yet available to drive up the auctions and to provide a correspondingly large number of guarantors.120 For another, competitors were able to collude, forming a kind of cartel and keeping the lease amount artificially low.121 With the economic upswing and the Athenian thalassocracy from about 380 onwards, however, the profits from the port duties increased again. In the absence of reliable indicators to determine Athenian trade volumes, comparisons alone can help: Port duties in Macedonian Methone are said to have been raised from twenty to forty talents towards the end of the 360s by a change in the mode of auctioning.122 Methone was a relatively important trading post in the North Aegean, which has been located a few years ago and where surveys were carried out in the years between 2014 and 2016.123 Excavation reports are still pending, so only a rough outline of the scale can be given: Methone did not have nearly as numerous a population or correspondingly large port facilities as Athens. Considering the forty talents that Methone earned from customs revenues124 and the 200 talents that the Thracian ports under Cersobleptes recorded as customs revenues,125 it does not seem unreasonable to assume that the Athenians received about 100 talents from imports and exports. The revenue from long-distance trade alone, therefore, may have covered the annual cost of the citizens’ participation in the democratic institutions. This is all the more remarkable since the public trading revenues were indirect levies and were borne in good part by non-Athenians: Since the Piraeus functioned not only as the last station of trade voyages but also, and above all, as a  The nearly thirty years of conflict had involved almost the entire Mediterranean world and damaged agriculture in many places. Although Attic agriculture was not dependent on irrigation installations, so that the fields could produce yields again within a relatively short time, vines and olive trees – two products that Attica was able to export – required appropriate care to enable satisfactory harvests. However, some oikoi lacked the manpower to do this, as the male population had been severely decimated. The decline in population eased the supply situation, but at the same time there was a lack of a viable consumer class that could afford goods that went beyond immediate needs. 120  Cf. the episode recorded in [Aristot.] oec. 2,2,22: the revenue from customs duties was relatively low, since the surety had a fixed rate at one talent, and so only the wealthy could provide sufficient sureties. 121  This is what Andocides (1,133–134) accused Agyrrhius of, for example. – Those who profited most from this constellation were those who had some wealth: if we can believe Andocides (1,133–135), the πεντηκοστολόγοι had employed thirty talents and made six talents profit. This is, after all, equal to the cost of about six trierarchies. At least in this period there was not yet any elitist resentment against this kind of economic activity, as it was later formulated by Theophrastus (char. 6,5) in the late fourth century. On the costs of the trierarchy see below Sect. 4.1.2 with note 107. 122  Of all people, the exiled Callistratus, the nephew of Agyrrhius, was responsible for this measure ([Aristot.] oec. 2,2,22). Cf. on the magnitude of the duties also Polyb. 30,31,12. For the location of the episode in the biography of Callistratus see Funke (2018). 123  Hatzopoulos/Knoepfler/Marigo-Papadopoulos (1990). 124  [Aristot.] oec. 2,2,22. 125  Demosth. or. 23,110. 119

48

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

redistribution port, and since many – if not most – emporoi did not possess Athenian citizenship, the revenue from customs duties primarily represented flows of money from outside; the Athenians accordingly profited considerably from those who called at the port of Athens for trade purposes. The migratory flows of people, goods, and ideas typical of a port city therefore were viewed positively, except for a few voices, which is why Athens, unlike Sparta or Rome, never once banished foreigners from the city. Although one in four free adults was a non-citizen permanently living in Athens,126 the expectation of economic gain outweighed the fear of negative consequences of migration127: as foreigners, they had no opportunities for participation and therefore no entitlement to monetary benefits. Since they were denied real estate acquisition, they had to buy daily necessities negotiated on the market and pay rent. If they were suitably wealthy, they consumed luxury goods and contributed to religious and military expenses like citizens. In addition, in certain cases, they were obliged to render the xenikon or pornikon in addition to the metoikion. Thus non-Athenians who offered their goods at the market had to pay a special stall fee, the ξενικὸν τέλος. This levy is attested only once in a Demosthenic speech in which the xenikon telos is used as an indicator of the status of a metic.128 The designation suggests that Athens wanted to skim off a portion, albeit a small one, from the trading profits that were not earned by citizens and therefore may have flowed outside. This seems to have been relevant especially on great market days on the occasion of supra-regionally important festivals.129 Similarly, male and female prostitutes were subjected to a special tax (πορνικὸν τέλος).130 Since Athenian citizens prostituted themselves only under danger to their very life, this telos also particularly affected metics or metic women.131 Apart from the prohibition to acquire land and to purchase mining licenses at auction, both these tele were the only hurdles that strangers, especially metics, had to overcome on the Athenian “labor market”; in all other respects they were on an equal footing with Athenians. We hear very little of either levy, which has its primary reason in the fact that they were to be paid by the most invisible groups of people in the tradition  See Sect. 2.2.2 below for population figures.  In Classical times, the connection between migration and prosperity was common. For example, Xenophon (vect. 2,1) remarks in his Poroi: The metics would be the perfect source of income, since they cost nothing, but provided services for the polis and demanded no remuneration. Cf. also Isocr. 8,21. See further evidence in Bakewell (1999) especially 10–13. 128  Demosth. or. 57,34. Cf. in addition Anec. Graec. I p. 267 Bekker s. v. ἰσοτελεῖς. Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926) II 1118. Migeotte (2014a) 514. 129  For example, during the Great Dionysia, which coincided with the opening of the shipping season and attracted visitors from all over, one of the largest markets in the entire Mediterranean world was held. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 424. 130  See Lenschau (1953). 131  Prostitution was punishable by death (Aeschin. 1,87) or atimia (Aishin. 1,160) for Athenian citizens. This applied both to men who prostituted themselves (Aeschin. 1,19–20) and to those who instigated a citizen to do so (Aeschin. 1,72). Similar punishments must have applied to Athenian women. 126 127

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

49

in the first place. Moreover, the two tele do not seem to have been particularly high and therefore not remarkable. The same applies to the metoikion; none of these levies were intended to prevent “Lydians, Phrygians, Syrians, and other barbarians”132 from settling in Athens. From the fifth century onwards, metics had to pay twelve – or single metics six – drachmas per year.133 The polis leased the right to collect the tax from strangers living permanently in Athens to private individuals, which brought in an estimated twenty talents, but probably more.134

 Thus the origins of the metics in Xen. vect. 2,3. Cf. also the list of the possessions of Cephisodorus, whose property was confiscated and sold in the course of his conviction for desecration of the mystery in 415 (IG I3 412). Among them were five slaves – i.e. prospective metics – from Thrace, three from Caria, two from Syria, two from Illyria, one Scythe, one Colchian and one Lydian. 133  Harpocr. s. v. μετοίκιον. – The metoikia as a special status had emerged since the Periclean citizenship law, according to Whitehead (1977) 151–154, so it can be assumed that the metoikion was established at this time, according also to Adak (2003) 53 and Wijma (2014) 159.  – The term ‘metic tax’ has come to be used for the metoikion, but this term does not capture the nature of the levy: taxes are defined as ‘transfers of money (or even in kind) which the tax debtor is compelled to make without entitlement to consideration; the recipient is the tax creditor, who authoritatively establishes the modalities for determining and paying the individual tax debt’, according to Schmidt (1980) 123. To the modern eyes, the coercion – and thus the fiscal nature – of the metoikion manifests itself in the fact that metics could not resist this levy, but it was imposed on them by a group of citizens to which they themselves did not belong: The metoikion was a resource transfer that involved consideration and increased the resource stock of the polis; the amount was thereby not negotiated on the market but set by the polis. This is true, metics had to pay a levy over which they had no influence, but only as long as they were in Athens, that is, as long as they received something in return. The compulsion, therefore, bears a different character from the compulsion in the levying of taxes: it is a payment for the duration of residence in Athens, similar to a city tax. It was therefore the hallmark of metic status, but was not inevitably viewed negatively. For example, Xenophon (Xen. vect. 2, 1) values the metoikion as the best way to increase public revenue: “For in them we have one of the very best sources of revenue, in my opinion, inasmuch as they are selfsupporting and, so far from receiving payment for the many services they render to states, they contribute by paying a special tax. .” At the same time, he proposes (vect. 2.2) to relieve “them of the duties that seem to impose a certain measure of disability on the resident alien without conferring any benefit on the state” Instead, they should be allowed to participate in what seems honorable, such as serving in the cavalry or acquiring undeveloped land within the city walls (Xen. vect. 2, 5–6). – Thus, even if paying a metoikion was not necessarily perceived as an honor-reducing taint, the form in which it was collected left room for abuse. Ultimately, buyers bid for the right to collect the metoikion on the premise of obtaining more money than was used. 134  Whitehead (1977) 76.  – The calculation takes into account only male metics. However, the proportion of female, single metics must have been significant, if one takes into account that metics were also recruited from freedmen: Basically, a distinction must be made between rural and urban areas. In the countryside, there was a tendency that the fewer slaves there were, the higher the percentage of male slaves. In the city, however, the ratio was reversed: if a household could afford only one unfree worker, that worker was usually a female slave who took on a wide variety of work. Since Athens had a large urban center and a relatively high standard of living that allowed most Athenians to acquire at least one unfree, it can be assumed that the number of female slaves was relatively high. 132

50

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

The last and largest source of income for Athens was the silver deposits, which were exceptional by Greek standards.135 The mines belonged to the community so that only the polis could grant permission to exploit mineral resources. Only Athenian citizens were able to acquire land and therefore mining concessions for three or seven years,136 which is why the polis intervened137 in the inheritance, leasing, and sale of land parcels, and only a few metics who were awarded the isoteleia are known to have leased tunnels.138 The lease sums for mining shafts, washing tables, or smelting sites ranged from 20 to 9000 drachmas and show that there were small buyers in addition to large investors,139 while members of the economic elite are disproportionately underrepresented in the lease registers.140 The silver ore was considered to be of very high quality, yet about 1000 kilograms had to be mined to obtain about three kilograms of silver.141 After the siege of Attica in the Decelean War brought about a decisive break in mining,142 Athens was forced to mint gold and bronze coins instead of silver coins in the years 407–405,143  Apart from Attica, Thasos also mined silver on a significant scale, while Philip II also had access to the precious metal deposits in the Pangaion Mountains. In earlier times, the Cycladic island of Sifnos was famous for its rich silver and gold deposits (Hdt. 3,57,1–2). Attica also had large iron deposits, but these were not exploited in antiquity. Michell (1957) 121. On the precious metal deposits on Sifnos see Wagner/Weisgerber/Kroker (1985). 136  Lease terms vary from three years for existing mines to seven years for the development of new veins of ore. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47.2. See Crosby (1950) 199–211. Langdon (1991) 60. 137  Burford (1993) 49. 138  They were individually granted the privilege of isoteleia, which enabled them to obtain a leasehold license like any citizen (Xen. vect. 4,12). Perhaps it is significant that the only example of this privileged group of people is a person from the formerly precious-metal-rich island of Sifnos. Although no sweeping conclusions may be drawn from the fragmentary text, it is known from other lease lists that isolated Sifnians had received the privilege of enktesis ges and owned land in southern Attica. Crosby (1950) 205–265 no. 5. 139  The low sums apparently result from the fact that here are listed the dues which were to be delivered in each prytany, according to Hopper (1953) 237–239 contra Crosby (1950) 203–204, who assumes annual sums. Both positions may refer to [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47.2. 140  Eich (2006) 408 with note 173 contra Crosby (1950) 204. Shipton (2000) 31–37. The lists are summarized in Langdon (1991) P 5–16. P 18–30. P 32–35. P 36 (?). P 37–41. P 43–44. P 50–51. On these διαγραφαί-named documents, see Hopper (1953) and (1968). R.  Osborne (1985) 111–126. Langdon (1991) 60–62. 141  Isager/Hansen (1975) 42. The most productive vein was probably found at Maroneia in the 480s; it provided the Athenians with the opportunity to invest in shipbuilding and to provide the largest fleet contingent in the war against the Persians ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 22.7). – On silver mines in the Lauriotike generally, see Crosby (1950). Hopper (1953), (1961) and (1968). Kalcyk (1982). G. G. Aperghis (1997/8). Shipton (1998). Thür (2004). Eich (2006) 387–412. Migeotte (2014a) 479–483. Shipton (2016). Flament (2019). 142  A large part of the slaves  – Thucydides (7,27,5) speaks of more than 20,000, many of them specialists – had fled. The number probably refers generally to slaves who worked in the Attic chora. – However, there was also a shortage of skilled workers and the elaborate infrastructure could not be maintained during the war years. Workshops were needed for crushing the ore, special washing facilities, cisterns for the indispensable water supply, smelting furnaces, refining furnaces, and residential buildings. See Travlos (1988) 204 for a summary of the work process. 143  Loomis (1998) 244 note 28 and 245 note 33. 135

2.1  The Polis as a Community of Equal Citizens

51

although a turnaround became apparent from the 390s.144 However, it took until the middle of the fourth century before capacities again approached the level of the fifth century and finally surpassed it; the second half of the fourth century represented the period of the most intensive exploitation of Attic silver deposits.145 The surviving lists of the poletai, under whose supervision the mining concessions were auctioned, date from the period 367/6 to about 300146 and provide detailed insight into the economic boom that lasted until the 330s.147 According to Crosby, silver deposits provided the polis with twenty talents in 367/6, but 160 talents in 342/1.148 Since the lists (except for the one from 367/6) are fragmentary, and the income attested from 342/1 may represent an upward outlier,149 the median value of the rental income can only be roughly put at 90 talents. In addition to the rent, 1/24 of the silver extracted had to be delivered.150 If one takes the slag, the archaeologically verifiable waste product of silver extraction, as the basis for the calculation, then on average 8750 kilograms of silver were extracted annually.151 Of this, 365 kilograms went to the polis, which coined this silver into about 85,000 drachmas (or about 14 talents).152 Assuming the average value of the lease income (90 talents)153 and the mined silver (worth about 14 talents), a conservative calculation yields a sum of about 104 talents, which offered the Athenians the possibility to use the extracted silver together with the metoikion income for other public tasks (see Table 2.1). Characteristically, the polis avoided  to build infrastructures itself. Instead, it leased out the revenues. Athens, therefore, did not need to maintain an administrative apparatus but delegated the collection of tele, which involved a great deal of organizational effort, and placed it in the hands of private individuals who were even exempt from military service for this purpose.154 The price was negotiated in  In the 390s the Athenians suspended the “copper money decree” and restored silver (Aristoph. Eccl. 816–822). 145  Vanhove (1996). 146  The earliest evidence Langdon (1991) P 5 dates from 367/6, the latest Langdon (1991) P 51 from about 300. The earlier leases may have been documented only on wood for archiving, whereas in the fourth century the need for transparency of transactions apparently compelled the leases to be published on the agora. Langdon (1991) 61. On the archiving of the wooden tablets, see Posner (1972) 97–102. 147  Vanhove (1996). Silver exploitation declined again from the 330s onwards. Hopper (1953) 252. 148  Crosby (1950) 204. 149  Demosthenes (or. 10.38) called it a lucky coincidence in 341 that total revenues rose to 400 talents. Eich (2006) 389–390 interprets this increase in revenue with new silver deposits. Probably several factors came together in 341; Philocrates’ property was also auctioned in the same year. 150  Suda s. v. Ἀναγράϕου μετάλλου δίκη. 151  According to Conophagos (1980) 145–152, about 3500 tons of silver were mined over a period of about 400 years, which corresponds to an average annual quantity of 8750 kilograms. 152  One drachma had a nominal weight of 4.3 grams. See Kraay (1966) 57 and Rhodes (1985a) 167. 153  See, on the other hand, Flament (2019), who even assumes about 200 talents in lease income. However, he bases his calculation on the list of 342/1, which is probably rather exceptional. 154  Demosth. or. 21,166. [Demosth.] or. 59,27. 144

52

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

Table 2.1  Calculation of average annual revenues from silver mining Lease income Share of silver mined

367/6: 20 talents 342/1: 160 talents 3500 tons of mined silver in about 400 years = an average of 8750 kilograms of mined silver per year

Total revenue

= average 90 talents 1/24 of 8750 kilograms = 365 kilograms per year = about 85,000 drachmas = approx. 14 talents About 104 talents

an auction and was thus intended to ensure the highest possible revenue. However, price-fixing occurred as bidders banded together and kept the auction sum artificially low.155 Why didn’t the Athenians counteract this and set up their structures to collect the duties and taxes or to mine the silver deposits? Apparently, the benefits were estimated to be lower than the profits that could be achieved using an administrative apparatus. Especially in the case of the leasing of the metoikion and the customs revenues, it can be demonstrated that here the costs of setting up an administration were not the only decisive factor: After all, metics were officially registered and public officials kept records of imported and exported goods. Nevertheless, information gathering and control over who and how many had to pay the metoikion were privatized. The polis only took care of the auction and correct payments. Nevertheless, an efficient administrative system could have been set up with few personnel and costs, thus increasing revenues substantially. Nevertheless, the basic principle of the democratic constitution was to refrain as far as possible from building up a bureaucracy, whereas monarchical systems  – e.g. the development of a proper tax apparatus under Augustus, the increasing bureaucratization in late antiquity, or the systematic administration in Ptolemaic Egypt come to mind  – were more likely to develop administrative structures. This is all the more remarkable because the Athenians, with their system of symmories in the military sphere, had experience and organizational models ready for systematizing direct revenues without establishing hierarchies. In the civil sphere, however, people preferred small, secure profits, while they avoided utilizing capital in order to record high proceeds at great risk. This also explains why Xenophon’s proposals in the Poroi on how the polis could make greater profits from the silver mines did not meet with any response.156 Xenophon’s proposals were not put into practice, not only because they seemed unrealistic in two crucial respects, i.e. the number of slaves needed and the inexhaustibility of the silver veins, since he overestimated the magnitudes and underestimated the problems involved (food, lodging, sanitation, supervision),157 But the main problem was that they were revolutionary in essence: After all, the Athenian leasehold system was based on the privatization of tasks, whereas Xenophon advocated the communalization of silver mining: the polis should employ capital and skim off the profits  And. 1,:133–135.  Xen. vect. 4. 157  Xen. vect. 4,25–29. 155 156

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

53

directly. Such rent-seeking, however, was opposed by the economic value system: The lease of customs, for example, was not well regarded,158 and members of the liturgical stratum tended to avoid the risk of investing in silver mining.159 The structure of expenditure was thus oriented towards the equality of all citizens, while the generation of revenue tended to reflect the value system of the elite. And the auction of the lease had another advantage: In contrast to the irregular income from the judiciary, which varied greatly from year to year, the minimum income from the leased resources was known in advance, so that at the beginning of the year it was certain what sums were available. If one estimates the expenses for the democratic institutions at about 100–130 talents160 and assumes that the revenues from the judiciary outweighed its costs,161 then it can be concluded that a hundred talents of customs revenues compensated for the expenses for the council members, the assembly members, the magistrates, and the public slaves. Accordingly, some 130 talents were available to the Athenians each year from the metoikion, pornikon, xenikon, and silver deposits for other purposes. These could be used, for example, for expenses arising from the idea of the polis as a community of fate.

2.2 The Polis as a Community of Fate 2.2.1 Disability Pensions, Orphans’ Pensions, theorika: Support for the Needy In antiquity, no social policy in the modern sense existed to improve the living conditions of economically disadvantaged and socially stigmatized groups, for example, by political actors enforcing adequate remuneration, combating poverty across the board, or seeking to distribute wealth equally162; a duty to support the needy with whom there was no social relationship whatsoever was unknown in pre-Christian times. Athens was an exception, at least in part, because here the outlook for Athenian citizens was gradually brighter.163 In Athens the idea became established that the democratically constituted polis had to secure the subsistence level of its male members.164 The origin of this social obligation was surely to mitigate the  Theophr. char. 6,5.  Eich (2006) 408–409. 160  See end of Sect. 2.1.1 above. 161  See end of Sect. 2.1.2 above. 162  This has already been highlighted by Bolkestein (1939). On poverty in Athens, see Cecchet (2015) and Taylor (2017). – Persons with property up to 200 drachmas were considered poor in the fourth century (Lys. or. 16.14. [Demosth.] or. 42.22. Demosth. or. 21.83 and 95). The lowest subsistence level was an annual 90 drachmas, the middle 150 drachmas, and the top 225 drachmas. See Taylor (2017) 81 Table 3.3. 163  See Gschnitzer (2013) 179–187. 164  Cf. for example Lys. or. 24.22: “For, gentlemen, since heaven had deprived us of the chiefest things, the city voted us this pension, regarding the chances of evil and of good as the same for all alike.” 158 159

54

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

consequences of war: Just as the hoplite had risked his life for the community, so now the community had to pay for the injured hoplite.165 Subsequently, physically impaired Athenians (and not only war-disabled) could be granted a small amount of financial support if they proved that they could not support themselves in a dokimasia by the council.166 A review of entitlement took place both periodically, probably annually,167 and on occasion when its legitimacy was in doubt.168 As a rule, ἀδύνατοι who owned less than three minae received an allowance paid monthly,169 which in the course of the fourth century rose from one obolos a day to two obols,170 until about 300 it finally amounted to five obols.171 The sums must have been barely – or just barely – enough to live on; those affected were dependent on earning extra money in some way, as was the speaker of the 24th oration of Lysias.172 How many people benefited from this public support cannot be said. Since Athens was almost constantly at war, a certain number of war-disabled can be assumed. To these were added other adynatoi. If the needy could only claim this “pension” in case they did not receive any other money from the polis (ekklesiastikon, dikastikon, or pay for council or magistrate activities), this item probably did not consume exorbitant amounts. If one calculates roughly 200 persons who received two obols on 354 days, the support amounted to almost four talents per year. The maintenance of the war orphans can likewise only be estimated in rudimentary terms; the remarks of Aeschines and Isocrates suggest a rather high number of war orphans.173 Orphans (ὀρφανοί) were considered fatherless children174; they were subject to the special protection by the polis, which, as in the case of the epikleroi, had a special interest in safeguarding the civic oikoi (and thus the potential military force), and therefore engaged its highest magistrate, the archon

 The war-disabled were certainly those at whom the support of adynatoi was originally aimed. Therefore it is also attributed to Solon (Plut. Solon 31,2). 166  Lys. or. 24. Aeshin. 1,103–104. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 49,4. See on the disability pension Bolkestein (1939) 273–274. Garland (1995) 35–38. Fischer (2012). More generally on disability in ancient Greece, Matter (1989). M. L. Edwards (1995), (1996) and (1997). Mehl (1996). Garland (1995). Dillon (2017). 167  This can be inferred from Lys. or. 24 and Aeschin. 1,104. So also Fischer (2012) 42 with note 10. 168  Thus, the speaker of the 24th oration of Lysias was accused of illegally drawing a disability pension. 169  This is indicated by the phrase πρυτανείας μισθός used by Aeschines (1,104). Fischer (2012) 42 note 10. 170  Lys. or. 24,26. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 49,4. 171  Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 197b. 172  Lys. or. 24,6. Fischer (2012) 42 and 43. 173  Aeschin. 3.154. Isocr. or. 8.82. 174  For them a guardian (ἐπίτροπος or ὀρφανιστής) acted, who usually came from the immediate family. Frequently this role was assumed by the paternal uncle; often the father entrusted by will several close persons with the administration of the family property until the son could take over the oikos. On orphans in Athens, see generally Cudjoe (2010). Bearzot (2015). 165

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

55

(eponymos), for this task.175 In the middle of the fourth century, he was assisted by the ὀρφανοφύλακες mentioned in Xenophon,176 who may have been responsible only for the orphans of war.177 While in the case of orphans and epikleroi the responsibility of the polis was limited to appointing a guardian, children whose fathers had given their lives for Athens received education, financial support, and the panoply required for fighting as hoplites, associated with a certain social status.178 In the period between the death of the father (or the ceremonial burial of the fallen179) and the presentation of armor as a sign of coming of age, war orphans could count on a subsistence allowance. Following the livelihood of the adynatoi, one can reckon with first one obolos,180 later two obols per day.181 Since the sources do not distinguish between those in need and those not,182 but we know of wealthy persons whose fathers were killed in battle, we can conclude from the comparison with the disability pension that neediness was verified in the council and that only the destitute received the orphan’s pension.183 This certainly also applied to female descendants until their marriage: at the latest since the middle of the fourth century, a similar institution existed in Thasos, which was perhaps based on the Athenian model and contained regulations

 Demosth. or. 26,12; 35,47–48; 37,46; 43,75 and 46,22. Lys. or. 26,12. Aeschin. 1,158. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,6–7. Poll. 8,89. – The supervision of metic orphans was within the competence of the polemarchos ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 58,3). 176  Xen. vect. 2.7. Similar institutions existed at Gortyn (ὀρπανοδικασταί: IC IV 72 col. 12 l. 6–17) and Naupactus (IG IX2 2, 624g and 643: ὀρφανοφύλακες). 177  Stroud (1971) 290. Cudjoe (2010) 215–216. 178  War orphan: Cratinus Frg. 183. Thuc. 2,46,1. Plat. Menex. 248 e 6–249 b 2. Aeschin. 3,154. Isocr. or. 8,82. Aristot. pol. 1268 a 8–11. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 24,3. Diog. Laert. 1,7,55. Aristeid. 1,368. Sch. Demosth. or. 24,20. cf. [Xen.] Ath. pol. 3,4. Lys. or. 2.75. Hyp. 6.42. Goldhill (1987) 63–76. Golden (1990) 40; 215–216. Tsitsiridis (1998) 397–407 (on Plat. Menex. 248 e 6–249 b 2). Cudjoe (2010) 213–218. Orphans of fathers who had given their lives for the restoration of democracy: SEG 28.46. Stroud (1971). – Aristotle (pol. 1268 a 11) names Hippodamus as the author, though this law was also counted among the Solonian ones (Demosth. or. 43.75. Diog. Laert. 1.54. Solon Frg. 145 Ruschenbusch). On this, see Stroud (1971) 288. Rhodes (1985a) 308–309. – Cudjoe (2010) 217 et al. assume, on the basis of the formulations in Aeschin. 3,154, Isocr. or. 8,82 and Hyper. Epit. 42, that the support of war orphans ceased in the course of the fourth century. This, however, is not compelling. – By the obligation to educate the war orphans we probably have to undestand only a general supervision of the polis. Tsitsiridis (1998) 398.  – The scholion to Demosth. or. 24,20 does not name the archon (eponymos), but the polemarchos with supervisory powers. The comparison with Thasos suggests that the polemarchos played a role in the handing over of the panoply (SEG 57,820 l.17) and that other supervisory responsibilities lay with the archon (eponymos). 179  Thuc. 2:46,1. 180  See also the so-called Theozotides decree SEG 28.46 l. 9–10 with Stroud’s (1971) additions to this effect. 181  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 49.4. 182  For example, the children of Diodotus (Lys. or. 32) and those of Cleinias (Isocr. or. 16). 183  Cf. Cudjoe (2010) 214, who lists those individuals – including Alcibiades or the orphaned children of Diodotus – who did not accept an ‘orphan’s pension’. 175

56

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

for both sons and daughters.184 If one hypothetically assumes 500 war orphans, each of whom received two obols on 354 days, the support amounted to just under ten talents per year. If twenty war orphans reached the age of majority each year, then they received high-quality hoplite armor worth an estimated 250 drachmas,185 which then amounted to about one talent. It is not possible to estimate the additional costs: the daughters of the fallen presumably received a dowry,186 and the surviving dependents of metics who had served the polis received financial compensation.187 The meaning and purpose of the care for the war orphans become clear in the handing over of the panoply: it was awarded to the male descendants on the occasion of the Great Dionysia during a symbolic ceremony that enacted the connection of loss, responsibility, and claim to leadership. The sons were to be able to take their fathers’ places in the phalanx.188 In keeping with the recognition of the father’s honorable death in battle for the community, war orphans were probably invited to the prytaneion for meals on the occasion of festivals honoring the fallen.189 These expenses were fully accepted socially, and only in the financially strained period immediately after the Peloponnesian War do we hear of (posthumously) adopted

 SEG 57,820 (approx. 360–350). Since there were similarities between the institutions in other respects as well, such as the delivery of the panoply by the polemarchos, perhaps these circumstances can be transferred to Athens. In Rhodes, around 305, the support of male and female war orphans took the form of a liturgy (Diod. 20,84,3). 185  The inscription from Thasos (SEG 57,820 l. 122–123) mentions 300 drachmas as the minimum cost of a panoply, whereby the Thasian drachma was lighter than the Attic drachma, so that 300 Thasian were roughly equivalent to 264 Attic drachmas. This was to purchase quality panoplies, according to Gröschel (1989) 35. See on this and on the cost of hoplite equipment in Athens in general Németh (2006) 41–50. 186  Aeschin. 3,258. Plut. Aristeides 27. Golden (1990) 40. Pomeroy(1982) 123–127. – Cf. the provision in Thasos (SEG 57,820 l. 21–22) and Rhodes (Diod. 20,84,3). 187  This is not known for Athens, but is known from Thasos (SEG 57,820 l. 32–34). 188  Aeschin. 3.154: “These young men, whose fathers showed themselves brave men and died in war, have been supported by the state until they have come of age and now, clad thus in full armour by their fellow citizens, they are sent out with the prayers of the city, to go each his way and they are invited to seats of honor in the theater.” The panoply is also mentioned in Plato (Menex. 249 a 7) and in the Decree of Thasos (SEG 57,820). The other ephebes in the time of Aristotle received only the shield and lance ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42,4). – See on the symbolic character of the enactment Isocr. or. 8,82 and the apt words of Flaig (2005) 52–53. 189  In SEG 28,46 l. 12 the prytaneion is mentioned. In combination with the Thasos-decree (SEG 57,820 l. 9–11) one can then infer the invitation to specific occasions. For discussion Tsitsiridis (1998) 398–399. 184

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

57

sons and nothoi of men who had died fighting for democracy being excluded from the war orphans’ pension.190 In contrast, the fund for attending dramatic festivals (θεωρικά), which benefited citizens in order to be able to afford entry to the dramatic competitions, was much more present in the inner-athenic discourse.191 For theorika were considered to support the needy.192 Even in antiquity, there was disagreement as to who had introduced the theorikon.193 Although there may have been precursors in the fifth century, it was not until Eubulus, who initiated the theoric fund after the Social War and presided over it from 354 to 350, that public funds were regularly194 used for participation in the Dionysia and Panathenaea.195 All annual surpluses and special

 The proposal made by Theozotides (Lys. Frg. 6) was obviously directed against the abuse of posthumous adoption; normally the kyrios tried to secure the oikos by adopting a person of age inter vivos or by will. The more informal adoption (without the involvement of an official) took place through the introduction into the phratry, so that it became possible to recognize minors as sons of those killed in war. At the same time, it was also directed against the legal practice of the “Thirty” who had overruled a Solonian law that invalidated adoption under certain conditions ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 35). In this perspective, adoptions that took place during the oligarchic rule 404/3 could be considered illegitimate. On this point, see N. W. Slater (1993). 191  Lib. arg. Demosthenes 1,4. Theophilus Frg. 12. Demosth. or. 44,37. Plut. mor. 818 e-f. – On the theorika see generally Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926) II 1143–1145. van Ooteghem (1932). Buchanan (1962). Cawkwell (1963). Valmin (1965). Rhodes (1972) 105–108, 235–240 and (1985a) 513–515. Faraguna (1992) 187–194. E.  M. Harris (1996). Flament (2007) 223–231. P.  Wilson (2011) 38–43. Migeotte (2014a) 433–435.  – On the precursors in the fifth century. Roselli (2009). 192  See Sect. 5.5 below. 193  Plutarch (Pericles 9.1) attributed this to Pericles. Harpocration (s. v. θεωρικά), on the other hand, named Agyrrhius as the originator (see the citation below Sect. 2.2.2 note 357). Probably Harpocration means “distributions” in general and refers to the introduction of the ekklesiastikon, thus Roselli (2009) 11–13. 194  Roselli (2009). 195  Ruschenbusch (1979a). On dating, see also Csapo (2007) 100–103. On the distribution of theorika on the occasion of the Dionysia and Panathenaea: Hesych. s. v. θεωρικὰ χρήματα. [Demosth.] or. 44.37. de Ste. Croix (1964) 191. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 394–395. – On Eubulus, see D. M. Lewis (1957). Cawkwell (1963). Traill (1994–2007) VII no. 428495. Näf (1997). Migeotte (2014a) 433–435. 190

58

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

revenues of the city were to go into the theoric fund.196 From this, citizens received the entrance fees for a festival lasting several days, ranging from one to five drachmas per person.197 However, since the theater seats were sold by an officially appointed architect, the money spent198 went proportionately back into the public purse, most likely into the theoric fund.199 The purpose is clear: to enable as many Athenians as possible to participate in the two most prestigious religious events.200 In public perception, therefore, special attention was paid to the theorika, which is why Demades called them the “glue of democracy”.201 The fund was important above all as an identity marker; being able to claim it verified civic status.202 Accordingly, on the occasion of the two most  From 386 the latest, the apodektai (ἀποδέκται), who were responsible for receiving the public funds, together with the council drew up a merismos, a distribution key which took into account the funds available and the financial needs of the individual official colleges and institutions based on empirical values. The assembly could make changes to the merismos with the help of the nomothetes (IG II2 222 l. 41–46). The first mention of the merismos is in Tod (1968) no. 116 l. 18–22 of 386. See on the merismos Rhodes (1972) 99–101; 218–220 and (2007). Bleicken (1987) 276–277. – It inevitably followed from this procedure, which was based on estimates and therefore inaccurate, that funds remained. After the theoric fund came into being around 350, the undistributed revenues were considered theorika in peacetime. Initially, however, the surpluses were given to military purposes and declared stratiotika ([Demosth.] or. 59.4). Cawkwell (1962a) and (1963) 55–56. Rhodes (1985a) 515. Brun (1983) 170–176. The first mention of the military fund whose overseers officiated for one year ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43.1), is found as late as 374/3 in the so-called Grain Tax Law of Agyrrhius (SEG 48.96 = Stroud (1998) = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 26). See on the law below Sect. 2.2.2 with note 316. On the overseers of the military fund Rhodes (1985a) 513–514. – The merismos possessed two major fiscal advantages: First, it made it easier to plan. Second, each “department” now had a certain budget at its disposal and no longer helped itself from a unified public treasury. This prevented the individual colleges from spending as much as possible as quickly as possible before another college did. 197  A drachma: Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 33. Hesych. s. v. δραχμὴ χαλαζῶσα. Suda s. v. δραχμὴ χαλαζῶσα. Schol. Aeschin. 3.24. The idiom may have originated from a fourth-century comedy, according to Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 395 note 13. Five drachmas: Hypereid. 5.6. – Since the price of a seat amounted to two obols per day (Demosth. or. 18.28), it follows that the theorika were calculated in daily rates of two obols, but were spent on the two festivals as a total amount; in any case, two obols distributed over fifteen days make a total of five drachmas. Similarly PickardCambridge (1970) 266. 198  Demosth. or. 18.28. Aeschin. 2.55. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 396. 199  P. Wilson (2008) 95 Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 396. 200  The fact that the Dionysia and Panathenaea also attracted many foreign spectators who would bring in money would explain that one did not renounce this organizational effort and abolished entrance fees. Accordingly, it would fit into the picture if at the Lenaia, where Athenians were among themselves (Aristoph. Ach. 504), neither entrance fees were charged nor theorika were spent. 201  Plut. mor. 1011 b: κόλλα τὰ θεωρικὰ τῆς δημοκρατίας. 202  Therefore, the revision of the citizen lists in 346/5, when all citizens had to undergo a special examination, is perhaps related to the theorika, according to Buchanan (1962) 64–65. – For this reason, those who had received a theorikon without having a right to citizenship were threatened with heavy penalties. Hypereides (5,6) and Dinarchus (1,56) speak of a talent. The deterrent intention of the threat of punishment is evident, especially for metics, who, if they could not pay the fine, could be sold into slavery. 196

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

59

important festivals of Athens, citizens received an equivalent to the allowances for attending the assembly, or for carrying out the task of a magistrate, juror, or council member.203 If in any place in antiquity there was such a thing as an obligation to financial support, it was in Athens in the thirty-odd years between 354 and 321.204

2.2.2 A Culture of Dependency: Securing the Grain Supplies In addition to the support of citizens in need, the care of war orphans, the issue of theorika, and the remuneration for administrative, judicial, and bouleutic activities, there was also concern for the provision of basic goods. Since the polis in the fourth century, as the largest city in the Greek world, had an urban settlement center of several thousand inhabitants, the supply of water and grain, which provided about three-quarters of the caloric intake needed,205 constituted  one of the most urgent tasks of the polis. The former mainly involved the construction and maintenance of an efficient infrastructure, the supervision of which was entrusted to elected (and not drawn by lot) officials.206 Unlike the water supply, which basically required only a one-time effort and regular maintenance, the grain supply involved a continuous effort. Attica did not offer the best conditions to feed the population or, more importantly, to keep the price of grain low.207 The climate of the Greek core area in the fifth and fourth centuries was approximately the same as today,208 so that the Attic chora was already one of the driest areas in Europe in antiquity.209 Moreover, Attica (in contrast to, for example, Macedonia and Thessalia) had only four smaller plains that offered good conditions for arable farming; only about thirty percent of the  To give an idea of the magnitudes of theorika, the following hypothetical calculation may be helpful: If one assumes a total of fifteen festival days for the Great Dionysia and Great Panathenaea and 15,000 spectators who received two obols each, then the expenditure for the festival payment amounted to about 12.5 talents every four years, whereas in years in which the Small Panathenaea were celebrated, it amounted to no more than six talents. Cf. the calculation of Boeckh (1886) I 284, who, however, assumes 18,000 spectators and 25–30 festival days and therefore arrives at the sum of 25–30 talents. P. Wilson (2008) 91–96, on the other hand, calculates 20,000 drachmas for the five-day Dionysia. Pritchard (2015a) 15 in his few words on the theorika does not comment on their costs. 204  The end of the theorika cannot be determined with certainty; it was probably abolished with the establishment of a minimum census in 321. Hypereides mentions them in his speech Against Demosthenes (5,6) in connection with the Harpalus affair as late as 323. 205  Foxhall/Forbes (1982) 71–73. Rosivach (2000) 32. – See generally on diet in ancient Greece Gallo (1983) and (1989). Dalby (1998). Auberger (2010). 206  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43.1. Election as a means of designating officials was used only in a few cases, for example, for the commissioner of the theoric fund and for the tamias of the stratiotika. See on the water supply of Athens Camp (1979) and (1982). Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 44–45. 207  High expenditures for necessary food inevitably restricted the consumption of other goods. See on the connection between grain price and consumerism Xen. vect. 4,8–9. 208  Sallares (2007) 17. 209  R. Osborne (1987) 33–35. Sallares (1991) 300. 203

60

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

approximately 2400 km2 of land – that is, about 800 km2 – allowed for the cultivation of wheat (πυρός) and barley (κριθή), which was usually practiced as a two-field crop rotation.210 The only concrete figure for the crop yields of Attica and the dependent regions dates from 329/8.211 The inscription from Eleusis puts the grain offerings to Demeter and Kore at 1134 medimnoi of barley and 122 medimnoi, 10 hekteis and 1.5 choinikes of wheat.212 Since around 430 the first-fruits offerings amounted to 1/1200 of the wheat harvest and 1/600 of the barley harvest,213 the amounts given in 329/8 were multiplied by 600 and 1200, respectively, to assess the total production (see Table 2.2).214 The account is based on the supposition that the modes of levy were maintained unaltered for a hundred years; that this is not necessarily the case is shown by the modifications adopted in 353/2.215 In addition, the Eleusinian record of 329/28 is corrupted or defective in places,216 and the data for Imbros include penalty sums for late delivery. Much speculation has been made as to whether the Eleusinian data  The extent to which the Attic land was usable for grain production is highly disputed in the literature. Calculations range from about twenty percent, according to Jardé (1925) 52–53, to about fifty percent, according to Foxhall (1992) 156. The different figures are partly explained by the fact that sometimes no sufficiently clear distinction is made between the various forms of agriculture (cereal cultivation, pasture farming, wine, olive oil and honey production etc.), some of which could also be practiced extensively in the mountainous regions. Here an area of about thirty percent usable for cereal cultivation is assumed. However, even this area was not allowed to be fully exploited every year in order not to completely deplete the soils. Sallares (1991) 373. Therefore Sallares (ibid. 79) assumes an annually cultivated area of 360  km2. A two-field system is also assumed by Isager/Skydsgaard (1992) 108–110 and 112. Burford (1993) 123. – In emergency situations, people certainly abandoned two-field rotation and did not leave fields fallow. So also Isager/ Skydsgaard (1992) 110. Scheer (2012) 534. – Oats (βρόμος), on the other hand, were considered a weed (Theophr. h. plant. 8,9,2) and were only occasionally recommended as a dietary remedy (Hippocr. vict. 2,7). Attica was considered particularly suitable for the cultivation of barley (Theophr. h. plant. 8,8,2). It agrees with this that individual estates had specialized in the cultivation of krithe (Is. 11,43. Demosth. or. 42,20). On the one hand, barley was more frugal as well as more resistant to weather or disease than wheat and usually produced higher yields; on the other hand, barley was less nutritious than wheat, so that larger quantities were needed to provide the body with the same caloric value. Foxhall/Forbes (1982) 44–47. Ruschenbusch (1998) 81.  – Moreover, barley’s low gluten content makes it suitable at most for baking patties (but not loaves), which is why it was usually consumed kneaded with liquid into a porridge (μάζα). 211  IG II2 1672 . See on this inscription Garnsey (1988) 99–101. Pazdera (2006) 85–90. – The figures in the speech Against Phainippus ([Demosth.] or. 42) – on the Phainippian lands over 1000 medimnoi of barley and 800 metretai of wine are assumed to have been produced – are not to be trusted, since the speaker wants to convince the jurors that Phainippus should perform liturgies in his place ([Demosth.] or. 42,3–4). 212  See the overview in Garnsey (1988) 98. 213  IG I3 78 = I2 76 = SIG3 83 = IEleusis 28 = Tod (1968) II 74 = HGIÜ 123. On this inscription, see Cavanaugh (1996) 29–95. Jim (2014) 207–219. On dating, see the discussion in Jim (2014) 208–209. 214  Ober (1985) 23. Garnsey (1998b) 202. 215  IG II2 140. See on this inscription Alessandrì (1980). 216  See Loomis (1995) 131–134. 210

61

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate Table 2.2  Estimated production volume of Attica and dependent islands Cereal Barley

Ancient unit of measurement 1134 medimnoi

Wheat

122 medimnoi 10 hekteis, 1.5 choinix

Total

Total incomea 680,400 medimnoi 35,721,000 liters 18,690,588 kilograms 147,438 medimnoi 7,740,495 liters 4,860,146 kilograms 827,840medimnoi (43,461,500 liters 23,550,734 kilograms)

Yield Attica (rounded)b 339,925 medimnoi 17,846,060 liters 9,337,740 kilograms 27,063 medimnoi 1,420,810 liters 892,105 kilograms 366,990medimnoi 19,266,870 liters 10,229,845 kilograms

One medimnos was roughly equivalent to 52.5 liters. The conversion from liter to kilogram is according to the ratio determined in the Grain Tax Law of Agyrrhius (SEG 48.96): five hekteis of wheat should be one talent, i.e. 27.47 kilograms [Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 125 in the commentary on n. 26], one medimnos of barley the same weight. The weight given is very light in relation to other ancient sources (e.g. Plin. nat. 18,66–70) b Ober (1985) 23 a

reflect a good, bad, or average harvest.217 It also remains unclear whether the aparchai referred to the entire crop, or whether the seed had already been withdrawn,218 and finally whether the farmers declared the yields truthfully at all. If, despite these imponderables, one takes these data as a basis and assumes a daily maximum requirement of one choinix of grain per adult male,219 it is deduced that Attica was

 A poor harvest is assumed, for example, by Clinton (1971) 110–111, Isager/Hansen (1975) 202, Ober (1985) 24, and Garnsey (1998a) 192. Gallo (1983) 451–452, for example, argues for the assumption of an average harvest. 218  Since black soil does not occur at all in the Mediterranean region and natural fertilizer was only available in small quantities, the harvest yielded only three to four times the amount of grain sown, according to Ruschenbusch (1998) 78. Columella also mentions this ratio for Italic agriculture during the imperial period. From these yields the seed still had to be deducted and a shrinkage quantity had to be absorbed. Columella (3,3,3–4) assumes at most four times the yields for imperial Italy and gives a yield of 20 modii (132 kilogram) of wheat per iugerum. After deducting seed grain, this equates to 99 kilograms per iugerum (396 kilogram per hectare). – Except in Egypt with its fertile Nile mud and the islands of Sicily and Lemnos, which were favoured by volcanic ash containing minerals, the natural fertiliser came on the one hand from livestock farming, and on the other hand it was also possible to use urban waste, which farmers sometimes brought to the countryside from the towns. On the importance of fertilizer for crop yields, see Ruschenbusch (1998). On refuse and waste as fertilizers in the Roman world Thüry (2001) 7–8. 219  The choinix was taken as a daily ration, for example in Diog. Laert. 8,18. cf. also Hdt. 7,187,2. so also Rosivach (2000) 32–33. – However, there seem to have been crucial differences – not only because caloric needs vary according to age, sex, and intensity of activity, but because grain has a different nutritional content depending on growth conditions. For example, Theophrastus (h. plant. 8,4,5) notes that Boeotic wheat would have greater nutritional value than Attic wheat: athletes would barely consume one and a half choinikes in Boeotia, while they could easily consume two and a half choinikes in Athens. 217

62

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

able to feed at least 47,800 persons per year itself and, in conjunction with the dependent areas, (theoretically) about 108,900 persons.220 Such estimate is only meaningful in relation to the population.221 Compared to other poleis and their territories, Athens or Attica had the highest population density with about 45–80 inhabitants per square kilometer.222 The only relatively reliable information about the population of Attica is available for the period between 312 and 309. At this time there are said to have been 21,000 Athenians, 10,000 metics, and 400,000 oiketai.223 However, under Demetrius of Phalerum, only Athenians with a minimum census of 1000 drachmas possessed full citizenship; at the same time, the number of oiketai  – if interpreted as slaves  – seems extremely high.224 Accordingly, 30,000 citizens, i.e. 100,000 Athenians including wives and children, 10,000 metics, and 65,000 slaves, i.e. a total of about 175,000 people, are generally assumed for the fourth century. The numbers for the other periods can be estimated chiefly from the data of those fit for military service.225 This results approximately in the demographic developments shown in Fig. 2.1: Although the demographic trends are based only on estimates, they show how immediate needs were subject to fluctuations and that there was a gap between  Other estimates even assume supply rates that are in some cases considerably higher. Sallares (1991) 79–80, for example, estimates that Attica could produce enough grain for 55,000–97,000 people, while Garnsey (1988) 101–106 and (1998a) even assume 120,000–150,000 people could be supplied. In contrast, Moreno (2007a) 32 reckons 52,000–106,000 inhabitants whose livelihoods were secure. 221  On Athenian demography, see Isager/Hansen (1975) 11–19. Hansen (1985c), (1988) and (2006a, b). Moreno (2007a) 28–31. Hansen (2008). Akrigg (2011). 222  Only Aegina and Corinth seem to have been populated similarly densely. See the general map in Scheidel (2007) 46. See generally on the population of Attica Hansen (1988), (2006a, b), (2008). Sallares (1991) 42–293. Stangl (2008) 213–239. 223  Ctesicles FGrHist 245 F 1 (= Athen. deipn. 6,272c). 224  Isager/Hansen (1975) 15. Hansen (1985c) 30–31. – Perhaps the term oiketai in this case does not mean slaves but household members (women, children and slaves). But even with such an interpretation the number of 400,000 is still in need of explanation: does it include only the household members of the citizens? How are the Athenians without full citizenship rights categorized? 225  It can be assumed that the polis had about 60,000 male citizens before the Peloponnesian War, according to Hansen (1988) 26–27, which were decimated by the prolonged warlike conflicts, but again supplemented after the war by returning cleruchs to about 25,000. Since the civilian population may have suffered only slightly less from the war than the proportion of hoplites, the estimated population decrease during the Peloponnesian War is about a half to even two-thirds. Hansen (1988) 14–18. Pritchard (2005) 20–21. Akrigg (2007) 29–33 and (2011) 37–59. – Thereafter, the number of citizens in the fourth century rose again to about 30,000 by the 360s. This corresponds to the figures given by Plato (symp. 175e) and Aristophanes (Eccl. 1123). – Of these 30,000, however, it is estimated that 5000 sought their fortunes as cleruchs in distant lands between 385 and 340, when Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros were restored to Athenian possession by the King’s Peace in 386 (Xen. hell. 5,1,31. IG II2 30). Cleruchs were also sent to Samos in 352 (Aeschin. 1,53) and to the Chersonesus about 344 (Demosth. or. 8,6. [Demosth.] or. 12,16. Diod. 16,34,4). – After this, the citizen community again dwindled; the Lamian War in particular brought a demographic drop. The number of citizens was further reduced by the oligarchic constitutional amendments, restricting active citizenship first under Phocion to those with a minimum census of 2000 drachmas, and later under Demetrius of Phalerum of 1000 drachmas. 220

63

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

60 40 20 0

at 431

at 400

at 360

at 310

Fig. 2.1  Demographic development of the citizenry. (See also Note 226)

production (sufficient for about 47,800 or 108,900 men) and consumption (of about 175,000 men, women, and children)  – even if the entire agricultural yield of the cleruchies had reached Athens.226 What is certain, therefore, is that hunger and malnutrition were an omnipresent scenario, especially for small and micro farmers who had to live on less than six hectares of land and made up about seventy percent of the farmers.227 Crop failures threatened their very existence – especially if, to survive, they had to consume the

 Another factor of fundamental importance for the assessment is the agricultural production in the same period. Assuming that neither family structures with their concentration on the nuclear family, inheritance strategies nor technological standards changed significantly, the assessment of agricultural production in the fourth century depends on the extent to which the Decelean War had affected the Attic countryside. In the long run, the arable land was far less damaged than it appeared to be immediately after the defeat in 404. Even though Attic peasants continued to struggle with the consequences of the war for over a decade, as Spielvogel (2001) 183–184 notes, agriculture recovered remarkably quickly; by the fourth century Attica’s rural areas were prospering. A crucial factor was that the agricultural infrastructure was only damaged in the short term. Dryland agriculture was far less vulnerable than agriculture based on artificial irrigation; Attic farmers did not lay out irrigation systems on a large scale, which accordingly were not wantonly destroyed. The remaining damage had less far-reaching consequences: The crops – vine, figs, and olives – were burned down, the herds decimated, the homesteads destroyed, and parts of the rural population migrated to the city. Nevertheless, it can hardly be assumed that the Spartans razed the entire agricultural yield to the ground  – after all, they were themselves well advised to feed themselves locally and avoid costly imports. It cannot be ruled out, therefore, that some farmers tilled their fields during the siege. But even if large parts of the harvest were lost, yields could be expected the very next year. Even today, fire farming is practiced in many parts of the world; the ashes serve as a natural fertilizer, as some mineral plant substances are soluble more quickly this way. The fertility of the soil was therefore not necessarily ruined in the long term, but perhaps even increased in the short term. However, olive plants actually require several years before they produce adequate harvests again; but they are very hardy and difficult to destroy. The loss of livestock during the Decelean War was also limited. Before the war, some of the cattle of Attic peasants found shelter on Euboea from where they could return after 404. Cleruchs also brought their herds back to Attica after the dissolution of their settlements, where vacated land was offered for sale. In addition, the large population losses initially brought an easing in the food supply; fewer people had to be fed and the land divided among fewer sons. See generally French (1991). Hanson (1998) 131–173. For literary sources on wartime losses, see Huber (1939) 20–35. On the division of inheritance equally to sons and the consequences, see Isager/Skydsgaard (1992) 126–128. Burford (1993) 37–88. 227  Ruschenbusch (1998) 79. Cf. Burford (1993) 68, who assumes that most peasants had to live on 60 plethra (about 5.8 hectares) or less. On the size of landholdings, see also R. Osborne (1992) 21–27. Bresson (2016) 142–152. 226

64

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

grain intended for the next sowing.228 Nevertheless, the ancient sources attest to few genuine famine crises in the Classical period229 – either because they did not occur, as Garnsey claims,230 or because they were a commonplace phenomenon affecting mainly segments of the population not covered by the sources, such as the poorest of the poor or the smallholder population.231 More convincing is the assumption that while Attica could not sufficiently supply the population itself with grain, the polis managed to tap external sources to a sufficient degree. Demosthenes, for example, states for the year 355/4 that Athens imported 800,000 medimnoi of wheat.232 With the Eleusinian figures, this means that about

 Based on modern measurements, the probability that the harvest failed completely or to a lesser extent due to drought, moisture, frost, snow, heavy rain, hail, fungal infestation and pests was 28% for wheat, 5.5% for barley and as much as 71% for pulses. In purely statistical terms, this means that wheat failed to yield in about every fourth year, barley in every twentieth, and legumes even withered in three out of four years, according to Garnsey (1988) 10. Even if ancient cereals and pulses  – especially chickpeas  – were more resistant than modern varieties, the figures give an approximate impression of the extent to which Attic subsistence farming was continuously threatened.  Ruschenbusch draws on those in Greece before the introduction of artificial fertilizers to illuminate ancient conditions, estimating that about forty percent of harvests were insufficient to feed producers, according to Ruschenbusch (1998) 81. Statistics, however, give only averages; harvests could also fail completely or badly over several years, and agriculture based on dryland farming is particularly vulnerable to weather fluctuation, according to Rosivach (2000) 34. 229  Garnsey (1988) 37. Pazdera (2006) 37.. 230  Garnsey (1988) 38 argues for the first explanation. 231  It is therefore difficult to estimate how often a sitodeia developed into a veritable hunger crisis; in general, hunger manifested itself in graduated forms, not all of which led to death, disease, or physical infirmity. Food shortage and scarcity are thus relative phenomena that had a different impact in the countryside than in the city, and that were more easily coped with by persons with greater economic resources in times of secure trade connections than by day laborers or small farmers directly affected by crop failures. Cf. for example Theophr. char. 23,5. even if The Boaster is caricatured here, it can still be seen that an urban milieu is drawn and that it was common for the wealthier to lend a hand to the less wealthy citizens in times of grain shortage. 232  Demosthenes (or. 20,31–32) states that Leukon had 400.000 medimnoi shipped, while from other ports the same amount of grain reached Athens. The figure seemed quite high and evoked criticism. Garnsey (1998a) 183–195, for example, calculated that 400,000 medimnoi alone could have fed 90,000 people for a year. Whitby (1998), on the other hand, objected that although the figure given by Demosthenes was exaggerated, it corresponded to the quantity in an exceptional year. According to Tsetskhladze (2008), Crimea could not have produced such quantities at that time. Moreno (2007a) 207–208 and (2007b) 69–70, however, gave convincing reasons for believing the accuracy of Demosthenes’ figure and that Athens had thus imported about 400,000 medimnoi from Crimea annually: First, Demosthenes (or. 20,32) relied on public documents; second, Strabon (7,4,6) reported that Leukon had shipped 2,100,000 medimnoi from Theodosia to Athens. Since the port city was founded at the end of 356, and Leukon died in 349/8, the quantity exported by Leukon would have to be spread over about eight years. This gives an average annual export of about 260,000 medimnoi. Third, the ships raided by Philip II in 340 suggest such import volumes: Philip II is said to have captured 230 (so Philochoros FGrHist 328 F 162.) and 180 (so Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 292.) ships respectively. If one calculates with an average cargo capacity of 3000 medimnoi, as Casson (1973) 183–184 does, the ships would have loaded 540,000 medimnoi. Fourth, the comparison with Mytilene is revealing: Mytilene imported more than 100,000 medimnoi from the Bosporan kingdom at about the same time (Tod [1968] II 163). 228

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

65

half of the required staple food came from resources foreign to the polis. If one calculates only with Attica’s yields (i.e., without the cleruchies), almost eighty percent of the grain requirement was covered by external resources.233 Much more important than such calculations, however, is the observation that the Athenians felt bound to imports and established a culture of dependence. But what exactly does “dependence” mean? Seasonal food shortages were an annual phenomenon before the harvest.234 But only drought or capture of grain ships led to – then, however, massive – difficulties, as they are attested in 387, around 360, in the 330s and 320s.235 A grain shortage, however, did not automatically mean a general hunger crisis, but first of all, a supply shortage, which led to an increase in the price of grain – and only then to a lack of food for those who could not pay the corresponding prices.236 For this reason, intermediate or small traders (sitopolai) were forbidden to purchase more than a certain amount of grain.237 This was to prevent them from hoarding the grain and then

 See Table 2.2 above.  This was vividly put into words by Alcman (F 20 Davies) in the seventh century: ὥρας δ’ ἔσηκε τρεῖς, θέρος | καὶ χεῖμα κὠπώραν τρίταν | καὶ τέτρατον τὸ ϝῆρ, ὅκα | σάλλει μέν, ἐσθίην δ’ ἄδαν | οὐκ ἔστι. – “Of seasons, however, he gave three: summer, winter, and as the third, abundance, and as the fourth, spring, when there is blossom but not enough to eat.” A monthly grain account from Delos (IG XI.2 287) specifies the period of increase in price to the months of Lenaion (January/ February) to Thargelion (May/June), before agricultural yields flowed into the market from Panemos (June/July) onwards. Cf. also SEG 43,205 (Koroneia; third century): purchase of grain for stockpiling before the Panboiotion (September/October), sale in the Homoloios (May/June). See on the complex Pazdera (2006) 18–21. 235  Year 387: Antalcidas interrupts the grain route from the Black Sea (Xen. hell. 5,1,28). – 360s: (1) 362 grain shortage in Byzantium, Chalcedon, and Cyzicus ([Demosth.] or. 50,6–7) and drought with crop failure in Attica a year later ([Demosth.] or. 50,61). (2) Demosthenes (or. 20,33) speaks of Leukon having sent grain to Athens in 357 “when there was a universal shortage” On dating Cawkwell (1981) 55.  – 330s and 320s: SEG 9.2. Garnsey (1988) 154–162. Sallares (1991) 390–395. Clinton (2005–2008) II 231 note 177. Pazdera (2006) 248–269. – Captivity was an omnipresent problem due to constant wars. Cf. for instance [Demosth.] or. 53 (abduction and sale into slavery of an Athenian citizen). Diod. 15,34,3 (Spartans threatening a grain fleet sailing to Athens in 376). Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 162 with Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 292 (Philip II raids 230 merchant ships). – On the supply crises of the years 338–281 see in detail Pazdera (2006) 241–321. 236  The profit margins for importers were exceptional in such times. Bresson (2000b) 149 calculates that a shipload of 3000 medimnoi normally yielded 4800 drachmas, but in times of grain shortages it yielded around 37,000 drachmas. 237  Lysias (or. 22,6) speaks of fifty “units” (φορμοί), the meaning of which, however, is not clear. Similar to Boeckh (1886) I 104 note c, Figueira (1986b) 155–156 also assumes that the grain measure here called φορμός was roughly equivalent to a medimnos. – On the distinction between longdistance merchants and retailers, who mostly did business on a smaller scale, see Plat. soph. 223d and Isager/Hansen (1975) 64–66. Vélissaropoulos (1977) 64–79. On the regulatory pressure that weighed on local small producers and small merchants in contrast to long-distance merchants and large landowners Eich (2006) 222–224. 233 234

66

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

selling it at a high price.238 As protection against usury, the profit margin was limited; for each drachma invested, they were allowed to add only one obolos.239 Thus, what concerned the Athenians above all was the stable – and that means: low – price of grain for the city’s inhabitants.240 If more than five drachmas had to be paid for a medimnos of wheat, this was perceived as a sitodeia, a grain shortage or supply crisis, but not as a famine.241 Even though all the larger poleis felt compelled to import grain,242 a culture of dependence prevailed in Athens that cannot be detected to such an extent anywhere else in the Greek world in Classical times. This means, however, that the grain imports were only partly born out of necessity; otherwise more resistant barley would have been grown, or the population would have regulated itself downwards, cynical as this may sound. Securing grain supplies was a political act, born out of the notion that the community had to align itself with consumer interests and care about what it saw as reasonable prices for staple foods – and not just for citizens like the imperial frumentationes in Rome. The grain trade was one of the few economic sectors that the polis regulated in a targeted manner.243 The political importance of the grain supply is manifest in the fact that every prytany had to put this topic on the agenda of the general meeting.244 In the same way, the ephebic oath linked the defense of the fatherland to the crops of Attica.245 The relevance is also evident in the literary reflections: Aristotle also devotes his Rhetoric to the import and export of food; rhetors should know when to import grain to enter into trade agreements with other commonwealths.246 Likewise, the Xenophontic Socrates made it clear to the young Glaucon that one of the  For example, Garnsey (1988) 141. Pazdera (2006) 191. Migeotte (2009) 123. The intention of the passage is clear, but the exact interpretation is debatable. Were the merchants only allowed to acquire fifty phormoi once a day, as Gauthier (1981) 23 or Migeotte (2009) 123 believe? It seems more plausible to assume that it was forbidden to possess in total more than the defined quantity by purchase (in stock). So also Engels (2000a) 99 note 15. Rosivach (2000) 46–47. – In certain cases, however, the law could also have a counterproductive effect. It could, at least theoretically, be the case that more grain was offered for sale than was allowed to be purchased, so that lower stocks were accumulated than would have been possible. Kohns (1964) 153–155. 239  Lys. or. 22.8. Figueira (1986b) 162–163. Particularly bad cases of cartelization could be punished by death (Lys. or. 22.5). 240  On grain prices in the fifth and fourth centuries, see Stroud (1998) 74. 241  Pazdera (2006) 36 and 41. – Similarly, Heraclides criticus (Frg. 1,2) mentions shortage but not dearth in his description of Athens: “The produce of the earth is all priceless and in taste of the first quality, but a bit too little. […] By the spectacles and entertainments the city does not make the common people perceive hunger, because it simply makes them forget the taking of food […].” 242  Ober (2010) 254. 243  The polis also intervened in economic processes in other areas, such as the distribution of military goods. Timarchus, for example, had advocated a ban on the export of weapons and naval equipment (Aeschin. 1,80. Demosth. or. 19,286). – In addition, of course, a variety of economic effects of state measures can be identified, which Eich (2016) has compiled. 244  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43.4. 245  Tod (1968) II Nr. 204 l. 20: πυροί, κριθαί, ἄμπελοι, ἐλάαι, συκαῖ. 246  Aristot. rhet. 1359 b 18–23. 1360 a 12–17. 238

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

67

r­ esponsibilities of a politically active citizen was to know how long-grain supplies would last and how much grain the polis needed from abroad.247 Similarly, Demosthenes considered it the duty of every politician to care for the grain ships in Piraeus.248 In order to protect the citizens from high grain prices, various measures were taken, some of them very costly. It is significant that Athens only built up a significant administrative apparatus in this one area, the supervision of the port and market. And here the main focus was on the supply of grain. For this the sitophylakes were primarily responsible; their faultless activity was guaranteed by the threat of severe punishment, up to and including execution.249 While elsewhere the agoranomoi also took over these functions, Athens afforded special officials for this area.250 In order to keep the price stable, from the middle of the fourth century the assembly also elected a σιτωνής, a commissioner for the grain supply, to buy grain with public money.251

 Xen. mem. 3,6,13.  Demosth. or. 18,301. 249  Lys. or. 22,16. – The “grain-keepers” are attested for the first time in the Lysian speech Against the Corn-Dealers (or. 22). They were drawn from the ten phylai, at first five for Athens and five for the Piraeus ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 51,3). Later a total of 35 sitophylakes held office, twenty for the city and fifteen for the Piraeus ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 51,3. Phot. s. v. σιτοφύλακες Bekker. Harpokr. s. v. σιτοφύλακες). From 307 the college was apparently reduced to twelve persons. Perhaps the inference is that the number of sitophylakes given by Pseudo-Aristotle was short-term, when a grain crisis (or crises) in the 330s or 320s made special controls necessary. 320s: Garnsey (1988) 141. Garland (2001) 78. Pazdera (2006) 189 with note 86. – 330s: Gauthier (1981) 25. – Gradual increase due to several crises: Stanley (1976) 240. – The sitophylakes kept incoming lists of the grain that landed at Piraeus (Demosth. or. 20.32). But they mainly supervised the prices of wheat and barley respectively, and – related to this – the quality of the grain (in relation to the price) and the weights ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 51,3). In case of disagreement in the grain trade, charges could be brought before them (SEG 26.72 = Hesperia 43 (1974) 157–188 = HGIÜ 221 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 25). On sitophylakes, see generally Gauthier (1981). Figueira (1986b). Pazdera (2006) 186–190. 250  Accordingly, the Athenian Coinage Law of 375/4 also regulates the tasks of the sitophylakes and the other magistrates charged with market supervision. Charges were to be brought before three different colleges: in the case of offences in the grain trade before the sitophylakes, in the case of all other offences the competence did not depend on the type of transaction, but on the location. If someone acted contrary to the Coinage Law in the agora or in the city area, the syllogeis demou were responsible, in the emporion or Piraeus, on the other hand, the epimeletai emporiou (SEG 26.72 = Hesperia 43 (1974) 157–188 = HGIÜ 221 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 25). On this law, see Figueira (1998) 536–547. 251  The official had to find a potential seller, i.e. look for favourable prices, which is why he sometimes travelled for a long time. Probably the public grain buyer cooperated with traders, who, after all, had a good information network. Perhaps Callisthenes, who administered the proceeds from the grain donated by Leukon I (Demosth. or. 20,33) around the middle of the fourth century, was the first sitones, even if the official title and the exact competences had not yet been established at that time. Stroud (1998) 116. Pazdera (2006) 180. See, on the other hand, Fantasia (1987) 106 and 108. The importance of the office is also shown by the fact that Demosthenes acted as σιτωνής after the Battle of Chaeronea (Demosth. or. 18,248. [Plut.] X orat. Demosthenes = mor. 851 b). On this, see W. Will (2013) 123. 247 248

68

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

The polis community also tried to create favourable conditions for the import of grain. Due to the natural conditions and the high costs, risky sea transport was preferred to that over land. Athens had been importing grain from the Black Sea region since the early fifth century at the latest.252 This region was able to export not simply grain, but above all the fine but particularly demanding bread wheat – a type of grain which, unlike barley and durum wheat, was particularly suitable for baking and which, at that time, was cultivated to such an extent in hardly any other region.253 If Demosthenes’ figures are to be believed, 400,000 medimnoi of grain from the Bosporan Kingdom landed at Piraeus, with about the same amount coming from other regions, such as Sicily, Egypt, Libya, Cyprus, Syria, Phoinicia, and the Po Valley.254 Assuming an average cargo capacity of 3000 medimnoi,255 about 270 shiploads per year had to reach the Piraeus unharmed. To promote maritime trade in general or grain imports in particular, Athens employed three strategies: first, binding relevant individuals to the polis through honors and privileges; second, legal arrangements to direct imports to Athens; and third, various foreign policy measures to protect trade routes.256 Among the honorific benefits bestowed by the Athenian civic community to encourage grain imports were, in particular, the ἀτέλεια, the exemption from financial obligations (for example, from choregia or customs duties) in Athens.257 The motives for conferring the ateleia and the positive effects of this privilege can be illustrated particularly vividly

 Hdt. 7,147,2–3.  See on bread wheat Sallares (1991) 323–332. – Barley, unlike wheat, was therefore considered a daily food. Thus – according to a law attributed to Solon – those who dined in the prytaneion at public expense normally received maza and bread only on holidays (Athens. 137e). 254  Demosthenes (or. 20,31–32) states that Leukon had 400.000 medimnoi shipped, while from other ports the same amount of grain reached Athens. For a critique of the Demosthenic figures, see supra note 233. On the Athenian grain trade with the Black Sea region, see Isager/Hansen (1975) 21–23. Tsetskhladze (1998). Braund (2007). Moreno (2007a) 206–208 and passim, and (2007b). Tsetskhladze (2008). – Egypt: IG II2 283. Egypt and Sicily: Demosth. or. 56,3–10. Sicily: IG II2 408. Demosth. or. 32,4 and 18. [Demosth. or. 33,13. 56,9. lib. arg. Demosthenes 32. Xen. oik. 20,27. Diod. 19,103,4. Libya: SEG 9,2 = HGIÜ 270. Cyprus: And. 2,20–21. IG II2 407. Syria and Phoenicia: IG II2 342. Plut. Demetrius 10. Diod. 20,46,4. Po Valley: IG II2 1629. Cf. also Theophr. h. plant. 8,4,3. 255  Casson (1973) 183–184. 256  See on the Athenian grain trade in Classical times in general Isager/Hansen (1975) 19–29. Garnsey (1988) 87–164. Keen (1993). Garnsey (1998a). Moreno (2007a). Tsetskhladze (2008). On public intervention in food imports specifically Isager/Hansen (1975) 27–29. Engen (2010). For the early Hellenistic period G. J. Oliver (2007). 257  See on ateleia in general Oehler (1896). MacDowell (2004). Rubinstein (2009). Migeotte (2014a) 458–486. 252 253

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

69

in the relations with Leukon I, ruler of the Bosporan kingdom, since we have access to both literary and epigraphic evidence.258 Leukon I ruled over one of the most fertile areas of Europe.259 For this reason, the Athenians had been courting the Bosporan basileis260 for generations to win them over as reliable trading partners.261 Like his father Satyrus I, Leukon I granted Athenian merchants the right to load their ships first262 and granted merchants dispensation from the approximately three percent export duty (1/30) on grain for  Demosth. or. 20 (Against Leptines). Leptines had initiated a law in 356 which forbade the exemption of the liturgy both retroactively and for the future. Against this law a certain Bathippus first brought a charge of unlawfulness, but he died a little later. Demosthenes then instituted proceedings again in 355. In order to prove the inadequacy of Leptines’ law, Demosthenes argues, among other things, that no financial benefits could be expected from the abolition of the exemption from the liturgy. He justifies this in several ways: The number of persons covered by the ateleia was small. The most solvent citizens and metics are not affected by the ateleia, since the exemption from the liturgy includes the choregy but not the trierarchy and the eisphora payment. If these persons paid the trierarchy and war dues, however, they would not be eligible to receive a choregy in any case, since no one would have to pay two liturgies at the same time. Since, moreover, the public revenues could not be equated with the liturgies as personal services, the withdrawal of the ateleia would also not have the effect of making additional surpluses available. Moreover, financial losses could be expected in the future, since fewer men would render services to the polis. Moreover, persons deprived of the ateleia would also deprive Athenians of benefits and other financially relevant support. Thus, the abolition of this privilege would not provide additional funds, but rather would have the opposite effect. The exemption from customs duties and liturgy services, Demosthenes argued, would not cause any costs and would only mean lost revenue at first sight. To take back these privileges would not only be contrary to the generally accepted code of conduct, but would also lead to Athens having to do without a large part of her vital grain supplies. See generally on the speech Against Leptines (Demosth. or. 20) the commentary by Kremmydas (2012) and by Canevaro (2016). – Two tributes from Athens to different generations of Bosporan rulers have survived (IG II2 212 = HGIÜ 249 and IG II2 653 = HGIÜ 307). 259  Here the widespread humus-rich black soil offered optimal cultivation possibilities. Already in antiquity (Strab. 7,4,4 and 6) the Crimea had the reputation of having particularly fertile soils and being ideally suited for the cultivation of cereals. 260  On the ruler titulature (archon resp. basileus) cf. Demosth. or. 20,29. IOSPE II 8 = SIG3 213 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 65. – In other places the Athenian orators refer to them as tyrannoi, for example in Aeschin. 3,171 and Din. 1,43. 261  It is known from literary as well as epigraphic evidence that Satyrus I received honors together with his sons already in the years between 395 and 389/8 (Isocr. or. 17,57. Demosth. or. 20,33. IG II2 212 = HGIÜ 249). – At the latest since Leukon I (389/8–349/8), but probably already since Satyrus I (433/2–389/8), there were relations regulated by treaty (Demosth. or. 20,31 and 36–37). Bengtson (1975) II 306. – Pairisades I was able to continue this tradition as ruler of the Bosporan Empire; likewise his son Eumelus was honored by Athens in 310/9 and then also his grandson Spartokos III in 284. Pairisades I and his sons even received statues ([Demosth.] or. 34,36. Din. 1,43. IG II2 653 = SIG3 370 = HGIÜ 307). On this, see Burstein (1978b). Pazdera (2006) 117–121. – On Athenian-Bosporan relations in the period 415–307, see the appendices in Engen (2010) 225–325, especially the tables on pages 225–229 and 231–232 respectively. On the Spartocid dynasty, see Werner (1955). Gajdukevič (1971) 65–96. Hind (1994) 476–511. Tsetskhladze (1997) 39–81. 262  Demosth. or. 20.31. The speaker of the 17th Isocratic oration states (17.57) that under Satyrus the Athenians could frequently buy grain in spite of scarcity (σπάνις σίτου), while other merchants, on the contrary, went empty-handed. 258

70

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

­voyages to Athens.263 In addition, Leukon I had sent grain in 357/6, providing Athens with sales revenues of fifteen talents. In return for his commitment, he and his descendants were granted citizenship and ateleia.264 Particularly revealing for the bilateral trade relations, however, is the honor awarded to the sons of Leukon.265 The stele, decorated with a relief, was found in Piraeus, where it certainly had been erected for publicity.266 The Athenians had honored Spartokos II, Pairisades I, and Apollonius on the occasion of the confirmation of the trade treaty267 concluded with Leukon I or with his father for two reasons: First, Spartokos II and Pairisades I, as successors of Leukon, had assured “to take care of the export of grain just as their father had taken care of it, and willingly to help out whatever the people needed,”268 and “since they conferred on the Athenians the special rights (δωρειαί) which had already been given by Satyrus and Leukon.”269 Accordingly, the two eldest sons of Leukon had assured to continue the line of their father. This meant quite specifically the customs-free export of grain to Athens – this is certainly how the term δωρειαί is to be interpreted –270 and the vague promise to grant the Athenians prerogatives in the purchase of grain and possibly gifts of grain in times of need. Second, the Athenians had apparently received grain from the Bosporan rulers, the (unspecified) equivalent of which the envoys now demanded.271 This is the earliest direct indication that the Athenians collectively borrowed from another ruler and

 Although Demosthenes does not state this, it can be inferred from IG II2 212 l. 20–22 and l. 46–47 respectively. So the ateleia had to be renewed after each change of ruler. On this inscription see the following and the literature given in the next but one note. 264  Demosth. or. 20,29–30. 265  IG II2 212 = Tod (1968) II 167 = SIG3 206 = HGIÜ 249. See also Tuplin (1982) on this inscription. Heinen (1996) 361–363. Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 64. Engen (2010) 290–291. 266  Since the stele was to be erected near that of Satyrus and Leukon, and Demosthenes (or. 20,36) speaks of one of the three stelai for Leukon being located in the Piraeus, it is obvious to assume the place of erection not far from the place of discovery. Usually such tributes found their place on the Acropolis (cf. for example Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 19). In this case, however, since the people’s decision was intended to promote grain imports, the harbor represented a site more broadly effective and targeted. – On the relief, see M. Meyer (1989) 290 cat. A 88 plate 28.1. 267  Gajdukevič (1971) 77 and 82. Pazdera (2006) 115. 268  IG II2 212 l. 14–17. 269  IG II2 212 l. 20–22. 270  Cf. Demosth. or. 20.33, who also refers to the privileges granted by Leukon to the Athenians as δωρειαί. See also Ziebarth (1929) 65. Pazdera (2006) 113. Engen (2010) 290. 271  IG II2 212 l. 53–59: […] περὶ δὲ τῶν χρημάτων τῶν [ὀφ]|[ει]λ[ο]μένων τοῖς παισὶ τοῖς Λεύκωνος ὅπ[ως] | [ἂ]ν ἀπολάβωσιν, χρηματίσαι τοὺς προέδ[ρος] | [οἳ] ἂν λάχωσι προεδρεύειν ἐν τῶι δήμωι [τῆι] | [ὀγ]δόηι ἐπὶ δέκα πρῶτον μετὰ τὰ ἱερά, ὅπ[ως ἂ]|[ν] ἀπολα[β]όντες τὰ χρήματα μὴ ἐγκαλῶσ[ι τῶι] | [δ]ήμωι τῶν Ἀθηναίων-[…]. – “[…] concerning the money owed to the sons of Leukon, in order that they may recover it, let those who are drawn by lot to hold the prohedria in the assembly on the 18th be the first after the sacrifices [on the agenda], so that they may get back the money and not lay the debt against the Athenian people. […]” – From which fund the money was to be paid back unfortunately is not mentioned; probably it was to be discussed in the ekklesia. 263

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

71

bought grain collectively. The intention is immediately obvious: Grain could be purchased cheaply in the ports of the Bosporan Kingdom and sold at a higher price in Athens. This way, costs were covered and the market was protected from private speculation. This practice points to the institution of sitonia (σιτωνία), which became increasingly institutionalized from 338.272 Hence, the commitment of the sons of Leukon and the Bosporan grain were not to be had entirely free of charges. First, the Athenians received the grain only on credit and not as a gift. Second, the Athenians bestowed various honors, to be repeated regularly but ultimately financially negligible,273 to make the relationship attractive for both sides. The ateleia was prestigious but economically insignificant. And only at first glance was the award of three golden crowns each worth a thousand drachmas a material gain. These crowns were to be presented to the public at the Great Panathenaea – yet, they remained in the temple of Athena Polias. Thirdly – and this was the most costly proposal, only touched on briefly at the end and perhaps added later to the original probouleuma –274 Athens was to provide hyperesiai,

 The first purchase of grain called sitonia dates from after the Battle of Chaeronea, when Demosthenes was elected σιτώνης (Demosth. or. 18,248. [Plut.] X orat. Demosthenes = mor. 851 b). – In the third century it became customary to establish grain treasuries in order to provide the population with reduced-price or even free access to grain. See, for example, IG XII5 1010 (Ios). SEG 36,788 (Samothrace). SEG 43,205 (Koroneia). SIG3 976 (Samos). See Fantasia (1989). Migeotte (1990) and (1991). Engels (2000a) 102–124. 273  For Spartokos II and Pairisades I this honor was to be renewed every four years. IG II2 212 l. 24–29: […] καὶ στεφ[ανοῦν] χρυσῶι στεφάνωι Παναθη|ναίοις το[ῖς μεγ]άλοις ἀπὸ χιλίων δραχμῶν | ἑκάτερ[ο]ν- [ποιε]ῖσθαι δὲ τοὺς στεφάνους το|ὺς ἀθλοθέ[τας] τῶι προτέρωι ἔτει Παναθαηνα|ίων τῶν μεγ[άλ]ων κατὰ τὸ ψήφισμα τοῦ δήμου | τὸ πρότερον ἐψηφισμένον Λεύκωνι […]. – “[…] and they [Spartokos and Pairisades] shall be honored with a golden crown worth 1000 drachmas each on the Great Panathenaea. The athlothetai shall have the crowns made in the year preceding the Great Panathenaea according to the decree formerly passed for Leukon […].” The use of the present (rather than the aorist) can be interpreted as to mean that both Leukon and later his two eldest sons were regularly crowned every four years, according to Rhodes/ Osborne (2007) 322–323 on the passage. 274  Similarly, Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 325. 272

72

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

that is, a professional ship’s crew.275 The personnel and temporal scope is unfortunately not handed down.276 Both sides thus derived advantages from the relationship: The rulers of the Bosporan Kingdom had a vital interest in tying the Athenian grain trade to themselves. Even if they granted exemption from customs duties, the trade relationship promised high profits, since Athens also offered a stable sales market. This directly benefited the royal house, as it could monetize the natural resources collected as tax or tribute in the dominion. Such an exchange underlies the granting of credit: the sons of Leukon gave grain and in return received the easily hoarded, non-perishable, and stable silver, which could be used to pay craftsmen as well as to recruit mercenaries. The latter in particular seems to have been a motive for the Bosporan rulers, for the Athenians were to provide them with a professional ship’s crew (hyperesia) in return for cheap grain. This mutual dependence resulted in a reciprocal relationship of obligation, which was consolidated by privileges and credit. Accordingly, the grain loan granted by the basileis already points ahead to the Hellenistic period.

 IG II2 212 l. 59–65. On the terminus hyperesia, see Gomme (1945–1956) IV 294. Jordan (1969). Ruschenbusch (1979c). Morrison (1984). 276  In this context perhaps also belongs an honorary decree for Tenedos from 339 (IG II2 233 = Syll.3 256 = Tod (1968) II 175). As in the honorary decree for the sons of Leukon seven years earlier (IG II2 212 = HGIÜ 249), it speaks of envoys of the Tenedians reclaiming a sum of money that the Athenians owed them. In addition, Tenedos was thanked for the virtue (ἀρετή) and support (βοηθεῖν) of Athens as well as the allies. For the honoring inscription to Leukon’s sons the reason is relatively easy to infer: The Bosporan Kingdom was an important supplier of grain; the sum owed might therefore represent a loan of grain. But what did the tiny island of Tenedos have to offer? The island is about ten kilometers long and five kilometers wide, covering an area of about 43 square kilometers. Tenedos was not above average in means of agricultural production; perhaps Tenedos could export wine and oil. But since both products were also abundant in Attica, this certainly does not justify such an honorary decree. Tenedos’ capital was much more its location: the current and wind conditions forced ships on their way from or to the Black Sea to call at the island. Moreover, Aristotle (1291 b 24–25) draws on Tenedos as an example of ferry operations of goods and people. The two ports of the main town thus were an important hub for any activity in the North Aegean. Athens had a vital economic and military interest in reliable cooperation with Tenedos. In the 360s Athens was able to establish a naval base here ([Demosth.] or. 50,53–54), which was apparently reinforced around 350. An envoy from Tenedos, chosen by the Athenians, had taken part in the second embassy (346) to Philip II as an representative of the allies (Aeschin. 2,20). The Tenedians were evidently keen to position themselves on the side of Athens in the conflict between Athens and Philip II. For this reason the aid mentioned in the inscription of 339 was explained as financial support for the preparations for war. This gives the purpose, but two crucial questions remain: if the Tenedians were allies of Athens, why did Athens owe them money? And what was the loan used for? One explanation might be that Tenedos had built triremes or harbour facilities for the Athenian fleet, or had provided provisions for fleet members, and was now claiming back the outlay; the island was conveniently located both for the import of timber from Thrace and for the grain trade with the Black Sea. This would have a parallel in the loan made by the sons of Leukos. 275

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

73

The Bosporan kings, however, presented a rather special case.277 Much more frequently, the polis sought to encourage the private initiatives of professional merchants, whose support in case of doubt was less costly (than, for example, the hyperesia for the sons of Leukon). Here, too, the polis resorted to honorific distinctions, such as the προξενία, ritualized hospitality on a supra-individual level.278 Although not all proxeny decrees were exclusively economically motivated, economic considerations, especially the grain trade, always did play a role.279 In return, the proxenos received not only honor and prestige, but often also several tangible privileges: the right to acquire landholdings in Attica, access to the boule and the ekklesia, ateleia, and sometimes Athenian citizenship.280 In addition to granting privileges to promote maritime trade in general and grain imports in particular, Athens used legislative and judicial optimizations as a second strategy to ensure that grain traders did not only go where prices were highest.281 Thus it had always been forbidden to export grain grown in Attica.282 In the fourth century, two-thirds of the grain landed in Piraeus also had to be brought to the city

 Of the total of 28 documents recording honors and privileges granted in the period between 404 and 307 to persons with connections to Athenian trade, five do not allow any conclusions about sociopolitical status. The remaining 23 documents mention eight rulers and fifteen merchants. Moreover, of the eight honorific decrees to rulers, five alone were to the Spartocid royal house, while the other three potentates appear only once. Spartocids: Satyrus I with sons: IG II2 212. Isocr. or. 15.57. Demosth. or. 20.33. Leukon I with sons: IG II2 212. Demosth. or. 20,29–41. Sons of Leukon (Spartakos II, Pairisades I and Apollonios): IG II2 212. Pairisades I with sons: IG II2 653. [Demosth.] or. 34,36. Din. 1,43. Eumelus: IG II2 653. – Orontes, satrap of Mysia: IG II2 207. SEG 41,43. Harpalus, the treasurer of Alexander the Great: Athens. deipn. 13.586 d and 13.596 b. The son of Metrodorus of Cyzicus: IG II2 401. – Of these three honorific decrees, two date from after Chaeronea: the honoring to Harpalus (Athens. deipn. 13,586 d and 13,596 b) dates to between 333 and 324, that to the son of Metrodorus of Cyzicus (IG II2 401) roughly to 321 to 319. See Engen (2010) 225–229, his nos. 7–34. 278  On proxenia, see Gschnitzer (1974). Marek (1984). Culasso Gastaldi (2004) and (2005). Lambert (2006). Mack (2015). 279  Marek (1984) 270–271 and 359–631. – Also other poleis granted privileges in order to promote trade. Thus, for example, the grain-rich Olbia granted the Athenians Xanthippus and Philopolis the ateleia (I.Olbia 5 = SEG 42,722). Cf. also I.Olbia 1. 3. 6. 7. 9. 14. 15. Vinogradov/Kryžickij (1995) 73–74. 280  See, for example, Xen. hell. 6,1,4. [Demosth. or. 52,10. IG II2 176. 281  In doing so, the merchants could fall back on an internal information network; they were in exchange with another and informed each other about the best sales opportunities (Xen. oik. 20,27–28). Cf. also, for example, [Demosth.] or. 56,7 and 9–10. On information networks, see Descat (2002). 282  Plut. Solon 24.1. See Bravo (1983). Descat (1993). Cf. also on similar provisions in Teos SIG3 37 and 38. 277

74

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

and sold there; the remaining grain went to market in Piraeus.283 In addition, Athenian residents were forbidden to divert grain shipments to ports other than the Piraeus.284 Citizens and metics were only allowed to invest in the grain trade with the destination of Athens through maritime loans.285 Certain other goods were included286; for example, red chalk, which came from Keos and was important for shipbuilding.287 If Athenians or metics did not comply with these provisions, they

 [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 51.4: “to compel the traders to bring to the city two-thirds of the sea-borne corn that reaches the corn-market.” Cf. also [Demosth.] or. 35,51. 58,8 and 26. Din. 2.10. What is probably meant by this is that two-thirds of the grain had to be sold in the city of Athens and onethird in the Piraeus. Gauthier(1981) 8. Stroud (1998) 48. Bresson (2000a) 190. Rosivach (2000) 45. Migeotte (2002) 122. Eich (2006) 232–233. – Compliance was watched over by the overseers of the trading port. The epimeletai emporiou were a ten-member college drawn by lot ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 51.4) and are attested for the first time in the so-called Law on Contracts (SEG 26.72 = Hesperia 43 (1974) 157–188 = HGIÜ 221 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 25). Therefore, ships were only allowed to land in a certain area which was under the control of the sitophylakes and the epimeletai emporiou ([Demosth.] or. 35.28. 59.27. Lycurg. 1.55). The boundaries of the emporion are also attested by inscription (IG I2 890). 284  Demosth. or. 8.51. [Demosth.] or. 34,36–37. 35,50–51. 50,20. Lycurg. 1,27. Cf. also [Demosth.] or. 56,5–6. 285  [Demosth.] or. 35.51: ἀργύριον δὲ μὴ ἐξεῖναι ἐκδοῦναι Ἀθηναίων καὶ τῶν μετοίκων τῶν Ἀθήνησι μετοικούντων μηδενί, μηδὲ ὧν οὗτοι κύριοί εἰσιν, εἰς ναῦν ἥτις ἂν μὴ μέλλῃ ἄξειν σῖτον Ἀθήναζε, καὶ τἄλλα τὰ γεγραμμένα περὶ ἑκάστου αὐτῶν. ἐὰν δέ τις ἐκδῷ παρὰ ταῦτα, εἶναι τὴν φάσιν καὶ ἀπογραφὴν τοῦ ἀργυρίου πρὸς τοὺς ἐπιμελητάς, καθάπερ τῆς νεὼς καὶ τοῦ σίτου εἴρηται, κατὰ ταὐτά. καὶ δίκη αὐτῷ μὴ ἔστω περὶ τοῦ ἀργυρίου, ὃ ἂν ἐκδῷ ἄλλοσέ ποι ἢ Ἀθήναζε, μηδὲ ἀρχὴ εἰσαγέτω περὶ τούτου μηδεμία. “It shall be unlawful for any Athenian or any alien residing at Athens or for any person over whom they have control, to lend money on any vessel which is not going to bring to Athens grain or the other articles specifically mentioned.1 And if any man lends out money contrary to this decree, information and an account of the money shall be laid before the harbor-masters in the same manner as is provided in regard to the ship and the grain. And he shall have no right to bring action for the money which he has lent for a voyage to any other place than to Athens, and no magistrate shall bring any such suit to trial.” – Cf. also Demosth. or. 34.37. 56.6.11. Lycurgus 27. 286  The corresponding passage in [Demosth.] or. 35,51 (καὶ τἄλλα τὰ γεγραμμένα περὶ ἑκάστου αὐτῶν) is obscure and presents interpretative difficulties. 287  IG II2 1128 = HGIÜ 245 (before 350). The Greek term μίλτος denotes red chalk (“red ochre”), which can be made into a water-repellent paint. 283

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

75

ran the risk of being accused and losing at least the invested sum.288 Athens thus intervened indirectly, but effectively, in the conclusion of contracts and in market activities.289 These regulatory measures to steer the grain trade required no special expenditure from the polis and no special expertise to estimate the short-term effects. In contrast, the far-sightedness of all those structural improvement measures that could only pay off after a certain period of trial and error is impressive. Such institutional innovations formed, among other things, the basis for the exceptional flourishing of Greece, especially Athens, in the fourth century, as Joshia Ober has shown.290 Both the competition between the individual poleis for resources – in this case: grain – and the investment in education and knowledge had a positive effect on creative solution strategies.291 This included all those laws that provided legal security.292 But above all, these included the establishment of special court procedures (δίκαι

 The term apographe ([Demosth.] or. 35,51) mentioned in this context is ambiguous; it can mean a written declaration in general. Specifically, it meant the submission of a list of property to be confiscated. Subsequently the request for confiscation and the whole procedure were called apographe. See on this A. R. W. Harrison (1968–1971) II 211–217. Phillips (2013) 30–32 and 43. – However, the law omitted two groups: Strangers, that is, usually merchants who were in Athens only temporarily, and those who took up the money. It was thus a question here of the money lenders alone; it was evidently assumed that the borrowers were merchants – that is, foreigners – to whom no influence could be exerted. They could not be forbidden to transport grain to where they thought they would make the greatest profits. But what exactly is the point of the law? The intention is immediately obvious; grain voyages should have no other destination than Piraeus. But, after all, prohibiting investment in certain trades may not necessarily have the effect of stimulating trade in the desired product. It was evidently assumed that on the one hand there existed a group of people who wanted to use maritime loans as a means of income. They were to be deprived of at least one line of business so that the money thus available could be diverted to the desired commercial ventures. On the other hand, the availability of credit seems to have attracted to Athens, among others, those merchants who did not have sufficient equity and were therefore dependent on loans. These persons had no choice but to engage in such commercial transactions for which they could borrow money. But why did they not invest in other goods, but – this is, after all, the aim of the law – in grain in particular? Apparently grain was a lucrative trade that always promised high profits in Athens. Even if higher prices could be obtained in other ports, the combination of sales opportunities and available credit was a convincing argument for trading in grain in Athens. 289  This was only possible because, first, a large part of the trade voyages were financed by maritime loans (Demosth. or. 35.51) and because the Piraeus offered easy access to credit. 290  Ober (2016). 291  Cf. the schematic diagram in Ober (2016) 160 and especially his 9th chapter. 292  Thus merchants were to be protected from reckless persecution by threatening unsuccessful accusers with severe punishments([Demosth.] or. 58,10–11 and 53). Insufficient credit guarantee was allegedly even punishable by death ([Demosth.] or. 34,50). In addition, emporoi tried to protect against price agreements (Lys. or. 22,17). 288

76

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

ἐμπορικαί),293 which allowed long-distance traders, regardless of their citizenship status, to conduct legal disputes outside the shipping season within a month,294 in order to avoid interruptions in regular trade.295 The dikai emporikai and other legal measures were, of course, aimed not only at securing the supply of grain, but more generally at promoting trade. Nevertheless: all the legal measures outlined here promoted imports of vital staple food. Basically, they hardly caused any costs; only the allowance for the epimeletai and the remuneration of the jurors were expenses. What such innovations required, however, was the insight to make institutional modifications in order to keep the price of grain affordable (as far as possible) for all. For this to happen, three components had to come together: the perception that the current situation was unacceptable to the majority of the population, the idea of what to do that emerged from practice, and the ability to convince the assembly that the reforms were right. In contrast, the measures taken by Athens to ensure the supply of grain, which can be grouped into a third area, seem almost traditional. Athens also endeavored with (in the broadest sense) military-strategic means to secure the trade routes and  When exactly the dikai emporikai were established is not known. Terminus post quem is Xenophon’s proposal (vect. 3,3) to decide trade processes quickly and fairly in order to promote long-distance trade. Xenophon thus did not yet know any Athenian dikai emporikai. The terminus ante quem, on the other hand, is represented by the remark of Hegesippus ([Demosth.] or. 7,12) in 343/2 that emporikai dikai were not previously negotiated within a month’s time. – Three conditions had to be met in order to be considered a commercial case: (1) One of the litigants had to be an emporos or naukleros (Demosth. or. 32.1). (2) The dispute had to be in connection with a commercial voyage to or from Athens, so that non-Athenians could bring this form of action ([Demosth.] or. 34,42). (3) There had to be a written contract (Demosth. or. 32,1). The last condition indicates a close connection with maritime loans. Three of the four dikai emporikai ([Demosth.] or. 34 Against Phormio; 35 Against Lacritus; 56 Against Dionysiodorus) handed down in the Demosthenic corpus are, then, also derived from maritime loans; only the speech Against Apatourius ([Demosth.] or. 33) is loosely connected with a maritime loan.  – See Eich (2006) 169–171 for a rather drastic interpretation of the dikasteria emporika, in which he makes clear how far Athens’ arm reached in eastern Mediterranean trade: since every Athenian citizen and metic could appeal to the Athenian courts as a contracting party, even if the contracts had not been concluded in Athens, the emporoi had to be considerate of Athenian claims – not least since Athens could rely on denunciations and collaborations (Demosth. or. 32,9 and 22). In the case of the sole right of purchase which Athens had agreed with the cities of the island of Keos, the reward for denunciations was a share in the goods: Half of the confiscated goods went to the polis, the rest to the person who had uncovered the illegal export (IG II2 1128 l. 18–19 (?); 28–29; 36–37). Slaves who belonged to a criminal emporos whom they denounced could even hope for freedom and a share of three-quarters (IG II2 1128 l. 19–20; 29–30). – On the dikai emporikai in general, see Gernet (1955). E. E. Cohen (1973). MacDowell (1978) 231–234. Hansen (1983c). Vélissaropoulos (1980) 233–267. Todd (1993a) 334–337. Lanni (2006) 149–173. Leão (2006). – This apparently superseded the ναυτοδικαί, upon whom processes in the field of maritime affairs or alien law were incumbent. On this see A. R. W. Harrison (1968–1971) II 23–24. E. E. Cohen (1973) 162–184. MacDowell (1978) 229–231. – On the question whether separate courts were established for dikai emporikai, cf. E. E. Cohen (1973) 74–95, who answers in the affirmative. On the other hand, see Todd (1993a) 336–337. 294  [Demosth.] or. 7,12. 32,1 and 23. 34,42. 35,3. This was also true for negotiations on other business credits ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 52,2). 295  Demosth. or. 37,2. Eich (2006) 411. 293

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

77

especially the grain routes.296 The insecurity of the sea routes was indeed an omnipresent scenario.297 For example, in 362 the grain ships sailing from the Pontus region to Athens were attacked,298 and Philip II is said to have captured a total of 230,299 probably 180300 of them Athenian merchant ships, at the entrance to the Propontis in 340/39.301 Thus about seventy percent of the annual grain import worth 700 talents fell into Macedonian hands.302 Since the 390s at the latest, with the operations under the leadership of Thrasybulus, the polis made great financial and personnel efforts to enable the merchant ships to travel without danger. To this end, the polis sent embassies303 or provided ships to escort convoyed grain carriers protection.304 Athens operated continuously in the Propontis and northern Aegean,305 using up to twenty ships in an attempt to provide military protection for grain imports.306 The importance of the

 How important this was, especially in terms of mass psychology, is shown particularly impressively in the 22nd speech of Lysias. The speaker addresses the constant fear that the important basic foodstuff could become scarce. The accusation was that grain merchants would spread rumors that trade routes were threatened in order to evoke panic buying and thus drive up prices (Lys. or. 22:14–16). On grain hoarding and speculation, see Pazdera (2006) 97–99. 297  Enemy poleis allowed their citizens to bring up enemy ships and keep the booty (Xen. hell. 5,1,1. Demosth. or. 12,5. 52,5). In general, piracy was a constant problem. Alexander of Pherae, for example, commissioned buccaneers to raid and plunder the Piraeus (Polyain. 6,2,2). Melos even allowed pirates to use the island’s port facilities as bases. From there, they threatened the southern trade routes (Demosth. or. 58,56), while Euboean freebooters, on the other hand, disturbed the northern ones (Demosth. or. 18,241). – On the influence of piracy on Athens’ grain imports, see Pazdera (2006) 68–83. 298  [Demosth.] or. 50,6. 299  So Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 292. 300  So Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 162. 301  This is how Bresson (1994) 48 explains the various figures. 302  The figure is then arrived at by believing the 800,000 medimnoi mentioned by Demosthenes (or. 20,31–32), and assuming an average cargo capacity of 3000 medimnoi. See above note 233. 303  IG II2 409 (approx. from the year 330): honor to two men who had brought grain from their homeland to Athens. Athens then deputized two envoys to continue to guarantee the supply of grain from this polis (Sinope or Cyrene?).  – IG II2 360 (from the year 324): The merchant Heraclides was arrested in Heraklea on the southern coast of the Black Sea. Athens then sent an envoy to avoid such incidents in the future as well. 304  Demosth. or. 18.73 and 301. [Demosth.] or. 50.17–20. For example, in 376 the Spartans threatened a grain convoy that was on its way to Athens. The Athenians then dispatched ships and brought the convoy safely to the Piraeus (Diod. 15,34,3). 305  In 335/34 the Athenians sent the strategos Diotimus as protection against pirates in the Pontus (IG II2 1623 l. 276–282) and between 332 and 325 he was entrusted as strategos with the protection of the grain transport from Sicily to Athens (IG II2 408). Thrasybulus, on the other hand, was to give safe conduct to a grain squadron in 326/5 (IG II2 1628 l. 37–42). 306  Demosth. 18.73 (twenty ships). Polyaen. 5.22 (ten triremes). IG II2 1628 l. 37–88 (at least five triremes; the exact number cannot be discerned because of the fragmentary nature of inscription). – Rhodes, too, may have had its merchants escorted (Diod. 20,82,2). 296

78

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

northeastern Aegean for grain imports explains, at least in part, Athenian interest in forming a new naval alliance.307 At the same time, the Athenians always endeavored to establish and protect cleruchies, which were significant not only as a safeguard for grain routes but also as production sites and transit ports for Athens’ grain imports.308 Since the King’s Peace of 387/6, the islands of Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros once again belonged to Athens, after the polis had briefly regained control of these important bases as early as 393.309 Following further conquests, more cleruchies could be established on Samos,310 (briefly) in Poteidaia311 and Sestos, the “(grain) sieve of Piraeus”.312 Athens, however, also oriented itself to the west – and not only to southern Italy and Sicily.313 An apoikia on the Adriatic coast, documented in inscriptions, explicitly served to supply grain.314 The extent to which cleruchies served the Athenian grain supply can be seen in detail in an extraordinary document: the so-called Grain Tax Law (νόμος περὶ τοῦ τῆς δωδεκάτης τοῦ σίτου) of 374/3, which ordered a new procedure for dealing

 Hopper (1982) 65.  See on Athenian cleruchies in the fourth century Erxleben (1975b). Hansen (1985a) 70–72. Schmitz (1988) 298–310. Cargill (1995). Salomon (1997). Moreno (2007a) 77–143 and (2009). 309  Xen. hell. 5,1,31. Cf. IG II2 30. 310  Demosth. or. 15,9. Isocr. or. 15,111. Diod. 18,18,9. 311  IG II2 114. 312  Diod. 16,34,3–4. On the conquest of the Chersonesus by the Athenians see Tzvetkova (2007). – “Sieve of Piraeus”: Aristot. rhet. 1411 a 13–14. 313  Sicily: IG II2 408. Demosth. or. 32,18. 33,13. 56,9. Xen. oec. 20,27. Southern Italy: Plin. nat. 18,65. 314  IG II2 1629 l. 217–232: ὅπως δ’ ἂν ὑπάρχηι | [τῶ]ι δήμωι εἰς τὸν ἅπαντα | [χρ]όνον ἐμπορία οἰκεία καὶ | [σιτ]οπομπία, καὶ ναυστάθμο | [οἰκ]είου κατασκευασθέν|[το]ς ὑπάρχει φυλακὴ ἐπὶ | [Τυρ]ρηνοὺς καὶ Μιλτιά|[δης] ὁ οἰκιστὴς | καὶ οἱ ἔποι|[κοι ἔχ]ωσιν χρῆσθαι οἰκεί|[ωι ναυ]τικῶι, καὶ τῶν Ἑλ|[λήνων] καὶ βαρβάρων οἱ | [πλέοντε]ς τὴν θάλατταν | [καὶ αὐτοὶ ε]ἰσπλέωσιν εἰ|[ς τὸ ναύσταθμ]ον τὸ Ἀθηναίων, | [πλοῖά τε ἕξον]τες καὶ τὰ ἄλ|[λα ἐμ βεβαίωι, […] “To ensure that the people have their own maritime trade and grain supply at their disposal for all times, so that there is protection of their own pier (ναύσταθμος) against the Tyrrhenians [i. e. Etruscans], so that the oikistes Miltiades and the settlers can use their own fleet, so that both the Hellenes and barbarians going to sea and they themselves [the Athenians] can call at the Athenians’ trading port, so that both ships and the rest can be in safety […].” The apoikia is not localized; but it must have been on the Adriatic (IG II2 1629 l. 176: εἰς τὸν Ἀδρίαν). Since in the fourth century the Etruscans on the Adriatic coast were only to be found at the mouth of the Po, and the Po Valley was one of the granaries of Italy, there is much to be said for the establishment of a port in this area, according to Isager/Hansen (1975) 26. How long the Athenian colony lasted there, however, is unknown. See on the inscription and the apoikia Braccesi (1977) 289–293. Garnsey (1988) 158–159. Pazdera (2006) 207–220. On the not always clear distinction between apoikia and cleruchy (and related to the legal relationship with the mother city) Moggi (1981) 20–28. Figueira (1991). Cargill (1995) 135–138. Salomon (1997) 219–220. Igelbrink (2015). On the various attempts of localization Pazdera (2006) 212–215. – Also in connection with the posting of this colony could be the lost speech of Hypereides On the Outpost Against the Etruscans (Frg. 56,195–196). Isager/Hansen (1975) 27. 307 308

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

79

with the grain levies of Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros.315 The law originated from a proposal of Agyrrhius and aimed at the public stockpiling of grain.316 For this purpose, both the grain-twelfth of Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros, and the grain-­pentekoste (πεντηκοστὴ σίτο) were to be auctioned (πωλεῖν) (l. 6–8).317 The shares consisted each of 100 medimnoi of wheat and 400 medimnoi of barley. The buyer was obliged to arrange transport before the month of Maimakterion (November/December) at his own expense as far as the city, first to store the grain in the Aiakeion, and finally, within thirty days, to portion the grain, dry and freed of other constituents. For this purpose, a conversion was made from measure of capacity to unit of weight: the portions each comprised one talent, which corresponded to five hekteis of wheat or one medimnos of barley. The buyer had to provide two guarantors for each share of 500 medimnoi, who were subjected to a dokimasia by the council. Six men formed an organizational unit (συμμορία) of 3000 medimnoi. They owed grain to the polis, which could collect it from individual members as well as from the group as a whole. As overseers, ten men were elected by the ekklesia in spring.318 Their term of office began, as it usually did, with the new year of office; their task was first to supervise whether all buyers had brought their shares to Athens to the Aiakeion before the Maimakterion (November/December). Then, when the ekklesia had made the decision to sell – not before the month of Anthesterion (February/March), that is, about three months before the new harvest and at the beginning of the shipping season – and had fixed the price of the grain, the supervisors had to bring it to the market in portions. They

 SEG 48.96 = Stroud (1998) = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 26. See on the law generally Stroud (1998). Faraguna (1999). E. M. Harris (1999). Engels (2000a). Rosivach (2000). Gauthier (2001). Marchiandi (2002). Moreno (2003). Fantasia (2004). Eich (2006) 224–228 and 445–446. Pazdera (2006) 183–186. Hochschulz (2007) 89–97. Jakab (2007). Moreno (2007a) 103–115. Hansen (2009). Moreno (2009). Magnetto/Erdas/Carusi (2010). Johnstone (2011) 67–69. Sorg (2015). Stroud (2016). – The most extensively preserved stele was found on the agora; but there was probably a copy with a more detailed form elsewhere. This is indicated by the unusually skimped preamble. Also missing are instructions as to where the inscription should be placed and who financed it at what price. 316  The introductory clause, which clearly states the intention of the law (l. 5–6), is also attested in other inscriptions. SEG 18.13 l. 5–7 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 81 A. See the parallels cited by Stroud (1998) 25. 317  See, on the other hand, E. M. Harris (1999) 270–272, who assumes that it was a transit tax levied on the grain route passing the islands. However, such a tax would have had the effect of diverting the flow of grain away from the islands. See for discussion Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 123, comment on no. 26. 318  SEG 48.96 l. 36–42. The election took place at the same time as that of the strategoi, that is, not before the seventh prytany. The exact time depended on good omens ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 44.4). – It is noticeable that they were elected, and not drawn by lot, as, for instance, the sitophylakes were. Usually only military offices and the commissioners of the theoric fund were elected. These are new magistrates whose names are not known. Their duties were similar to those of the poletai (drawn by lot), who did not have to show any expertise. Why they were elected and not drawn by lot therefore remains an open question. Above all, the Athenians at this time already had the sitophylakes, who were also drawn by lot and not elected, and who also supervised the sale of grain. 315

80

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

were accountable by explaining the accounts to the assembly and by showing the proceeds that went into the war fund, as well as handing them over to the apodektai.319 This is a modification of the levy mode that had existed at the latest since 387/6. From now on, the landowners on Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros were to pay a levy of one-twelfth of their yield in kind (and not in cash as before).320 This served to achievethree goals: Grain entered the Athenian market, grain taxes were mitigated, and money was generated for military purposes. Although the inscription poses supplementary difficulties only in very few places321 and the intention of the law is completely clear, the interpretation remains controversial at important points: Who paid the taxes? What was meant by the grain-pentekoste (line 8)? How did the buyers generate income? What was the Aiakeion? How much grain was involved? What was the revenue for the polis? The conversion from measure of capacity to a weight unit used a very low weight for wheat and barley, why was that the case? Which persons were meant by the συμμορία (lines 31–36)? The last passage (lines 55–61) also causes problems: Why is it once mentioned that the buyers should not deposit anything (line 27), why are advance payments mentioned later? The answers to these questions are partly interrelated, such as the number of imports, the amount of revenue and the localisation of the Aiakeion. A coherent overall picture must therefore be sketched which answers all the questions as plausibly as possible. Two principles need to be applied: (1) The organization of public finances was largely free of cost-intensive structures; the system must therefore only involve low transaction costs. (2) The lease had to be a lucrative business for both the polis and the buyer; in other words, there had to be a win-win situation for both parties. Like the port duties or the metoikion, the polis auctioned off the grain twelfth of the islands of Lemnos, Imbros and Skyros and the grain-pentekoste once a year. For Lemnos in the fourth century, it can be noted that most of the peasants had moderate landholdings; the Athenian cleruchs apparently belonged to all socio-economic classes (i.e. not only to the pentakosiomedimnoi, as Moreno assumed).322 Accordingly, the grain twelfth of the islands was a percentage levy on the harvest to

 For the time of the passing of the resolution, the procedure was modified once: The apodects were to pay out an amount for the grain twelfth and grain pentecoste for the year in which the Grain Tax law was passed, based on the “two tenths” of the previous year. In the future, however, the “two tenths” were not to be taken from the general fund (SEG 48.96 l. 55–61). – The apodektai formed a ten-member college, each of whose members was drawn from a phyle. Pseudo-Aristotle (Ath. pol. 48.1–2) describes their duties in relative detail: they kept accounts of the amounts owed by private individuals to the polis. In the process, in the presence of the council members, they erased the sums that had already been paid. If the debtor remained in default, they doubled the debt. These powers explain why they were also involved in the organization of the trierarchy. For example, they collected equipment owed directly or through the overseers of the shipyards (IG II2 1627 and 1629). On the apodektai in general, see Rhodes (1996) and Papazarkadas (2013). 320  Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 122 in commentary on n 26. 321  For example, in the restoration ζ]|ών‹η›ι instead of χ]|ών‹η›ι in l. 25–26. 322  See on the farm size on Lemnos Marchiandi (2002). Culasso Gastaldi (2008a) and (2008b). 319

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

81

be paid by all farming inhabitants, a kind of income tax in kind, although the size of the property was not standardized. The Athenians usually chose to auction off public revenues for two reasons: either to know in advance the amount to be collected or to keep staff costs low. But the former is not possible in this case, when the highest bidder did not have to provide an advance on the lease sum, which was in grain. This resulted in a shortfall in payments for the current year: Due to the conversion of money levies into levies in kind, which did not add revenue to the military fund until about half a year after the harvest (April at the earliest, but probably later), there was no revenue from the islands in the first council year (of the resolution). For this reason, a different procedure was adopted for the current year to add an equivalent amount to the stratiotica323: The apodektai were to pay a sum from the general fund into the military fund in lieu of an advance payment. The amount was measured by the “two tenths” of the previous year.324 The latter item is probably to be understood as the normally customary levy for a rent surcharge, which was to be paid in advance.325 Therefore, it can be assumed that the buyers326 demanded the grain twelfth, just as, for example, the metoikion, from the payers. The right to collect grain was auctioned by offering shares of 500 medimnoi each. In this case the buyer had to furnish two sureties for each 500-medimnoi share (lines 29–31). That μερίς (line 8) refers to a geographical unit, on the other hand, is not convincing.327 Accordingly, the procedure can be reconstructed as follows: A person (ὁ πριάμενος) bought a 500-medimnoi share (or several shares) by auction. At the auction, it had to be made known where he was allowed to collect the one-twelfth of the grain; thus, the question at the auction was  – following other lease procedures  – “Who bids how many 500-medimnoi shares for Lemnos (respectively Imbros or  Cf. on the other hand Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 126 in the commentary on no. 26, who assume that the advance payment was already decided under the old conditions, when the lease bids were still to be made in money. For this reason, it remains unclear to them why the sum to be distributed by the apodects was based on the two tenths of the previous year and not the current year. To solve this problem, they suggest that even under the old conditions the bids consisted of grain, which was then converted into money when grain prices became known. This seems implausible: the bids were certainly given in money before then, just as the bids for, say, customs or the metoikion were. The changeover to the levy in kind, the proceeds of which were available in the following year at the earliest, meant that no levies flowed into the public treasury for the current year. Since the bids in the current year were submitted in kind, but the proceeds were based on the sales price in the following year, it did not make sense to wait until the auction, but it was obvious to orient oneself on the figures of the previous year. 324  SEG 48.96 l. 55–61: “As an advance payment (of the twelfth of grain) from the islands, and (as an advance payment) of the five percent import duty, the apodektai shall distribute just as much as in the former year (the advance payment) obtained from the two tenths, this shall now apply to the administration of the finances, and in future no two tenths shall be taken from the money deposited.” 325  E. M. Harris (1999). 326  The plural appears in l. 21 and 47. By contrast, see Moreno (2003) 100 with note 25, who assumes a single buyer. 327  Thus Faraguna (1999) 90–96. The law twice (l. 8–10 and 31–33) refers the term μερίς to grain. See also Gauthier (2001) 164. 323

82

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

Skyros  – or respective geographical units of these islands)?”328 Accordingly, the lease sum consisted in grain, which the buyer had to deliver. For this reason, he did not have to pay an advance, which at least allowed less well-off but experienced men to attend the auction, since after the auction was completed, the buyer paid only twenty drachmas in expenses for each 500-medimnoi share for the auction, as well as the sale fee later (lines 28–29). The bottom line is that, as usual, several interested parties joined together to form a association, which the law calls a symmoria (lines 31–36). Six men formed a symmoria, which was responsible for a total of 3000 medimnoi – that is, for a shipload (lines 31–36).329 If one person did not deliver his share of 500 medimnoi, the other five persons came up for him with twenty medimnoi of wheat and eighty medimnoi of barley each. Accordingly, Agyrrhis’ proposal also regulated the size and mutual obligations of the bidding communities.330 This way, the risk for the polis of not getting the amount owed was reduced without overburdening the remaining members of the symmoria. However, if cargo was lost due to piracy or storm, then the buyers had to pay for the grain owed since each buyer had agreed to transport it at his own risk (lines 10–12). After the buyer had won the bid, he went to Lemnos, Imbros, or Skyros, approached the individual landowners, and demanded a twelfth of the grain. If he had calculated correctly, the quantity received exceeded that which he had bid; but in the worst case, he had to buy grain in addition. So it depended largely on the buyer’s experience and local knowledge whether he made a profit: was the harvest expected to be good? Were the agricultural conditions favourable? Or maybe was the purchased catchment area rather used for raising livestock or cultivating olives than growing grain? If he had calculated well, he had received more grain from the farmers than he had to deliver. This grain he could sell; the proceeds formed part of his profit margin. When the priamenos landed at Piraeus, he paid the import duty and brought the grain to the Aiakeion, where he portioned it. Within thirty days of delivery, the buyers were to weigh the grain, that is, to convert the volume of the grain into a measure of weight, since grain poured into a measure of capacity is initially less compact and  In this sense, the auction of the grain tax would be similar to that of silver mining licenses. In both cases, a collection permit for a geographical unit is granted to the highest bidder. – Similarly, Faraguna (1999). An entirely different interpretation was proposed by Moreno (2003). He assumes that the proposed law was based on the Solonian pentakosiomedimnoi. The 500 medimnoi, which gave the name to the property class, corresponded to one-twelfth of an annual income of one talent. The mention of the 500-medimnoi shares in the Grain Tax Law of 374/3 testifies that the Athenians awarded uniform kleroi of about fifty hectares. Therefore, all kleroi yielded the same 500-medimnoi share. The grain twelfth would therefore be, according to Moreno (2003) 100, “a new and considerable liturgy that […] had to be performed year after year” or, according to Moreno (2003) 105, “the first known yearly εἰσφορά.” Since all cleruchs had to deliver the same share, it was known exactly how many merides were destined for export to Athens. The task of the buyer, therefore, was to collect only the grain from the cleruchs grouped in symmories. 329  See, on the other hand, Moreno (2003) 101, who assumes that it is not a symmory of buyers but of persons liable to levy. 330  Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 124 in the commentary on no. 26. 328

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

83

therefore more voluminous.331 The weight figure is set very low,332 even though, as Theophrastus notes, Lemnian wheat was heavier in relation to Bosporan wheat333: a medimnos comprised about 52.5 liters,334 a talent at this time amounting to 27.47 kilograms,335 so that a medimnos of wheat converted to five hekteis as the equivalent of a talent actually weighed about 32.96 kilogram.336 If one compares the correlation used here with, for example, the information in Pliny, who assumes the equivalent of 39.3 kilograms per medimnos wheat,337 then this allows the conclusion that the conversion was made in favour of the buyer. The difference, rounded off, was six kilograms per medimnos, or about 600 kilograms for 100 medimnoi of wheat. The buyer therefore had the opportunity to offer this surplus for sale on the open market. If one calculates with six drachmas per medimnos of wheat as the average price,338 whereby a medimnos in the “normal” standard must be set at 39 kilograms, he can sell about fifteen medimnoi at a profit and keep a profit of 90 drachmas, after all. The same can be assumed for barley, which is lighter than wheat, but here too there is a difference of about five kilograms per medimnos.339 The buyer therefore had a surplus of 2000 kilograms, i.e. 58 medimnoi, which he could sell at a price of about three drachmas per medimnos, i.e. for a total of 174 drachmas.340 Thus, from the favorable conversion of a measure of capacity to a weight unit alone, the buyer was able to collect about 265 drachmas per meris. Moreover, it can be assumed that he additionally bought grain from the peasants at a reduced price, so that he also invested in the regular grain trade in addition to the leasing business. Moreover, if the data of the Eleusinian inscription of 329 also apply to the year 374, the wheat share of the real harvest was on average higher than the ratio of 1:4 given in the inscription.341 The buyer therefore had – except on Lemnos342 – more wheat in relation to barley, which he could sell more expensively than barley. From these proceeds, he had to pay the cost of the auction (twenty drachmas each per 500-medimnoi share), the sales tax, the transport, and the import duty. The lower the transport costs were for him, the better he assessed the harvest situation, and the more money he invested in buying additional grain, the higher his profit was. Therefore, it was most efficient when cleruchs and naukleroi joined forces as bidders.  See the comments in Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 124 in the commentary on no. 26. See also IG II2 1672 at 254; 281; 285. 332  See above note a in Table 2.2. 333  Theophr. c. plant. 4,9,5 and h. plant. 8,4,5. See Sallares (1991) 331. 334  Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 124 in the commentary on no. 26. 335  Lang/Crosby (1964) 3–4. 336  Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 125 in the commentary on no. 26. 337  Plin. nat. 18.66–70. Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 125 in the commentary on no. 26. 338  Stroud (1998) 63. 339  See the weight data in Foxhall/Forbes (1982) 42–44. One medimnos of barley is equivalent to 33 kilograms. 340  See on the price of barley Stroud (1998) 63. 341  IG II2 1672. See on this below note 349. 342  On Lemnos four times more barley than wheat was grown. See note 349 below. 331

84

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

The auction of the πεντηκοστὴ σίτο mentioned in the inscription opened up another possibility of revenue (l. 8). The interpretation of this seemingly simple concept is also controversial. Ultimately, the solutions revolve around two questions: (1) Was the grain pentekoste mentioned in l. 8 identical with the one in l. 57, and is it the same as the “normal” pentekoste?343 (2) Was it auctioned together with the twelfth or in a separate procedure? A hint is given at the beginning of the law. There it is said that the purchaser shall transport the grain to Athens at his own risk and expense (τέλεσιν τοῖς αὑτõ, lines 13–14). The phrase uses the term τέλος, which does not mean levy in general, but specifically customs or tribute.344 Thus, since the grain buyer had to pay port duty, he had not purchased the grain-pentekoste together with his 500-medimnoi share at auction. The grain-pentekoste could therefore be acquired from a customs buyer in a separate procedure. The apodektai were also to distribute the advance payment of the pentekoste (l. 57). So what kind of levy was it? Usually πεντηκοστή denotes a duty equal to one-fiftieth. Many Greek poleis levied such a two-percent ad valorem tax on imported and exported goods. Athens auctioned the collection of the pentekoste to the highest bidder, who often joined with others as the chief buyer – just as Agyrrhius had done, for example, in 402/1.345 In the present case the ad valorem tax on a particular commodity is specified (πεντηκοστὴ σίτο). Such tax is also attested for the year 369/8, which, however, was made – as was usual – in monthly instalments.346 In the present case, however, the duty also consisted of grain. Otherwise, it would have been necessary to specify into which fund the lease sum would flow. In general, the law intended to increase the availability of grain. It can therefore be assumed that the pentekoste tou sitou was a tax in kind that was levied when grain (not only from the islands) arrived in Piraeus.347 Now, what income did the polis receive? The calculations are based on the estimated grain yield of the three islands. Here we have to rely on the Eleusinian inscription, which was also used for the production in Attica.348 If we take the  Cf. [Demosth.] or. 59.27. So also Faraguna (1999) 65. E. M. Harris (1999) 272. Bresson (2000a) 207–208. 344  Stephanus (1854): ThGL s. v. τέλος, 1997–1998. 345  And. 1,133–134. 346  [Demosth.] or. 59,27. 347  Contra Stroud (1998) 15–16, who assumes a grain export tax was due at the ports of the three islands. 348  IG II2 1672 . – This assumes that production did not change significantly within 45 years and that the mode of levy to the goddess of Eleusis remained the same for about a century. If so, it would seem that the Grain Tax Law of 374/3 was tailored to Lemnian conditions, since the largest of the three islands produced four times more barley than wheat. In contrast, Imbros produced about twice as much wheat as barley. On average, the three islands produced a wheat to barley ratio of 1 to 2.74: Lemnos: 56,750 medimnoi of wheat to 248,525 medimnoi of barley. Imbros: 44,200 medimnoi of wheat to 26,000 medimnoi of barley. Skyros accordingly: 9600 medimnoi of wheat to 28,800 medimnoi of barley. Lemnos, Imbros and Skyros together: 110,550 medimnoi of wheat to 303,325 medimnoi of barley. Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 124 in commentary on no. 26. 343

2.2  The Polis as a Community of Fate

85

aparchai of 329/8 as a basis, we can assume that more than 30,000 medimnoi of grain from Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros reached Athens annually on about ten ships.349 Lemnos may have supplied fifty 500-medimnoi shares,350 while the other two islands together raised at least ten to thirteen shares of 500 medimnoi each.351 This corresponded to sales proceeds of about eleven to twenty talents,352 with barley not being as popular as wheat but costing only about half as much.353 The Grain Tax Law represented an annually repeated massive interference by the polis in market activity to reduce price fluctuations in the long term and to make grain stocks accessible to the city’s inhabitants.354 The law, meanwhile, is a clever device: from now on, grain produced on Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros was at least partially shipped to Athens rather than elsewhere, citizens determined the price they deemed appropriate, and, in addition, money regularly flowed into the military coffers; thus, with very little extra effort, the switch from a monetary to an in-kind tax achieved a triple purpose with a single measure. It is therefore by no means a coincidence that Agyrrhius, of all people, made this proposal. Not very much is known about him, but the little information we do have paints a coherent picture: he was ambitious and used publicly funded benefits to gain popularity. For example, the introduction of the ekklesiastikon was largely due

 Stroud (1998) 41–42: 31,000 medimnoi. – Cf. on the other hand Moreno (2003) 103 and (2007a) 113, who estimates an enormous 270,000–300,000 medimnoi, which reached Athens on about ninety freighters. Apart from the fact that such a large convoy would certainly have overstretched the capacities of the emporion, Moreno (2003) 103 also overestimates the trade possibilities of the time compared to the Roman imperial period. Since he assumes a single “super-buyer,” he must assume a multitude of guarantors and contracts with emporoi. – Stroud’s proposed quantity would fit into the rectangular peribolos in the agora, which he identified as the Aiakeion. Stroud (2010) 17. The identification is based on a partially restored formulation in IG I3 426 l. 5–8. The building is located in the south-western area and probably dates to an Archaic building which was an uncovered meeting place enclosed by a perimeter wall. The building was probably restored between 340 and 330 and received an extension consisting of three rooms in the western area. On this building, see H. A. Thompson/Wycherley (1972) 52–72. Knell (2000) 101–102. Camp (2010) 170–171. – Since Moreno (2003) and (2007a, b) assume much larger quantities, he rejects the identification. Similarly, Engels (2000a) 101 note 21 (though for different reasons) opposed this identification. 350  Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 124 in the commentary on no. 26. 351  One-twelfth of the total quantity of wheat (110,550 medimnoi) is equal to 9,212.5 medimnoi; one-twelfth of the total quantity of barley (303,325 medimnoi) is equal to 25,277 medimnoi. The calculation is therefore based on the quantity of barley. 352  11 talents: Bresson (2000a) 208–210. 15–20 talents: Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 126, comment on no. 26. 18 ½ talents: Stroud (1998) 76. 353  Barley three drachmas, wheat about six drachmas. Stroud (1998) 63. 354  This blocked the way for small producers in particular to make the highest possible profits from their modest surpluses in the months leading up to the new harvest. Eich (2006) 225. 349

86

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

to him.355 Therefore Harpocration also saw in him the originator of theorika.356 He succeeded Thrasybulus in 389, took over the supreme command of the fleet, and gained military experience as a general. Therefore, he was able to assess the importance of continuously guaranteed war financing from his perspective. In doing so, he made use of his privately acquired expertise, which he had acquired as a buyer of the customs revenues.357 From this, it can be concluded that he belonged to both the economic and the political elite, that his competences lay in the military and economic spheres, and that he advocated policies that would benefit the majority of Athenians. He, therefore, seems to have had a sense for the needs of the citizens as well as for practicable solutions. Such ability is also reflected in the Grain Tax Law. This was a populist measure in the literal sense of the word, i.e. a consumer-oriented intervention: the people were to have grain in public hands358 so that the “average citizen” with “normal purchasing power” could afford this staple food.359 The vote on the timing of the sale itself was also highly political; there were two alternatives to choose from: Either wait and opt for greater profits as well as a higher military budget, which may have relieved eisphora payers, or sell at the first sign of a price increase and therefore choose lower proceeds coupled with lower food costs, which provided relief to less fortunate city dwellers in particular.360 The debate and the vote in the assembly, which was carried out by majority decision, therefore placed high demands on social cohesion, as Flaig and Timmer have shown.361 For majority voting presupposes that the overall will is valued more highly than one’s own preference.362 Accordingly, even those groups of people who privately pursued conflicting economic interests were prepared to compromise. In the expectation of achieving what was best for the community, the Athenians apparently were able to define what was

 [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41.3. See on the placement of the assembly pay in the domestic political context Funke (1980a) 116–117. 356  Harpocr. s. v. θεωρικά: Δημοσθένης Φιλιππικῷ. Θεωρικὰ ἦν τινὰ ἐν κοινῷ χρήματα ἀπὸ τῶν τῆς πόλεως προσόδων συναγόμενα⋅ ταῦτα δὲ πρότερον μὲν εἰς τὰς τοῦ πολέμου χρείας ἐϕυλάττετο καὶ ἐκαλεῖτο στρατιωτικά, ὕστερον δὲ κατετίθετο εἴς τε τὰς δημοσίας κατασκευὰς καὶ διανομάς, ὧν πρῶτος ἤρξατο Ἀγύρριος ὁ δημαγωγός. Φιλόχορος δ’ ἐν τῇ γʹ τῆς Ἀτθίδος ϕησὶ „τὸ δὲ θεωρικὸν ἦν τὸ πρῶτον νομισθὲν δραχμὴ τῆς θέας, ὅθεν καὶ τοὔνομα ἔλαβε“καὶ τὰ ἑξῆς. “Demosthenes in the Philippian [speech]. The theorika were certain moneys in the public treasury, accumulated from the revenues of the polis; these were at first kept for military purposes and called stratiotika, but later they were used both for public buildings and for distributions, with which the demagogue Agyrrhius was the first to begin. Philochorus, however, says in the 3rd book of Atthis: ‘The theorikon was first thought to be a drachma for the spectacle, whence it took its name,’ etc.” 357  And. 1,133–134. 358  SEG 48.96 l. 5–6. 359  See Eich (2006) 227–228 for the terms. 360  So also Pazdera (2006) 185. 361  See on majority rule in general Flaig (2013a) and (2013b) and specifically on majority rule in Athenian democracy Timmer (2009). 362  Flaig (2013a) 150. 355

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

87

useful and advantageous on a supra-individual level and to restrain the indivdual concerns. However, this phenomenon is also evident in the other precautions taken to optimize grain supply. In addition to the relatively simple, traditional measures (such as honors and prohibitions), the mid-fourth century also saw the emergence of innovative measures characterized by expertise and practical experience, which reveal both an awareness of the problem and a desire to solve it. This in turn required successful communication between those who needed and expected help and support and those who could develop forward-thinking and complex strategies and present them convincingly, but also the view that it was right and important for the community to spend financial and human resources on poorer fellow citizens. The basis for this were a specific understanding of poverty, which did not see penia as a weakness of character,363 and the idea “regarding the chances of evil and of good as the same for all alike.”364 The Athenians thus saw themselves as a community of fate characterized by solidarity in the sense of taking each other’s interests into account, acquired through political socialization, consolidated through shared military experience, and practiced through religious rituals.

2.3 The Polis as a Cult Community 2.3.1 Not Only a Matter of Faith: The Religous Expenditures Greek religion was generally focused on the here and now. Although certain mystery cults were concerned with the existence of the soul in the afterlife, the correct performance of certain rites at the proper time was intended to secure the benevolence of the gods primarily in this world. These religious acts were undertaken by actors either privately for themselves or officially on behalf of the community. In addition to rituals that were performed as needed at irregular intervals (for example, at the beginning of the assembly), most cult celebrations were fixed to specific times and structured the annual cycle (such as the Panathenaea). While some private religious acts were site-independent, most public ones were in turn tied to specific topographies with sacred architecture. Accordingly, public religion can be defined as those religious acts that were performed for the welfare of the political community and financed by communal funds. Therefore, to differentiate between public

 Cecchet (2015) 185–226 was able to convincingly work out that the Athenians did not regard poverty per se as an evil, if an attempt was made to actively counteract it. This penia, with its positive connotations, should be distinguished from ptocheia, which was associated with laziness and therefore considered self-inflicted. On poverty in Athens, see also Taylor (2017). 364  Lys. or. 24,22. 363

88

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

and private religion, the criterion of funding is often applied: Who pays for the sacrifices, the temple, the cult personnel?365 However, such a categorization is not always clearly feasible, since religious activity was rarely separable from communal activity. Therefore, the demarcation of religious expenditures from expenditures for other purposes is hardly clear-cut – the religious sphere was too deeply interwoven with daily life and religious festivals were too multifunctional; sacred activities could easily be charged with political significance. For example, the theater, which was so important for the political, social, and cultural identity of the Athenians, formed part of the sanctuary of Dionysus.366 Similarly, the publicly financed embassies to the panhellenic sanctuaries can hardly be viewed in isolation from the festivals, and oracles there.367 The expenses for the choral performances – for example on Delos – were, as elsewhere, entrusted to suitable private individuals as choregies.368 From these examples, two main consequences can be drawn for what follows: On the one hand, the entanglement of the sacred and the political spheres led to an almost inextricable web of funding, as expenditures for public religion were met from the resources of the polis, the gods, and private individuals. On the other hand, Athenian hiereis, since they operated with public funds, were accountable just like other magistrates. Even though some specific priestly offices were hereditary in certain families, other individuals charged with religious acts functioned as public (appointed, drawn by lot, or elected) officials.369 Accordingly, religious expenditures were treated like all other expenditures; hence, they demanded transparency of operations, so that we are informed about them in relative detail by archaeological, epigraphic, and literary evidence.370 For two festivals the Athenians made even more organizational and financial effort than for others: The implementation of the Great Dionysia and the Panathenaea, which took place every four years as τὰ μεγάλα Παναθήναια, even lay in the

 Thus, for example, Aleshire (1994) 9 who, in her discussion of the term ‘state cult’, suggests speaking of publicly-financed rites or publicly-financed sacrifices. See on the notion of polis-religion Sourvinou-Inwood (1988), (1990) and (2011) and on the critique of the concept Kindt (2009). In the present case, in the context of public finance, Kindt’s critique of the concept falls flat, as she herself concedes ibid. 12–13. 366  The theater was basically conceived as an extension of the Dionysion, even if in the fourth century the venue was increasingly used for assemblies. Moretti (1999/2000) 380. 367  For example, Demosthenes was elected ἀρχιθέωρος for the legation to Olympia in 324 because of Alexander’s Exiles Decree (Dein. 1.81–82). Also, the apodektai allocated to the architheoroi the sums of money for transportation, food and lodging, sacrifices, dedications, and processions (SEG 30.66 l. 38–40). On the funding of architheoriai, see Rutherford (2013) 215–217. 368  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56.2. 369  Ostwald (1986) 137–174. Aleshire (1994) 14–15. 370  For example, an inscription from the 380s informs us who had won which victory at which agon during the Panathenaea (IG II2 2311). See generally on this Panathenaic prize list J.  L. Shear (2001) 389–398 and (2003). 365

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

89

responsibility of special magistrates.371 Both festivals always fulfilled the important social and religious function of making visible and strengthening the cohesion of the citizenry; however, they also functioned as a political and cultural means of identification, although a shift in emphasis can be observed in comparison to the fifth century: While at the time of the Delisan League both festivals also served primarily as a demonstration of power towards the allies,372 in the fourth century the two main festivals developed even more into large-scale religious mass events, which attracted visitors from all over the Greek world.373 The Great Dionysia and Great Panathenaea appeared to be such extraordinarily lavish events that Demosthenes even accused the Athenians of spending more money on these two festivals than on a single fleet deployment.374 Even if this claim was false,375 the financial and organizational outlay was enormous  – the Great Panathenaea even possessed a more extensive program than the Olympic Games.376 At the Dionysia and the Panathenaea (in addition to the obligatory processions, sacrifices and the banquet) competitions took place that differed significantly in character (see Tables 2.3 and 2.4).377

 Cf. for example Aristoph. Pax 416–420. Parker (1996) 5–7 and 92. P. Wilson (2000) 12. Parker (2005) 253–254 and 317. Pritchard (2012) 20. 372  After the treasury of the Delian League had been relocated in the middle of the fifth century, the allies brought their phoroi to Athens. The display of the silver must have impressed: About 500 men brought the silver to the orchestra in hydrai or leather bags. Cf. Isocr. or. 8.82. IG I3 68 with the relief EM 6595 from the year 426/5. Raubitschek (1941) 359. Lawton (1995) cat. no. 1. 373  No other Athenian festival had its own magistrates for the conduct of the festivities. Thus the organization of the procession on the occasion of the Great Dionysia was in the hands of the archon (eponymos) and the ten epimeletai ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3–4. Demosth. or. 23,15), while ten athlothetai were responsible for the pompe on the occasion of the Great Panathenaea ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,1–3. IG I3 378 l. 14–15). 374  Demosth. or. 4,35: “And yet, men of Athens, how do you account for the fact that the Panathenaic festival and the Dionysia are always held at the right date, whether experts or laymen are drawn by lot to manage them, that larger sums are lavished upon them than upon any one of your expeditions, […]”. Cf. Isocr. or. 7,52–53. Diod. 13,94,1–2. Plut. mor. 349a. – On the Great Dionysia see Parke (1987) 190–208. Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 57–125 and on the Panathenaea Parke (1987) 40–71. Neils (1992a). J. L. Shear (2001). 375  See Pritchard (2012) for a discussion of whether the Athenians spent more money on war or on festivals. 376  Pritchard (2012) 36. On the programme of the Olympic Games towards the end of the fourth century, see S. G. Miller (2003) and (2004) 113–129. On the duration of the Great Panathenaea, see J.  L. Shear (2001) 383–384 and Kyle (2007) 157–158.  – The preparations alone took four years: thus the tenure of the ten agonothets lasted four years. They were responsible for organizing the procession, the contests, the victory prizes, and the peplos ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,1–3). 377  While the agones on the occasion of the Great Dionysia were held exclusively in dramatic disciplines (dithyramb, tragedy and comedy), musical, gymnastic and hippic competitions also took place at the Panathenaea. See comprehensively J. L. Shear (2001) 231–385 on the various agons on the occasion of the Panathenaea – The earliest (clear) evidence (IG II2 3157) for the performance of a tragedy at the Panathenaea, on the other hand, falls into the first century AD. Cf. also Diog. Laert. 3,56. Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 56. 371

90

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

Table 2.3  Presumed precedence and sequence of the Great Dionysia around 350 according to Pickard-Cambridge (1988) Prelude 8. Elaphebolion 9. Elaphebolion Festive programme Day 1 10. Elaphebolion Day 2 Day 3–5

11. Elaphebolion 12–14. Elaphebolion

Proagon Eisagoge: Obtaining the cult statue of Dionysos Procession to the Dionysus sanctuary and Dithyramb competition: Ten boys’ and ten men’s choruses Comedy competition: Five poets with one comedy each Tragedy competition: One poet per day with a tetralogy (three tragedies and one satyr play)

Postlude 16. Elaphebolion

Assembly in the theater: Opportunity to scrutinise magistrates and bring complaints against private individuals

Table 2.4  Programme of the ten-day Great Panathenaea around 350 according to Shear (2001) Religious celebration Pompe Procession towards the Acropolis with sacrificial animals and the new robe (πέπλος) for Athena with the participation of various groups, each with specific functions and paraphernalia (caryatids, scaphephors, hydriaphors, metics of various ages and sexes, ephebess, hoplites, horsemen, apobates, musicians, magistrates, elderly citizens, delegations of apoikiai) Sacrifice Hecatomb of cattle and sheep Pannychis Nightly celebration with torch race, cyclic choruses and feast (δημοθοινία) at the Kerameikos 39 contests Gymnastic Boys and men (various running disciplines, pentathlon, wrestling and pugilism, pankration) Hippic Different disciplines with and without horse and carriage Artistic Boys and men (rhapsodists, kitharodes, flute players, kithara players, singers accompanied by flute) Various Weapon dance (πυῤῥίχη), torch run (λαμπάς), manhood and beauty contest (εὐανδρία), ship race (ἅμιλλα νεῶν)

While private individuals provided the equipment for the competing choruses and teams, the polis paid for the sacrifices, the prizes, the actors’ salaries, the equipment and installations for the processions, the subsidization of the festival attendance in the form of theorika, the material, the processing and issuing of the bronze and iron entrance tokens, and the construction and maintenance of the temples and competition sites where the dramatic, musical, and gymnastic agones were held in honor of Athena and Dionysus. The equipment of the theater and the organisation of the performances also included the stage tools378 and the work of specialists, such as a mechanopoios, a skenopoios, and a skenographos.379 In

378 379

 Taplin (1977) 434–451.  P. Wilson (2008) 94 with references in note 27.

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

91

addition, there was a need for heralds,380 trumpeters,381 security staff382 well as equipment for the competitive decisions.383 Perhaps the spectators were even given wine during the dramatic performances as the choruses moved in or out.384 Some of these expenses cannot be estimated, while others  – think of the myrtle wreaths of the processionists at the Panathenaea – are negligible. Three items, however, deserve a closer look at this point, as they illustrate the specific character of Athenian festivals: the costs for the remuneration of the actors including the victory prizes, the expenses for the animal sacrifices and the equipment of the pompai including the paraphernalia required for them. The Great Dionysia alone required some 28 tragedian, comedian and dithyramb poets, for whose remuneration and victory prizes, according to P.  Wilson, more than five talents must be estimated.385 The pay of the playwrights was publicly negotiated, with even the council involved.386 Unlike the comedy and trageic poets, the writers of the dithyrambs often came from outside of Athens, so that adequate financial compensation had to motivate them to settle here in the first place, at least for the three- to four-month period of rehearsals and for the festival itself.387 These expenses were likely financed on a private basis by the choregoi.388 However, the Athenians also awarded, at least occasionally, quite substantial dorea to dithyramb poets.389 In addition to the 28 poets of the tragedies, comedies and dithyrambs, the Great Dionysia also required 28 auletai and about 24 actors, as well as 1200 choreographers, several chorodidaskaloi and other personnel.390 The professionalization of theater and the development of a veritable star cult of in the course of the fourth century led to an increase in the remuneration of stage artists, and it was sometimes difficult to hire enough qualified actors for the Dionysia. By the late fourth century, therefore, the polis was putting out substantial sums of money, additional prizes, and honors391; individual celebrities in Athens could demand392 perhaps as much as

 Aristoph. Ach. 9–11. Lys. Frg. 6,2. Aeschin. 3,154. Demosth. or. 18,120.  Polyd. 4,88. 382  So-called rabdouchoi. P. Wilson (2008) 109 with references in note 123. 383  Isocr. or. 17,33–34. Csapo/W. Slater (1994) 157–165. P. Wilson (2000) 98–102. 384  Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 171. P. Wilson (2008) 119 note 173. 385  P. Wilson (2008) 105 with note 95. – It was no accident that Plato (resp. 568 c. Lach. 183 b) thought that tragedians were paid most by tyrants but second most by democracies. 386  Aristoph. Ran. 367–368. Schol. Ran. 367. Schol. Vesp. 660. Schol. Ekkl. 102. P.  Wilson (2000) 65. 387  P. Wilson (2008) 103–104. 388  Ibid. 104. 389  For example, Pindar, who was active in the fifth century, had received an incomparable 10,000 drachms. Isocr. or. 15, 166. Pind. Frg. 76 (M). Aristoph. Equ. 1329. Schol. Ach. 637. Schol. Nub. 299. Paus. 1,8,4. 390  P. Wilson (2008) 100. 391  High Sums: Plut. Alexander 29. Aeschin. 2,19. Poll. 4,88. – Honors: Agora 16.79 (from 332/1). See on honors Lambert (2008). 392  Plut. X orat. 848b. Gel. 11,9. Dio Chrys. or. 66,11. Csapo (2004) 56–57. 380 381

92

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

3000 drachmas a day and achieve considerable wealth.393 By way of comparison, during the less prestigious theatrical festival for Dionysus and Demetrius at Euboea in the early third century, comedy actors were paid 400 drachmas each for one of the total five performances, in addition to nine obols per diem for the total five days.394 Likewise, the auletai395 paid by the polis developed into celebrated artists396 In the aforementioned agon in the Euboean cities, for example, an aulist received 2400 drachmas for his participation.397 In addition to the μισθοί, victory prizes (athla) were offered to the professional stage performers,398 whereby the first three places were rewarded differently at least since Lycurgian times399: Thus the best tragedy actors received a prize (of unknown amount) since the middle of the fifth century, but the actors of comedies only after 320.400 At the Panathenaea, on the other hand, the victorious kitharodes at the mousikoi agones received a golden crown worth 1000 drachmas and an additional 500 drachmas in cash.401 In total, the cost of crowns and prize money at the musical agones amounted to 5200 drachmas,402 so that at least one talent must be expected for the winners in the panathenaic contests.403 In the euandria, on the other hand, shields were offered as prize, while the winners in the gymnastic contests and horse races could win several liters of olive oil – filled in quality prize amphorae.404 In total, the athlothetes at the Great Panathenaea presented about 75,768 liters of olive oil to the victorious competitors.405 At an average price of 17 drachmas, this

 For example, the tragedian Neoptolemus took over liturgies in Athens (Demosth. or. 5,6–9).  Le Guen (2001) I TE 1 l. 22 with II 71–74. 395  P. Wilson (2008) 108. – In order to maintain equality of opportunity in the competitions, the auletai were assigned to the various choruses by lot ([Plut.] de mus. 1141 d. Athens. 617 b-c). 396  [Psellos] Trag. 12. 397  Le Guen (2001) I TE 1 para 21. 398  Cf. Hesych. s. v. μισθός. On the payment of the poets, see Bremer (1991). P. Wilson (2008) 100–105. 399  For example, since Lycurgian times, the winning poets (or the choruses) at the Dionysia in Piraeus received 1000 drachmas for the first prize, 800 drachmas for the second, 600 drachmas for the third (Plut. mor. 842a). Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 90. P. Wilson (2000) 267. 400  Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 124–125. 401  P. Wilson (2008) 101. on the remuneration of actors ibid. 106–108. 402  IG II2 2311 l. 5–22. Pritchard (2012) 27. 403  Pritchard (2012) 27. 404  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60.3. See on the Panathenaic prize amphorae Johnston (1987). Neils (1992b). Johnston (2007). – Every four years the polis had to commission a huge quantity, probably close to 2100, of prize amphorae, according to J. L. Shear (2003) 102. These amphorae each held an average of 36.73 liters (i.e. approximately) eleven choes of olive oil, according to Bentz (1998) 31–40 and 200–201. The olive oil came from private landowners on whose lands the sacred trees of Athena grew ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,2 ). 405  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60.3. To the figure: 2100 amphorae holding eleven choes. If we calculate 3.28 liters per chous, as Bentz (1998) 34 and Pritchett (1956a) 182 assume, this gives 75,768 liters. By contrast, see Pritchard (2012) 25, who assumes 75,845, and Papazarkadas (2011) 271, who calculates 80,514 litre. 393 394

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

93

corresponded to a market value of about 5.5 talents406 – in addition to the approximately 3150 drachmas for the 2100 prize amphorae.407 Further, the winning choruses in the competition of the dithyrambs received bronze tripods.408 These were little elaborated and cost at least 500 drachmas each.409 Such ἆθλα could be go together with additional victory prizes of little material value: At the Dionysia, for example, the poets of the tragedies received a goat410 worth perhaps eleven drachmas411 and the comedy poets a basket of figs or wine.412 In addition, the choregoi received a crown on the occasion of a dithyrambic victory at the Dionysia. This can also be assumed for the poets, actors, choregoi, and auletai.413 Furthermore, the victory of the two successful phylai in the dithyrambos-agon was honored with a bull.414 The same was true of the dithyrambic contests and the pyrrhike performed as part of the Panathenaea. The prizes offered on this occasion in the form of cattle and other banquet food had a total value of 1200 drachmas.415 As a reward for the victorious performance, which had been preceded by time-­ consuming (and certainly conflict-ridden) rehearsals, the joint sacrifice and banquet strengthened the sense of belonging among the members of the phylai and thus among the subdivisions of the demos. Moreover, during the Dionysia and the Panathenaea, the entire civic community also formed a table community  – Max Weber would call this a symbol of fraternization416 – so that the Athenians could also become aware of their legal equality under religious auspices. The Athenians paid a considerable price for this act of commensality, slaughtering a considerable

 On prices, see Pritchett (1956a) 184. Pritchard (2012) 25–26.  At a price of one drachma and three obols each, Pritchard (2012) 27. 408  Amandry (1976). P. Wilson (2008) points out that the official recipient (phyle, choregos, chorus, poet) of the tripod remains basically unknown. 409  The cost of a tripod can be roughly estimated from the accounts of the Delian amphictyony. There (probably two) tripodes cost (more than) 1000 drachma as victory prizes of the choruses, including their production. The amount, however, has not been handed down exactly (IG II2 1635 A (a) l. 33–34 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 28 l. 33–34). Cf. also P. Wilson (2000) 206 – The tripods were not particularly elaborate and not made of precious metal, but they were erected (financed by the choregos) on a high pedestal in the center of Athens and were therefore relatively large and designed to have a long-distance effect. A tripod on the occasion of the dithyrambic contest was five metres high in the men’s class and three metres high in the boys’ class. Amandry (1976) 27. P.  Wilson (2000) 206. Their importance thus derives primarily from public perception. – See on the choragic monuments below Sect. 4.3.2. 410  Marm. Par. FGrHist 239 A39 = FGrF 1 Thespis T2. P. Wilson (2008) 102 with note 77. 411  Rosivach (1994) 98. 412  Marm. Par. FGrHist 239 A39 = Susarion PCG test. 1. Plut. mor. 527d. P. Wilson (2008) 102 with note 77. 413  Demosth. or. 21, 55 and 63. P. Wilson (2008) 102. 414  Suda s. v. ταυροφάγον. Schol. Aristoph. Ran. 357. P. Wilson (2008) 102. 415  IG II2 2311 l. 83–93. Neils (1992a) 16. Ceccarelli (2004) 94 note. 9. Pritchard (2012) 27. 416  Weber (1921) 109–110. 406 407

94

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

number of cattle for this common sacrificial meal.417 The Athenians were known for their lavish offerings to the gods,418 which did not reach such proportions anywhere else in the Greek world. For the Great Panathenaea, the hecatomb, the slaughter of 100 cattle, is certainly attested,419 so at least one talent must be estimated for the sacrifices followed by a feast.420 The sacrificial feast in the context of the Great Dionysia must have been similarly immense: Isocrates, at any rate, speaks – probably exaggerating  – of 300 oxen.421 Estimates based on dermatikon accounts422 range from 81 to 200 oxen,423 so that we can easily reckon with a hundred animals, i.e. a hecatomb as at the Great Panathenaea. Therefore, the cost of the sacrifices – after deducting the sale of the hides – can also be estimated at one talent. For the Dionysia there is also evidence of προθύματα, which served the ritual cleansing of the theater before the actual festival.424 Further costs for professional butchers and cooks (for the approximately 10–20,000 kilograms of meat!), firewood (for the pannychis), etc., totaled 50 drachmas at the Lesser Panathenaea around 335 and correspondingly more at the Megala Panathenaia and Dionysia, respectively.425 In addition, bloodless sacrifices, which can be inferred from the participation of the skaphephoroi (bowl-bearers), askophoroi (bearers of wineskins) and obeliaphoroi (bearers of loaves of bread) in the Panathenaic pompe,426 caused expenses of an unknown amount. The bloodless sacrifices cannot be separated from the paraphernalia. The obligatory cult objects were a ritual part of the procession and were stored on the  Cf. the detailed and ideal description of a bovine sacrifice in Homer (Od. 3.404–473): first the horns of the animal are gilded; the sacrificer cleanses his hands; barley flour mixed with salt (Schol. Aristoph. Equ. 1167) is sprinkled on the head of the animal; it is killed by a blow of the axe in the neck; the women raise their complaint; the throat of the animal is opened to collect the blood, and finally the animal is cut up. 418  [Xen.] Ath. pol. 2.9. Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 213. 419  J. L. Shear (2001) 167–173 with references. 420  Cattle prices varied; on average, an ox cost about 72 drachmas. Rosivach (1994) 95–96. P. Wilson (2008) 97–98. – Accordingly, a number of 100 animals can be assumed to cost about one talent and 1200 drachmas, from which about 1200 drachmas must be deducted from the sale of the animal skins, P. Wilson (2008) 98. 421  Isocr. or. 7.29. P. Wilson (2008) 97. 422  The dermatikon accounts (IG II2 1496 l. 80–81) list the proceeds from the sale of animal skins of more than 808 drachmas for the Great Dionysia of the year 334/3, although it is not possible to draw any conclusions about the animals sacrificed from this figure: First, it remains unknown what price the individual animal skins obtained, and second, perhaps not all the hides were sold. Jameson (1988) 107–112 reckons with six to seven drachmas. 423  Rosivach (1994) 69: 81 cattle. Jameson (1988) 109: 106 cattle. Wijma (2014) 77: 115 to 180 cattle. P. Wilson (2008) 97: 200 cattle. 424  The designation was inferred by P. Wilson (2008) 114 note 152 from the accounts of the amphictyony on Delos (IG II2 1635 l. 37 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 28). – The expenditure, however, was within limits: Four drachms each had to be budgeted for the (unknown number of) piglets. Suda s. v. καθάρσιον. Poll. 8,104. Schapps (1991) 208. 425  IG II2 334 l. 27–31. P. Wilson (2008) 98. 426  Wijma (2014) 77 note 49. 417

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

95

Acropolis.427 In Lycurgian times the polis also provided the κόσμος κανηφορικός consisting of ornaments and garments.428 Perhaps the processionists wore wreaths of ivy, as attested elsewhere.429 The Dionysian pompe probably included a cart with a phallos.430 The peplos was also transported on such a cart in the Panathenaic procession.431 In addition, the processional way had to be cleaned and prepared. This task was performed by the ten epimeletai drawn from the individual phyle; they were also responsible432 for an ordered course of the pompe and probably performed the προθύματα mentioned above.433 In addition, they perhaps erected a spectator stand (ikaria),434 as is attested for the Panathenaea.435 For these duties on the occasion of the Great Dionysia the “overseers” received one hundred minae,436 while Pritchard calculates about two talents for the pompe of the Great Panathenaea, including the ikaria and the peplos for Athena.437 Altogether, therefore, the Great Dionysia alone swallowed up 28 talents and 5200 drachmas, or about 30 talents annually.438 For the Panathenaea, which were celebrated every four years in a particularly lavish manner as Παναθήναια τὰ μεγάλα, on the other hand, Pritchard calculated a total of about 25 talents – without including the expenses for the sacrificial animals.439 If the cost of the Panathenaic hecatomb, amounting to about one talent, is added, the Great Panathenaea struck the  Cf. Thuc. 2,13,4: Pericles counted among the 6000 talents stored on the Acropolis on the eve of the Peloponnesian War also ἱερὰ σκεύη περί τε τὰς πομ πὰς καὶ τοὺς ἀγῶνας (“sacred vessels for the processions and games”). – On the procession at the Great Dionysia, see Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 61–63. Csapo/W. Slater (1994) 105–106 and 113–115. Spineto (2005) 217–230. 428  This was worn by the Athenian girl who walked at the beginning of the Dionysian procession. Plut. mor. 852 b. Paus. 1.29.16. IG II2 333 c l. 10 and 1496. Faraguna (1992) 371–377. P. Wilson (2008) 115 with 99 note 58. 429  For example, it is known from Eretria that all the inhabitants of the city were to wear a wreath of ivy on the occasion of a newly instituted festival celebrating the liberation from Macedonian rule and the restoration of democracy. IG XII.9, 192 l. 3–8 and 236. cf. SEG 40,758. on this, see Jaccottet (1990). – The crowning of the citizens was probably paid for out of the public treasury (IG XII.9, 192 l. 8–10; additions by Boeckh), while the metics consequently had to pay for the ivy crown themselves. Whitehead (1984) 58. Wijma (2014) 161. 430  Schol. Aristoph. Ach. 243a. See for discussion with evidence P. Wilson (2008) 99–100. On phalloi in processions Csapo (2007). 431  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60.1. J. L. Shear (2001) 173–186. 432  Demosth. or. 21.17. Suda s. v. ἐπιμεληταί. IG II2 354 l. 15–19 (from 328/7). 433  On these, see P. Wilson (2000) 24–25 and (2008) 114–115. 434  P. Wilson (2008) 115 with note 153. 435  Athen. 4,16–17. Poll. 7,125. On the spectator stand on Panathenaic Street, see Neils (1992a) 18–20. Csapo (2007) 104–105. 436  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56.4. Demosth. or. 21.15. – The money for the preparation of the procession on the occasion of the Dionysia at Piraeus came from the regular fund of the agoranomoi (IG II2 380 l. 13–17 and 19–23). P. Wilson (2008) 114 note 152. 437  Pritchard (2012) 27–28. – On the procession at the Great Panathenaea, see J. L. Shear (2001) 122–167. Parker (2005) 258–268. 438  P. Wilson (2008) 119. 439  Pritchard (2012) 32. 427

96

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

bill at about 26 talents. A comparison with Cyrene shows how extraordinary this expenditure was: for the prizes, misthoi, and perhaps also the stage machinery of the theater festival there, three talents and 2000 drachmas were made available in the fourth century, with additional private financiers as choregoi probably providing the equipment for the choruses.440 And the Great Dionysia and Great Panathenaea were by no means the only festivals on which the Athenians spent money – Athens was known to celebrate more festivals than any other polis.441 A multitude of games and public sacrifices were spread throughout the year.442 Especially towards the end of the fourth century, religious expenditure increased significantly: on the one hand, tastes became more exclusive, entailing greater expenditure, and on the other, new festivals were added. Thus in Lycurgian times the Athenians decided to add eight festivals to the cultic program.443 In all, about fifteen public festivals were celebrated under Lycurgus.444 In addition, the Athenians sent delegations to various religious events each year, of which the Olympic Games are only the best known. For an illustration of the various expenses, we may refer to the accounts of the amphictyony of Delos.445 When the architheoria left for the Apollo festival in 374, three talents and 3545 drachmas were incurred for four different items446: first, the actual travel expenses of one talent and 1000 drachmas for the trierarch who transported the theoroi and the

 SEG 9,13. P. Wilson (2008) 90 with note 9.  [Xen.] Ath. pol. 3,2. Aristoph. Nub. 307–310. Ober (2008) 195–196. 442  Thuc. 2,38,1. Lys. or. 30,19–20. Is. 9,21. Isocr. or. 7,29. 443  These included, for example, one for Eirene (IG II2 1496). – A new κωμῳδοί-competition was also added, which, as was usual for the time, saw itself as a revival of a rite that had fallen out of use. The agon of the comedy actors took place on the third day of the Anthesteria, at the festival called chytroi, and served as a preliminary for the comedy contest at the Great Dionysia ([Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus = mor. 841 f). See also below note 461. On this festival, see Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 420–422. – On the occasion of the Anthesteria, the polis also provided money for a drinking contest on the day called choes and financed the new wine and other items for the occasion (IG II2 1496). Rosivach (1994) 48–60. Pritchard (2012) 32–34. 444  They involved varying levels of expenditure, as the dermatikon accounts from the years between 334/3 and 331/0 show (IG II2 1496). 445  However, in this case the expenditures were paid from interest income of the Delian sanctuary (and not from Athenian funds). The accounts of the amphictyony on Delos (IG II2 1635 A) show in all clarity how difficult it is sometimes to separate the ownership. It is clear that the revenues of the Delian sanctuary are listed here. However, these were under Athenian control, so apparently the Athenians were also free to decide how much to allocate to the architheoria. On the separation of sacred and public property see in detail below Sect. 2.3.2. 446  IG II2 1635 A (a) l. 34–37 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 28 A (a) 34–37. 440 441

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

97

choruses.447 Secondly, one talent was provided for the architheoroi. They accompanied the 154 cattle worth one talent and 2419 drachmas to Delos. And last but not least the cost for the gilding of the cattle horns amounted to 126 drachmas.448 If one assumes that the Great Dionysia (30 talents) and the Great Panathenaea (26 talents) can be considered the two most costly events in the cult calendar, with estimated costs of around 56 talents in total, then these expenditures corresponded to the maintenance of a squadron of thirty triremes for less than two months – without taking into account the construction, repair, and equipment of the warships. If one subtracts from the 56 talents the privately borne share of about 29 talents (Dionysia: about 16 talents; Panathenaea: about 13 talents),449 then on this basis of 27 talents the religious expenditures for the festivals – without theorika and buildings  – can be roughly calculated. If one calculates that the two main festivals accounted for about one-third of the total costs, then the Athenians spent a total of about 90 talents for the benevolence of the gods450 – if the polis could afford it and

 Sometimes also festive legations were privately financed as architheoria. And. 1,132. Lys. or. 21.5. Is. Frg. 150 Tur (ἡ ἀρχιθεώρησις). Aristot. eth. nic. 4,1122 a 22–25. – In the normal case the polis came up for such architheoriai. The terms are sometimes ambiguous, since it is the leader of a delegation – and not the liturgist – who bears the designation architheoros: for example, a certain Boulagoras from Samos financed a Samian theoria, but was not himself architheoros (IG XII 6 l. 11). Probably the architheoros mentioned in [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56.3, who accompanied the choruses to Delos, was not a liturgist either, even though he is named among the choregos whom the archon had to appoint. Today it is difficult to separate which costs the polis and which the architheoros had to bear. Since in practice only such persons were effectively eligible who had the means not to conduct their own business for a longer period of time, and since these persons, moreover, were appointed (and not drawn by lot) by the archon ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3), it can be concluded that the architheoria was also connected with the expectation to subsidize the festive legion. Even if the architheoria was not a “real” liturgy, wealthy people paid for the sums provided by the polis. This became common in Hellenistic times (cf., for example, SEG 28,60). The beginnings can nevertheless be identified in the fourth century, since the connection between social pressure, legal coercion and publicly formulated gratitude, which is typical of the choregia, also shaped architheoria – it is no coincidence that the speaker of the 21st Lysian speech also enumerated the assumption of architheoria in addition to his choregia and trierarchies (Lys. or. 21,5) and in return expected the dikasts to take his financial commitment into account when passing judgement. – On theoria, see generally Rutherford (2013). On the architheoria P. Wilson (2000) 44–46. 448  IG II2 1635 A (a) l. 31–37. – Similarly, the polis paid for legations to other festivals (Theophr. char. 30,7). Even when expenses were met from the public treasury and paid by the apodektai, as for example in 323/2 (SEG 30,60 l. 38–40), it can be assumed that persons such as Demosthenes, who acted as head of the Attic delegation to the Olympic Games in 324 (Din. 1.81–82), met additional expenses out of their own pockets, as they were accustomed to do with their liturgies. 449  In this case, the number of liturgies of these two festivals accounted for about fifty-nine percent of the total liturgies. Pritchard (2012) 36. 450  Pritchard (2012) 38, who, however, offers more concrete figures: According to him, the cost of the Great Dionysia and Panathenaea was 35 talents and 881 drachmas; both festivals accounted for thirty-five percent of the annual cult calendar, so he puts the total cost at 100 talents and 2517 drachmas. 447

98

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

did not cancel sacrifices that seemed less urgent for lack of money.451 Nevertheless, the Athenians did not weigh religion against military expenditures. Neither did they refrain from military undertakings in order to offer richer sacrifices to the gods, nor did they renounce festivals to wage war. The ritual acts were not only too important from a religious point of view but also socially, culturally, and politically, as can be seen in particular in the expansion of the Theater of Dionysus, which was regarded as an extension of the Dionysion. It was not until the middle of the fourth century that the interest in investing money and effort in the redesign of the theater and the Dionysian temenos increased.452 The overall concept, which dwarfed everything that had gone before, was initiated under Eubulus between 354 and 350.453 The completion of the theater, however, fell into the Lycurgian era, so that it was above all the name of the great financial administrator that became associated with the complete redesign of the enormous theater on the southern slope of the Acropolis.454 The dimensions of the project, which comprised both theater and sanctuary, are impressive: making

 Cf. Lys. or. 30,19: “And how could a man show greater piety than mine, when I demand, first that our sacrifices be performed according to our ancestral rules, and second that they be those which tend to promote the interests of the city, and finally those which the people have decreed and which we shall be able to afford out of the public revenue?” 452  On the theater of Dionysus, see generally Pickard-Cambridge (1946). Travlos (1971) 537–552. Wurster (1979). Townsend (1982) 90–142. Polacco (1990). Kalligas (1994). Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 21–29 with 167 fig. 4 and 177 fig. 15. Knell (2000) 126–147. Isler (2002). Gogos (2008). Tozzi (2016) 48–70. – A Dionysus sanctuary and theater existed in close proximity to each other from very early times, but can only be concretely grasped in archaeological sources since the transition from the Late Archaic to the Early Classical period. The first choral songs accompanied by music and dance were certainly still performed in the agora, where a wooden, temporarily erected scaffold served as a tribune for the spectators. On this, see Pickard-Cambridge (1946) 11–15. Kolb (1981) 15–19. Knell (2000) 126–127. – Half a century later, the building structures took on more sophisticated forms. The prototypical theater from the Periclean period still consisted of a circular orchestra and could only accommodate about 3000 spectators. On the Periclean theater see Knell (1979) 77–83. 453  See for the dating of the start of construction around 350 Papastamati-von Moock (2014).  – Other religious monuments, which served for the organization of famous large events, were also renewed at this time. For example, various building measures can be traced at the sanctuary of Eleusis. At the end of the fourth century, the sanctuary received further buildings, whose purpose remains partly unclear. These included i. a. a bouleuterion (IG II2 1078 l. 42–43), another small building of undetermined function, a triangular district enclosing the cave of Pluton, the treasury (IG II2 1672 l. 300 and 302), a theater-shaped square, the house of the Kerykes, the house of the priestess, and the other sacred houses (IG II2 1672). At about the same time a temenos was created at the end of the Sacred Way, within which was probably the temple of Triptolemos (Paus. 1,38,6). The project to enlarge the Telesterion may have taken place between 370 and 360. The dating by means of the construction of two diagonal walls, however, remains uncertain; other suggestions aim at the Lycurgian period. On the sanctuary of Eleusis see Travlos (1988) 91–169. On building activity in the fourth century ibid. 95–96. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 18–21 with 166 fig. 3 and 175 fig. 13. 454  Hyp. Frg. 118 Jensen. Plut. mor. 852a–e. – It is remarkable that no inscriptional documents have survived for this massive undertaking-unlike, for example, Delos or Epidauros. See on Delos Fraisse/Moretti (2007) and on Epidauros Prignitz (2014). 451

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

99

o­ ptimal use of the terrain in a technically highly elaborate way and reducing the seat height by ten centimetres, the largest theater in Greece was created not only in the Classical or Hellenistic period but also for the Roman period.455 The labor-intensive elaborations of the koilon – the surfaces behind the seats were recessed and the seats undercut – were intended to increase seating comfort. In all, more than 6800 tons of limestone were moved and sculpted.456 Unfortunately, the master-builder remains unknown; however, it is quite likely that a highly remunerated expert was hired for this – after all, the famous architect Philon had also created the Eleusinion and the naval arsenal.457 The theater could now hold up to 17,000 visitors458 and was given an elaborate skene, whose unsightly rear wall facing the temenos of Dionysus was given a portico. The theater and sanctuary thus formed two spatially even more separated areas. This development also took place in the cult: Theatrical performances increasingly detached themselves from the religious context, so that now the re-enactment of dramas, previously practiced only in individual cases, found general acceptance.459 The play thus gained more independence and advanced to become a point of reference for cultural identification, just as the dithyrambs were no longer understood merely as cult hymns, but increasingly developed a musical life of their own when turned to literature.460 In the course of this, the theater experienced an upgrading as a monument and as a venue and advanced to become an Athenian characteristic and a symbol of the Athenian way of life. The catastrophic outcome of the Battle of Chaeronea provided the decisive impulse for this: the own past was now perceived as classical.461 In this way, the canonization of the three great tragedians was integrated into other Lycurgian measures, such as the reorganization and expansion of  Knell (2000) 136.  Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 396. 457  Vitr. 7 pr.,17. 458  Dörpfeld/Reisch (1896) 44. Knell (2000) 131. 459  Between 340 and 336, Lycurgus had collected, edited, and preserved the more than 300 tragedies of the famous three tragedians Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides for the future. The canonization of the three tragedians corresponds to the general trend, cf. for example, the poets’ contest in the Aristophanic Frogs or On the Three Tragic Poets of Heracleides Pontikos (Frg. 179 Wehrli). – Moreover, on the initiative of Lycurgus, the assembly decided to erect bronze statues of the tragic triad ([Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus = mor. 841 f): “He [Lycurgus] also introduced laws: on the one hand, that concerning the comedy actors, that an agon be held in the theater at the festival of the chytroi [the 3rd day of the Anthesteria], and that the winner be written up at the Great Dionysia, which was not allowed before. And so he re-established an agon which had disappeared; on the other hand, that (law) that bronze statues of the poets – those of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides – should be erected, that their tragedies should be preserved written down for the general public, and that the city’s grammateus should compare the text with the actors; that it should not be permitted to present them [the tragedies] differently.” Cf. also Paus. 1,21,1–2. On the statues, see Fittschen (1995). Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 29–31. Knell (2000) 139–144. Papastamati-von Moock (2007). 460  On the development of dithyrambs in the fourth century, see B. Zimmermann (2008) summarizing 137–144 and on tragedy as a cultural identifier Flashar (1984) 5. 461  See, for example, Hintzen-Bohlen (1996) on the turn towards the past considered classical in post-Chaeronean Athens. 455 456

100

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

the festivals.462 At the same time, the theater gradually replaced the Pnyx in its function as a regular place of the assembly; as early as the mid-fourth century, occasional assemblies were held here,463 until in later times only elections were held on the Pnyx.464 The socio-political significance of the theater as a meeting place for the citizens is also reflected in all its facets in the fact that it was here that the ephebes were presented with their weapons,465 honors for services to the polis were proclaimed,466 and citizens received the entrance fee as theorika.467 Also, the emotional plays468 were ritually framed by other rites that strengthened the sense of community, such as the sacrificial meal and procession, so that the subjectively felt and emotionally anchored togetherness made the theater a focal point of communalization in Weber’s sense.469 In addition to the religious aspect, the experience of the common consensus470 in combination with the feeling of being the cultural centre of the world could compensate for negative experiences in other areas of life, positively shape the fundamental attitude towards the polis and stabilize the community.

2.3.2 Between demosion and hieron: Revenues from Sacred Property Just as the meaning of Athenian festivals was not one-dimensionally limited to religious significance, the question of who administered and controlled sanctuaries is not only highly revealing for the religious understanding of the respective society, but it also has socio-political implications. In this regard, scholars are divided on the question of ownership: how strict was the division between ἴδιον, δημόσιον (or κοινόν) and ἱερόν? Or to put it another way: Did the Athenians treat the revenue from sacred property as public revenue? Two opposition points of view may be

 The famous inscription, written in the 340s but presenting itself as a victor’s list ab initio (IG II2 2318), certainly belongs in this context. See on this Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 101–107. 463  IG II2 140 l. 4 (353/2). In Hellenistic and Roman times the ekklesia usually met in the theater, as attested by the assembly resolutions, the last of which is dated A.D. 40–42 (IG IV2 84). See the tables listing the epigraphic testimonies (differentiated according to the various formulations ἐκκλησία ἐν Διονύσου, ἐκκλησία ἐν τῶι θεάτρωι, and the like) in Tozzi (2016) 187, 190–193, and 205–230, and the graphics depicting the chronological distributions on pages 189 and 204. 464  Poll. 8,132. See on the Theater  of Dionysus as a meeting place of the assembly  McDonald (1943) 56–61. Kolb (1981) 92–96. Tozzi (2016). 465  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42.4. 466  See Sect. 5.3 below. 467  See Sect. 2.2.1 above. 468  Cf. the cathartic effect of tragedy by evoking eleos and phobos Aristot. poet. 1449 b 26. 469  Weber (1922b) 21: “A social relationship will be called “communal” (Vergemeinschaftung) if and so far as the orientation of social action […] is based on a subjective feeling of the parties, whether affectual or traditional, that they belong together.” 470  Tönnies (1887) 22–23. 462

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

101

reconized in this regard471: While Finley, Harrison, Vial, Osborne, and Migeotte distinguished between public and private property alone and considered the property of the gods as part of the public domain, Lewis, Isager, Maffi, Ampolo, Horster, Dignas, Papazarkades and Dreher, and more recently also Migeotte,472 assumed a tripartite division into private, public and sacral.473 Both positions can refer to Aristotle, for whom both differentiations seemed meaningful in different contexts.474 It is indisputable that the gods are mentioned as owners of immovable and movable property. Thus the inscriptions – especially horoi – speak a clear language475 and identify the gods (often in the genitive case) as owners of temples and τεμένη as well as plots of land, waters, groves, and other real estates.476 In particular, votive

 See the research overview in Horster (2004) 9–11.  Finley (1952) 95. A.  R. W.  Harrison (1968–1971) I 235. Vial (1984) 276–277. R.  Osborne (1988). Migeotte (1998) and (2006). Rousset (2013). 473  D.  M. Lewis (1990). Isager (1992). Maffi (1997). Ampolo (2000). Horster (2004). Dignas (2002). Papazarkadas (2011). Dreher (2014). Migeotte (2014a) and (2014b). 474  Tripartite division (after Hippodamus of Miletus): Aristot. pol. 1267 b 33–34. Bipartite division: Aristot. pol. 1330 a 9–13. 475  The horoi of sanctuaries are collected by Lalonde (1991) 22–27 (H 1-H 24). On the horoi from Athens and Attica see Ritchie (1984). 476  In one and the same sanctuary several gods could also have an altar, a cult statue and a building, i.e. they could share possessions. The common property of different deities was even collected in common stocks in Athens. Horster (2004) 77. Papazarkadas (2011) 25. 471 472

102

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

offerings in any form,477 as well as fines for religious478 or political479 offenses, became the property of the gods. The sanctuaries also levied fees (τέλη) for certain services. For example, from the early fifth century onwards, they demanded levies480 for initiation into the Eleusinian mysteries or demanded cult fees for entry into sanctuaries of healing gods such as Asclepius in Athens481 or Amphiaraus at Oropos.482 However, the aparchai for the Eleusinian goddesses Demeter and Persephone were of special political significance for Athens’ self-image as a cult

 In this context, the phialai inscriptions dating from the 330s and 320s deserve special attention, for which E. A. Meyer (2010) has proposed a completely new interpretation. She assumes that these were enforced dedications resulting from a losing court case against metics. The losing party, which had brought a lawsuit for failure to pay the metoikion, was supposed to dedicate a silver phiale worth 100 drachmas, which was equivalent to a fine of 1000 drachmas. This practice fits well into the historical context in two ways: On the one hand, inferior choregoi were also to dedicate phialai, and on the other hand, it was obviously intended to strengthen the position of the metics within society – as Xenophon had already advocated in his Poroi and which was equally served by the contemporaneous development of honors for non-Athenians. See Adak (2003) 195–249 for a fundamental discussion of the honoring of metics. 478  Under Phokion a particularly serious case had occurred, which was punished with almost 16.5 talents: Demades, as choregos, had engaged a hundred men without Athenian citizenship and paid a fine of 1000 drachmas for each (Plut. Phokion 30,2–3). On the law which forbade non-Athenians to take an active part in certain festivals, see Demosth. or. 21,56. P. Wilson (2000) 80–81. – An accuser who falsely claimed that a choregos had admitted a non-Athenian to the chorus could also be fined (Demosth. or. 21,8; 10; 175; 178–179). – More commonplace were certainly the accusations that a person had unjustly obtained the theorikon, upon which the fine of one talent was suspended (Hypereid. 5,6. Dein. 1,56). 479  Thus prytaneis who failed to convene a meeting of the  assembly were required to pay 1000 drachmas, and prohedroi who failed to present a matter for deliberation were required to pay 40 drachmas into Athena’s treasury (Demosth. or. 24,22). An archon who neglected to marry an epikleros discharged 1000 drachmas to Hera (Demosth. or. 43,54). On the other hand, a man who introduced another, previously rejected man, into the phratry had to pay 100 drachmas, while the rejected one had to hand over 1000 drachmas to Zeus Phratrios after an unsuccessful appeal (IG II2 1237 l. 22–26 and 38–42 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 5). 480  IG I3 6. Thus, towards the end of the fifth century (408/7), those who were initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries had to pay two drachmas (IG I3 386 l. 145), whereas eighty years later (328/7) they had to pay fifteen drachmas (IG II2 1672). On this, see Clinton (1974) 10–13 and (1980). On cult fees generally, see Horster (2004) 206–208. Jim (2014) 250–254. 481  Pilgrims to the Asklepieion had to pay a drachma. Aleshire (1989) 99 on Meritt (1936) no. 10 col. IV l. 142–150. 482  The monetary fee (eparche) in the Amphiareion was initially (between 402 and 387) at least one boeotian drachma, later nine obols of indeterminate coinage (SEG 31,415 and 416). On the sanctuary at Oropos see Roesch (1984). 477

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

103

founder.483 Although there were modifications, the procedure484 remained approximately the same in the fourth century: the hieropoioi received the grain, weighed it, and had it stored.485 The aparchai were sold and sacrifices and anathemata were financed from the proceeds.486 Similarly, the sale of animal skins, as published in the dermatikon directory for various hiera, generated487 proceeds that were certainly in turn used to purchase sacrificial animals. In addition, a common method for the fourth century was the leasing of temene for ten years, which made the available income calculable in the long term.488 For example, in the Lycurgian period, it was possible to use the Panathenaic stadium as pasture land for a fee489; the resulting income contributed to the financing of the Panathenaea just like, for example, the simultaneous rental income from the area designated as ἡ Νέα was intended to serve the purchase of cattle.490 Such cases correspond to the ideal type as described by Harpocration (referring to Didymos): The deity owns lands, which it cedes in exchange for payment to finance sacrifices, infrastructure, and paraphernalia.491 The tenant had to surrender a tenth of the proceeds annually for sacrifices and to keep the temple (or temple land) in good

 The legitimation of the first fruits sacrifice was based on the narrative that Demeter brought the grain to Eleusis, from where Triptolemus distributed it to the world. On the myth and its political implications, see Smarczyk (1990) 216–224. Osmers (2013) 280–288. Jim (2014) 203–249.  – First-fruits offerings are attested for the period around 430 and consisted of 12/100 of Attica’s wheat harvest and 6/100 of its barley harvest, the members of the Delian League and those Greeks who wished to contribute out of political expediency and/or religious conviction (IG I3 78 = I2 76 = SIG3 83 = IEleusis 28 = Tod (1968) II no. 74 = HGIÜ 123). See on this inscription also above Sect. 2.2.2 – Even after the end of the Peloponnesian War many poleis felt it their duty to deliver aparchai. In 380, Isocrates (or. 4,31) could claim that almost all cities sent aparchai to Eleusis. If they failed to do so, Pythia exhorted them to follow the custom. 484  An inscription (IG II2 140) from the middle of the fourth century (353/2) testifies to various modifications of the procedure, which also make other, not surviving changes probable. On this inscription, see Alessandrì (1980). 485  On the Eleusinian magistrates see Clinton (1974).  – For this purpose three new siroi were erected. On these see Noack (1927) 189–193 with fig. 76. Mee/Spawforth (2001) 137–138. 486  IG I3 78 l. 36–44. 487  IG II2 1496. 488  Harpocr. s. v. ἀπὸ μισθωμάτων. Aristot. pol. 1267b. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47,2–4. Xen. an. 5,3,7–13. Isocr. or. 7,29–30. IG II2 334. seg. 18,13 and 52,92. Agora 19 L7 (A,B 41–50). On the leasing of sacred land, see generally R. Osborne (1988) 281–304. Horster (2004) 139–191, specifically on Athens ibid. 147–164, who stresses that this method of cult financing did not become established until the fourth century. 489  IG II2 1035 l. 50. 490  IG II3 447 with SEG 18,13 (approx. 335–330). For the identification of the territory see Horster (2004) 153–155 and the literature cited in SEG 39,88. – Also dating to Lycurgian times are the leases of Athena Polias’ property documented in the agora. M. B. Walbank (1991) L 6, L 9–12, L 14 and 15. 491  Harpocr. s. v. ἀπὸ μισθωμάτων. Isocr. or. 7,29–30. Ampolo (2000) 16. Dignas (2000) 118. Papazarkadas (2011) 76. 483

104

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

repair.492 However, not every deity had leasable land. For example, there is no evidence that Dionysus Eleutherios had land493 – the very deity in whose honor one of Athens’ most elaborate festivals was held did not use any of the traditional means of financing the cult. One solution, however, which did not seem practicable until Lycurgian times, was for those choregoi who had not won a place at the dithyrambic agon during the Dionysia and (probably also) at the tragedy contests of Lenaia494 to consecrate silver phialai worth fifty drachmas each.495 Accordingly, the gods owned land and sources of income that served to finance their cult. However, Greek religion was characterized by the fact that divine ownership was not necessarily followed by the inviolability of the goods designated as hiera; there were no taboos against making the sacred property accessible to the civic community. While in some cultures land dedicated to the deity remained inalienable, in the Greek realm sale did occur.496 Apparently, only unwritten law prevented people from selling sacred property on a large scale; the very fact that the possibility was considered and enacted, even if only occasionally in certain financial emergencies, attests to the fact that property dedicated to deities was not considered untouchable.497 The same is true of mobile offerings of consecration.498 Even if such objects were to become the permanent property of the deity,499 it was actually possible from the late fourth century onwards for Greek poleis in situations they perceived as emergencies to pledge consecrations, which were then

 Of these details we are informed by the foundation of Xenophon, to whom Artemis Ephesia had dedicated a sanctuary with a plot at Skillous (Xen. an. 5,3,6–13). In the passage he reproduces an inscription (Xen. an. 5,3,13) which regulates the details: ἱερὸς ὁ χῶρος τῆς Ἀρτέμιδος. τὸν ἔχοντα καὶ καρπούμενον τὴν μὲν δεκάτην καταθύειν ἑκάστου ἔτους. ἐκ δὲ τοῦ περιττοῦ τὸν ἐπισκευάζειν. ἂν δὲ τις μὴ ποιῇ ταῦτα τῇ θεῷ μελήσει. “The place is sacred to Artemis. He who holds it and enjoys its fruits must offer the tithe every year in sacrifice, and from the remainder must keep the temple in repair. If any one leaves these things undone, the goddess will look to it.” Horster (2004) 177–178. Jim (2014) 185–186. – Similarly, Nicias at Delos had consecrated land to Apollo (Plut. Nicias 3:6). Cf. also Horster (2004) 142. Dreher (2014) 7. 493  P. Wilson (2008) 110. 494  Ibid. 111. 495  Faraguna (1992) 370–371. Summa (2003). P. Wilson (2008) 111. 496  Thus, the second book of the pseudo-Aristotelian Oeconomica ([Aristot.] oec. 2,2,3a) tells of how the Byzantines had sold τεμένη δημόσια that yielded no revenue. See on the passage Migeotte (2006). Zoepffel (2006) 574–579. Rousset (2013) 123. Papazarkadas (2011) 264. Dreher (2014) 9. Migeotte (2014b) 291. – Moreover, under Lycurgus, uncultivated land, some of which was in the hands of cult groups, was privatized. For example, on stele 3 of the so-called rationes centesimarum (IG II2 1596 a l. 5 and 1600 l. 2). On the dating, see Lambert (1997) 3. On the rationes centesimarum, see the literature cited in note 113  in Sect. 5.2 below.  – The third record (SEG 38,658) also attests the sale of temene of various deities and heroes. On this, see Ducrey (1988). Rousset (2013) 123. Migeotte (2014b) 287–290. 497  Migeotte (1984) 393–396. (2006) 237. Rousset (2013) 123–124. 498  Dreher (2014) 12–14. 499  For this reason, before undergoing the euthyna, an official was not allowed to leave the country, nor “to consecrate his property, or to make a votive offering” (Aeschin. 3,21). Isager (1992) 184. Horster (2004) 90. 492

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

105

occasionally at the creditor’s disposal500 – a practice that went one step further than the loans taken from the gods, which were expected to be repaid in principle.501 A highly significant example of the inviolability of the hiera, and thus of the sociopolitical dimension of the revenue from sacred property, comes from Athens, also belongs to the fourth century, and touches on a myth fundamental for Athenian identity. Just as Demeter had brought the grain to the Athenians, Athena had entrusted them with the olive. At the Panathenaea, the victors in the various agons received oil in special prize amphorae. At first, the oil came solely from those olive trees scattered all over Attica502 which were considered offshoots of the first tree planted by the goddess on the Acropolis.503 The owners of such μορίαι had to deliver the oil extracted from them to the polis.504 In the 380s this method of delivery was modified,505 perhaps because the ancient trees could no longer meet the increased demand and/or to simplify the procedure. In any case, in Aristotelian times, a fixed levy per tree was collected from those on whose land the sacred olives grew.506 The quantities obtained were considerable: from the number and size of the prize amphorae it can be calculated that at the Great Panathenaea the athlothetes presented the victorious competitors with a total of about 75,800 liters of

 CIG 2058 = Syll.3 495 = Migeotte (1984) no. 44 (Olbia). Syll.3 953 = TCal 79= Migeotte (1984) no. 59 (Kalymna). Both attestations are again relatively late and date from around 300 and the third/early second century respectively. 501  Thuc. 2,13,3–5: “This did not include the uncoined gold and silver in public and private offerings, the sacred vessels for the processions and games, the Median spoils, and similar resources to the amount of five hundred talents. To this he added the treasures of the other temples. These were by no means inconsiderable, and might fairly be used. Nay, if they were ever absolutely driven to it, they might take even the gold ornaments of Athena herself; for the statue contained forty talents of pure gold and it was all removable. This might be used for self-preservation, and must every penny of it be restored.” Cf. IG I3 369 (= Meiggs/Lewis (1969) no. 58): Accounts (from 426/5 to 423/2) of the logistai, which recorded the borrowings from the treasury of Athena, Nike and Hermes. On this, see Giovannini (1990) and (1997). Samons (2000) 209–210. 502  Lys. or. 7,7; 24–25; 29. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,1. On the moriai see generally Papazarkadas (2011) 260–284. 503  Cf. for example Eur. Troian. 802. Pind. Nemea 10,33–37. J. L. Shear (2001) 405 and (2003) 98. 504  For this purpose the polis leased the right of collection. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,2. Lys. or. 7,2. Fink (1963). Rhodes (1985a) 672–674. J. L. Shear (2003) 96–102. 505  On the dating of the reform of the Panathenaea in the 380s, see J.  L. Shear (2001) 407 and (2003) 103. 506  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,2: “The oil is procured from the sacred trees; and the Archon levies it from the owners of the farms in which the trees are, three quarters of a pint from each trunk. Formerly the state used to sell the fruit, and anybody who dug up or cut down a sacred olive-tree was tried by the Council of Areopagus, and if found guilty punished with death; but ever since the olive-oil has been provided as rent by the owner of the farm, though the law still stands, the trial has gone out; and the state’s claim to the oil is calculated on the estate and not on the number of trees.” – The levy of 1.5 cotyles per tree was equivalent to 0.41 liters, which was roughly a tenth of the oil yield per plant. Bentz (1998) 117 note 619. Foxhall (2007) 117–118. 500

106

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

olive oil, which now came from both sacred and profane trees.507 Accordingly, there was no strict separation of divine and private property; rather, it was preferred to simplify the mode of giving and not to attach any supernatural significance to the oil – even if the damage to the sacred olive trees was a sacrilege, which, however, was significantly punished in a secular court case before the Areopagus (and not by religious specialists).508 From this we can conclude that two categories of divine property are to be assumed: on the one hand, sacred and inalienable property; a naos could not be sold because the deity manifested itself here. Second, there was a property that was appropriated to the deity but not inalienable. The latter category included land that was leased out and the income from which was used for cultic purposes. The decisive criterion as to whether an object was considered alienable or sacred was whether it performed a direct ritual function: Was the rite perfectly performable and the understanding with the deity assured, even if the object or property was converted into money? If the answer was positive, then the religious understanding of the Athenians proved to be relatively flexible; the worship of the gods and not of objects was decisive.509 According to this, certain mobile and immobile goods in the divine possession did not possess an inviolable sanctity and could therefore be used for political affairs. This opened the way for pragmatic handling of the money of the gods, without at the same time completely abandoning the separation between the property of the gods and the property of the human community. Thus private individuals or poleis borrowed from the gods.510 In Athens and Delos, such loans were subject to interest511 and were limited in time.512 However, the borrowed property of the deities

 [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,3. See the calculation above Sect. 2.3.1 note 406. If the figure is correct, then this quantity corresponds roughly to two three-axled trucks! If one converts this to the annual yield and the quantity of three half cotyles (= 0.41 liters) per tree given by Pseudo-Aristotle (Ath. pol. 60,2 ), there were 46,200 sacred olive trees in Attic territory. Cf. on the other hand Papazarkadas (2011) 271, who assumes 198,800 trees. However, in the Great Panathenaea the yields of four years are distributed, so that the total number must be divided by four again, so that his calculation also corresponds to about 49,700 trees. 508  The speaker of the seventh Lysian oration had to defend himself before the Areopagus in 397/6 (or shortly thereafter) against the accusation of having damaged or uprooted the moriai on his property. The punishment was banishment and confiscation of property (Lys. or. 7, 3 and 32). See Horster (2004) 117–118 with note 75. 509  Similarly, Dreher (2014) 10–11 distinguishes spatial-functionally between the core and outer realms of divine possession. – This finding is consistent with the word-field study of Rudhardt, who analyzed the terms ἅγιος/ἁγνός, ὅσιος, and ἱερός. In doing so, he concluded that hieros denoted two categories of sacredness: on the one hand, things that were sacred in themselves and therefore inviolable; on the other, things that belonged to a deity and were therefore considered ἱερός but were not tabooed. Such hiera, which included the τεμένη and the income from their lease, can be included in the second category. Rudhardt (1992) 22–30 (ἱερός), 30–36 (ὅσιος) and 38–43 (ἅγιος/ἁγνός). 510  Thuc. 2,13, 3–5. See on the loans Davies (2004). Horster (2004) 197–200. Dreher (2014) 15–16. 511  Dreher (2014) 16. On Lokroi, where neither interest nor security was taken, Costabile (1992) 168–169. 512  Migeotte (1984) 357. 507

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

107

was not always fully reimbursed and the collection of interest was not pursued consistently, which gave the appearance of free disposal over the economic resources of sanctuaries.513 This was also contributed by the fact that the political community itself determined the interest rate and the time of repayment.514 Human and divine spheres often overlapped in this area. Just as public surpluses were stored as paraphernalia on the Acropolis,515 the polis community had access to the divine property if necessary. Accordingly, Androtion had also reorganized the temple treasures and had various ancient dedications melted down in order to make them more easily accessible as financial reserves.516 Accordingly, revenues from religious property could also increase the resource stock of the polis and benefit non-religious purposes. The pragmatic handling of religious property was accompanied by a commingling of revenue, which can be witnessed in several areas. As a rule, fines went to the sanctuary, but sometimes the polis also received a share.517 In the case of confiscations, the procedure was exactly the opposite: the property went to the political community, the gods usually received a tenth of the proceeds of the sale.518 Generally, it is often not possible to determine in which fund the sale of confiscated property finally ended up. The nature of the crime was of no significance.519 Similarly, surpluses from the sale of the Eleusinian aparchai ended up in the treasury. The crucial point here is not that the surpluses were small, but that revenue was diverted at all.520 Much more complex was the theater economy that unfolded in the fourth century, especially in Lycurgian times. The theater was considered an annex of the Dionysion, so that theoretically the entrance fees to the plays would go directly to  For Delos see Linders (1992) 11. Dreher (2014) 16. – Pointedly formulated it Davies (2004) 126: “In the fourth century as in the fifth, a city could not run a serious navy without taking a coldly instrumental attitude towards the assets of its gods.” 514  Aptly D. M. Lewis (1990) 259: “Although the Athenians drew their distinction between demosia and hiera, even going to the lengths of charging themselves interest when they borrowed from Athena, I do not think that we can rationally support their attitude. It was they themselves, after all, who decided that Athena was going to make a loan.” – See also IG I3 369 (= Meiggs/Lewis (1969) no. 58): accounts of loans (from the years 426/5 to 423/2). The interest rate quoted there was just over 1.5%, in contrast to the interest rate of over seven percent in previous years. Accordingly, the ekklesia had decided to lower the interest rate in 426/5 Meiggs/Lewis (1969) 215. On Lokroi, see Costabile (1992) 168. 515  See also Sect. 5.2 below. 516  Demosth. or. 22,69–78. On him see Rhodes/Osborne (2007) 250–251  in the commentary on no. 51. 517  Horster (2004) 130 and 178. – Cf. also the revenues from the Delian port, which benefited both the sanctuary and the polis. Linders (1992) 10. 518  Horster (2004) 87 with evidence in note 84. In certain cases the treasury of the other gods also received a share, perhaps amounting to two percent, as Demosthenes (or. 24,120) suggests. – Cf. on the different variants in dealing with confiscated property Asheri (1966) 45–51. 519  Horster (2004) 82. 520  Cf. IG I3 391 = IG I2 311: in the year 421/20 six drachmas, in the year 420/19 31 drachmas went into the Athenian treasury. In contrast, IG I3 386 (408/7) and 387 (407/6) probably record the total treasury. 513

108

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

the god. In fact, however, the income from theater attendance flowed into the pockets of private theatropolai or theatronai, who each year purchased by auction from the polis the right to demand two obols per day from each visitor.521 With the expansion of the theater, the practice changed radically. The architekton, a municipal official initially charged with supervising the construction of the new theater building,522 organized the sale of tickets from 346 onwards.523 From then on, entrance fees probably went into the theoric fund, from which payment for Athenian citizens was partly disbursed.524 Accordingly, the separation of public and religious revenues was not always strictly carried out. This phenomenon is also reflected in phrases such as ἡ ἱερὰ καὶ δημοσία χώρα (or γή), which make it clear that sacred land could also be counted as public land.525 At the same time, in both the profane and religious spheres, the methods and the economic guiding principles behind them correlated. Therefore, the inscription form used, for example, in the leasing of sacred and public land was also identical.526 The parallel between the Eleusinian aparchai and the grain tax from the cleruchies is particularly striking527: both times it was a question of taxes in kind, which served as a wheat and barley reserve. The sale at a price set by the ekklesia

 P. Wilson (2008) 92 with note 19. The entrance fee oftwo obols is attested in Demosthenes (or. 18,28). – The same practice is attested in the fourth century for the Dionysia at Piraeus, bringing in 3000 drachmas (SEG 33,143). See Csapo (2007). 522  Csapo (2007) 108–115. 523  Demosth. or. 18,28. Aeschin. 2,55. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 396. 524  At a price of two obols per day and with about 16,000 spectators during the five-day Great Dionysia, the entrance fees generated about 4.5 talents. In contrast, see P. Wilson (2008) 93, who assumes annual revenues from entrance fees of three talents and 2000 drachmas: two obols per day for five days and about 12,000 spectators. – Perhaps entrance fees were even raised in the late fourth century, so that within ten years the cost of permanent construction may have been recovered. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 396. – It was precisely the professionalization of theater with famous and sought-after actors, around whom a veritable star cult developed, that was promoted and harnessed by adding further festivals and agons to the religious programme. Lykurgus, for example, introduced an additional competition of comic actors on the last day of the Anthesteria, which formed a preliminary selection for the Great Dionysia celebrated a month later ([Plut.] X orat. Lykurgus = mor. 841  f.).  – Lykurgus’ aim in taking this measure was perhaps to establish the Anthesteria as an attunement for the larger festival, and thus to keep visitors in the city. On this festival, see Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 420–422. 525  Rousset (2013), in particular, makes a strong case for this aspect. 526  The lease deeds of the lands of Athena Polias and the other gods did not differ in anything from those of public lands (SEG 33,167–171). On the land ownership of Athena Polias and the other gods, see Papazarkadas (2011) 18–30. – If the inscriptions do not name the beneficiary expessis verbis, the assignment must often be made via the respective context, which is often impossible, especially in the case of fines and confiscations. Also significant in this context are the rationes centesimarum, which list the one percent levy (ἡκατοστή) of the sale price of public (and in some cases sacred) property. The very use of the term hekatoste instead of the otherwise common eponia, and the placement of the inscriptions on the Acropolis instead of the agora, make it likely that the sales tax of one hundredth noted here went into the coffers of Athena and the other gods. For a discussion of hekatostai as distinct from ἐπώνια, see Lambert (1997) 269–276. 527  Thus also Stroud (1998) 109–110. Jim (2014) 211–212. 521

2.3  The Polis as a Cult Community

109

benefited all inhabitants and eased the grain market. The only difference was that the proceeds of the sale of the aparchai went to the maintenance of the Eleusinian cult and those of the clerical grain went into the military coffers. The handling of the revenue from the sacred property was thus identical with that of the other public revenues. The fact that much in this area appears so ambiguous is therefore significant: although there was a separation of private, divine, and common property, the Athenians were not so principled that they would not have suspended this differentiation if necessary.528 Especially under Lykurgus, the Athenians dealt flexibly and pragmatically with the divine sphere. That this was not so much accompanied by a process of secularization is evident from Lykurgus’ religious program. Rather, the changed religious understanding extended to a more consistent interlocking of the sacred, political, and financial levels – without completely merging the levels. In practice, however, the differentiation between public and divine property made little difference: the property of the gods may not have increased the Athenians’ stock of resources, but it nevertheless considerably broadened their space for financial manoeuvre,529 so that the income from sacral property was treated not as public but like public revenue. Therefore, it was consistent to simplify the administration of religious funds by merging the two treasuries of Athena Polias and the other gods, which had been run separately until then, around 343,530 thus creating a third major fund alongside the stratiotika and theorika. A possible justification may have been based on the belief that the deity would also try to protect the polis with financial support if necessary.531 However, it is doubtful that the Athenians even looked for a legitimizing argumentation – after all, the decisive characteristic was that religion, like any other communal task, was also a matter of all citizens. Unlike, for example, “temple states” in Asia Minor, where priestly castes combined both sacred and secular authority,532 in Athens communication with the gods was in the hands of annually changing magistrates.533 Routine religious tasks, such as the obligatory ritual purification sacrifice before the  Pragmatism was deeply rooted in religious understanding. A regulation from Cyrene from the end of the fourth century is significant: It was forbidden to cut down trees and branches in the sanctuary, but if it happened, then the wood could be used against payment (LSS 155 a l. 8–10). 529  The leasing of sacred property represented about 1.5–2% in relation to Athens’ total revenue. Papazarkadas (2011) 93–94. 530  On dating, see Papazarkadas (2011) 30 with further references in note 67. 531  Dreher (2014) 22–23. 532  See on temple dominions and temple domains in Asia Minor Debord (1982) 128–133. Boffo (1985) 15–79. Debord (1997). 533  Even if priestly offices, e.g. those for the performance of the Eleusinian mysteries, were sometimes hereditary in certain families, neither political power nor a theologically founded monopoly on action arose from them; they were archaic remnants and ultimately democratic concessions to the old nobility, which, however, had no political effects. Lycurgus was one of the few members of a priestly genus who attained political influence. He was descended from the venerable family of the Ἐτεοβουτάδαι, who traced themselves to the brother of Erechtheus, Boutes, who is said to have been the first to exercise the priesthood of Poseidon Erechtheus. Parker (1996) 242. 528

110

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

beginning of the assembly, could in principle be performed by any citizen; the practical knowledge required for this was acquired through participation in polis religion as part of socialization.534 Only public officials administered the money and property, while not a single case is known that names a priest as responsible.535 Religious knowledge did not constitute an arcanum, did not require theological training, and therefore could not be monopolized. Moreover, no religious taboos prevented the common practice of cult. The polis community became a cult community of such intensity as it was only achieved again in the Christian Middle Ages.

2.4 The Polis as a Military Community The decisive factor why, according to Max Weber, the “occidental city” could develop in Greece – in contrast to the “Orient” – was the independence of the aristocracy vis-à-vis the monarch, based on its military importance. The self-­government of the polities, therefore, formed the core of the self-governing civic community.536 Political rights and the duty to defend the polis formed two sides of the same coin: the citizens formed a military community the cohesion of which was strengthened by collective experiences of war. War thus had a self-reinforcing dynamic. This does not mean that military undertakings were generally viewed positively: After the Social War, politicians such as Eubulus advised a more defensive approach to foreign policy than had been the case in the first half of the fourth century.537 However, the change of strategy was not based on a rejection of war as such,538 but on the insight that an imperial objective promised more costs than benefits.539 As long as the high expenses could not be passed on to allies and inferiors, much money  See on the purification sacrifice Nilsson (1967) 94–97.  Horster (2004) 190 – For example, three different magistrates or colleges of magistrates were involved in the collection, storage and distribution of the olive oil that was offered as a prize in the gymnic and hippic agons at the Panathenaea: The archon had the oil collected and handed it to the tamiai. These gave it to the athlothetes at the Panathenaea, that they might present the oil to the victorious athletes ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 60,3). See on the tamiai, the ten publicly appointed treasurers of Athena, who administered the property of the city goddess, i.e. the funds of the Athena sanctuary, together with the statue of the goddess, Nike statues and other votive offerings, also [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47,1. Rhodes (1985a) 549–550. 536  Weber (1921) 82; 144–145; 152; 188; 215. 537  On Eubulos see the literature cited above in Sect. 2.2.1 note 196. 538  Neither in Athens nor elsewhere did a form of pacifism emerge. Although there were rudiments in Greek antiquity, this could only emerge under the conditions of modernity, according to Brücher (2008) 7. Cf. for example on the critical view of war Pindar (Frg. 110: γλυκὺ δὲ πόλεμος ἀπείροισιν, ἐμπείρων δέ τις ταρβεῖ προσιόντα νιν καρδίᾳ περισσῶς. “Sweet is war to the inexperienced, but an experienced man fears in his heart beyond measure his approach.”), the Aristophanic comedies Eirene or Lysistrate, and the Aristotelian justification of war (Aristot. eth. Nic. 1177b). 539  Similarly to Isocrates (or. 8,19), Xenophon (vect. 3,8) also recognized, “I am also aware that large expenditure is frequently incurred to send warships abroad, though none can tell whether the venture will be for better or worse, and the only thing certain is that the subscribers will never see their money back nor even enjoy any part of what they contribute.” Cf. also Xen. vect. 1,1. 534 535

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

111

had to be invested in the hope that the financial effort would eventually pay off in some tangible or intangible way. If Athens imposed military self-restraint on itself, it was initially for fundamental financial reasons: “War is not a matter of arms, but of the money that gives arms their usefulness.”540

2.4.1 The Army: Citizen Hoplites, Mercenaries, and a Not-­So-Elite Cavalry Put pointedly: money is a weapon.541 This rule applies all the more to the fourth century, which saw a military revolution: expansive, continuous military operations were the rule, mercenaries were used on a large scale in addition to citizen armies, cavalry was upgraded, and costly technical innovations promised decisive advantages.542 From about 330, for example, Athens had catapults,543 tetreres, and penteres built.544 Financial considerations, therefore, played a decisive role in the discussion about war or peace. Particularly revealing of how speakers promoted military action and introduced factual arguments into a value-oriented debate is the first speech against Philip II, which Demosthenes delivered as early as 351, three years after the end of the Social War. In his argumentation for the Athenians to immediately confront the Macedonian king, the speaker included very concrete proposals for the deployment of troops and – an exception in the surviving speeches545 – a list of financing requirements. Demosthenes calculated the provisioning of the force for one year at a total of 92 talents, of which he estimated 40 talents for the trireme crews, 40 talents for the foot soldiers, and 12 talents for horsemen.546 The supposedly objective facts were intended to support his subjective assessment of the danger from the north547; the figures develop a suggestive power of their own and can be used as a rhetorical  Thuc. 1,83,2.  Cf. the Persian king’s threat to turn “both by land and by sea, with ships and with money ” (Xen. hell. 5,1,31) against those who should violate the terms of the peace treaty he had dictated. 542  See Schulz (1999) and, in summary, (2010) 216–219. 543  IG II2 1467 B col. II l. 48–56. 544  IG II2 1627 coll. b l. 275–278 (tetreres). IG II2 1629 A coll. d l. 811 (penteres). See on the tetreres in Athens Casson (1973) 97–135. J.-M. Schmitt (1974). 545  Usually such documents are only mentioned, but not preserved. 546  Demosth. or. 4,28 . 547  Demosthenes (or. 4,19–23) pleaded for the formation of two armed forces with a total of 2000 men. The part of the army made up of 500 citizen soldiers was to be kept continuously ready for action in order to be able to quickly confront the Macedonian king if necessary. This contingent, formed from Athenians, was to participate in the campaign for only a limited period at a time and was to be replaced again and again. A second contingent was to comprise 1500 mercenaries as a mobile task force, stationed in the North Aegean in a kind of guerrilla warfare (λῃστεύειν) to inflict as much damage as possible on Philip II and otherwise concentrate on the defence of Chalkidike. A cavalry, of which again Athens was to furnish a quarter, was to complete the footsoldiers. In addition, ten triremes and several transport ships were to be kept ready for action. 540 541

112

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

stylistic device in the same way as the evocation of emotions (such as fear or anger): The speaker suggests objectivity and dispassion. The costs of war could be calculated precisely, the war could be planned, and the risk could be calculated and thus managed. Why the proposal of the amphibious operation,548 which was supposed to wear down the enemy with hit and run-tactics, did not convince is not known; Philip II was probably not perceived as an immediate threat by the ekklesia. It is also likely that the Athenian audience thought the Demosthenic calculation too good to be true; to be able to achieve so much with so little money was apparently not believed by anyone. The actual costs of the recent past were too present549: the attempt to aid Amphipolis in 357 had cost 1500 talents alone.550 For the mercenaries in the Social War Athens had had to raise 1000 talents.551 And just a year before Demosthenes delivered his First Philippic, the army’s march to Thermopylae to confront Philip II after the battle of the Crocus Field cost 200 talents.552 All these items, however, were dwarfed by the expenditure on the Phocian mercenary army, which was said to have swallowed up 10,000 talents.553

 On this point, see Hanson (2001) 369–375.  Total war expenditures have rarely been calculated; most scholars rejected such estimates for obvious reasons – expenditures varied widely and reliable figures are thin on the ground. They confined themselves to listing a general impression of the known costs of sieges, surviving figures for individual contingents, and estimates for average engagements. See, for example, Gabrielsen (1994) 114–118. Samons (2000) 209. van Wees (2000) 107–108. Only more recently have attempts been made to estimate military costs. Gabrielsen (2008). Pritchard (2012) 39–59. Earlier exceptions were Robbins (1918). Brun (1983) 144–161. Unz (1985). 550  Demosth. or. 3,28. Cf. Aeschin. 2,71. 551  Isocr. or. 7,9. 552  Demosth. or. 4,17 and 41. 18,32. 19,84. Diod. 16,37,3–38,2. Iust. 8,2. 553  Diod. 16,36,1. 16,56,6. 548 549

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

113

Table 2.5  Costs of the different types of weapons according to Demosthenes (or. 4.28) per year and the conversion of the figures mentioned to the amount of the soldiers’ pay Personnel strength

Cost according to Demosthenes per year Conversion to the annual fee per person Conversion to the daily charge per person

Trireme crew 2000 (10 triremes of 200 persons each) 40 talents

Foot soldiers 2000

Horsemen 200

40 talents

12 talents

40 talents: 2000 persons = 720 obols

40 talents: 2000 foot soldiers = 720 obols

720 obols: 360 days = 2 obols

720 obols: 360 days = 2 obols

12 talents: 200 horsemen = 360 drachmas 360 drachmas: 360 days = 1 drachma

See also note 555

The 92 talents estimated by Demosthenes are indeed very low, since he only calculated the σιτηρέσιον (see Table 2.5).554 The soldiers, on the other hand, were supposed to earn their wages themselves (through plunder, robbery, and extortion).555 The costs mentioned here refer to the deployment of an army and could therefore be avoided if the assembly opposed military operations. The situation was different with those expenses that were also incurred in peacetime, such as for garrisons, for the training of the ephebes, and the horses of the cavalry.556 Especially in the middle of the fourth century, Athens maintained several guard troops in the North Aegean and in Thrace, which were on duty the whole year and  Demosth. or. 4,28. – See on pay (rations and allowances) generally Boeckh (1886) I 340–358. Pritchett (1971–1991) II 3–29. Loomis (1998) 32–61. Burrer (2008). – It is unknown when soldiers’ pay was introduced. Loomis (1998) 36–39. van Wees (2004) 237 and 316 note 27. - Assuming that Demosthenes’ proposed costs were only half the usual amounts, he calculated four obols per day for rations and pay in the mid-fourth century; he apparently did not provide for grain rationing. This seems comparatively  – though not unusually  – meager. A soldier around 400 normally received a cash allowance of five obols per day. However, the amounts varied between four and six obols depending on the cash situation. Four obols: Xen. an. 7,6,7. Five obols: Xen. an. 5,6,23 (about 25 drachmas per month); 7,2,36; 7,3,10. One drachma: Xen. an. 1,3,21. – A lochagos, on the other hand, could expect eight to ten obols, a strategos even double that, i.e. sixteen to twenty obols per day, since the pay ratio of common soldier to lochagos and strategos was 1 to 2 to 4. Cf. Xen. an. 7,2,36: soldiers one kyzikenos per month, lochagos two, and the strategoi four. Xen. an. 7,6,1 and 7: soldiers one daric, lochagos two and strategos four a month. Burrer (2008) 80.  – During 433/2 and 412/11 hoplites and oarsmen received one drachma daily by default (Thuc. 3,17,4. 6,8,1. 6,31,3. 7,27,1–2). Loomis (1998) 39–44 and 55–56 with references. Apparently the pay dropped from an initial five obols at the beginning of the fourth century to four obols in the period after the Social War around 350 and then rose again slightly to six obols during the period of Lycurgian consolidation of finances ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42,3). – The fluctuations seem plausible in view of empty coffers, though our knowledge is most sketchy; except for the Demosthenic figure for the year 351, most of the figures come from Xenophon’s Anabasis, i.e., from the period 401 to 399, while there is  more information again in the pseudo-Aristotelian Athenaion politeia about 330. 555  Demosth. or. 4,29. 556  In addition, conscripts received pay for their participation in parades (Isocr. or. 7,82). 554

114

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

for which therefore probably mercenaries were hired.557 In Attica, on the other hand, such guard duties were performed by the ephebes during their two years of training,558 for which they initially received no subsistence payments559 This changed after the Battle of Chaeronea, when the ephebia was reorganized under Lykurgus and received the form known from the Athenaion Politeia.560 During these two years, the polis came up with four obols each for the food and maintenance of the 500–1000 ephebes.561 Altogether, these expenses amounted to about 25 talents annually after the reform of 336/5.562 In addition, the ephebes now received their equipment (shield and spear) from the polis.563 Thus, these costs roughly correspond to the annual expenses for the jury pay.564 Unspectacularly as this reform may have looked at first glance, it brought about a significant change in the long run. In Xenophon’s time, participation in the ephebia still required that the family could secure the young man’s livelihood for two years. In addition, for certain groups the expense of the shield as well as for the spear meant being excluded from systematic training; for them, service as rowers remained. The Lycurgian reform, therefore, democratized the ephebia: all male descendants of citizens were now allowed to perform military service – and this at a time when the polis had effectively forfeited its ability to act in foreign policy. From now on, all Athenians without distinction shared the common two-year experience. Moreover, the integrative function of the ephebia was strengthened by the visit of sites important for Athenian history. Accordingly, the new regulation substituted a legal criterion for an economic one; the ephebia could thus become the hallmark of civic status par excellence. Democratization – or rather a de-aristocratization – can also be observed in the cavalry.565 Cavalry, which was recruited from among the economic elite, was the more expensive type of weapon compared to hoplites and peltasts, for which Attica – in contrast to Thessaly, for example – did not offer favourable conditions. Nevertheless, the cavalry gained in importance in the fourth century, as it was

 Such φρουραί are attested for Perinthos (Demosth. or. 23,142), Serrion and Hieron Oros (Demosth. or. 9,15), Andros (IG II2 123), and Arkesine (IG XII.7, 5). 558  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42,4. 559  Xen. vect. 4,52. 560  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42,2–5. Rhodes (1985a) 502–510. On the ephebia in the fourth century, especially the Lycurgian reform, see Reinmuth (1952). Pélékidis (1962) 83–157. Ruschenbusch (1979b). Humphreys (1985) 206–209. Burckhardt (1996) 26–75. – Already in the mid-fourth century, the enlistment of hoplites had been improved, with an age-based system replacing the old one, which was perceived as unfair (Lys. or. 9 For the Soldier). See Christ (2001). 561  In addition, the ten supervisors each received a drachma ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42.3). 562  Hansen (1988) 4. 563  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42,4. 564  Hansen (1995) 195: amount between 22 and 37 talents. 565  On Athenian cavalry in general, see Anderson (1961). Bugh (1988). Worley (1994). Spence (1993). Stoll (2010). 557

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

115

ideally suited for ambush-like attacks.566 While hoplites were relatively immobile, soldiers on horseback could act flexibly. For this purpose, special hamippoi based on the Boeotian model supplemented the Athenian cavalry from the 360s at the latest.567 Apart from the 200 hippotoxotai or prodromoi who replaced the mounted archers at the beginning of the fourth century568 and whose horses were probably provided by the polis,569 the city granted a loan (κατάστασις) for the purchase of the horse, which was to be reimbursed at the end of the period of service – probably after fifteen years at the latest570 – in order to finance the horse of the new horseman to be taken on.571 The katastasis could be used – perhaps from the 350s onwards – up to the amount of twelve minae.572 The extension of credit for the purchase of a

 Xenophon (hipp. 7,7) even explicitly recommended cavalry for raids. Despite (or because of?) the aristocratic reputation of the cavalry, there seem to have been recruitment difficulties in the 360s, which is why Xenophon felt compelled to write the Hipparchicus. Cf. Xen. hipp. 1,2 and 9–12. Bugh (1988) 156 and 158. – On the dating of the writing see Anderson (1974) 184. Stoll (2010) 9. 567  Hamippoi were trained soldiers who ran alongside the horsemen. Hamippoi as an addition to the cavalry: [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 49,1. Boeotian model: Thuc. 5,57. Xen. hell. 7,5,23. Dating based on Xen. hipp. 9,7. on this see Bugh (1988) 173. 568  Bugh (1988) 173 and 221–224. 569  Ibid. 135 and 157. 570  Ibid. 172. 571  Lys. or. 16,6–7. Harpocr. s. v. κατάστασις. See Kroll (1977) 97–98. Bugh (1988) 56–58. 572  Kroll (1977) 99. This was equivalent to the price of a first-class thoroughbred or the wages of a worker of four years (Aristoph. Nub. 21–22 and 1224–1225. Xen. an. 7,8,6. Lys. or. 7,10). An animal without pedigree, on the other hand, cost about three minae in about 390 (Is. 5,43). For a discussion of the price, see Bugh (1988) 57 with notes 73 and 158, who links the comparatively generous loan to the Xenophontic writing of Hipparchicus and infers recruitment difficulties in the 360s. As a result, in the 350s (or in the period after Chaeronea) the level of katastasis would have been raised. On horse prices in general, Anderson (1961) 136. Kroll (1977) 89. Spence (1993) 272–286. – Unfortunately, it is unknown whether all hippeis claimed this amount, how frequently horses had to be acquired, and, most importantly, how high this allowance was on average. Conceivably, it was considered honorable not to accept financial support – especially since horse breeding was considered an elite status symbol. This is supported by the observation that katastasis does not appear on the approximately 110 lead tablets from the fourth century equestrian archive unearthed at the agora. Even if the tablets do not record the amount of the public loan, they are very informative from a fiscal point of view. The archive served to collect and keep up to date the relevant data of the hippeis. To this end, the owner’s name, identifying marks of the horse (color and brand), and the value of the animal were noted. If the horse was lost or died through no fault of its own during the period of service, the owner was reimbursed by the polis for the current price. This reimbursement had no effect on the original loan amount, which was to be reimbursed in full at the end of the period of service; thus, lending meant military expenses for the polis only in the event of non-payment. Accordingly, some annual budget for the death or loss of horses must still be taken into account. Bugh (1988) 58. 566

116

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

horse – in addition to the year-round allowance for fodder573 – represented a procedure that ran counter to the original aristocratic character of the hippeia. By reducing the economic hurdles, the polis was able to expand the circle of potential applicants.574 How much this reform cost and which contingents Athens sent into the field and for how long remains unclear. The costs, however, must have been considerable; after all, troops were almost continuously in action: in the years between 396 and 386 and then between 378 and 338 Athens took part in fighting almost continuously  – and thus more frequently than in the fifth century.575 However, it is not always possible to decide whether the soldiers mentioned were citizens or mercenaries. As a tendency, it can be stated: The more threatening the immediate danger seemed, the higher was the willingness to dare to fight with as many citizens as possible. Given the high risk of injury and death, the pay was not very attractive for an average Athenian  – especially for a citizen-soldier who did not train in arms daily – since a skilled worker earned about the same at the same time, namely one drachma a day.576 But even for those who could not otherwise find an income, military service – compared to, say, being a juror – rarely constituted a financial option, since Athenian citizens had to equip themselves on their own expense until the 330s. If despite this, a considerable number of citizen-soldiers went out into the field in the fourth century,577 then this shows that it was not economic reasons but loyalty to the polis and to its decisions made by majority vote that motivated the politai to take

 About 360 the allowance for fodder amounted to nearly forty talents annually (Xen. hipp. 1,19. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 49,1). On this see Bugh (1988) 60 and 154–156. Hansen (1995) 329. – If we reckon four obols for the fodder of horses (Demosth. or. 4,28) on 354 days, the amount corresponds to a cavalry of 1000 horsemen. This number is also otherwise attested; after the Social War Demosthenes(or. 14,13) also puts the cavalry in his speech On the Symmories at 1000 hippeis. 574  In the Lamian War, Athens sent 500 horsemen into the field (Diod. 18,11,3). The 500 hippeis represented one of the largest mounted contingents Athens had ever mustered. On the one hand, this reflects the importance that cavalry had in the Macedonian army in the fourth century, and the attempt to counteract it. On the other hand, the relatively large number of horsemen sent by Athens also testifies to the confidence that had been gained through the military reforms after Chaeronea, according to Bugh (1988) 173. 575  Cawkwell (1962a) 383. Austin (1994) 528. Pritchard (2012) 47. 576  See on the daily wage of a worker in the fourth century above Sect. 2.1.1 note 46. 577  See the fundamental studies by Burckhardt (1995) and (1996). 573

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

117

up arms.578 The civic community saw itself primarily as a military community, even if it often employed mercenaries for tactical and practical reasons.579 The fact that the Athenians lost their autonomy in foreign affairs in the Battle of Chaeronea was not due to their lack of foresight or willingness to engage, but rather to the military  The major military conflicts alone throw a significant light on the military situation: Between 395 and 387 Athens fought alongside Corinth and Argos in the Corinthian War against Sparta. In this, citizen-soldiers still took the brunt, according to Burckhardt (1995) 118. – Iphicrates led the Athenian πανδημεί into the Peloponnese in 369 (Xen. hell. 6,5,49. Diod. 15,63,2. Paus. 9,14,6–7. Polyain. 3,9,20. 3,9,28. 3,9,37. Nep. Iphicrates 2,5). Similarly, in 366 Athens fielded all her citizensoldiers in the conflicts with the Thebans about Oropos (Xen. hell. 7,4,1). Four years later (362) the Athenians faced the Thebans in the battle of Mantineia (Xen. hell. 7,5,15–25. vect. 3,7. Diod. 15,84,4–15,87. Paus. 8,11. Polyain. 2,3,14) and about three years later (359/58), they mustered about 3000 hoplites against Philip II (Diod. 16,2,6). In the budding conflicts with Macedonia (356–346), citizen hoplites were rarely used. Athenians became more involved in large numbers when the threat became virulent, as for example in 353, when 5000 Athenian hoplites successfully opposed Philip II at Thermopylae (Demosth. or. 19,84. Diod. 16,37,3 and 38,2. Iust. 8,2,8–12). The third campaign on the Chalcidice was undertaken by 2000 citizen-hoplites and a cavalry of 150 Athenians under Chares (Philochorus FGrHist 328  F 51). Even during the Peloponnesian War Athens had not provided a larger cavalry detachment. See, on the other hand, Demosth. or. 19,266: 50 triremes, 4000 citizen soldiers and 10,000 mercenaries. These figures are generally thought to be implausible. Bugh (1988) 164–165 note 27 – On the occasion of the Battle of Chaeronea the Athenians called their entire contingent to arms (Diod. 16,85,2), and in the Lamian War Athens once more concentrated her forces, raised all soldiers up to the age of forty, and accordingly participated with 5000 – or maybe even 9000 – foot soldiers in the battles outside and for the protection of Attica. All Athenians up to the age of forty: Diod. 18,10,2–3. 18,11,3. 5000 soldiers: Diod. 18,11,3. 9000 soldiers: Burckhardt (1995) 120 note 81 with reference to Diod. 18,18,5. Macedonian attack on Attica: Plut. Phokion 25,1–2. 579  In 388, for example, Chabrias moved to Cyprus with 800 hired Peltasts (Xen. hell. 5,1,10–11). The same commander ten years later blocked the road across Eleutherai with lightly armed mercenaries and took part with them in the fighting in Boeotia. On Chabrias as a mercenary leader see Xen. hell. 5,4,14. Nep. Chabrias 1,1–2, Diod. 15,32,5 and 33,4.  – Between 369 and 365 the Athenians again sent an army, largely composed of mercenaries, into the field (Xen. hell. 7,1,25. 7,1,41–42. 7,2,18–23. Aeschin. 2,168. Diod. 15,68,1. Paus. 9,15,4. IG II2 84). Burckhardt (1995) 113. – In the ten-month siege and occupation of Samos 365, 7000 (Polyain. 3,10,9) or 8000 mercenaries (Isocr. or. 15,111) were employed. Burckhardt (1995) 113 – In the following years until the Battle of Chaeronea, Athens fought battles continuously, even simultaneously on different fronts. In the process, the generals often remained permanently engaged with standing mercenary armies. However, the military conflicts between Philip II and Athens were still concentrated in northern Greece, especially in the beginning. The main site of conflict in the early 340s was mainly the Chalcidice, to which Athens sent a total of three contingents to support Olynthus: The first (in 349) included 2000 enlisted peltasts and 38 triremes under the command of Chares (Demosth. or. 3,7. 21,161. Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 49), the second, when Philip II attacked the Chalcidian League directly (348), 4000 lightly armed mercenaries, 150 enlisted horsemen and 18 triremes under Charidemus (Philochoros FGrHist 328 F 50. Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 143). For the decisive Battle at Chaeronea the Athenians, together with their allies, mustered a mercenary army of 15,000 men and 2000 horsemen (Demosth. or. 18,237). In the Lamian War Athens had given Leosthenes fifty talents for mercenary recruitment (Diod. 17,111,3). The strategos  allegedly recruited 6000 mercenaries at Cape Tainarion, 2000 additional ones were added with the Athenian contingent (Diod. 18,9,1–2). O. Schmitt (1992) 69, 74 and 76. See on the other hand Engels (1993) 346 note 737. The figures are topical, but at least give an impression of the order of magnitude of the forces, so O. Schmitt (1992) 69 with 134 note 49. 578

118

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

and tactical skill of Philip II, who was also able to put himself in possession of great resources.580

2.4.2 Athens’ Pride and Joy: The Fleet The financial and personnel efforts that the Athenians made to wage war can be seen above all in the expenditures for the fleet. It significantly shaped Athens’ self-image, formed the decisive military power factor, but also represented a much higher financial burden than a land army.581 Citizen armies could be sent home, mercenaries could be dismissed and, if necessary, recruited or hired again at short notice, but a fleet required continuous financial efforts for the construction and care of ships and the establishment or maintenance of maritime infrastructure.582 Therefore, apart from the human losses, the end of the Peloponnesian War hardly meant a drastic change for the Athenian land army. The situation was different, however, with the fleet: the Athenians had to hand over their warships to Lysander and demolish the shipyards.583 This was not only an act of demilitarization but also of demoralization.584 Therefore, the Athenians immediately rebuilt the μακρὰ τείχη as soon as the

 The preparations before the Battle of Chaeronea are significant for this: In November 339 an alliance with Thebes was reached, which demanded serious concessions from the Athenians. Athens was to pay two-thirds of the cost of the war, while Thebes was given supreme command on land and a share in the command at sea, although Thebes could provide only a few ships (Bengtson (1975) II 216). The Athenians called their entire contingent to arms (Diod. 16,85,2) and in addition, together with their allies Euboea, Achaia, Corinth, Thebes, Megara, Leucas, and Corcyra, raised a mercenary army of 15,000 men and 2,000 horsemen (Demosth. or. 18,237). Nevertheless, the anti-Macedonian coalition remained outnumbered at Chaeronea, where it met Philip II’s 30,000 foot soldiers and 2000 cavalry (Diod. 16,85,5–6. Iust. 9,3,9).  – Philip II differed from Athens’ earlier opponents not only in being able to make decisions quickly and implement them effectively as an autocrat, but also in pursuing a policy of expansion that legitimized his rule. A war machine geared to military success could not be met by seeking the decisive battle. In addition, Philip II was able to seize the silver mines of Damastion in Illyria and the gold and silver deposits in the Pangaion Mountains, which provided him with 1000 talents annually (Diod. 16,8,4). This is about ten times as much as Athens had at her disposal from the silver deposits! With a highly modern standing mercenary army – a major advantage, as Demosthenes (or. 9,48–50) points out – careful financial management (Serrati (2007) 462–464), political calculation and developments that played into his hands, he had subjugated Northern Greece, Thrace and finally Central Greece. On the Macedonian army under Philip II, see generally Ellis (1976). Hammond (1989) 100–119. Worthington (2008) 26–32. Sekunda (2010). 581  Lys. or. 33,5: […] ἐπίστασθε δὲ ὅτι ἡ μὲν ἀρχὴ τῶν κρατούντων τῆς θαλάττης […]. “you are aware that empire is for those who command the sea.” 582  See on the financing of the fleet in Classical times Boeckh (1840) and (1886) I 316–317; 343–358; 628–672. Kolbe (1901). Andreades (1931) 229–239 and 343–348. Gabrielsen (1994), (2001), (2007) and (2008). 583  Lys. or. 12,99. 13,14 and 46. Isocr. or. 7,66 584  Cf. the anecdote that the Long Walls were razed to the sound of flutes (Xen. hell. 2,2,23). 580

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

119

financial and power-political opportunities presented themselves to them in the 390s.585 In this context, they revised the original course of the Long Walls and now drew the fortification around the peninsula Acte.586 The walls above all should protect the shipyards, the buildings for administration or ship’s crew, and the ship and arsenals in the Kantharos, Zea, and Munichia harbour.587 Forty years later, after the Social War, the Athenians had a series of shipyards built on a grand scale,588 some of which, however, were not completed until the reign of Lykurgus.589 From this time at the latest (330/29) there must have been a total of about 400 neosoikoi.590 They covered a total area of almost eleven hectares591 – that is, of more than fifteen football fields. Further neosoikoi must also be assumed in overseas bases where parts of the fleet were stationed.592 Where at first simple wooden sheds had sufficed to protect the ships from theft and the weather, the later neosoikoi represented monumental buildings and demonstrated the importance of the fleet in the Athenians’ self-image. In this respect, the skeuotheke, designed by the famous Eleusian architect Philon, speaks a clear

 For this reason Conon was also celebrated, because he decisively advanced the rebuilding of the walls with Persian money and with his ship crews as manpower (Xen. hell. 4,4,2. 4,8,8–14. Demosth. or. 20,68–70. Diod. 14,84,4–5; 14,85,2–3. IG II2 1656–1664. Tod (1968) II no. 107 A. SEG 41,102). Epigraphic and archaeological evidence at Piraeus, however, shows that the decision to rebuild the walls had already been taken in 394, before Conon’s return in 393. Funke (1980a) 49 and von Eickstedt (1991) 28–29. In addition, allies also contributed to the building of the wall (IG II2 1656 & 1657. Xen. hell. 4,8,10). See on the return of Conon Asmonti (2015) 162–163. 586  Altogether, three phases can be identified for the fortification of Piraeus in the fourth century, according to von Eickstedt (1991) 27–31 and 33. Besides the first expansion period between 395/4 and 392/1, a second one can be assumed for the years 337/6; now even the border fortress Phyle was included in the fortified area (IG II/III2 244). Perhaps the measures of 337/6 can be linked to those for which Demosthenes acted as teichopoios (Demosth. or. 18,113; 248; 299. Aeschin. 3,17; 27; 31). W. Will (1983) 24–25 with note 164. von Eickstedt (1991) 30–31. Within his jurisdiction fell the Piraeus, for which he received ten talents and contributed a hundred minae himself (Demosth. or. 18,248. [Plut.] X orat. Demosth. = mor. 845 f). Pseudo-Plutarch, on the other hand, presents a psephisma which mentions three talents ([Plut.] mor. 851 a). Cf. also Demosth. or. 18,118. Aeschines 3,23–31. Lycurgus. 1,44. Phot. Bibl. 494a 13–15. IG II2 351 l. 12–15. – Probably the ten talents came from the same fund into which the eisphorai, also levied annually in the period between 347/6 and 323/2 and also amounting to ten talents, went, which were actually intended to serve the building of shipyards and the arsenal of Philon (IG II2 505 l. 12–17 with IG II2 1627 l. 398 and IG II2 1668). On the Philon’s arsenal, see the following. On the eisphora, see below Sect. 4.1. 587  See on ports in general von Eickstedt (1991) 61–81. – Already in the fifth century ship crews had gathered here according to trittyes, as can be seen from the boundary stones (IG I2 897–901). 588  Dein. 1,96. Aeschin. 3,25; 27; 31. 589  [Plut.] or. X orat. Lycurgus (= mor. 841 d). [Plut.] mor. 852 c. 590  IG II2 1627 c l. 398–405. There the total number of 372 neosoikoi is mentioned, of which 82 were shipyards in Munichia, 94 in Kantharos and 196 in Zea. See also von Eickstedt (1991) 69–79. 591  Lovén (2011) 174. 592  This is attested for Oiniadai (Xen. hell. 4,6,17). See on the shipyards there Kolonas (1989–1990) with map 9, 10, 14 and fig. 5. Cf. Gabrielsen (2008) 71 note 55. 585

120

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

language.593 The arsenal was anything but a simple utility building to store the rigging of warships and to control the entrances and exits. The elegant building, about 120 metre long, sixteen metres wide and ten metres high, satisfied even the most fastidious aesthetic demands.594 The arsenal consisted of carefully hewn blocks of local stone or marble and was equipped with windows, a gabled roof, a triglyph frieze, and a smoothed interior floor. Here the democratic polis set a monument to its naval pride – with such success that some four hundred years later people were still talking about it in Rome.595 In this pattern of interpretation – democratic Athens and fleet are one – it is not surprising that not even fifteen years after the Peloponnesian War, the polis once again set out to regain maritime dominance in the Aegean with an extensive fleet-­ building program.596 Athens’ historically underpinned claim to naval supremacy was briefly dampened by the Peace of Antalcidas of 386, but eight years later Athens again set about a fleet-building programme and called on friendly poleis to join a new naval alliance directed against Sparta.597 Despite the Social War, Athens successfully maintained superiority in the Aegean until 340.598 With a benchmark of

 A long inscriptional record of construction provides information on architectural details that can be cross-checked with the archaeological evidence. The arsenal was built between 347 (IG II2 1668) and 329 (IG II2 1627 l. 288; 292; 296; 301–302; 407; 420) with interruptions (Philochorus FGrHist 328  F 55b).  – See on the arsenal Strab. 9,1,15. Linfert/Mausbach (1981). Untermann (1984). Travlos (1988) 343. Gabrielsen (1994) 149 and 247 note 10. Garland (2001) 156–158. von Eickstedt (1991) 78–79. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 15–17 with 165 figs. 1 and 2.  – According to Vitruvius (7 pr.,12) Philon wrote works on the proportions of temples and on the arsenal at Piraeus. Also Pliny (nat. hist. 7,125) and Valerius Maximus (8,12) testify to the fame of the architect and his buildings. 594  Cf. on the aesthetic value of the port infrastructure also Com. Adesp. 340: “O Athens, mistress of all cities! How beautiful your port facilities! How beautiful thy Parthenon! How beautiful the Piraeus!” 595  Cf. the anecdote in Valerius Maximus (8,12): “Athens is praised for her arsenal, and not without reason; for that building is worth seeing both for its costliness and its elegance. It is generally known that its architect Philon justified his building project with such eloquence in the theater that this most articulate people paid him no less tribute for his eloquence than for his art.” – At the arsenal a trend emerged that was to develop fully in Hellenistic times: technical innovations also served as evidence of exceptional achievement. In Lycurgian times, for example, this is evidenced by a fountain house with a monumental water clock, which is one of the largest fountain houses known anywhere and had a complicated mechanism for measuring time. On this see J. E. Armstrong/ Camp (1977). Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 44. Knell (2000) 101–102. Camp (2010) 173. 596  See Funke (1980a) 136–162 for a basic discussion. 597  Xen. hell. 5,4,34.IG II2 34.HGIÜ 214. Tod (1968) II 118. Bengtson (1975) II 248. See on the Second Athenian League in general Cargill (1981). Schmitz (1988) 256–317. Seager (1994) 163–186. Dreher (1995). Hochschulz (2007) 71–127. 598  Cf. for example Demosth. or. 6,12. 8,45. Xen. hell. 7,1,1 and 4. Diod. 15,78,4. 593

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

121

300 ships seaworthy or to be held in reserve,599 the polis ordered 40–50 triremes to sea on an almost continuous basis.600 While the outcome of the Battle of Chaeronea had little effect on the Athenian fleet,601 the defeat in the Lamian War, for which Athens had mustered 170 (of about 400) ships,602 drew a final line. After the loss of the fleet at Amorgos, Athens could no longer cope organizationally and financially with an oversized naval war such as that waged by the Hellenistic kingdoms.603 How large the fleet actually was cannot be said with certainty, since the literary and epigraphic data give only a rough impression: In the thirty years between 387 and 357 the contingent increased from 100 ships to about 180, until finally more

 In the speech On the Symmories (354/3), Demosthenes (or. 14,13) gives the round number of 300 triremes, which he wanted to keep ready for action with his reform. – The trireme remained the warship par excellence also in the fourth century; sometimes “fast triremes” are mentioned in the sources, which were either manned by selected oarsmen or were especially light or technically more elaborately built. Moreover, already in the Peloponnesian War, special troopships (στρατιώτιδες or ὁπλιταγωγοί) as well as horse-carriers (ἱππαγωγοί) had considerably increased the mobility of the land army; in this way, combined attacks by sea and land could be carried out in coordination with fast attack ships (ταχυναυτούσαι τριήρεις). 600  For example, Thrasybulus began to enforce Athens’ interests in the eastern Aegean with forty ships. Evidence in Develin (1989) 214  – In the following period (until 338) the figures vary between ten and fifty ships: Chares encamped in 353/2 with twenty ships in the North Aegean Neapolis (Polyain. 4,2,22), Charidemos reached the Hellespont in 351/0 with ten ships (Demosth. or. 3,4–5) and in 341/0 again Chares operated with forty ships also in the Hellespont region (Hesychius FGrHist 390 F 1,31). 601  The moderate treatment of Athens compared to that of Thebes after the Battle of Chaeronea – Philip II released the 2000 Athenian prisoners without ransom and opened peace negotiations (Diod. 16,87,3) – might have its reason in the fact that the Macedonian king wanted to secure the Athenian fleet for his Persian campaign, even if Alexander for a short time forbade to sell wood from Mount Dysoron in 335 (SEG 37,573). See on localization Borza (1990) 53. – To Alexander’s fleet, however, Athens contributed only twenty triremes (Arr. 1,11,6; 1,18,4. Diod. 17,22,5. Plut. Phocion 21,1). On the role of the Athenian fleet in Alexander’s army, see Parpas (2013) 122–123 for a summary. 602  Number of ships sent out in the Lamian War: Diod. 18,15,8. – The last completely preserved list of triearchies from the year 325/4 (IG II2 1629 coll. d l. 783–825) includes 360 triremes, 43 tetreres and 7 penteres. This order of magnitude can also be assumed for the period of the Lamian War. On fleet strength and maritime operations during the Lamian War see O. Schmitt (1992) 66–73 and 130–142. On the naval battle at Amorgos Ashton (1977). O. Schmitt (1992) 136–140. – Antipater was able to unite his 110 ships in 322 with the fleet of Cleitus, which was then about 240 ships strong (Diod. 18,12,2. 18,15,8). O. Schmitt (1992) 136. On the Macedonian fleet see generally Hauben (1976). 603  Burckhardt (1995) 126. 599

122

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

than 400 ships were available in 330.604 Even inscribed figures should be treated with caution. For example, a total of 283 ships are attested for the year 357/6, but of these only 89 units were ready for use (πλώιμοι).605 Therefore, three categories can be distinguished in the sources: Ships that were actually sent into action, seaworthy triremes (or tetreres or penteres), and total available hulks.606 The fleet strength and the associated financial burdens fluctuated, not only because shipwrecks, captures, and war losses decimated the unit, but also because, conversely, Athens could add captured or provided ships to its naval forces.607 The construction of new triremes (and tetreres or penteres) depended on how the assembly assessed the financial possibilities and the foreign policy situation.608 But also the procurement of materials was a highly political matter: Since the triremes, as well as the tetreres and penteres, were usually built in the Attic shipyards (the  The literary and epigraphic data refer to different reference values. Sometimes the total number of the fleet is given, sometimes only detachments: For example, Athens had twelve triremes in 403 (Xen. hell. 2,2,20). Ten years later Conon entered the Piraeus with 80 Persian ships (Xen. hell. 4,8,8–10. Diod. 14,84,5). In 390/89 Thrasybulus was sailing in the eastern Aegean with forty ships [Develin (1989) 214] and in 387 50–70 triremes were in action [Gabrielsen (2008) 51]. In 378 Athens dispatched about 100 triremes (Pol. 2,62,2), which is consistent with the inscriptional evidence (IG II2 1604). Diodorus (15,34,5) speaks of 83 triremes for the year 376. In the following year Athens sent a total of seventy ships to sea (Xen. hell. 5,4,63 with 5,4,66). At the beginning of the Social War (357/6) the Athenians possessed 283 triremes attested in inscriptions (IG II2 1611 a l. 3–9). For the year 353/2 349 triremes (IG II2 1613 f l. 284–292 and 302) are attested, for 330/29 both 392 triremes and 18 tetreres (IG II2 1627 coll. b l. 266–278), for 325/4 even 360 triremes, 43 tetreres, 7 penteres (IG II2 1629 coll. d l. 783–812) and finally for 323/2 perhaps 365 ships (IG II2 1631 l. 167–174). 605  IG II2 1611. Gabrielsen (2008) 53–54 at 62–63 (table). 606  An example from the fifth century illustrates the problem: For the fleet strength immediately before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War the ancient authors give diverging figures. While Thucydides (2,13,8) and Aristophanes (Ach. 544–545) speak of 300 seagoing triremes, the Athenians, according to Pseudo-Xenophon (Ath. pol. 3,4), appointed 400 trierarchs annually. In addition, Xenophon (an. 7,1,27) puts the number of ships available both at the mole and in the shipyards at 300 or perhaps (according to some manuscripts) at 400. Andokides (3,9), on the other hand, once offers the indication “more than 400 ships”, but elsewhere (2,175) speaks of 300 naval forces ready and prepared. Gabrielsen resolves this apparent contradiction by making it plausible that two different categories are meant here: on the one hand, those ships that were actually ready for action, and on the other, those that were stored as reserves in the shipyards but still had to be made seaworthy. See Gabrielsen (2007) 262 and (2008) 52–54. 607  IG II2 1604–1607. Demosth. or. 20,77. Isocr. or. 16,21. – For example, in the summer of 393 the satrap Pharnabazus left a fleet to the Athenians (Xen. hell. 4,8,9). – Neither did a certain contingent annually supplement the dwindling numbers, nor was a fleet-building program enforced at certain intervals to keep the numbers constant. Nor can any conclusions be drawn from the alleged average life span of a trireme. See Gabrielsen (1994) 134–135 and (2008) 51 and 69 notes 32 and 33. 608  Xen. hell. 7,1,4. Demosth. or. 22,8–11. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 46,1: “The Council also inspects triremes after construction, and their rigging, and the naval sheds, and has new triremes or tetreres, whichever the People votes for, built and rigged, and naval sheds built; but naval architects are elected by the People. If the outgoing Council does not hand over these works completed to the new Council, the members cannot draw their honorarium, which is payable when the next Council is in office. For the building of triremes it elects ten of its own members as Naval Constructors.” – See Rhodes (1972) 115–116. 604

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

123

telegoneia609),610 the raw materials needed for shipbuilding had to be imported.611 Partly wood was brought to Athens from Thrace, southern Italy and Syria.612 Contracts were also concluded with the Odrysian potentate and the Chalcidian League,613 but most of the wood came from Macedonia, with whose king there were also agreements.614 The metals iron, copper and tin, important for shipbuilding, also came from outside Attica.615 While there are numerous possible areas of origin for the import of iron,616 it can be assumed that copper came from Cyprus, the main exporter of this raw material.617 Tin, on the other hand, is very rare, came from Britain or Gaul, and may have been traded through Massalia.618 Red chalk, also necessary for shipbuilding, to protect the wooden planks, was exported from the nearby island of Keos.619

 IG II2 1611 l. 132–133.  IG II2 1604–1632. 611  [Xen.] Ath. pol. 2.11–12. On the materials needed for trireme construction, see Morrison/ Coates/Rankov (2000) 179–190. On the import of wood, Isager/Hansen (1975) 29–31. 612  Thrace: Thuc. 4,108,1. Diod. 12,58,4. Xen. hell. 5,2,16. – Southern Italy: Thuc. 6,90,3. 7,25,2. Syria: Plut. Demetrius 10. Diod. 20,46,4. IG II2 1492 B l. 120–124. – Athens probably imported the important material also from other wood-rich regions like Thessaly ([Dicaearch.] 2,1), Asia Minor (Thuc. 4,52,3. Xen. hell. 1,1,24. Strab. 14,5,3), Cyprus (Strab. 14,6,5) and the Black Sea region (Strab. 11,2,17). 613  IG I2 105 l. 30. Xen. hell. 6,1,11. and 2,11. Demosth. or. 17,28. 19,114; 145; 265. 49,26. Theophr. char. 23,4. Diod. 20,46,4. Meiggs (1982) 116–153. Borza (1987). 614  IG I3 89 and 117. Cf. also IG I2 91 (= HGIÜ 150): People’s decision on fleet construction, combined with honors and proxenia conferred on king Archelaos of Macedonia (407/6). – The best kinds of wood for the hull of a ship offered pine plants (Pinaceae) such as fir, pine, and cedar; the ship’s keel, on the other hand, was generally made of oak (Theophr. h. plant. 5,7,1–2. Aristoph. Equ. 1309–1310). Ships for which fir, for example, rather than pine or oak, was used were about fifteen percent lighter, which enabled them to gain speed. Moreover, the hull could be additionally smoothed, so that such triremes were much more maneuverable than regularly built ships. The gain in speed and maneuverability, however, reduced stability and resistance. Morrison/Coates/Rankov (2000) 279. 615  [Xen] Ath. pol. 22,11. 616  Although Athens had large iron deposits, it did not mine them in antiquity. Michell (1957) 121. 617  Theophr. lap. 25. Strab. 14,6,5. 618  Massalia formed the main port for the tin trade in Hellenistic times (Strab. 3,2,9). 619  For this purpose, Athens and the island of Keos agreed on an exclusive right to purchase red chalk (IG II2 1128 = HGIÜ 245. Boeckh (1886) II 312–317. Tod (1968) II 162. Bengtson (1975) II 320). Red chalk (μίλτος) was used to impregnate the wooden parts of ships. See on this Hdt. 3,58. Plin. nat. 33,38. – Athens was able to secure red chalk from the three cities of Karthaia, Koressos, and Iulis on the Cycladic island not far from Attica. Whether the fourth city of the island, Poiessa, also issued a similar psephisma is probable regarding content, and possible from the fragmentary state of the text. However, this city (unlike the other three) is also absent from the invitation to the Second Athenian League (IG II2 42), so perhaps the links between Poiessa and Athens were not as intense as between the the other poleis of the island and Athens. – Traditionally, close relations existed between Athens and Keos. The population there was composed of Attic Ionians and the island had belonged to the Delian League (ATL 1,306–307 and 3,197–198). On Keos, see generally Bürchner (1921). Kaletsch (1999). 609 610

124

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

In total, according to the inscribed compensation for the loss of a trireme, a ship’s hull cost 5000 drachmas.620 To this was added the ship’s equipment, which consisted of wooden elements and “hanging” equipment,621 and amounted to either 2169 or 2299 drachmas, depending on the quality of the sail.622 Assuming the average cost mentioned, the material value of the fleet in 357/6 was about 338 talents, and in 325/4 as much as 651.5 talents.623 However, only between four and ten triremes were commissioned per year, so that about five talents per year were to be expected for new construction.624 Accordingly, the costs to keep the fleet size constant or to

 In 326/5 a list was drawn up naming persons who owed the polis compensation for damaged or lost ships and their equipment. Per hull the mentioned trierarchs were to pay 5000 drachmas (IG II2 1628 l. 339–349 and 350–368). However, the sums mentioned were not market prices or actual costs, but estimates calculated to fully cover losses or damage. It appears that all losses were added up and distributed evenly among the responsible persons. The amount of 5000 drachmas is problematic in two respects: first, it refers only to the period between 341 and 323/2; second, it only names a lump sum for a trireme hull, while the costs for the hull of a tetrere or pentere remain unknown. Gabrielsen (2008) 48–49 with 68 note 23. 621  On the ship’s equipment, see Morrison/Williams (1968) 289–307. Casson (1973) 82–92 and 224–267. Gabrielsen (1994) 227–228. Morrison/Coates/Rankov (2000) 158–178. Gabrielsen (2008) 62–63. – Wooden elements included, for example, 170 oars and 30 spare oars, helm, main mast, foremast, and large or small yards. “Hanging” gear included six different types of ropes, two anchors, sails, and also sixty leather cuffs that prevented seawater from entering the interior of the boat through the rudder openings. On these, see Morrison/Coates/Rankov (2000) 168–169 and 216. 622  A heavy sail cost less (IG II2 1624 l. 42–49. 1628 l. 369–395. 1629 l. 889–914). A lighter sail, on the other hand, was more expensive (IG II2 1623 l. 326–333. 1628 l. 100–108. 1629 l. 707–715). Gabrielsen (2008) 49 with 67 note 20. – The equipment of a tetrere, on the other hand, amounted to about three times that, to 6105 drachmas (IG II2 1629 l. 639–646, from the year 325/4). – During supply shortages, of course, prices could rise: In 323/2 the compensation for the naval equipment of a trireme amounted to 4100 drachmas (IG II2 1631 l. 444–448), not least to counteract the misappropriation of naval equipment. As a reserve the equipment for 100 triremes was stored on the Acropolis. Cf. for example [Demosth.] or. 17,28. Gabrielsen (1994) 149–169 and (2008) 49 with 68 note 21. – In addition, well-connected individuals also made ship’s equipment available to the polis for small amounts. For example, Andocides procured Macedonian oars for the fleet at Samos at an expense of five drachmas a piece (And. 2.11). On this point, see Meiggs (1982) 124–125. Gabrielsen (1994) 140–141 and (2008) 50. 623  With a hull worth 5000 drachmas and equipment worth 2169 drachmas, 283 triremes (IG II2 1611 a l.3–9, in 357/6) cost 2,028,827 drachmas, or about 338 talents, and 360 triremes, 50 tetreres, and 7 penteres (IG II2 1629 coll. d l. 783–812, in 325/4) cost 3,908,985 drachmas, or about 651.5 talents. – However, we do not know how many ships Athens was able to procure from foreign powers in a friendly or hostile manner (IG II2 1604–1607. Demosth. or. 20,77. Isocr. or. 16,21), how many had to be renewed annually, and finally, on top of that, it remains unclear whether the compensation payments included the wages for the shipbuilders or whether they only covered the pure material costs. But even the prices of raw materials were not always regularly negotiated on the market. In order to adequately deal with fluctuating prices, it can be assumed that the polis calculated with lump sums that covered the actual costs in each case, according to Gabrielsen (2008) 50–51. 624  IG II2 1611 l. 106–133: the numbers vary between one trireme for the year 359/8, four triremes in the years 363/2 to 361/0, seven in the year 360/59, eleven triremes (of which only ten were completed) at the beginning of the Social War in 358, and finally after the Social War, in the year 353/2, nineteen triremes (IG II2 1613 l. 257–267). Gabrielsen (2008) 52. 620

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

125

successively increase it are surprisingly low. The maintenance of the ships was entrusted to wealthy citizens as a trierarchy anyway.625 The ongoing maintenance costs for the ship’s crew during a maritime campaign were incomparably more expensive. The food (σιτηρέσιον) and pay (μισθός) of the two-hundred-man crew was paid by the polis since  the founding of the Delian League.626 Assuming standard pay, a fully crewed trireme called for 202.5 drachmas for a day at sea.627 Accordingly, a flotilla of twenty ships (set at a low figure) patrolling the Aegean during the regular shipping season between April and September cost 121.5 talents. The operating cost of 120 triremes, such as were used for the Social War in 356,628 thus amounted to 729 talents for six months. This sum, however, did not have to be immediately available in full. Most importantly, the ship’s crew had to have enough money to provision themselves through the regular market, since centrally provided grain rations could only be carried in small quantities on triremes.629 Accordingly, at least the rations of at least two, as a rule, three obols per day had to be ensured, while the wages, to counteract desertion, were sometimes paid in whole or in part only after the deployment.630 However, a higher pay could also be promised for tactical reasons, in order to entice suitable rowers away from the opponent.631 In general, the trierarch frequently hired maritime specialists whose expertise was known, appreciated, and paid accordingly.632 Professional rowers seem to have always found employment in the

 See Sect. 4.1.2 below for details of the trierarchy.  Ion FGrHist 392 F 13. [Xen.] Ath. pol. 1,13. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 24,1 and 27,2. Plut. Cimon 11,2 and Pericles 11,4; 12,5. Schol. Demosth. or. 13. See Loomis (1998) 36–37. – The 200 men were composed as follows: (1) 170 oarsmen. (2) The trierarch was assisted by a group of five experienced officers: helmsman (κυβερνήτης), rowing master (κελευστής), purser (πεντηκόνταρχος), bow officer (πρωράτης), shipwright (ναυπηγός). This group of sixteen auxiliaries called ὑπερησία also included the piper and ten ordinary sailors in charge of the sails. (3) In addition, ten hoplites (ἐπιβάται), together with four archers (τοξόται), undertook the protection of the trireme. How many soldiers, sailors and oarsmen served on a tetrere or pentere remains unknown. On the ship’s crew, see generally Morrison/Williams (1968) 254–279. Ruschenbusch (1979c). Morrison (1984). Morrison/Coates/Rankov (2000) 107–126. 627  Since hoplites and sailors received pay in the same amount and since the lochagos received eight to ten obols per day, it can be assumed by analogy that the officers received at least a double misthos for their services, i.e. a total of nine obols as rations (three obols) and wages (six obols). 628  Demosth. or. 18,107–108. 51, 11 and 15. [Demosth.] or. 50,11–12; 14–16 and 23. 629  Cf. for example [Demosth.] or. 50,22 and 53–55. Gabrielsen (1994) 118–119. Figueira (1998) 261–263. 630  [Demosth.] or. 50,15. Hell. Oxyrh. 15,1. Polyain. 3,9,51. Gabrielsen (1994) 113 with note 17 and (2008) 58. – Therefore, the figures vary between two and six obols, the latter amount being considered the standard daily pay (three obols siteresion and three obols misthos). Two obols: Demosth. or. 4,28. Three obols: Thuc. 8,29,1–2. 8,45,1–3. Plut. Alcibiades 35,4. Three to four obols: Xen. hell. 1,5,6–7. Plut. Lysander 4,3–4. Six obols: Thuc. 3,17,3–4. 6,31,3. 8,29,1–2. Morrison/Williams (1968) 258–259. Jordan (1975) 111–116. Gabrielsen (1994) 111 and (2008) 56. 631  Cf. for example Xen. hell. 1,5,4. 632  Cf. for example Lys. or. 21,10. Aristoph. Equ. 514–544. Plat. rep. 341 c–d. Xen. hell. 1,5,11. [Demosth.] or. 50,48–50. Demosth. or. 51,6. 625 626

126

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

fourth century, so that they could confidently assert their claims.633 They were paid advances and corresponding wages by the trierarch, especially to keep rowers recruited on the “labor market” in line.634 If one calculates with the average daily wage of a skilled worker of two drachmas635 for the rowers, the double for the helmsman as well as the master oarsman and a wage for the soldiers or remaining crew adjusted to the rowers, then a trireme cost 410 drachmas per day at sea. In this way, the costs for a fleet increased rapidly: the twenty patrol ships then devoured a total of 246 talents during the shipping season, while the 120 ships of the year 356 (in a period of six months) cost an almost unmanageable 1476 talents (see Table 2.6).

Table 2.6  List of costs for the ship’s crew [siteresion and misthos]

[siteresion and misthos]

Per day: Rowers Soldiers Crew members Officers Per trireme per day:

1 drachma 1 drachma 1 drachma 1.5 drachmas 202.5 drachmas

2 drachmas 2 drachmas 2 drachmas 4 drachmas 410 drachmas

170 Rowers 14 Soldiers 11 Crew members 5 Officers Per trireme per month

170 drachmas 14 drachmas 11 drachmas 7.5 drachmas 6075 drachmas

Per trireme per shipping season 20 trireme per day

36,450 drachmas (≈ 6.1 talents)

20 trireme per month

121,500 drachmas (= 20.25 talents) 729,000 drachmas (= 121.5 talents) 24,300 drachmas (≈ 4.1 talents)

340 drachmas 28 drachmas 22 drachmas 20 drachmas 12,300 drachmas (≈ 2.1 talents) 73,800 drachmas (= 12.3 talents) 8200 drachmas (≈ 1.4 talents) 246,000 drachmas (= 41 talents) 1,476,000 drachmas (= 246 talents) 49,200 drachmas (= 8.2 talents) 1,476,000 drachmas (= 246 talents) 8,856,000 drachmas (= 1476 talents)

20 trireme per shipping season 120 trireme per day 120 trireme per month 120 trireme per shipping season

4050 drachmas

729,000 drachmas (= 121.5 talents) 4,374,000 drachmas (= 729 talents)

 Gabrielsen (2008) 59: “‚Voller Flottensold‘ (μισθὸς ἐντελής) oder‚voll bezahlte Ruderer‘ (ναύται ἐντελόμισθοι) werden manchmal so benutzt, als ob sie Fachausdrücke geworden seien, was für die Erwartungen und Forderungen von erfahrenen Fachleuten kennzeichnend ist.” Cf. Aristoph. Equ. 1366–1367, Demosth. or. 4.29. [Demosth.] or. 50,18. 634  [Demosth.] or. 50,7,15–16. Isocr. or. 18,60. Gabrielsen (1994) 122–124. 635  See on the daily wage of a worker in the fourth century above Sect. 2.1.1 note 46. 633

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

127

Given these figures, it is hard to find a better metaphor for the fleet than that of the ravenous triremes636; no other area of public life devoured greater sums in a very short time. That the expenditure was nevertheless worthwhile in the eyes of most Athenians637 shows how much maritime supremacy was a matter of identity and a response to dependence on imported grain. It almost goes without saying that to generate such sums, one was on the lookout for practicable solutions.

2.4.3 Tapping Foreign Sources: War Is Expensive, Yet Also Profitable The Greek poleis felt little qualms about turning to the Persian Great King when they needed financial help. If in the Peloponnesian War the Persian king had still granted subsidies to Sparta, by the time of the Corinthian War it was the anti-­Spartan alliance that received Persian support638 – Lysias called the Persian king treasurer (ταμίας τῶν χρημάτων), with whom the Greeks would hire themselves out.639 Given the high cost of war, however, Persian support helped the Athenians only briefly. Eventually, the flow of money from east to west came to a halt by the 380s at the latest, when the Peace of Antalcidas  was to make Persian interventions in Greece unnecessary in the future. Nevertheless, Athens still hoped for Persian gold until 340.640 In the 370s, another method of harnessing the money of foreign potentates became established. At least since this time, several commanders are known for whom it is not entirely clear when they actually sought close relations to foreign financiers on their own initiative in order to advance the cause of their fatherland, and when they hired themselves out as condottiere with a mercenary army to cover the pay.641A striking example is given by Iphicrates,642 who entered the service of different potentates with and without Athenian commission: thus he rendered service to the Thracian king Cotys, and was paid by being offered the hand of the  Isocr. Frg. 39 Thalheim: ἀδηϕάγοι τριήρεις.  There were also critical voices that condemned the high costs of war and preferred peace (Isocr. or. 8,19. Xen. vect. 3,8). See also above Sect. 2.4 note 540. 638  Aristoph. Plut. 370–373. Xen. hell. 3,5,1–2; 4,4,2; 4,8,9–11. Harpocr. s. v. ξενικὸν ἐν Κορίνθῳ. On this, see Pritchett (1971–1991) I 59–116. Austin (1994) 556–557. Heskel (1997) 124–125. 639  Lys. or. 33,5. Cf. also Lys. or. 19,24–26. – For example, in 394 Athens engaged a mercenary army of 3000–4000 men (Polyain. 3,9,57), partly financed with Persian money (Aristoph. Plut. 370–373. Xen. hell. 4,4,2. Harpocr. s. v. ξενικὸν ἐν Κορίνθῳ). And in the summer of 393 the satrap Pharnabazus sent to the Athenians eighty ships and fifty talents (Xen. hell. 4,8,8–10. Diod. 14,84,5). Burckhardt (1995) 111–112. 640  Demosth. or. 10,31. [Demosth.] or. 11,5–6. Isocr. or. 12,159. 641  Personal contacts were the decisive factor here; self-interest and advantages for the polis intertwined. Thus, for example, Andocides (2,11) reports that, thanks to his personal relationship with the Macedonian king Archelaus, he procured the wood for spare oars for the fleet on Samos and delivered them virtually at cost price. 642  See on this Davies (1971) no. 7737. Kallet (1983). Develin (1989) no. 1449. 636 637

128

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

latter’s sister and together with two cities.643 As a mercenary leader he committed himself to the satrap Pharnabazus on Athenian orders (374/3), but shortly afterwards commited himself, his hoplites and peltasts to Acarnanian cities.644 Chares presents a similar case: In the Social War, the Athenians received financial support from the rebellious satrap Artabazus for the services of Chares.645 Strictly speaking, Athens had “rented” the general and his troops to the rebellious satrap in 356646 in order to ease the strained financial situation and pay for the soldiers’ livelihood.647 Since “war is not satisfied with counted portions”648 and the costs of war were incalculable, the Athenians often sent their strategoi into the field with insufficient funds, so that the military leaders had to rely on either paying soldiers out of their own pockets, getting creative, or finding resources by force.649 Timotheus is a relatively well attested example,650 but other strategoi also found themselves in similar situations.651 In the Hellespont region in particular, where a busy trade route narrowed, additional revenue could be generated while also securing the grain route to Athens. Thrasybulus, for example, thanks to Athenian superiority at sea, had established a customs post on the Bosporos in 389, as had already existed during the Peloponnesian War. For three years, until the Peace of Antalcidas, Athens leased to the Byzantines the δεκάτη, the ten percent ship cutoms, on shiploads from the

 Demosth. or. 23,132.  Xen. hell. 4,2,37–38. Diod. 15,41,1–2. 15,42,4–5. 15,43,1–6. 645  Isocr. or. 4,142. 646  Gabrielsen (2007) 267. 647  Diod. 16,22,1–2. Demosth. or. 4,24. 648  Plut. Demosthenes 17,3: ου οὐ τεταγμένα σιτεῖται πόλεμος. cf. Plut. Crassus 2,8. mor. 190 a and 219 a. 649  Demosth. or. 2,28. 9,15. 23,171. [Demosth.] or. 7,21. Aristot. rhet. 1411 a 9–10. Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 158. Lib. arg. Demosthenes 7. 650  Timotheus was forced to take out several loans from Pasion. Two of these loans went directly into the maintenance of the fleet, the other two indirectly benefited the public treasury. Thus, the first loan was for the hospitable reception of two highranking personages, the Molossian king Alcetas and the tyrant Jason of Pherae. With the second loan he financed the transport of Macedonian timber which Amyntas had given him and which was needed for shipbuilding (Demosth. or. 49,6–8; 11–12; 44. Xen. hell. 6,2,11–12. Cf. also [Aristot.] oec. 2,2,23). Then, in 356/5, Timotheus had to answer for bribery (Din. 1,14 and 3,17). Hamel (1998) 135 and 155. See on Timotheus also Günther (2015). 651  Thus, Nausicles too had to pay his 2000 hoplites from his own means in 352 (Demosth. or. 18,114–115). Cf. also Demosth. or. 8,26: “For where else do you suppose that he looks for the maintenance of his troops, if he gets nothing from you and has no private fortune to furnish their pay? To the sky? No, indeed; it is from what he can collect or beg or borrow that he keeps things going.” 643 644

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

129

Pontos region.652 Likewise, Thrasybulus had reimposed the εἰκοστή, the five percent duty on all goods imported and exported by sea, on the Athenian allies.653 In addition, extortion, plunder, and loot sales654 had been routine at least since the end of the Social War. The capture of merchant ships in particular was a profitable method that easily made avaiable sums in the double-digit talent range.655 Moreover, as long as the Athenians were considered maritime protectors and superior to all others, they could also make some profit from the reverse case, by allowing merchants to leave only against payment656 or by having Athenian triremes escort merchant ships into the Piraeus.657 The ships of other poleis or merchants were allowed to buy their way into the convoy with a fee.658 The prestige of these ad hoc generated revenues understandably varied depending on perspective. Even Demosthenes did not shy away from putting forward such situational solutions as quite natural in his war speeches,659 for example by assessing the capture of foreign ships as a σύλη – and thus a legitimate method.660 It only became problematic when strategoi appeared to be embezzling public funds. Unlike Rome’s republican commanders, who could easily enrich themselves from the spoils of war, in Athens the money thus brought in was considered public revenue661 and declared by the demos to be reserved for war purposes.662 The strategoi kept records of such revenues, rendered accounts,663 and handed over surpluses to the proper officials.664 Generals who appeared to misuse such income for their

 Xen. hell. 4,8,27 and 31. Demosth. or. 20,60. Migeotte (2014a) 546.  The port customs are attested for Thasos (IG II2 24 a l. 1–6) and Klazomenai (IKlazomenai 502 = IG II2 28 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 18). The reintroduction of the eikoste testifies to the fact that Athens organized its relationship with the allied cities on the basis of the maritime treaties of the fifth century. See Funke (1980a) 155 with note 83 and 157 note 90. 654  Extortion: Aeschin. 2,71–72. Demosth. or. 8,24–26. Plunder: Isocr. or. 15,111–112. Polyain. 3,10,9. Loot: Xen. hell. 6,2,36. Diod. 15,47,7. Nep. Timotheus 1. – The material is collected in Pritchett (1971–1991) V 381 and 385–387. 655  Diotimus, for example, collected from naukleroi and emporoi a larger, unknown sum, of which he embezzled forty talents (Lys. or. 19,50). 656  [Demosth.] or. 8,9 and 24–26. 657  [Demosth.] or. 50,17. 658  Demosth. or. 8,24–25. 21,167. [Demosth.] or. 50,20. IG II2 408. 1623 l. 276–280. 1628 l. 37–42. 659  Demosth. or. 4,29. 660  Cf. for example Demosth. or. 24: Athens had sent an envoy to Mausolus. The delegates seized a ship from Naucratis. The ship was towed into Piraeus and the cargo declared state property. See Bravo (1980). – In contrast, the term λῃστεία, which clearly had negative connotations as robbery, remained reserved for the enemy. Thus Demosthenes (or. 10,34) referred to the Macedonian Philip II as λῃστής. With the same term Xenophon (hell. 6,4,35) attributed Alexander of Pherae. On this, see de Souza (1999) 33–34. 36–39. 241. 661  Lys. or. 28,1–4; 6; 10 and 29,2; 5; 8–11. Xen. hell. 1,2,4–5. Demosth. or. 24,11–14. 662  Lys. or. 28,5–6. Demosth. or. 8,9 and 21,3. Diod. 16,57,2–3. See Pritchett (1971–1991) I 87–90. Hamel (1998) 44–46. 663  Hamel (1998) 158. Taylor (2001a, b) 61. 664  Lys. or. 28,6. Demosth. or. 20,17–80. See Fröhlich (2000). 652 653

130

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

purposes, on the other hand, were liable to prosecution and severe punishment.665 Even though proceedings against strategoi were commonplace,666 however, only a few cases are known that were explicitly related to the misuse of funds acquired in the field. Convictions were not too frequent, because on the one hand it was difficult to control commanders operating far away667 and on the other hand it was not always possible to draw a clear distinction between the public and private spheres.668 This was tolerated: events in the fourth century give the impression that fleet operations were conducted for their own sake and that strategically sensible operations alternated669 with pure raids – even though the two need not be mutually exclusive: Looting could be applied as a military tool to terrorize and wear down the enemy.670 All in all, extortions, plunder and loot sales brought more money from outside into the coffers than in the fifth century.671 These revenues, incalculable and arbitrary as they were, exceeded even the contributions from the Second Athenian

 In the, as Demosthenes (or. 19,180) points out, probable case of a conviction the accused had to expect the death penalty. Hansen (1995) 225 – Only exceptionally did the convicted get off more lightly, such as Iphicrates, who was released, and Timotheus, who was fined 100 talents (Isocr. or. 15,129). Hansen (1975) nos. 100–102 and (1995) 224. 666  Demosth. or. 4.47. – On average, two of the ten strategoi faced eisangelia proceedings each year. Sinclair (1988) 146–152. Hansen (1995) 224–226. Hamel (1998) 130–132. – The generals’ fear of denunciations was therefore not entirely unfounded. Cf. for example Thuc. 1,49,4. 3,98,5. 7,48,4–5. Diod. 15,31,1. Hamel (1998) 118. 667  Thus, in 380/79 Ergocles was executed because he had accepted dora and stolen war revenues. Lys. or. 28,1–2; 11 and 29,2; 5; 11. Hamel (1998) 148. 668  Cf. the case of Timotheus above note 651. 669  Thrasybulus and Ergocles made the Hellespont and the southern coast of Asia Minor unsafe in 389/8. Thrasybulus had extorted protection money from Aspendos, but still had not prevented at least parts of his soldiers from plundering the country (Diod. 14,99,4. Xen. hell. 4,8,25–30. Lys. or. 28,2 and 5–8). Pritchett (1971–1991) I 50–51 and II 101–102. – Isocrates (or. 15,111) reports several similar cases: Chabrias brought more than 110 talents and 3000 prisoners to Athens after the battle of Naxos (376), and Iphicrates, on his campaign in the years between 373 and 372, pocketed sixty talents from the sale of defeated enemies into slavery and charged the Cephalenians money to provide for the men of his seventy ships. When Timotheus, without sufficient means, sailed against Samos in 366, he financed his 8000 peltasts and thirty triremes out of booty. Nothing else was left to Chares, who sacked Corcyra (360) and Sestos (353). In 343/2 the Athenians sent Diopeithes to the Thracian Chersonesus to establish cleruchies there. At the same time, the strategos was to disrupt – or did so on his own authority, tolerated by Athens, advocated by Demosthenes and the Macedonian opponents – the Macedonian conquest of Thrace through operations in the North Aegean (Xen. hell. 5,4,61. 6,2,33; 6,2,35–36 and 38. Diod. 15,34,3–35,2. 15,47,7. 15,95,3. 16,34. 16,57,2–3. Demosth. or. 8,21–29 and 20,77. [Demosth.] or. 12,3. Polyain. 3,9,55. 3,10,9). 670  Thus Demosthenes (or. 4,29), in his explanations of how the armed forces could be financed in a war against Philip II, suggests that the pay would only have to be raised proportionally by the city; the remaining pay could be secured by the soldiers through raids. Accordingly, the Athenian armies were to plunder the seaside cities and capture merchant ships during the summer months (Demosth. or. 4,32). – Cf. on the passage Pritchett (1971–1991) I 21. 671  Gabrielsen (2007) 270. 665

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

131

League, which Athens had established in 378/7.672 Athens initially set itself apart from the power-political practices of the fifth century – not least to conform to the Peace of Antalcidas.673 Hence tribute (φόροι) was initially dispensed with, but from 373 onwards674 efforts were made to convince the allies of the necessity of contributions (συντάξεις)675 which were to be used solely for the maintenance of warships and which went through a two-stage authorization procedure (synhedrion and Athenian assembly).676 The facts that the tributes of the allies ultimately were only relabeled,677 and that the Athenians successively set in motion the old mechanisms for forcibly making unwilling-to-pay poleis share the maritime costs,678 were among the reasons why Chios, Rhodes, and Cos allied themselves with Mausolus in 357, and shortly afterward Byzantion and Perinthos also joined the defected allies.679 The Social War was costly, short-lived, and ended with the withdrawal of important poleis. After all, with the syntaxeis Athens had managed to tap into an external source of finance for 35 years. Each year, thus about sixty talents were available,680 which was about half the standard pay of twenty ships during a shipping season.681 After the Social War, without the main islands such as Chios, Rhodes, or Kerkyra, only a total of forty-five talents ended up in the hands of the military commanders.682 It becomes clear that such financing of the fleet, largely based on ad hoc revenues, was only sufficient until an equal opponent emerged. For securing the grain route against piracy or for asserting the claim to naval supremacy against smaller or less ambitious poleis, unsound fleet financing was sufficient; in this context, it also made sense to undertake war campaigns that financed themselves – without serious ambitions for conquest.683 Such a strategy was bound to fail, however, when a power would came into play that waged war to take possession of territories and that, on top of that, was capable of deploying many resources permanently.  IG II2 43 = HGIÜ 215 = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 22. Diod. 15.28–29. See on the Second Athenian League Cargill (1981). Horsley (1982). Dreher (1995). Hochschulz (2007) 71–127. 673  This included, among other things, that Athenians were not allowed to acquire land in the allied poleis, to settle cleruchs, to install crews, or to send officials (IG II2 43 l. 19–23). 674  IG II2 43 l. 23. Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 98. 675  Demosth. or. 18,234. [Demosth.] or. 49,49. 50,53. Brun (1983) 91–93. 676  IG II2 123. Plut. Phokion 7,1–2. See Hochschulz (2007) 76–77 on the differences between phoroi and syntaxeis. 677  Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 98. 678  IG II2 111 l. 12–14. Isocr. or. 8,36 and 29. 15,123. 679  One of the decisive factors was that the treaty concluded with Sparta in 369 and the symmachy at the battle of Mantineia against Thebes ran counter to the anti-Spartan objective of the league. 680  Aeschin. 2,71. Demosth. or. 18,234. On the fluctuating level of contributions see Brun (1983) 74–142. 681  See Table 2.6 above. 682  Demosth. or. 18,234. 683  The extent to which naval supremacy and revenues from Athens’ superior position of power were mutually dependent is exemplified by the fact that in 342/1 the Athenians fined the Melians, who allowed pirates to use their port facilities, ten talents ([Demosth.] or. 58,53–56). 672

132

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

And one thing more becomes clear: as already in the fifth century, so also in the fourth century a fleet of, say, 120684 or 170 ships685 could not be manned exclusively by Athenians for demographic reasons alone, especially if citizens were in the field at the same time.686 Even if ships were not fully crewed, and even if only the regular smaller contingents of forty to fifty ships were used, the thetes687 could hardly provide the 8–10,000 rowers needed.688 Perhaps the allied poleis of the Second Athenian League (as before in the Delian League) sent further rowers. What is certain is that hired slaves and mercenaries recruited on the “labor market” were frequently used in the fourth century.689 That is, Athens drew considerable self-confidence from its fleet, but could not man the ships with citizens alone. Thus, the ideal of “political rights for military contribution to the defense of the community” had fully exceeded its limits. The fleet was still seen as a symbol of the democratically constituted polis and formed the heart of the Athenian war machine, but discourse and practice diverged.690 Criticizing this was apparently unpopular, since, first, citizen rowers still served on the triremes and, second, the assembly, as a decision-making body, understood that a fleet could not be continuously staffed with merchants, craftsmen, or peasants. Third, the problem of finding suitable rowers was outsourced to such an extent that its management was left to the strategoi and the trierarchs. Thus it was removed from the responsibility of the community and became a matter for individuals. A similar tendency was also noticeable in the diplomatic field.

2.4.4 Diplomatic Expenditure The complex constellations of foreign policy made frequent embassies seem necessary – both in the first half of the fourth century when efforts were made to achieve a balance-of-power policy, and then again increasingly after the Social War as a result of the reorientation of foreign policy.691At least 65 delegations were sent on

 Such is attested for the year 356: Demosth. or. 18,107–108. 51, 11 and 15. [Demosth.] or. 50,11–12; 14–16 and 23. 685  Diod. 18,15,8. 686  A fleet of 120 ships required 24,000 men, which would mean that in the fourth century all citizens had to be mobilized as rowers. 170 ships, on the other hand, required 34,000 men. If one calculates with 9000 hoplites as in the Lamian War, who served in the land army at the same time, then the sum far exceeds the number of citizens of 20–30,000 men assumed for the fourth century. For population figures, see above Fig. 2.1. 687  See Sect. 2.4.2 above. 688  Burckhardt (1995) 122. 689  Difficulty manning ships: Xen. hell. 6,2,12–13. [Demosth.] or. 50,7. – Desertion: Demosth. or. 18,107–108. 51,11. [Demosth.] or. 50,11–12; 14–16 and 23.  – Mercenaries: [Demosth.] or. 50,18. Baker (1999). See on slaves as rowers Welwei (1974) 65–104. Eich (2006) 331–333. 690  On the relationship between democracy and naval supremacy in political communication, see Schmidt-Hofner (2014) 639–641. 691  P. E. Harding (1988) and (1995). 684

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

133

their way in the period between 403 and 307 (see Fig. 2.2); in light of the patchy tradition a higher frequency of diplomatic efforts can be assumed.692 An instructive case is presented by the embassies to Philip II. At the beginning of the year 346, the Athenians sent ten envoys to the Macedonian royal court, among them Aeschines, Demosthenes and Philocrates. Only after two or three months did they return. After the peace treaty, to which Philocrates lent his name, had been discussed in the ekklesia in mid-April, almost the same legation traveled to Philip II again to have the treaty sworn to and ratified. Philip II, however, did not appear at his residence in Pella until June 346. For their absence of 69 days, the ten envoys received a total of 1000 drachmas (i.e. 100 drachmas each) in advance, which was roughly equivalent to 9 obols per day for transport, board, and lodging.693 The amount was set relatively low compared to the other allowances, even though two drachmas constituted the usual expense allowance,694 which was increased by half a drachma by 325.695 Accordingly, the expenditures for individual diplomatic missions were manageable: the nineteen cases collected by Loomis for disbursements on the occasion of religious and diplomatic journeys of the period of interest here range from 20 to 1000 drachmas.696 However, legations sometimes travelled to more than one polis, as attested, for example, for the call to join the Second Athenian League or in preparation for the major conflicts with Macedonia.697 The diplomatic efforts at the

 See the list of Athenian legations in Kienast (1974) 595–618, especially 599–611 for the period 403–307. 693  Demosth. or. 19,158. On the travel money see the overview in Kienast (1974) 578–581. 694  Since the delegation took much longer than originally planned, it can be inferred from a comparison with similar cases that approximately two drachmas per day were scheduled for each member. For a discussion, see Loomis (1998) 213–214.  – On costs, see generally the lists in Boeckh (1886) I 303–304. Loomis (1998) 203–219. 695  Loomis (1998) 219. 696  Ibid, his nos. 8–22 and 26. – In addition to these personal expenses, the polis expended further funds for diplomatic purposes. Thus, for embassies and for the transmission of messages, public aviso-ships were available, which were particularly fast and well equipped. During the Social War, in 357/6, for example, twelve talents were used for the Paralos (Demosth. or. 21,174). 697  The number of envoys varied and was not fixed in terms of arche or other traditions. Neither the importance of the mission nor the trustworthiness of the appointees seems to have significantly influenced the number of members, although the Athenians tended to send either three or ten delegates on missions. The deciding factor in the number of men appointed was the views expressed in public discourse. See Mosley (1965) and (1970), who assumes that the more homogeneous the interests represented in the group, the more the size of the group could be limited. Contra Briant (1968). – See also the overview in Mosley (1965) 257–260: fourteen embassies of three, eleven of ten delegates, and seven consisting of five men. – Athens was the only polis to regularly entrust diplomatic tasks to five or ten persons, while in Sparta three-person legations were preferred, although not exclusively. Mosley (1965) 256–257, who lists two exceptions (Diod. 12,75,4 and 14,17,5). In contrast, delegations consisting of two, three, or four men are known from other poleis, even though groups of three were the rule. Mosley (1965) 260–261. On the question of the size of Athenian legations in general, see Mosley (1965), (1970) and (1973) 55–57. Kienast (1974) 537–539. 692

134

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

Number of provable legations in the period 403 to 307 0

1

2

403 402 401 400 399 398 397 396 395 394 393 392 391 390 389 388 387 386 385 384 383 382 381 380 379 378 377 376 375 374 373 372 371 370 369 368 367 366 365 364 363 362 361 360 359 358 357 356 355 354 353 352 351 350 349 348 347 346 345 344 343 342 341 340 339 338 337 336 335 334 333 332 331 330 329 328 327 326 325 324 323 322 321 320 319 318 317 316 315 314 313 312 311 310 309 308 307

Fig. 2.2  Number of delegations between 403 and 307

3

4

5

2.4  The Polis as a Military Community

135

outbreak of the Lamian War are revealing698: while on the one hand Athenian envoys directly solicited support on the Peloponnese, Leosthenes on the other hand acted relatively independently and contacted Aitolians, Phocians and Lokrians, Acarnanias, Molossians, Illyrians, and Thracians.699 Since only round sums – the attested amounts range from ten to one hundred drachmas, most frequently twenty drachmas are attested700  – have (mainly) been handed down in inscriptions,701 it is obvious that the travel expenses were not assessed precisely, but that a payment that seemed appropriate was arranged on a case-by-case basis.702 Accordingly, no precise accounting was provided, which is why only financially independent persons could afford to travel, sometimes even for several months, and leave their domestic affairs to others703; poverty thus constituted a reason for not accepting the election as envoy.704 This corresponds to the general trend of delegating the problem of underfunding to well-off members of the elite. Two other factors reinforced this seemingly undemocratic tendency. First, the “average” citizen, even if he could afford the honorable mission, was excluded from these tasks, since in addition to economic suitability, diplomacy-specific qualifications, such as experience, foreign connections, and political competence, limited the selection of suitable persons.705 On the other hand, secret diplomatic negotiations bypassing the ekklesia were probably also financed from a kind of “slush fund”.706 The question then arises as to who arranged this. Only those persons can be considered who had access to such funds and were in a position to initiate diplomatic intercourse – persons who saw themselves as “natural” representatives of Athens

 Diod. 18,10,2.  O. Schmitt (1992) 80–81. 700  See the list in Kienast (1974) 578–579: ten drachmas were given to the delegation to the allies (in 357; Tod (1968) II no. 153). – Twenty drachms: Legation to Amyntas (in 375; Tod (1968) II no. 129), to Karystos on Euboea or to Eretria, Chalkis as well as Hestiaia (in 357; Tod (1968) II no. 153) and to Thessaly for the taking of oaths (in 361; Bengtson (1975) II 293 l.40–41). – Thirty drachmas: Legation to Aetolia (in 367; Tod (1968) II no. 137 B l.s 10–11).  – Fifty drachmas: Legation to Orontes of Mysia (in 349/8; Bengtson (1975) II 324 l. 24), to Heraclea (in 325; Syll.3 304 l. 44). – One hundred drachmas: Legation to Philip II. (in the year 346; Demosth. or. 19.158). 701  Even though ancient authors generally tended to round numbers up or down, there do not seem to be any conventions of tradition here. For, firstly, the sums were paid in advance. Secondly, the amounts are almost exclusively documented epigraphically. Here, however, the obligation arose to state the sums precisely. 702  Kienast (1974) 578. 703  Cf. also the list of envoys from the years between 360 and 322 in Sundwall (1906) 59–62. 704  Kienast (1974) 543. 705  In addition, people who were familiar with or traditionally associated with the particular issue were often selected. Mosley (1965) 265. 706  Andreades (1931) 240. On this “slush fund”, see the next note. 698 699

136

2  Realized Choices: Public Finances as a Reflection of Athenian Self-Understanding

without being legitimized for this by a selection procedure. Demosthenes, it seems, in the 340s and 330s counted himself among them.707

2.5 Results If one sums up the nature of Athens’ expenditures and revenues, it becomes apparent that the Athenians felt themselves in a specific way to be a political, religious, and military community of fate. Military expenditure was clearly the major item. This does not mean, however, that war was the Athenians’ top priority; rather, all expenditures served different aspects of their self-image. Thus, each year the fleet devoured more than the public institutions, and yet it was certainly no more significant than the assembly, council, courts, and magistrates combined. The amount of money spent thus only gives an impression of how important one or another project seemed to the majority of Athenians, but it offers no starting point for hierarchizing the individual items of expenditure. In addition to this negative finding, four other important results can be noted. First, to an astonishing degree, the citizens did not base their decisions purely egoistically on the expected gains or losses, but decided following their democratic convictions – although the two could of course go hand in hand. Thus the pay of officials, council members, and jurors was reintroduced and even extended to the assembly members to achieve the participation of all citizens. Even if the allowance was not enough to support a family, it was more than just a symbolic gesture: it also made it materially clear that the Athenians were willing to make participation possible for all economic classes and to minimize financial hurdles as much as possible. Participation, especially in the assembly, was so important because it created the space to receive information, interpret it, and attach collective meaning to it. In these moments, citizens oriented themselves to what was perceived as most useful for the community. The fact that decisions were nevertheless argued over, alternatives perceived and judged differently, is fundamental to this opinion-forming process. Accordingly, the Athenians had developed a political culture in which orientation towards the common good was superior to and contained all individual egoism – or, formulated in terms of the New Institutional Economics708: Democracy had become not only a formal institution designed to last but also a socially  Thus, for example, the Harpalus affair is to be interpreted in such a way that Demosthenes did not claim the funds of Harpalus for himself, but collected them for the benefit of the polis in a “slush fund” which he then disposed of. Din. 1,10 and 18. Aeschin. 3,239. G. A. Lehmann (2004) 211. – Since Pericles there was, if it was not simply a matter of bribery in the documented cases, this “slush fund”. Naturally, very little is known of it, since this fund was smuggled past the demos and thus out of institutional control and away from the public eye. The name of the fund remained obviously undefined; the expenditure was called, at least in the vernacular, εἰς τὸ δέον (“for the necessary”). Cf. Aristoph. Nub. 858–859 on Pericles. Plut. Pericles 23,1. Ephoros FGrHist 70 F 193 (= Schol. Aristoph. Nub. 859). On this episode and the accusation of bribery, see Blösel (2004) 166–167. The phrase εἰς τὸ δέον even became a proverb (Zenob. 3,91). 708  On the concept of the New Institutional Economics, see the introduction to this chapter. 707

2.5 Results

137

constructed mental pattern that predetermined the range of choices and limited alternative courses of action. Athenian democracy thus meant not only a specific constitution that assumed the political equality of all, but it standardized norms of behavior, values, as well as moral concepts, and thus also determined the interaction of individuals  – at least in the assembly, in the council, or the court  – with one another. What was called democracy was also what was defined as being just – and vice versa: What was just could also be called democratic. Democracy had become a moral standard and had freed itself from a formally political meaning of the word. The decisive events in this development were the oligarchic coups: Since the restoration of democracy, there was no constitutional alternative. This view was passed on from generation to generation by reference to the past, acquired through socialization, and practiced in various situations in which the collective could be experienced. Democracy in its various semantic facets thus formed the core and point of orientation of Athenian self-understanding. Secondly, this does not mean that Athenian democracy remained rigidly in old structures. The opposite was the case. By making “democracy” and “democratic” synonymous with “legitimate constitution” and “legitimate”, changes could be instigated. Some of these modifications would have seemed unthinkable as late as the fifth century, either because they placed limits on the sovereignty of the assembly, such as the introduction of nomothesia, or because they would have been considered oligarchic, such as the Areopagus’ expansions of authority. Third, especially in the military sphere, it is evident that the polis community left the solution of financial problems to individuals. The result was a mixing of private and public resources. The notion that the property of the polis was the property of individual citizens was as old as the polis itself. But now it extended familiar practices outside those areas traditionally financed by liturgies. In this way, the polis community not only relinquished responsibility but also created dependencies. In this way, public tasks could only be taken on by members of the economic and social elite, despite allowances that were supposed to keep participation opportunities open to all citizens. Fourthly, the precise overview of public revenues and expenditures makes it clear, on the one hand, that revenues from trade, mining, and metoikia roughly covered civil expenditures. On the other hand, it reveals the complexity of Athenian finances. In this respect, the introduction of the μερισμός in the 380s marked a decisive step, as the management of public finances came closer to the budgetary principle, thus enabling – and necessitating – planning. From the 370s onwards, the tendency to use the available resources more effectively can be discerned, especially in the military sphere. By now, at the latest, politicians required special knowledge to ensure factually sound advice in this political-administrative field.

3

The Counterexample: Sparta

The peculiarity of the Athenian revenue and expenditure structure and the mentality on which it was based only gain profile when compared with that of other poleis. However, due to the sources available, such an in-depth analysis as was undertaken for Athens is not feasible for other Greek polities. Sparta is the most suitable for this task since we here have a polity that differs so deeply from Athens in political, social, economic, and environmental terms that the respective characteristics stand out clearly despite the difficult situation concerning the sources.1 Nevertheless, a close look at Sparta illustrates sufficiently clearly how the handling of public finances was oriented towards the specifically Spartan self-image.

 In the following, “Sparta” refers to both the community of the Lacedaemonians and the polis of Sparta, in accordance with ancient usage. The adjective “Spartan” in this context describes the financial circumstances of the Spartiates and those of the community of the Lacedaemonians dominated by Sparta, which was composed of the polis of the Spartiates and the poleis of the perioeci. On the perioeci, see below Sect. 3.4 with the literature cited there in note 171. For the ancient terminology and its historical implications, see Hall (2000), esp. 77–79, and especially Ducat (2010). 1

© Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Rohde, From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5_3

139

140

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

3.1 The Thucydidean Legacy: The Source Situation So far, research in ancient history has rarely paid attention to public finances.2 In contrast, the private handling of money has been well studied.3 Revising earlier idealizations, such research led to two main findings: Spartan society was characterized by great disparities of property ownership while forming mechanisms to minimize the political influence of wealth.4 Already in antiquity, the restrictions on the individual use of wealth also shaped the assessment of public finances. The basic tenor here is that Sparta was a poor polis whose financing system functioned insufficiently.5 It is not surprising that the author, in whom the first starting points for the later idealization of a simple lifestyle applicable to all Spartans and the disdain for displayed wealth can be identified,6 also critically assessed the publicly available means: In the speech delivered at the beginning of the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides has Archidamus give the assembled Spartans some far-sighted advice.7 In order to warn against entering war immediately, the king essentially points to two premises that are crucial to the war: money and ships.8 Athens was experienced in  Andreades (1931) 39–80 alone undertook a comprehensive examination of Sparta’s public revenues and expenditures. Although Hodkinson (2000) and Thommen (2014) also touch on the area of public finance several times, modern handbooks lack a treatment of this complex of topics. Representative examples are Lévy (2003), Thommen (2003a), Welwei (2004) and Kennell (2010). Exceptions are Kahrstedt (1922) 331–342, Michell (1964) 308–314, and Cozzoli (1979) 120–122, each of which provides a summary overview. 3  After a tradition going back to antiquity of seeing economic egalitarianism or even communism realized in Sparta, scholarly debate also turned to private property. On economic egalitarianism and communitarianism in the reception history of Sparta and their foundations in ancient literature, see Hodkinson (2000) 9–64 and Christesen (2004). On property and the role of private wealth, see the fundamental study by Hodkinson (2000). 4  Cf. in detail Hodkinson (2000) 209–368. 5  The source situation seems to confirm this at first sight: In contrast to Athens, the extensive documentation of tributes of the allies, liturgies and monetary levies (εἰσφοραί) or of sums stored as state treasure in the temple of Athena on the Acropolis is missing. 6  Cf. Thuc. 1,6,4. Herodotus, on the other hand, did not yet know any difference between the economic conditions in Sparta and in other Greek poleis  – neither in the private nor in the public handling of money. Hodkinson (2000) 19–21. 7  The characterization of Archidamus is given weight above all by the juxtaposition with the ephor Sthenelaidas, who speaks out in favor of war with Athens directly after Archidamus (Thuc. 1,86): While Thucydides (1,79,2) portrays Archidamus as an intelligent and prudent man, there is no corresponding positive evaluation of his opponent Sthenelaidas, who urges immediate action. Cf. also Westlake’s (1968) 125 judgment: “Consequently Archidamus seems to be credited with statesmanship of almost Periclean quality, an estimate incompatible with his subsequent record as a warleader.” See also Wassermann (1953) and (1964) 290–291. Bloedow (1981) and (1983). Allison (1984). Bloedow (1987). Debnar (2001) 69–76. Hagmaier (2008) 144–154; 158–160. 8  These two factors undoubtedly constitute the strength of Athens, which is why νῆες and χρήματα also formed the central points in the third Corinthian speech (Thuc. 1,120–124) and in the first Periclean speech (Thuc. 1,140–144). For Thucydides, even otherwise, the wealth of cities and the building of a fleet belonged directly together. See his “Archaeology” (Thuc. 1,2–19, especially 1,13) and Hornblower (1991–2008) I 9. Kallet-Marx (1993) 21–36. Schulz (2011). 2

3.1  The Thucydidean Legacy: The Source Situation

141

naval warfare, both privately and publicly wealthy, and had tribute-paying allies. In contrast, Sparta possessed no comparable fleet,9 nor any corresponding funds: “we have none in a common treasury, and we are never willing to contribute out of our private means.”10 But without money to maintain ships, the allies who had fallen away from Athens – the largest Athenian source of revenue – could not be protected.11 One should therefore not be carried away by the euphoria of war, but only dare a confrontation with the Athenians after an armament period of two to three years.12 The time of threats and skirmishes should be used to win symmachoi and to raise money.13 Only when Sparta had sufficient means would there be a chance of defeating Athens, for: “and war is not an affair of arms, but of money which gives to arms their use, and which is needed above all things when a landed army is fighting against a maritime power.”14 Accordingly, the lack of money was Sparta’s greatest deficit, which needed to be remedied.15 The words that Thucydides puts into Archidamos’ mouth from hindsight16  – almost as a literary warning figure17 – are taken up by Pericles in his speech before the assembly.18 Here, too, the author has the Athenian statesman cite as a decisive advantage of the Athenians in the discussion of the δυνατόν19 that there was “no wealth either public or private”20 in the hands of the Peloponnesians.21 The  Thuc. 1,80,3.  Thuc. 1,80,4 : οὔτε ἐν κοινῷ ἔχομεν οὔτε ἑτοίμως ἐκ τῶν ἰδίων φέρομεν. On the translation of ἑτοίμως in the sense of “with ease” and not “willingly, gladly,” see also J. Classen (1897) 193 (on the passage) and Gomme (1945–1956) I 247 (on the passage). – On the speech of Archidamus (Thuc. 1,80–85), see Gomme (1945–1956) I 246–251. H.  F. Harding (1973) 32–36. Edmunds (1975) 94–97. Cogan (1981) 30–33. Hornblower (1991–2008) I 107–108; 125–130. Kallet-Marx (1993) 80–89. Debnar (2001) 59–69. Hagmaier (2008) 119–144.  – On the speeches in the Thucydidean work, see his own methodological justification (Thuc. 1,22,1) and on this Gomme (1945–1956) I 140–141. Egermann (1972). Edmunds (1975) 166–169. Scardino (2007) 402–410. 11  Thuc. 1,81,3–4. 12  Thuc. 1,82,1–3. 13  Thuc. 1,82,1. 14  Thuc. 1,83,2. 15  Thuc. 1,83.3. 16  Even if Thucydides began recording with the start of the war (1,1,1), he was editing his speeches (1,22,1). Also, as an adult, Thucydides experienced the entire war, the total duration of which he knew (5,26,4–5). 17  Hornblower (1991–2008) I 125. 18  Thu., 1,140–144. See Gomme (1945–1956) I 453–464. H. F. Harding (1973) 45–51. Edmunds (1975) 7–36. Cogan (1981) 36–39. Hornblower (1991–2008) I 226–231. Kallet-Marx (1993) 93–96. Hagmaier (2008) 198–233. 19  Hagmaier (2008) 210. 20  Thuc. 1,141,3. 21  Pericles elaborates this argument in various turns: The Spartans were not used to large-scale wars, but their warlike activities were limited to short border wars because of their poverty (Thuc. 1,141,3). 9

10

142

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

prospects of victory would be good for the Athenians, since their opponents had no reserves and the direct levies (εἰσφοραί) would be insufficient.22 Pericles, therefore, draws the same conclusion as Archidamus: “Their greatest difficulty will be want of money, which they can only provide slowly; delay will thus occur, and war waits for no man.”23 Accordingly, the availability of financial means for Thucydides is the decisive factor for war par excellence.24 This results in the argumentative strategy of the two speeches for or against entering the war: Archidamus advises against a confrontation with Athens and therefore emphasizes Sparta’s inferiority in the sense of a ἀποτροπή-topos25; Pericles advocates war against Sparta and spends most of his speech pointing out the ἀχρηματία as the Spartans’ greatest weakness.26 The image of Sparta as a poor polis is thus the result of a stylistic exaggeration that corresponds to the land-power vs. sea-power opposition, which in the same way proves to be a pointed construction.27 The author tries to draw an unpromising starting position for Sparta – lack of financial resources and no fleet – to make it clear to the reader that Athens could and should have won the war. The depiction of Spartan lack of money and lack of a fleet is, therefore, a literary device and determined by direct comparison with Athens: According to Thucydides, the exceptionally wealthy Athens had 6000 talents in its treasury.28

 Thuc. 1,141,5.  Thuc. 1,142,1: μέγιστον δέ, τῇ τῶν χρημάτων σπάνει κωλύσονται, ὅταν σχολῇ αὐτὰ ποριζόμενοι διαμέλλωσιν τοῦ δὲ πολέμου οἱ καιροὶ οὐ μενετοί. 24  The general validity of this fact is emphasized by the use of a γνώμη. Hagmaier (2008) 212. It is true that the ephor Sthenelaidas – with parodic echoes of the Archidamus speech, according to Hagmaier (2008) 160 – assesses Sparta’s resources quite differently (Thuc. 1,86,3): “Others may have money and ships and horses, but we have brave allies […].” But this does not contradict the statement that for Thucydides the availability of financial means was the decisive factor in the war. Because for Thucydides Archidamus is a clever man, while Sthenelaidas is characterized by the historian as a rhetorician appealing to the emotions of his listeners (cf. also the vote he conducted as ephor Thuc. 1,87,2). See also above note 7 and on the mode of voting Flaig (1993). 25  Hagmaier (2008) 122–124. 26  Ibid. 198–215. 27  Even though Sparta had little experience, its maritime weakness was by no means as pronounced as Thucydides suggests to the reader. Sparta, together with her symmachoi, possessed a fleet of at least 147, perhaps as many as 160–170 ships at the beginning of the war. Th. Kelly (1979) especially 247. 28  Thuc. 2,13,3. In total, Athens had as much as 10,000 talents at its disposal for the war. Hornblower (1991–2008) I 253–254. Malitz (2008) 30. See on Athens’ financial resources on the eve of the Peloponnesian War Kallet-Marx (1993) 96–108. Meister (2008). 22 23

3.1  The Thucydidean Legacy: The Source Situation

143

The second explicit ancient statement on the financial organization of Sparta comes from Aristotle. In his analysis of Spartan conditions,29 he ends by referring to the poor financial situation.30 It is striking that Aristotle adopts almost verbatim the Thucydidean characterization.31 From the speech of Archidamus, Aristotle takes up the phrase that the Spartans had no money,32 but he adds: […] the Spartiates pay war taxes badly because, as most of the land is owned by them, they do not scrutinize each other’s contributions. And the lawgiver has achieved the opposite result to what is advantageous—he has made the state poor and the individual citizen covetous.33

The logic of the first sentence is far from compelling; private land ownership cannot in itself serve as an argument that Spartan financial organization functioned inadequately. Whether the Spartans were indeed unreliable eisphora-payers and organized their public finances inadequately is a matter for consideration below. However, there is much to suggest that Aristotle did not know Sparta from his own experience and that his condamning verdict should not be given unqualified credence. For Aristotle’s reasoning, “ as most of the land is owned by them,” rather shows his biased interest in Spartan property relations, which also gave rise to detailed criticism elsewhere in his Politics.34 Here Aristotle seems to have been influenced by the philosophical judgment of Plato, who considered it a  See on Aristotle’s criticism of the Spartan constitution Holzinger (1893). Ollier (1933–1943) I 294–326. Cloché (1942). Braun (1956). Tigerstedt (1965–1978) I 280–304. Rawson (1969) 72–80. de Laix (1974). David (1982/83). Herrmann-Otto (1998). Aristotle treated Sparta in a differentiated way: On the one hand, he praised the Spartan politeia as a mixed constitution; on the other, he was by no means sparing in his criticism. 30  Aristot. pol. 1271 b 10–17 . 31  Thuc. 1,80,4: οὔτε ἐν κοινῷ τῆς πóλεως ἔχομεν. οὔτε ἑτοίμως ἐκ τῶν ἰδίων φέρομεν. Aristot. pol. 1271 b 11–13: οὔτε γὰρ ἐν τῷ κοινῷ τῆς πόλεως ἔστιν οὐδὲν πολέμους μεγάλους ἀναγκαζομένοις πολεμεῖν, εἰσφέρουσί τε κακῶς. The literal adoption is shown in Thucydides’ use of οὔτε…οὔτε, with which Aristotle also opens, but which lacks the second, corresponding οὔτε, in place of which the construction with οὐδέν takes its place. Although Thucydides does not have the determining of the purpose “when they are compelled to wage great wars,” this difference is explained by the situational context. While Archidamus’ speech takes a stand against a war against Athens, Aristotle has to make the logical connection explicit by referring to a μέγας πόλεμος. 32  Again, an echo of Thuc. 1,80,4 . 33  Aristot. pol. 1271 b 13–17: διὰ γὰρ τὸ τῶν Σπαρτιατῶν εἶναι τὴν πλείστην γῆν οὐκ ἐξετάζουσιν ἀλλήλων τὰς εἰσϕοράς. ἀποβέβηκέ τε τοὐναντίον τῷ νομοθέτῃ τοῦ συμϕέροντος: τὴν μὲν γὰρ πόλιν πεποίηκεν ἀχρήματον, τοὺς δ᾽ ἰδιώτας ϕιλοχρημάτους. 34  Aristot. pol. 1270 a 15–1270 b 6. Thus, along with helotage, women, population structure, and the educational system, property relations constitute one of the five problem areas that Aristotle subjects to scrutiny within his critique of society. See Herrmann-Otto (1998) 22–25 (helotage); 25–27 (Spartan women); 27–29 (property distribution); 29–32 (population structure); 33–34 (educational system). 29

144

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

characteristic of oligarchic people not to want to pay taxes (εἰσφέρειν) out of greed for money.35 Although Aristotle himself only mentions the otherwise unknown Thibron by name,36 the similarity of his conclusion37 with a formulation of Plutarch shows that the state theorist relied on the same sources as the imperial writer and thus developed his views in confrontation with the philosophical thinking of the fourth century.38 Thus the moralizing biographer in the Lysander-Vita refers to the domestic political disputes after the Peloponnesian War, which resulted in a ban on the private possession of gold and silver. Only in the public sphere did the use of precious metal remain legitimate.39 This measure Plutarch judged disparagingly,40 thus he here refers to the notion that money and wealth corrupt character. Similarly, elsewhere he linked the foreign political decline to the Spartans’ victory over the Athenians and the riches that came to Sparta as tribute and booty.41 According to Plutarch, the Spartans sought to curb the pernicious influence of money by forbidding the hoarding of gold and silver. In the Apophthegmata Lakonika, the imperial author relays an anecdote of Anaxander, the Spartan king who reigned during the Second Messenian War: “Anaxander, the son of Eurycrates, when someone inquired why the Spartans did not amass money in the public treasury, said, ‘So that those made the guardians  Plat. rep. 551 e 3. The reference to the Platonic dictum is all the more likely, as especially the 9th chapter of the 2nd book of Aristotle’s Politics is strongly dependent on its teacher – albeit on the Nomoi, according to Schütrumpf (1991–2005) I 285. On the ideal state in Aristotle and Plato, and on the connection of their ideas with Sparta, cf. also David (1982/83) 92–103. It is true that Plato, especially in the eighth book of his Politeia, criticizes Spartan society as a timocracy and in the Nomoi condemns the position of the Spartan woman, pederasty, xenelasia, and the sole orientation of the Spartans to war. However, in the examination of newborns, in public education, in the syssitia, in polygyny, in the egalitarian orientation of the way of life, in the absence of city walls, in the punishability of marriage and childlessness, and in the high esteem in which hunting is held, clues can be seen to the model character of the Spartan constitution on Plato’s ideal state in the Politeia and the Nomoi. It is therefore not surprising that Plato had a great influence on the “restoration” in the third century under Agis IV and Cleomenes III. On the Platonic view of Sparta, see Morrow (1960) 40–63. Rawson (1969) 61–72. Tigerstedt (1965–1978) I 251–276. David (1978). Huys (1996) 59–62; 73–74. Wilke (1997) 198–202. 36  Aristot. pol. 1333 b 18. Probably he is to be identified with that very harmost whom Xenophon names in his Hellenika (3,1,4–8). Cf. on him also Lipka (2002) 22. 37  Aristot. pol. 1271 b 14–17: ἀποβέβηκέ τε τοὐναντίον τῷ νομοθέτῃ τοῦ συμϕέροντος: τὴν μὲν γὰρ πόλιν πεποίηκεν ἀχρήματον, τοὺς δʼ ἰδιώτας ϕιλοχρημάτους. “And the lawgiver has achieved the opposite result to what is advantageous – he has made the state poor and the individual citizen covetous.” 38  See Schütrumpf (1991–2005) I 284–285 for a summary of the sources Aristotle might have used. 39  Plut. Lysander 17. 40  Plut. Lysander 17,4: “As if Lycurgus had feared the (precious metal) coin, and not the love of money which resulted from the coin. For the prohibition of possession did not deprive the private man of the love of money, since possession was introduced into the city, and since the use entailed esteem and admiration.” 41  Plut. Agis 5,1: “The Spartan conditions, therefore, possessed the beginning of their own destruction and ill-doom about the time when they had ended the supremacy of the Athenians, and had filled themselves altogether with gold and silver.” 35

3.1  The Thucydidean Legacy: The Source Situation

145

of it may not become corrupt.’”42 Apparently many stories circulated in the fourth century attributing to the Spartans a prudent measure in the handling of money.43 Which sources Plutarch relied on cannot be reconstructed in all cases; in the Apophtegmata Lakonika, in  particular, the philosophical influences on the moral assessment of wealth are tangible.44 In other places, he refers to Aristotle, Xenophon, Ephorus, and Theopompus.45 Xenophon, like Plato, belonged to the circle around Socrates46 and – like many before and after him – wrote a Λακεδαιμονίων πολιτεία.47 In it, he praised the Sparta of Lycurgus,48 whose laws and institutions are believed to have formed the basis of the former greatness and importance of the polis.49 Contemporary Sparta, on the other hand, he viewed critically, for the polis having

 Plut. apophth. lac. Anaxandros (mor. 217 b). The corruptibility of the Spartans was a frequent accusation since Herodotus. See in detail Noethlichs (1987). 43  Thus, the pseudo-Aristotelian Oeconomica (1347 b 16–20) reports: “When the Samians entreated the Lacedaemonians for money to enable them to return to their country, the Lacedaemonians passed a resolution that they and their servants and their pack animals should go without food for one day; and that the expense each one thus saved should be given to the Samians.” See the commentary on the passage in Zoepffel (2006) 592–593 with the literature and discussion given there. – Plutarch (quomodo adul. 64 B), in order to illustrate the modesty of a true friend, cites the same anecdote with the difference that the Spartans helped out the people of Smyrna (and not the Samians) by this very measure in an emergency. 44  Hodkinson (2000) 42. 45  Plutarch mentions Aristotle and Xenophon in his Vita of Lycurgus (Lycurgus 1,1 and 3), while for the episode of Lysander (Lys. 17,2) he cites Ephorus and Theopompus as sources. 46  On the biography of Xenophon, see Lipka (2002) 3–5. 47  See generally on this work Proietti (1987) 44–79. Rebenich (1998). Lipka (2002). In what follows, following Ollier (1934) VII–XI. Rebenich (1998) 14–15 and Lipka (2002) 5–9, the authenticity of the work is assumed.  – Cf. for instance on the Spartan constitution as a subject of philosophical and political discourse in Greece Isocr. or. 12,202–259. FGrHist 580–598. Ollier (1933–1943) I 139–440. Rawson (1969) 33–55. Tigerstedt (1965–1978) I 159–309. A.  Gray (1994). – See on Plutarch’s reception of the Xenophontic treatise Lipka (2002) 40. 48  The complex system of Spartan social and political institutions is associated with the lawgiver Lycurgus: he is said to have introduced an equal distribution of land, the Great Rhetra, the syssitia, the agoge and other measures regulating the life of the individual and the community. His importance as the originator of the Spartan “cosmos” increased noticeably from the fifth century onwards. Innovations in the Spartan order were then either legitimized as “Lycurgian” or disapproved of as contrary to the “Lycurgian” laws. The orally transmitted “Lycurgian” order is thus a discursive construct that reflects a horizon of values linked to Sparta. On the historicity of Lycurgus and the laws attributed to him, see Hammond (1950). Oliva (1967) and (1971) 63–70. Thommen (1996) 24–26. M.  Meier (1998) 222–226. Hölkeskamp (1999) 44–59. Kõiv (2000). Paradiso (2000). Lipka (2002) 35–36. Cartledge (2003) 60–65. Thommen (2003a) 31–34. Hölkeskamp (2010). Schmitz (2017). 49  Xen. Lak. pol. 1,1. On the classification of the Xenophontic treatise in the literature on the ideal state, see Lipka (2002) 18–19. On the historicity of the writing, Ollier (1934) XXXIX–XL. Lipka (2002) 32–36. 42

146

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

turned away from the good laws of Lykurgus.50 Plato and Xenophon belonged to the Laconophile milieu, which is why they saw “Lycurgian” Sparta as an alternative to Athenian democracy.51 The philosophical view of Sparta and the criticism of the current conditions shaped this circle.52 It is therefore not surprising that Aristotle dealt with Sparta in his philosophical draft of an ideal state.53 Plutarch’s two other sources, Ephorus and Theopompus, also illustrate the influence of moralizing historiography on the imperial biographer and can also be considered as sources for Aristotle. Both Ephorus and Theopompus belonged to a group of ancient authors who explained the political decline of Sparta in terms of a dissolution of the “Lycurgian” order and a moral decline.54 Given the rapid loss of power and the inability to achieve hegemony on its own,55 the interpretation circulated in the fourth century that Sparta had passed the zenith of power politics because the Spartans had turned away from the ideal state of the “Lycurgian” constitution as the guarantor of success.56 Immediate consequences of this would be luxury, sloth, the use of coined money, and the accumulation of wealth. In doing so, Ephorus takes up the tradition that has existed since Herodotus of explaining military defeats with moral corruption – caused by a lifestyle oriented towards material wealth.57

 On Xenophon’s laconophilia, see Ollier (1934) XXXI–XXXIII.  Lipka (2002) 13–18. Tuplin (1993) 31–32; 163–164. On Xenophon’s critical view of the Sparta of his time, Humble (1997) esp. 235–243. Rebenich (1998) 31–32. Humble (2004). – It is striking that Xenophon, who otherwise demonstrated a keen interest in public finance, did not say a word about the state of the revenues and expenditures of the city on the Eurotas. Since he was well acquainted with the Spartan polis from his own experience, he evidently saw no peculiarities here that he could point out either critically or approvingly. 51  Critias, who also praised the “Constitution of the Spartans” in two (only fragmentary) extant works (Critias 88 B 6–9 and B 32–37 Diels/Kranz), is to be counted among these two disciples of Socrates. Critias also belonged to the circle around Socrates, was related to Plato and belonged to the anti-democratic groups accused of mutilating the Hermai. Critias participated in the oligarchic government in Athens both in 411 and – even in a leading position – in 404. 52  Perhaps this view can be traced back to Socrates. After all, he did not give in to the whipped-up mood of the assembly during the Arginusae Trial, belonged to the citizens among the “Thirty” and was condemned in 399 – a trial that can also be interpreted as a political one. Scholz (2000). 53  See on the reception of the Xenophontic treatise by Aristotle Lipka (2002) 37. 54  See Hodkinson (2000) 26–30 for the following. 55  Cf. Hamilton (1979). Funke (1980a). Hamilton (1991) and (1997) 45–55. Funke (2004). 56  Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 71. Diod. 7,12,8. on Ephorus’ view of Sparta, see Ollier (1933–1943) II 66–75. Tigerstedt (1965–1978) I 206–227. Hodkinson (2000) 27–30. 57  De Romilly (1977) 16–18; 59. Flower (1991) 93–94. Hodkinson (2000) 28.  – Ephorus may, moreover, have used as a source the treatise of the exiled Pausanias, who thus explicitly turned against his political enemies, accusing them of disobeying the “Lycurgian” laws. Hodkinson (2000) 28–29, who refers to David (1979b). See also Luther (2004) 21–28. His opponents included notably Lysander, who ensured that large sums reached Sparta after the end of the Peloponnesian War, and whose domestic opponents prevented him from accumulating even more power and wealth through a possible sack of Athens, according to Powell (2006). Lysander may also have planned to use the precious metal he brought to Sparta to mint coins. Christien (2002) 176–178. 50

3.1  The Thucydidean Legacy: The Source Situation

147

The ancient assessments of Sparta’s public finances are thus anything but reliable: Thucydides’ verdict that Sparta had no financial reserves and no functioning financial administration at the beginning of the war corresponds, on the one hand, to the intention of the respective speakers (Archidamus and Pericles) to recommend or advise against a war. On the other hand, the Spartan lack of money is also due to the literary disposition to portray Sparta and Athens as two poleis that could not be more opposed economically, socially, and politically. This judgment on the Spartan ἀχρηματία and the poor payment morals of the Spartans is taken up almost literally by Aristotle. Subsequently, ancient authors repeatedly recur to this characterization.58 Since the fourth century, the philosophical assessment of the “Lycurgian” order has been firmly established. Thus the picture formed by Thucydides was turned morally, and political decline was explained as the result of moral decay. While the authors testify that wealth existed in Spartan society in the early fourth century and that political and moral debate used Sparta as an example, conclusions about the organization of public funds do not allow for such moralizing judgments. Thus, if ancient judgments about the level of Sparta’s revenue and expenditure structure are not to be trusted, and if, unlike Athens, it was not customary there to publicly document administrative processes – think, for example, of the Athenian trierarchy inscriptions or the decisions of the assembly – an investigation of public finance must evaluate indirect evidence. From the accounts of the contemporary historians Thucydides and Xenophon, from the sporadic epigraphic and archaeological evidence, and the indications of the imperial geographer Pausanias,59 it is possible to approximately reconstruct the expenditures and, in some cases, the revenues of the Spartan polis. Moreover, it makes sense to consider a relatively long period – the Classical period as a whole: The relatively few testimonies were produced in connection with the Peloponnesian War, so that the account of Spartan public finances must begin as early as the fifth century to identify changes and their causes more easily.60

 Thus the turn of Polybius (6,49,7–9), that the Spartans could not finance military undertakings either with their iron money or with their crops, is strongly reminiscent of the speech of Pericles, which speaks of the Spartans and their allies in the Peloponnesus as αὐτουργοί (Thuc. 1,141,3). For the αὐτουργοί must be taken in the sense of γεωργοί, that is, simply as peasants “who till their own field and live on it,” according to J. Classen (1897) 313 (on the passage). On Polybius’s criticism of the “Lycurgian” constitution, see F. W. Walbank (1966). 59  Pausanias’ descriptions of Laconia are not always accurate and sometimes contain errors. For example, the periegte states that the Hyperteleaton was a sanctuary of Asclepius (Paus. 3,22,10). But the votive offerings found there in great numbers testify without exception to Apollo Hyperteleatas. Wallner (2008) 206. 60  The period dealt with here differs substantially from that of Athens: the disparate source situation forces us to let the investigation begin with Thucydides. The changes after the Battle of Leuctra in 371, on the other hand, mark the end point of the time frame treated here. On the Battle of Leuctra as a caesura in Spartan history, see the summary words in Finley (1968) 24. 58

148

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

3.2 The Complexity of the Revenue and Expenditure Structure Until Sparta made a large-scale effort to expand its fleet61 and recruit mercenaries in the Peloponnesian War,62 public expenditures for war were relatively low: the hoplite army only had to be supplied with centrally provided food in exceptional cases63 and received reinforcements from troops of the allies. In addition, the Spartans refrained from paying for offices, court activities, and attendance at the assembly. Other expenses that Athens financed through liturgies, such as the choregia or the gymnasiarchia, Sparta had to incur only to a limited extent. Tragedy and comedy performances did not exist so that the religious festivals did not require a large financial outlay.64 The catering of the groups participating in the festivals could, moreover, be paid for by the syssitia contributions, since these levies many times exceeded over the kings’ own consumption and shares. It can therefore be assumed that the accumulated surplus served communal tasks of the polis, e.g. for sacrifices, the hospitality of guests, or the provisioning of the army.65 In addition, spending on public buildings or temples was much lower than in Athens. The temples had modest dimensions; monumental representational buildings like those on the Athenian Acropolis were lacking.66 The reason for this, however, must not be sought in a ban on precious metals67 or in a lack of financial resources; rather, cultic traditions determined the dimensions of the Spartan sanctuaries.68 At least until the Peloponnesian War, such buildings could be financed from plunder and loot.69

 See above Sect. 3.1 note 27.  In the Peloponnesian War, Sparta recruited mercenaries for the first time – whether in the campaign of Eurylochus (Thuc. 3,100–102; 105–109), as Millender (2006) 236 assumes, or in the campaign of Brasidas (Thuk. 4,80,2–4; 5,6). 63  See, for example, the data on soldiers trapped on Sphacteria. Hodkinson (2000) 197. 64  On Spartan religion, see Parker (1989) 149, who highlights the high level of participation in public cults and festivals. 65  Figueira (1984) 95–97. Hodkinson (2000) 196–199. 66  Cf. Thuc. 1,10. 67  A ban on gold and silver coins cannot be proven for the time before 404. Cf. also Noethlichs (1987) 166. See also below Sect. 3.3 note 151. 68  For example, the sanctuary of Artemis Orthia retained its small-scale structures even in Hellenistic and Roman times. Tomlinson (1992) 248. – Rather, the sophisticated decoration of the Menelaion and the furnishing of the Amyklaion, for which Bathycles had been recruited from Magnesia, testify to financial resources. On the quality of the decoration of the Menelaion and the Amyklaion see Tomlinson (1992) esp. 249–253. On the Amyklaion also Calligas (1992). 69  This is attested, for example, for the temple of Athena Chalkioikos (Paus. 3,17,2) and for the Persian portico (Paus. 3,11,3. Virt. 1,1,6). 61 62

3.2  The Complexity of the Revenue and Expenditure Structure

149

While Athens had the silver deposits in the Lauriotike and the tributes of the members of the Delian League at its disposal as lucrative sources of income, the Spartan symmachoi paid no contributions, but provided troops and ships. After all, Sparta possessed iron ore70 and significant timber71 deposits as well as marble quarries.72 Laconia and Messenia also offered very favourable conditions for agriculture.73 In addition, fines,74 market fees,75 and port duties,76 flowed into a common treasury (κοινόν77), which may have been housed in Pharis.78 For such a low complexity of revenue and expenditure – compared to Athenian conditions – the Spartan polis did not need a differentiated administration with a large apparatus of officials until the Peloponnesian War. The situation changed with the great war between Athens and Sparta, which acted as a catalyst for the development of a differentiated financial organization. Now Sparta not only sought to acquire financial resources traditionally (through booty and allies), but also introduced two innovations: the levying of an eisphora, which took into account the size of landholdings or the size of crop yields,79 and the making of voluntary contributions to the war fund (ἐπιδόσεις).80 The latter were inscriptionally documented in a highly unusual way by Spartan standards and probably date from

 Minable iron was located in the Sciritis and on the Malea promontory. Clauss (1983) 166. On the quality of the Laconian iron cf. Steph. Byz. s. v. Lakedaimon. Eusthatius Hom. ad Il. 2,294. Ridley (1974) 285. 71  Holladay (1977) 116. 72  Laconian marble represented a commonly used building material, according to Wallner (2008) 247–248, but it was not exported until Roman times. Warren (1992) 285–286. 73  Cf. Aristot. pol. 1270 a 29–31: Laconia could support 1500 horsemen and 30,000 hoplites. – Even in 1960 about 44 percent of Messenia represented cultivated land. This is considerably more than the Greek average, according to Figueira (1984) 102. 74  Thuc. 5,63,2. Xen. Lac. pol. 8,4. Ephorus FGrHist 70 F 193. Polyb. 4,27. Nepos Pel. 1,2–3. Diod. 5,20,2. Plut. Ages. 34,8; Pelop. 6,1; mor. 576 a. The high sums of punishment often served to drive the condemned into exile, according to Hodkinson (2000) 170–171. 75  Although market fees are not mentioned, the information provided by Xenophon (hell. 3,3,5–7), the iron market in Sparta would have been heavily frequented – he speaks of about 4000 market visitors – make them probable. Cf. also the prohibition of buying and selling for those who were deprived of their civil rights, which is found in Thucydides’ (5,34,2), and Plutarch’s remark (Lycurgus 25,1) that Spartans were not allowed to go to the market until they were thirty years old. 76  Port duties are not explicitly attested, but the trade connections, especially those of the largest port of Sparta, Gytheion, suggest that fees were also charged here for the import of goods. See on trade links Shipley (1992) 218–219. – However, the revenue from market and port duties may have been small  – compared to Athens: The Spartan way of life largely eschewed high-end luxury imports. On “Spartan Austerity” see the literature cited below in Sect. 3.3 note 113. 77  Thuc. 1,80,4 . 78  Christien (2002) 180. 79  Andreades (1931) 352. Thomsen (1964) 38. 80  Thuc. 1,80,4. Aristot. pol. 1271 b 13 and 15. 70

150

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

the first phase of the Athenian-Spartan conflicts, perhaps even immediately before they began in the atmosphere of a Prospartan enthusiasm for war.81 The inscription is on a stele which recorded on the front and right side the receipts of contributions from “Friends of the Lacedaemonians for the war”.82 The contributors – individuals,83 groups,84 and poleis85 – were not official allies.86 The gifts varied in value and form: Monetary payments (in various currencies) stood indiscriminately alongside inkind and war materials, suggesting that these were not fixed contributions, but that each gave what they could afford.87 The (presumable) place of installation in the Amyklaion and the uniqueness of the publication – Sparta only published treaties with other poleis – make clear the attempt to strengthen the readiness for war against Athens.88 In this context, it is significant that the epidoseis were collected centrally in Sparta to be subsequently forwarded – probably for the urgently needed construction of ships.89 Evidently, the polis at this time had appropriate structures to collect both voluntary and imposed levies (ἐπιδόσεις and εἰσφοραί), to keep records of them, and to coordinate the payment of the costs incurred. As the Peloponnesian War progressed, the need for a structured organization of public funds grew. The cost of war increased steadily due to the recruitment of mercenaries and the expansion of the fleet, for which Sparta needed building materials, infrastructure and rowing crews on a large scale. High financial burdens and the spatial expansion of warfare meant that expenses could no longer be easily met ad  IG V.1 1 = CIG 1511. A detailed edition with the addition of a new fragment was presented by Loomis (1992). The text was reprinted, illustrated, annotated and published with a modern Greek translation by Matthaíou (2006) no. 3. On the dating attempts see Loomis (1992) 56–76, esp. 69–70. In contrast to  Loomis, Bleckmann (1993) assumes a dating in the Decelean War, while Matthaíou/Pikoulas (1989) 80–81; 97; 103–106; 110–111 and Matthaíou (2006) 16 assume that the entries were made successively between 427/6 and 415/4. Although it cannot be ruled out that the inscription dates from the time of the conflicts in 394 until before the Peace of Antalcidas in 387/6, according to Cozzoli (1979) 125–139, a dating immediately before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War in 432/1 in the period of Prospartan war enthusiasm, according to Smarczyk (1999), or in the first phase of the war, according to Loomis (1992), seems most plausible. 82  IG V.1 1 front l. 1–2: τοὶ Λακεδαιμονίον ϕίλοι πoτὸν πόλεμον. 83  Front l. 7 (Som[…]ophon from Olenos in Achaea), front l. 13 (Parmenon?) and side l. 15–16 (Molokros). See for discussion of the name and person Molokros Loomis (1992) 53–54. The plural of the predicate in l. 7 indicates that Som[…]ophon contributed together with at least one other person. Loomis (1992) 45. 84  Groups of people included the exiled from Chios (front l. 10) and perhaps the Melians (see l. 8–9 and 20–21). 85  Ephesus (front l. 24) and Aegina (front l. 3). 86  Smarczyk (1999) 47. 87  Money: darics (front l. 2; 5; 18; 25), Aeginetian staters (front l. 4; 11), and silver (front l. 9; side l. 12; 19). Goods in kind: raisins (front l. 15) and perhaps grain (front l. 22: medimnoi). War material: trireme(s) (front l. 8). 88  Loomis (1992) 83 with note 138. 89  This assumption is supported by the time of composition (see above note 81) and the mention of one or more triremes (front l. 8). 81

3.2  The Complexity of the Revenue and Expenditure Structure

151

hoc through looting and extortion.90 But this also meant that large parts of the spolia or their proceeds went directly to Sparta.91 Sparta, therefore, needed an institution that estimated the financial needs, controlled the revenues, and forwarded the available funds as required – all the more so as the Persian king soon intervened in the war through extensive subsidies in favour of Sparta.92 The Great King, though very rich in comparison with the Greek poleis,93 was equally anxious not to waste his darics inexpediently.94 Accordingly, Sparta would not have received any financial support from the Persians if it had not been able to credibly demonstrate planned handling of the resources employed.95 For such coordination tasks, both in times of peace within the polis and far away from home during the war, the five ephors came into consideration first and foremost.96 Due to their general supervisory function, they were predestined for centralized organizational activities: They could be called to account at the end of their one-year term, exercised judicial functions, accompanied the king in command of the army, kept in touch with each other through coded messages,97 and were perhaps already supported by a treasurer of the war fund at the time of the Peloponnesian War.98 Thus their competences complemented those of the king standing in the field, who was able to assess the needs and possible sources of income on the spot due to his long experience  – professional loot sellers accompanied the army99 from the time of Xenophon at the latest. In doing so, the kings (and nauarchs), even if they were endowed with extensive financial powers, had to answer to the ephors.100

 The descriptions of the armaments in the winter 413/12 (Thuc. 8,3) are revealing. Agis collected money for the fleet from the symmachoi, extorted ransom from enemies for cattle he had taken from them before, forced money as well as hostages from Thessalian allies and imposed the construction of a hundred ships on the Peloponnesian allies, 25 of which were to be built by Lacedaemonians (meaning certainly the perioeci) themselves. Further evidence for plundering and extortion is given by Loomis (1992) 68 with note 100. 91  Sparta is the only polis for which professional loot sellers are attested (Xen. Lac. pol. 13,11). Even if the only evidence comes from Xenophon, it can be assumed that this institution existed at least since the Peloponnesian War. The fact that during the war in the Laconian Gytheion a large number of ships were built again and again (e.g. Thuc. 8,3,2: 25 triremes. Xen. hell. 1,4,11: 30 triremes) speaks for the fact that the proceeds of the sale actually reached Sparta. 92  According to Andocides (3,29) it should have been a total of 5000 talents. – On the relations between Sparta and Persia see D. M. Lewis (1977). 93  The tributes to the Great King can probably be estimated at 14,560 talents. Cf. also the 150,000 talents that fell to Alexander in his campaign of conquest against the Persian Empire. Malitz (2008) 33 with references in notes 54 and 55. 94  Hell. Oxyrh. 16, 537–544. Isocr. or. 4,142. 95  See also Malitz (2008) 33. 96  So also Richer (1998) 477–479 and S. Sommer (2001) 34. 97  Secret messages about the amount of loot revenue were Gylippus’ undoing (Plut. Lysander 16). See on the functioning of the Spartan skylata Beutelspacher (2009) 3–4. 98  Cf. Xen. Lac. pol. 13,11. 99  Xen. Lac. pol. 13,11. Cf. Xen. hell. 4,1,26; Ages. 1,18. 100  Plut. Lysander 16,2. Diod. 13,106,8–10. 90

152

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

After the Peloponnesian War, the development of the Spartan financial administration received a further boost from the enormous sums that flowed to Lacedaemon as war booty and tribute. According to Xenophon, Lysander is said to have enriched the treasury by 470 talents.101 In addition, it seems that Sparta, at least for the short period of the decarchies, adapted the Athenian tribute system and raised levies – Diodorus speaks of 1000 talents102 – from the conquered poleis. Athens, at any rate, had to pay φόροι into the συμμαχικόν (which was in Spartan control).103 Sparta was therefore able to provide the “Thirty” with a loan of 100 talents.104 Some twenty years later, the Peloponnesian League also underwent a structural change. In connection with the request for help from Acanthus and Apollonia, who hoped for Spartan support against the Olynthian League,105 Xenophon notes that members of the Spartan-dominated alliance were free to provide soldiers or money to recruit mercenaries.106 As a result, the Spartans were forced to expand the management of public finances. We can also grasp a change in the interior of Sparta about the same time. In the time of Agesilaus (399–359) Anticrates and his descendants received the ἀτέλεια,107 by which may have been included the dues which Agesilaus108 imposed on “his friends.” The ateleia of Anticrates and his descendants evidently extended not alone to eisphorai and syssitia contributions, but also to other levies which bore the character, and therefore the name, of tele.109 In Aristotelian times this privilege was also due to fathers with four sons.110 In summary, it can be stated that Sparta had far less regular revenue available compared to Athens. The city on the Eurotas had no precious metal deposits, trade yielded much lower returns, and until 382 the allies made no contributions. The  Xen. hell. 2,3,8.  Diod. 14,10,1. For a criticism of this figure see Kahrstedt (1922) 340. Welwei (2004) 270. 103  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 39.2. That the Spartan war fund and the symmachikon are identical is suggested by the phrase ἔδον N. N. τοῖς Λακεδαιμονίοις ποτὀν πόλεμον in IG V.1.1. Cf. also Cozzoli (1979) 122–125. 104  Xen. hell. 11,4,28. Demosthenes (or. 20,11–12) reports that the loan was repaid to the Lacedaemonians after the restoration of democracy by the entire polis as a sign of concord. 105  See Zahrnt (1971) 83–84; Urban (1991) 130–136; Beck (1997) 155–157. 106  Xen. hell. 5,2,21–22; 6,4,2. Three Aeginetian obols were calculated for a hoplite and two drachmas for a horseman (Xen. hell. 5,2,22). Cf. Diod. 15,31,1–2. 107  Plut. Ages. 35.1–2. That Anticrates was also exempt from duties Plutarch does not explicitly say. But since he speaks of gifts and τιμαί and adds the ἀτέλεια for the sons, it can be assumed with great certainty that the honors included exemption from duties. 108  Plut. Ages. 35,3. Hodkinson (2000) 231 note 6, however, estimates the measure surviving in Plutarch as singular and semi-official. 109  Hodkinson (2000) 190. – Perhaps these tele also refer to such levies as are attested for the restoration of the temple of Apollo at Delphi, which had been destroyed in 373/2. Sparta provided the highest documented sum for this purpose (CID II pp. 10–11). Today, however, it is impossible to decide whether these were donations or compulsory contributions. See also Hodkinson (2000) 174–176. 110  Aristotle (pol. 1270 b 3–4) refers to this privilege as “exemption from all duties” (ἀτελῆ πάντων). 101 102

3.2  The Complexity of the Revenue and Expenditure Structure

153

Table 3.1  Public revenue and expenditure Before 431

Additionally 431–404

Revenue Syssitia contributions Spoils and spoil sales Fines Looting and extortion Market fees and port dutiesa Eisphorai Allocations to the allies Epidoseis

Additionally after 404

Persian Subsidies Tribute

Expenditure Provision of the army in time of need Public buildings and infrastructure Communal offerings and votive offerings Legations Catering Flotilla Centrally supplied weapons (?) Expansion and maintenance of the fleet Development of maritime infrastructure (shipyards, quays) Remuneration of the rowing crews Salary of the mercenaries

Contributions of the allies for the recruitment of mercenaries Tele Market fees and port duties, although not directly documented, can be deduced (see notes 75 and 76) a

expenditures of the traditional land power were also low until the large-scale expansion of the fleet and the recruitment of mercenaries in the Peloponnesian War (see Table 3.1). Nevertheless, Spartan financial management was not as plain as Thucydides and Aristotle suggest. The Peloponnesian War forced Sparta to respond to financial challenges with centralized coordination of revenues and expenditures. The sheer amount of money collected and forwarded exceeded that of many other poleis. Yet the complexity of Spartan administration is only indirectly attested in the sources. For Sparta did not claim transparency of organizational procedures. The policy of secrecy111 did the rest. Although the systematization of public revenues and expenditures was more complex than previously assumed, it reveals a gap in the long-term financing of public tasks: Unlike Athens, Sparta did not have an elaborate system of liturgies to ensure, for example, the maintenance of a fleet or the upkeep of infrastructure or public buildings. Why did the Spartans avoid any financing through liturgies, even though they were dependent on a fleet and had difficulty meeting the costs of war?

111

 Cf. Thuc. 5,68,2.

154

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

3.3 The All-Dominant Discourse: The Ideology of Equality In Athens, liturgies were based on the balance between the burden placed on the individual for the benefit of the political community and the prestige granted by the polis community in return for the service rendered.112 This meant that the achievement of the wealthy individual had to be recognized; it set the individual above the rest of the citizens in a narrowly defined sphere. Equality of political rights, economic differences, and a functioning financial administration was thus balanced in a way that did not undermine social and political ambition, but directed it in ways useful to the community. In Sparta, on the other hand, the idea of a meager life113 was combined with the “Lycurgian” prohibition of hoarding gold and silver or accumulating wealth.114 Xenophon, however, relativized the validity of the “Lycurgian” constitution and criticized that now even great wealth was publicly displayed.115 Thus Spartans could accumulate property in the first quarter of the fourth century.116 Sparta had always known considerable economic inequalities within the holders of political decision-­ making powers117 and increasingly developed into a plutocratic society in the fifth or fourth century.118 On closer look, there is plenty of evidence of differences in property relations  – not only between the kings and the Spartans.119 Already Herodotus spoke of ἄνθρωποι ὄλβιοι120 and a pseudo-Platonic writing even states that the Spartiates privately owned more wealth – land, slaves, horses, herds – than the wealthiest Athenians and more gold and silver than anyone else in Greece.121  See in detail below Sect. 4.3.2.  On the actual change in Spartan society in the sixth century and the associated “Spartan austerity”, see Holladay (1977), Hodkinson (1998) and Scott (2010), who object to the explanation of the phenomenon as a cultural and economic decline, such as Stubbs (1950). 114  Xen. Lac. pol. 7,6. Plut. Lysander 17. – See on Xenophon, who – as far as can be traced – was the first to place wealth and possessions at the centre of the idealization of the “Lycurgian” system, and his influence on later writers Hodkinson (2000) 23–25. 115  Xen. Lac. pol. 14:1–3. Rebenich (1998) 25–31. Lipka (2002) 5–9. Humble (2004) assume with convincing arguments that the problematic 14th chapter is an integral part of the script. 116  Rebenich (1998) 31: dating of the Xenophontic treatise between 386 and 371, probably after 378. Lipka (2002) 12: dating between 395 and 394. 117  See Sect. 3.1 above. 118  Hodkinson (2000) 432. 119  On this see Hodkinson (2000) 271–368. The richest Spartans were the kings ([Plat.] Alk. 1.122 c-123 a. Cf. also Xen. Lac. pol. 15,3), who may have received a βασιλικὸς φόρος from the perioeci ([Plat.] Alk. 1.18). 120  Hdt. 6,61,3. Cf. also 7,134,2. 121  [Plat.] Alk.1,122 d–123 b. – For example, individual Spartiates are known to have pursued horse breeding and to have won competitions with a four-horse team. Hodkinson (2000) 303–333. – Cf. for instance the famous inscription recording twenty or even more victories of Damonon and his son Enymakratidas (IG V.1 213). Damonon specifically points out that he competed with his own horses and chariots. This implies a certain amount of wealth. – Some possessed hunting dogs (Xen. Lac. pol. 6.3). Hodkinson (2000) 199–201. Cf. also the commentary on the passage in Rebenich (1998) 113.  – Some accumulated valuables (Xen. Lac. pol. 14,3; hell. 6,5,27) or concentrated landed property in their hands (Aristot. pol. 1307 a 34–36. [Plat.] Alk. 1,122 d). – According to Thucydides (1,6,4), too, there was a group of Spartans who were richer than others, but all maintained the same lifestyle. 112 113

3.3  The All-Dominant Discourse: The Ideology of Equality

155

From this, it becomes clear: it was not the same amount of property that constituted the equality of the Spartans, but the way of life in which all citizens participated.122 Sparta was thus never an egalitarian society,123 even if Sparta came comparatively close to such a utopia124: The community of homoioi125 formed an ideology in the period after the Second Messenian War126 in terms of a common value system127 to counteract the accumulation of power by single individuals. In this way, the Spartan ὁμοιότης differed fundamentally from the Athenian conception of equality: the similarity of mentality and way of life followed from the aristocratic concept of equality, which was extended to the entire citizen community.128 The ἰσοδίαιτα, the equality of the way of life,129 was based primarily on two institutions: participation in the agoge and the syssitia.130 Unlike in Athens, where only the wealthy could seek a time-intensive education for their children, the sons of the Spartans participated in compulsory education.131 Regardless of their parents’ wealth, they all received the same education132; the only requirements were physical fitness and Spartan parentage, even if the latter did not constitute a sine qua non.133 The same communal, childhood and youth-long agoge was not only indispensable for the military power of the Spartan army, but it also created a sense of belonging to one another and served as an identity marker for those who did not participate in it.

 Thucydides (1,6,4) uses the expression ἰσοδίαιτοι for this purpose.  Sometimes the ancient authors claimed this. Cf. for example Xen. Lac. pol. 7,3. 124  Christesen (2004). 125  The term ὅμοιοι is attested for the first time by Xenophon (Lac. pol. 10,7; 13,1; 13,7; an. 4,6,14; hell. 3,3,5), but is also found in Aristot. pol. 1306 b 30. Similar formulations are used by Herodotus (3,55 u. ö.) and Thucydides (i.a. 1,86,2). On the ὅμοιοι see Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926) II 659 note 4. Thommen (1996) 135–137. Rebenich (1998) 121 note 107. S.  Link (2000) 111–117. Thommen (2004) 128–130. 126  See on this M. Meier (2006). In contrast, Thommen (2003a) 121, who places the formation of the homoioi ideal in the fifth century. 127  In the following, the term “ideology” refers in a value-neutral way to a system of ideas that necessarily determines social, political, and economic behavior. In this sociological sense, the ideology of equality in Sparta was not based on theoretical considerations, but functioned as a practically realized orientation for action for the group of Spartans. It is thus an expression of norms and attitudes by means of which social, political and economic behavior is justified. Cf. on the term “ideology” Dierse (1982) esp. 166–168. 128  S. Link (2000) 98–117. 129  This term is not attested in the sources; Thucydides (1,6,4), however, uses the phrase ἰσοδίαιτοι. 130  Cf. Aristot. pol. 1263 b 40–42: “just as the legislator introduced community of property in Sparta and Crete by the institution of public messes.” 131  See on Spartan education Xen. Lac. pol. 2. Plut. Lycurgus 16,7–18. Tazelaar (1967). Kennell (1995). Lévy (2003) 50–66. Thommen (2003a) 126–129. Ducat (2006). 132  Cf. also Aristotle (pol. 1294 b 21–26), who refers to the common education of children from poor and rich homes as the first democratic element of the Spartan constitution. 133  Hodkinson (2000) 353. 122 123

156

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

Similar values were conveyed by the compulsory participation in the communal meals.134 Not only the admission procedure,135 the daily gathering of the community, and the same meals strengthened group cohesion across age boundaries and differences in wealth,136 but also the nature of the syssitia contributions. Each Spartiate had to deliver the same amount of food and money137; those who could not do so were deprived of their full citizenship.138 Unlike in Crete, where the andreia were maintained, among other things, by a tithe, however small, of the harvest yields, and where, accordingly, the contributions of the citizens to the communal banquets varied in amount, the idea of equality139 was enforced in Spartan society by the identical contributions.140 Accordingly, full citizenship was also tied to land ownership and a minimum level of wealth, demarcating the group of citizens from those who owned less.141 The syssitia contributions thus had some elements of a census, so that the status of the Spartan was defined to a considerable extent economically. At the same time, the obligation of the individual to the community of homoioi included restrictions on the use of possessions. This prevented individual Spartans from using their wealth to raise their status within society.142 The prohibition of craft activities or any form of money-making, which can be traced back to Lycurgus,143 the iron money,144 the restriction of the display of wealth at funerals,145 the wearing  For a summary of the syssitia, see Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926) II 698–700. Michell (1964) 281–297. Hodkinson (1983) 251–254. Fisher (1989). Fornis/Casillas (1997). S.  Link (2000) 100–111. Lévy (2003) 67–73. Thommen (2003a) 130–132. 135  Plut. Lycurgus 12,5–6. 136  Xen. Lac. pol. 5,5. Aristot. pol. 1294 b 25–29. 137  Xen. Lac. pol. 7,3. Aristot. pol. 1271 a 26–37. Cf. to the contributions the data at Plutarch (Lykurgus 12,3): one medimnos of barley, eight choes of wine, five minae of cheese, two and a half minae of figs and money for the side dish. Deviating levies are transmitted by Dicaearchus (Frg. 72 Wehrli = Athen. 4,141 c). See Figueira (1984). Hodkinson (2000) 191–193. 138  Aristot. pol. 1271 a 26–37; 1272 a 12–16; cf. 1330 a 5–8. 139  See S. Link (1994b) 10–15. 140  Xen. Lac. pol. 7.3. 141  So also Bringmann (1980) 482. 142  So also Finley (1968) 35. Gallant (1991) 148–149. See in detail on rich citizens and the use of private wealth the fundamental study by Hodkinson (2000) 209–368 (Part III). 143  Xen. Lac. pol. 7,1–2. Isocr. or. 11,17–18. Nicolaus of Damascus FGrHist 90 F 103. Ios. c. Ap. 2,31. Plut. Lycurgus 24,2; comp. Lyc. Num. 2,3; Agesilaus 26,5; apophth. lac. Agesilaus 72 (mor. 214 a); inst. lac. 41 (mor. 239 d–e). Ael. VH 6,6. Berthiaume (1976). – Cf. on the other hand the mentions of heralds, pipers, cooks, seers, and physicians (Hdt. 6,60. Xen. Lac. pol. 13,7). The practice of these professions signified an honor and was – to some extent at least – hereditary in the family. Cartledge (1976) as well as Lotze (1990) 142. 144  Xen. Lac. pol. 7,5. [Plat.] Eryx. 17,400b. Polyb. 6,49,8. Nicolaus of Damascus FGrHist 90 F 103. Plut. Lycurgus 9,1–3; Lysander 17,6; apophth. lac. Lycurgus 3 (mor. 226 c–d). Poll. 7,105 and 9,79. Theopompus FGrHist 115  F 71. Cf. Gansiniec (1956). Michell (1964) 298–307. Nenci (1974). Cozzoli (1979) 38–40. Hodkinson (2000) 154–165. Lipka (2002) 166–167. Figueira (2002). Christien (2002). Thommen (2003a) 142–143. For iron ore deposits, see Sect. 3.2 note 70 above. 145  See Hodkinson (2000) 237–279. 134

3.3  The All-Dominant Discourse: The Ideology of Equality

157

of simple clothing,146 the syssitia, the prohibition of representative private houses, common education,147 and inexpensive sacrifices served this purpose. Although some of these measures were later ascriptions148 and attributed to Lycurgus for legitimacy, at their core they reflect the idea of placing limits on the use of personal wealth and minimizing the impact and visibility of above-average wealth.149 This ideological discourse is made tangible by an example from the period immediately after the Peloponnesian War: After the victory over the Athenians, large quantities of gold and silver reached Sparta, so that “ being led by this instance in particular to fear the power of money”150 a ban was issued on privately owning precious metal. From now on, private possession of gold and silver was punishable by death.151 Thorax, Lysander’s fellow commander, fell victim to the ban on precious metals, who evaded conviction by fleeing.152 However, on the one hand, the law was circumvented by temple depositions outside Laconia,153 and on the other hand it was only applied for a short period154; in any case, Xenophon mentions that the marauding troops found rich booty in the houses of the Spartans after the Battle of Leuktra.155 Sparta had to resort to such prohibitions because it had no political instruments to institutionally counter conflicts with individuals who exposed themselves through their success and the claims that arose from it. Tensions within the elite that arose as a result of unresolved or questioned power relations could thus not be relieved  Thuc. 1,6,4. Xen. Lac. pol. 7,3–4.  Unlike Athens, where the wealthy could fund a better education for their sons, equal education limited the influence of wealth. Hodkinson (2000) 214. 148  See Hodkinson (2000) 19–64 for a detailed discussion. 149  Hodkinson (2000) 21 and 209. Cf. Xen. Lac. pol. 7.4: “Nor yet is there any reason for amassing money in order to spend it on one’s messmates; for he made it more respectable to help one’s fellows by toiling with the body than by spending money, pointing out that toil is an employment of the soul, spending an employment of wealth.” 150  Plut. Lysander 17,1. 151  Plut. Lysander 17,1–4. Cf. on the other hand Ehling (1997) 15–20, who dates this prohibition not to the year 404, but to the time between 550 and 520. However, since the prohibition of gold and silver can be interpreted as a reaction to Lysander’s special position, the dating to the year 404 is kept here. That the intention behind this ban was indeed to prevent an increase in Lysander’s power and to preserve the equality of the Spartans can be inferred from a roughly simultaneous non-event. Thus Powell (2006) was able to make it plausible that this motive was one of the reasons for not sacking and destroying Athens after the end of the Peloponnesian War (Xen. hell. 2,2,19–21. Diod. 14,33,6. Plut. Lysander 21,4–5). Athens was itself at this time a rich city, and the sale of its population into slavery would have been an exceedingly lucrative business. In other cases Sparta did not show herself so accommodating. The decision to spare Athens was thus based not only on moral or foreign policy motives, but also on socio-political ideas. 152  Plut. Lysander 19,4. 153  Cf. for example the deposits of Xouthias in Tegea, which, however, are attested in the middle of the fifth century. de Carvalho Gomes (1995). A direct connection with the gold and silver ban, which did not exist before 404 (see above note 151), can therefore not be established. – Further evidence in Bockisch (1974) 204 and Figueira (2002) 153–154. 154  Hodkinson (2000) 433 and 151–186. 155  Xen. hell. 6,5,27. Cf. also Plut. Pelopidas 6,1: Phoebidas is fined 100,000 drachmas. On the credibility of the sum, see Noethlichs (1987) 149, who rightly doubts the amount of the fine. 146 147

158

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

through political mechanisms. Rather, the Spartan solution envisaged circumventing such situations, which endangered consensus within the political elite or containing them by recourse to the equality of the Spartans.156 Certainly, the person of Lysander played a decisive role in this example.157 But the particular historical context should not obscure the fact that a discourse of equality can be grasped here, which on the one hand excluded impoverished Spartiates from the group of citizens, but on the other hand, also prevented wealth as a power factor from developing political and social force.158 The equality ideology guaranteed the stability of the socio-political structure, which, in contrast to the discourse, was characterized by multiple hierarchies159 and conflicting forces: the unavoidable disunity,160 the φιλονικία161 fostered by education, and election by appointment or co-optation (rather than drawn by lot)162 referred to the equality ideology necessary and precluded the development of a system of liturgies as in Athens. Wealthy Spartiates were therefore left with limited opportunities to use their wealth for the benefit of the community. Moreover, since full citizenship was tied to a minimum of wealth, the elite group of homoioi did not have to deal with substantial supply crises, which could have led to the formation of a euergetic ideology.163 Euergetism took place only on a small scale. This included, for example, providing extra food, such as costly wheat bread, to members of the syssitia.164 Another opportunity to acquire prestige through financial outlay was to finance the education of  S. Link (2008b) and (2011).  Lysander’s success and prestige evoked criticism and harbored potential for conflict. Thus Pausanias wrote a treatise against Lysander, whom he accused of having sabotaged the “Lycurgian” order through his politics. Hodkinson (2000) 29. – See also Aristotle (pol. 1306 b 31–36), who identifies as a cause of stasis the dishonorable treatment of deserving men by persons who held a higher position. He explicitly cites Lysander as an example.  – On Lysander, see Lotze (1964). Bommelaer (1991). 158  Fragmentation was a hallmark of Spartan society and prevented any one individual from combining all sources of power. Hodkinson (1983) 278–279. 159  Cf. for example Hdt. 7,134. Inequality was inherent in Spartan society: family origins, agoge, competitions and war generated hierarchies. This fact was first pointed out by Finley (1968) 27–29. This idea was further elaborated by Hodkinson (1983). See also Thommen (2003a) 50–53 on the claims that prominent families justified by reference to the past (genealogies, their own traditions and personal achievements). 160  Cf. on the process of adjudication in which the kings, the ephors, the gerontes and the assembly each participated, Redfield (1977–78) 154. Finley (1968) 31. D. H. Kelly (1981). On rival factions and differences of opinion, see Brunt (1965). De Ste. Croix (1972) 151–166. W.  E. Thompson (1973). Rice (1974). Powell (1980) 112. David (1981) 5–42. Hodkinson (1983) 268–271. P. Link (2008b). 161  Xen. Lac. pol. 4,2. Cf. Rebenich (1998) 105 note 50: “Aus der Stelle geht eindeutig hervor, dass die Erziehung nicht nur auf Uniformität ausgerichtet war, sondern durch individuellen Wetteifer und eine rigorose Leistungsideologie zur Rekrutierung der zukünftigen Führungselite des spartanischen Staates beitragen wollte.” 162  The drawing of lots was the principle par excellence in the Greek world to ensure equality among candidates. Finley (1968) 29. 163  Hodkinson (2000) 210–211. – Cf. also Aristotle’s statement (pol. 1270 a 29–31) that Laconia could support 1500 horsemen and 30,000 hoplites. 164  Xen. Lac. pol. 5,3. Athen. 4,139 c and 4,140 c–141 e. 156 157

3.3  The All-Dominant Discourse: The Ideology of Equality

159

strangers, perioeci or mothakes.165 Neither, however, can be regarded as a genuine liturgy. It is perhaps different with  Xenophon’s remark that rich Spartans maintained horses for the Spartan army.166 Accordingly, it may be ascertained: The ideology of equality within the group of Spartiates did not allow individual wealthy Spartiates to use their wealth for large expenditures for the general public, thus opening up a financial competition for recognition. The homoioi were intent on translating the political and military equality they sought into social and economic equality as well. Prestige could not be acquired through the public use of money for the polis. Thus, the discursive basis for the development of a system of liturgy, which would have fixed the differences in economic, political, and social status, was also lacking. Poverty or the iron money were thus not the causes of the lack of liturgies but the consequences of a discourse that prevented both the minting of own coins and also financial services to the community.167 Thus, despite all the differences that actually existed, the open acceptance of inequalities was not possible.168 Nevertheless, communal expenses existed that could not be financed by war booty alone. Before Sparta had sufficient resources for a short time after the end of the Peloponnesian War to pay for warships, oarsmen, mercenaries, infrastructure, public buildings, and diplomatic missions, the polis had to find another way to ensure communal expenditures.  The most famous example is certainly Xenophon, whose sons were educated in Sparta. Plut. apophth. lac. Agesilaus 50 (mor. 212 b). – See on the participation of non-Spartiates in the agoge Phylarchos FGrHist 81 F 43. Ael. VH 12.43. Hodkinson (2000) 198; 342; 355. 166  Xen. hell. 6,4,11. Michell (1964) 310. Cf. also Agesilaus (Xen. Ages. 9,6), who presented himself as a public benefactor by breeding hunting dogs and war horses. – Since horses were inferior to oxen as working animals as well as insignificant as meat suppliers and were only used as mounts in war and competitions, they represented pure luxury animals whose careful care documented the wealth of the owner. – Horse breeding had been widespread in Laconia since the Archaic period. Already in the Odyssey the wide plains of Laconia, suitable for horse breeding and with sufficient fodder grasses (wheat, spelt, and barley), were mentioned: Menelaus offers Telemachus horses and chariots as guest gifts, which Telemachus, however, has to refuse because of the geographical nature of Ithaca (Hom. Od. 4,601–608). – Agesilaus recognized the military necessity of raising a working cavalry. Thus he imposed on the richest men on the western coast of Asia Minor to provide horses, arms, and horsemen in order to free themselves from the service of arms (Xen. hell. 3,4,15). Similarly, he used a total of 1500 horsemen in the Boeotian campaign of 377–376 (Diod. 15,32,1). However, cavalry traditionally played only a minor role in the Spartan army. The poor condition of the cavalry in the Battle of Leuctra (Xen. hell. 6,4,10) shows that service on horseback was less respected than hoplite service. Cf. on the function of cavalry in the Spartan army also Anderson (1970) 213–215. Lazenby (1985) 7–14. Sekunda/Hook (1998) 45–48. 167  On the connection between liturgies and the introduction of coinage, see T. R. Martin (1996), who is certainly right in his assumption; but in the case of Sparta this applies only to a limited extent: for Sparta, like 50 percent of all other poleis, made use of foreign coins, especially the widely used Aeginetian coinage, as Hodkinson (2000) 159 points out. On the role of money, see also Noethlichs (1987), who was able to show that Sparta was no different from other poleis with regard to the charge of bribery. Money played the same role here as elsewhere. There was therefore no need for a coinage of its own. 168  From this general rule only the kings, especially Agesilaus, formed an exception. He liked to show himself as a generous benefactor to the community and his friends. Cf. Xen. Ages. 4,1,7; 71; 9,6; 11,8. 165

160

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

3.4 The Invisible Actors: The Role of the Perioeci A first starting point on how Sparta generated income is offered by the aforementioned list of epidoseis.169 Among others, three individuals are named in it; from the absence of a patronymic as well as an ethnicon it can be concluded that two of these persons came from Laconia.170 Since Spartiates were prevented from using their wealth for prestigious public purposes and from being commemorated for it, the individuals mentioned can be identified as perioeci.171 Of these, a certain Molokros even provided a talent of silver to the Spartan war fund.172 The amount roughly corresponds to the cost of a trierarchy in Athens.173 Thus, individual perioeci had a fortune at their disposal that enabled them to spend large sums on the interests of the Spartan polis. The fact that a group of wealthy perioeci is to be reckoned with is also confirmed by two funerary reliefs of the period around 450 BC, which are attributed to an artist of local origin and testify to a high standard.174 The first comes from Geronthrae,175 the second from Boiai.176 However, the reliefs also provide clues as to where the wealth of individual perioeci came from: from craftworks (sculpture) and services (mention of a physician).177 Since Spartans were forbidden to earn money in any form,178 with a few exceptions, craftsmanship was concentrated in the hands of the perioeci. This included in particular the production of weapons and armour, the basic material for which, iron ore, was found in large quantities in Laconia.179 It is therefore no wonder that one of the two reliefs comes from Boiai.180 The polis was one of the most prosperous communities in Laconia. Here, iron ore was melted on a large scale,181 which was important

 IG V.1 1.  l. 13: Parmenon (?). l. 15–16: Molokros. Loomis (1992) 47. 171  For the perioeci, see Niese (1906). Ehrenberg (1924) esp. 182–189. Hampl (1937). Larsen (1937). Ridley (1974). Mossé (1977). Shipley (1992). Lotze (1993/4). Shipley (1997). Hall (2000). Eremin (2002). Mertens (2002). Shipley (2002). Lévy (2003) 138–155. Gallego (2005). Ducat (2008). Wallner (2008). Ducat (2010). Kennell (2010) 88–92. 172  IG V.1 1 l. 15–19 (side). See Loomis (1992) 53–54 for a discussion of this person. Bleckmann’s (1993) 307–308 proposal to equate Molokros with the son of Epitadas named Molobros, who fell in 425, can be rejected by pointing to the ideal of equality, which would not have permitted such donations. 173  Gabrielsen (1994) 215–216. 174  See Stibbe (1996) 254–258 for the following. 175  Ibid. 255 Fig. 138. 176  Ibid. 257 Fig. 139. 177  The second relief is accompanied by an inscription which could possibly be supplemented to ἰατρός. Stibbe (1996) 257 with 299 note 5. 178  Xen. Lac. pol. 7.1–2. These exceptions included certain occupations, such as that of oboe player or cook, which were inherited as a privilege or associated with sacred acts. On this point, see Berthiaume (1976). Cartledge (1976). 179  For the iron ore deposits see above Sect. 3.2 note 70. 180  On Boiai, see the overview in Wallner (2008) 76–86. 181  At a short distance (about 1.5 km) from Boiai, the numerous iron slags testify to the smelting of iron ore. Philippson (1950–1959) III.2 498. Wallner (2008) 81. 169 170

3.4  The Invisible Actors: The Role of the Perioeci

161

not only for the production of weapons,182 but for a variety of commodities, some of which were traded on the iron market in Sparta.183 The port of Boiai also opened up the possibility of trade with more distant areas, including the island of Cythera.184 The finds of numerous marble objects, however, also testify to the exchange of goods with other Laconian communities.185 In addition, Boiai had very fertile186 territory187 of about 170 square kilometers188 where crops were cultivated, fruit and vegetables were grown and livestock was bred. Fishing, exploitation of raw materials, and trade in purple snails189 were also among the possible forms of gainful employment. The finds from Boiai thus document an economically and socially differentiated community with a wealthy elite. To a much greater extent, the assumption of a financially strong elite is also probable for Geronthrae, from which the second tomb relief and a large number of other valuable finds originate.190 Of particular importance in this context is the rebuilding of a temple destroyed by fire in the fourth century, which still contained the remains of a statue of gold and ivory.191 The renewal of the cult building in this period as well as the earlier construction with high-quality furnishings prove the collective effort of a financially strong elite that was able to afford such high costs. Their wealth stemmed from land ownership in the fertile plain of Geraki, which was crossed by numerous streams.192 The location on the route from the east coast to Sparta probably contributed additionally to the prosperity of the community.193 Boiai and Geronthrae bear exemplary witness to the fact that the perioecic poleis possessed a differentiated social structure including a local elite.194 The existing material does not reveal any fundamental differences between Laconic and  Finley (1968) 31–32. Cartledge (2000a) 178.  Xen. hell. 3,3,5–7. 184  Cartledge (2002a) 191. 185  There were no marble deposits on the Parnon Peninsula. Wallner (2008) 81–82. 186  Wallner (2008) 208. 187  See basically on the territory of Greek poleis Audring (1989). His findings on the Archaic period are mainly based on Herodotus, Homer and early Greek poetry. The territory was divided into different areas, such as the proastion, pedion, coastal area, hill country, and eschatia country. Audring’s remarks on the economic basis of these areas can be readily applied to Classical Laconia and Messenia. See specifically Shipley (1992) on the perioecic economy. 188  Wallner (2008) 86 – This means that Boiai possessed a very large area compared to other poleis: Ruschenbusch (1985e) 258 determines the average square metre of a poleis territory to be 25–100 sq. km. 189  Wallner (2008) 213. 190  See the descriptions ibid. 142–153. 191  Paus. 3,22,7. Wallner (2008) 147. 192  See the description of the chora in Wallner (2008) 149. 193  Ibid. 194  Boiai and Geronthrae were not isolated cases, as Wallner’s (2008) 23–201 catalogue-like list reveals. 182 183

162

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

Messenian perioeci. What is clear, however, is that the perioeci as a whole – whether Laconic or Messenian – did not form a homogeneous group. The perioecic poleis differed from one another both in population size and in prosperity. The unifying element among the perioeci was their dependence on the Spartans: they were not allowed to reside in the political center of Sparta, were excluded from the assembly that passed resolutions on behalf of the Lacedaemonians, and thus from political will-forming and decision-making; as a rule, they did not pass through the agoge and did not participate in the syssitia. Moreover, perioecic cities were dependent on Sparta for foreign policy, and thus – unlike the Spartan symmachoi – could not have a say in war and peace. In short, they were ἀγαθοί, but not equal to the Spartiates.195 The internal autonomy of their polities, on the other hand, is expressed by the term πόλις,196 even though the Spartiates possessed powers of intervention and jurisdiction in disputes between perioeci and citizens.197 But why should wealthy perioeci participate with large sums of their own free will in the financing of war against Athens, as the epidosis inscription testifies?198 The desire for military protection was indeed a factor, but it certainly was not the decisive one, as is attested by the perioeci, whom Xenophon calls καλοὶ κἀγαθοί and who voluntarily went with the Spartiates to the Chalcidice.199 The obvious subordination was thus contrasted with the close connection to the Spartans: Perioeci were considered an integral part of the army and community of the Lacedaemonians. The designation Λακεδαιμόνιοι included both Spartans and

 This Herodotus (7,234,2) puts into the mouth of Demaratus, the exiled king from Sparta, in his conversation with the Persian king: οἵ γε μὲν ἄλλοι Λακεδαιμόνιοι τούτοισι μὲν οὐκ ὅμοιοι, ἀγαθοὶ δέ. “The other Lacedaemonians are not equal to these, yet they are valiant men.” 196  Hall (2000) 75–77. See, on the other hand, Mertens (2002), who opposes the notion of dependent poleis, but sees in them – similar to the Attic demes – subdivisions of the Lacedaemonian polis. This notion of a πόλις Λακεδαιμονίων has been opposed, with good arguments, by Ducat (2010), who considers a Lacedaemonian state to be a modern construct based on the equation, already inaccurate in antiquity, of the polis of the Spartans with the community of Lacedaemonians dominated by them: “Not only is this ‘confusion’ easy to explain, but this very explanation shows that it is not a real confusion, because it is perfectly true that, from some viewpoints, Sparta and Lacedaimon can be taken as being one and the same thing […]. Morevover, since everybody knew that it was the Spartans who on every occasion took the decision, it is easy to understand why Sparta and Lakedaimon could be viewed from outside as being one and the same thing.” (ibid. 190–190). See also note 203 below. 197  This suggests the right of the ephors to kill mentioned by Isocrates (or. 12,181). The right of ephors to kill perioeci without trial is certainly exaggerated and in line with the basic tendency of the speech, according to Roth (2003) 207. Perhaps this remark also stems from the lack of differentiation between perioeci and helots. Vidal-Naquet (1989) 176–177. See Sommer (2001) 36 with note 178. On this passage, see also the research opinions in Richer (1998) 452–453. 198  IG V.1 1. 199  Xen. hell. 5,3,9. The καλοὶ κἀγαθοί can perhaps be grasped as an elite group of the perioeci, according to Lotze (1993/4) 41–42. On the passage, see also Bourriot (1996) 132, who assumes that it is a purely military term. Cf. also Roscalla (2004). 195

3.4  The Invisible Actors: The Role of the Perioeci

163

perioeci200; for greater differentiation, an ethnicon was added to each: Λακεδαιμόνιοι οἱ ἐκ Σπάρτης201 or, for example, Λακεδαιμόνιος ἐξ Ἀκρέων.202 According to their affiliation with the Lacedaemonians – even though they were not citizens of a πόλις Λακεδαιμονίων composed of Spartiates and perioeci203  – foreign treaties bound them as much as the Spartiates204; they were thus equally bound to military service as the group of homoioi.205 From the Persian Wars onwards they fought together with the Spartiates, at first in separate units, but later side by side. The common army was referred to by Xenophon as the πολιτικὸν (στράτευμα).206 Similarly, the heroic deaths of individual perioeci were commemorated in special cases such as those of Spartans,207 and perioeci were able to acquire special prestige in foreign lands due to their military achievements.208 In the Peloponnesian War they

 In the sources the perioeci – just like the Spartiates – appear as Λακεδαιμόνιοι. Cf. for instance Hdt. 6,58; Thuc. 4,8,1; Xen. hell. 6,4,15. On the different and sometimes synonymous designation of Lacedaemonians and Sparta, cf. Hall (2000) 77–79. Ducat (2010) 189–199. 201  Hdt. 9,70. Cf. also IvOlymp. 244: [τ]ὸ Σπαρτιᾶτα[ι… Διὶ Ὀλυ]νπίοι ἀ[νέθεν]. 202  The Olympian Nicocles of Acriae appears alternately as Λακεδαιμόνιος and Λακεδαιμόνιος ἐξ Ἀκρέων (IG V.1 1108. IG VII 417 l. 16; 20; 50. IG IX.2 529 l. 15). See also Hall (2000) 77–79. Hdt. 9,70. 203  Explicitly, Xenophon (hell. 4,4,19; 5,3,25; 5,4,41) conceives the perioeci as part of the citizen army (τὸ πολιτικὸν στράτευμα), which – in distinction to the armies formed by allies or mercenaries – was composed of πολῖται (Xen. hell. 7,4,20). See also Lotze (1993/4) 39–40. Hall (2000) 79–80 with further evidence in note 36. According to Ducat (2010) 196–199, however, this designation cannot be used to infer a civic status for the perioeci. For him (ibid. 199–203), the Lacedaemonians were a social and cultural entity that was distinguished by various characteristics – similarities with a federal state, with a polis, with an alliance system, and with an ethnos. The perioeci would have been for the Spartans “something like a circle of ‘first friends’” (ibid. 203). That is, the perioeci were citizens of their own polis alone and not “second-class citizens”; however, this does not change the subordination of the perioeci under the citizens of Sparta. Taking up these objections, in what follows we will speak not of the “polis of the Lacedaemonians” but of the “community of the Lacedaemonians” and accordingly avoid the designation “(second-class) citizens” for perioeci. See also above note 196. 204  Hampl (1937) 1. – But this also means that the Lacedaemonians took the place of former independent perioecic communities in foreign policy, as was the case for Prasiae as a member of the Calaurian amphictyony (Strab. 8,6,14). Cf. Gschnitzer (1958) 62 note 5. 205  See on the role of the perioeci in the Spartan army Lazenby (1985) 45–49. Wallner (2008) 337–356. 206  Xen. hell. 4,4,19; 5,3,25; 5,4,41. 207  Cf. the funerary stele of a certain Eualkes of Geronthrae, who died at the Battle of Mantineia and was commemorated like a Spartiate (IG V.1 1124). Cartledge (2002a) 257. The inscription is generally referred to the Battle of Mantineia in 418 (SEG 11.915). A second inscription from Geronthrae of the same type dates to the beginning of the fourth century (IG V.1 1125). Cf. on the tombstones of Spartans who died in war and were privileged to have their names perpetuated, IG V.1 701–703 and 706–707. Plut. Lycurgus 27.3 and mor. 238 d. 208  For example, the perioecus Dexippus, who traveled to Sicily on an official mission, enjoyed great prestige because of his Lacedaemonian origins and military knowledge (Xen. an. 5,1,15 and 13,85,3–5). Millender (2006) 238. 200

164

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

sometimes assumed high naval commands209 and important diplomatic missions210; even perioecic harmosts are attested.211 All of this evidence reflects the trust that the Spartans had in the perioeci and the willingness on the part of the perioeci to cooperate. The more the Spartiates were affected by the oliganthropia, the more they conceded military responsibility to the perioeci within the army contingent.212 The perioecic soldiers, therefore, had to be trained and equipped according to their task.213 Accordingly, the perioecic hoplites were wealthy landowners who could afford the armor of a hoplite and had the economic independence to devote their time to training.214 How perioeci were prepared for army service allows conclusions to be drawn about their integration and their willingness to contribute financially to the communal costs of the Lacedaemonians. Three possibilities come to mind: First, the training of the perioeci could have been the responsibility of the perioeci themselves. Against this, it can be objected that the Spartans did not want to leave the force of their common army to chance – after all, the perioeci made up half of the hoplites in the Persian Wars and the proportion was increasingly on the rise. Some kind of control of the military training must therefore be assumed. The perioeci could, therefore, secondly, have participated collectively in the training of the Spartiates. In this case, the military training of the perioeci would have been in the hands of the Spartiates. For this purpose, the perioeci would have had to leave their often distant215 hometowns and spend an extended period in Sparta itself. But this seems impracticable since in this way the perioecic elite would also  For example, in 411 the perioecus Deiniadas commanded the fleet in the operations in the eastern Aegean (Thuc. 8,22,1). Perhaps the Lacedaemonian trierarchs and epibatai mentioned by Xenophon (hell. 7,1,12) included perioeci, since these were contrasted with the rowing staff composed of helots and mercenaries. Lotze (1993/4) 47. 210  For example, the perioecus Phrynis took on the task of finding out how many ships the Chians actually had (Thuc. 8,6,4). 211  Xen. hell. 2,2,2 (Sthenelaus as harmost for Byzantium and Calchedon); 3,2,11 (Draco of Pellana as harmost for Atarneus); 4,2,5 (Euxenos with an army of 4000 men as harmost for Asia); 5,4,56 (Alcetas as harmost for Oreos). 212  On oliganthropia or Spartan population history, see De Ste. Croix (1972) 331–332 (Appendix XVI). Forrest (1980) 131–137. Figueira (1986a). Cartledge (2000a) 37–43 and (2002a) 307–318. 213  Cf. in connection with the recruitment of helots the judgment of Finley (1968) 30: „Hoplite training, however, could not be achieved casually; the essence was movement in formation, and it was for their unique skills at this in particular that the Spartans were commended by ancient writers.“ 214  So also Shipley (1992) 224. Gallego (2005) 44. It is therefore no coincidence that two inscriptions for perioeci killed in war  come from the wealthy community of Geronthrae. See on the inscriptions above note 207. 215  See on the routes between Sparta and the perioecic poleis Wallner (2008) 210–215. 209

3.4  The Invisible Actors: The Role of the Perioeci

165

have been unavailable for internal tasks in their communities, such as settling ­disputes or organizing public duties. Moreover, the sheer mass of perioeci called upon contradicts the principle that perioeci were not allowed to reside permanently in Sparta. Far more plausible, on the other hand, is a third assumption according to which certain perioeci served as multipliers, i.e. as persons who received training, passed on their knowledge and thus contributed to its dissemination: from a statement by Xenophon it can be concluded that sons of perioeci were able to pass through the agoge due to close social relationships.216 Since the local recruitment of the perioecic troops was also in the hands of the local elite,217 both the training and the recruitment of the perioecic hoplites must have lain within their competencies. Responsibility thus fell to the perioeci, who, because of close personal connections with Spartans, had enjoyed a Spartan education and were capable of training their fellow citizens in the home poleis along Spartan lines. This military training by multipliers had two advantages: The perioecic elite was tied to Sparta through the agoge and personnel proximity, and a relationship of trust was created between Spartans and the privileged individuals of the perioecic poleis.218 This may also have been the basis for the selection of individual perioeci for high command positions. These connections were likely passed down through the family.219 Furthermore, a rather high military level was achieved with relatively little personnel. The training of the “dwellers around” by perioeci who had participated in the agoge certainly also created the precondition for those who were responsible for the recruitment of the perioecic troops to get an impression of the suitability of the respective hoplites. Furthermore, the knowledge advantage would have strengthened their social and political position within the community. For Sparta, there were two advantages: well-trained perioecic contingents and the loyalty of the most influential individuals within the dependent poleis.

 Thus, Hodkinson (2000) 353 infers from the phrase that the sons of xenoi were included in the group of trophimoi (Xen. hell. 5,3,9) the existence of other group members who were recruited from respected perioecic families. Following him Gallego (2005) 44. 217  So also Shipley (1992) 224. 218  Cf. on patronage-like connections in Sparta Xen. Ages. 1,17–18; 4–5,1; 8,1; 9,2; 11,8; hell. 5,4,26–28; Plut. Agesilaus 4,3–4 and mor. 482 d. Hodkinson (1983) 263–264 and (2000) 352–353 (perioeci); 353–354 (fellow-citizen). 219  The inheritance of social relations and social status was inherent in Spartan society. See, for example, Hdt. 7,134,2. Aristot. pol. 1306 a 18–19. Finley (1968) 32–33. Hodkinson (1983) 243. 216

166

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

This loyalty is evidenced not least by the observation that only a few cases defection by perioeci are known.220 Potential efforts to achieve a better political position221 could also have been counteracted by the close networking of individual perioecic and Spartan families. Such personal connections were certainly also used for informal influence on the (foreign) policy of the Spartans and thus compensated for the legal dependence of the “ dwellers around”. The positively experienced position within the Lacedaemonian polity and the close connection between perioeci and Spartans therefore also explain the willingness of wealthy perioeci to voluntarily contribute to the costs of war, as documented in the epidosis inscription.222 But Sparta could not wage war or erect public buildings on occasional contributions alone. Sparta, therefore, like Athens, depended on direct levies (εἰσφοραί) and the assumption of duties for the community (liturgy). Like the Spartans, the perioeci

 Thus, it is true that in the Third Messenian War the Messenian perioecic cities of Thuria and Aithaia joined the Messenian insurgents (Thuc. 1,101,2) and also after the Battle of Leuctra Laconian perioecic poleis went over to the side of the victorious troops (Xen. hell. 6,5,25; 6,5,32; 7,2,2. Xen. Ag. 2,24). But neither episode can be taken as evidence that the political dependence of the perioeci on the Spartans alone was the decisive factor: the war against Messenia apparently strengthened the sense of identity and thus the solidarization efforts of the Messenian perioeci, according to Shipley (1997) 194–195. Cartledge (2002a) 180 and 220–221. Gallego (2005) 54. In contrast, after the defeat of the Lacedaemonians, the Laconian perioecic poleis switched to the side of the invading enemies to protect their settlement from looting. On the loyalty of the perioeci, see Wallner (2008) 289–305. In contrast, see David (1980), who describes the renegade movements after Leuctra as the beginning of an active anti-Spartan policy. – Even the frequently discussed Cinadon Conspiracy (Xen. hell. 3,3,4–11. Aristot. pol. 1306 b 31–36. Polyaen. strat. 2,14,1. Max. Tyr. 35,165–168) can only serve in a limited way to prove the discontent of the perioeci. The movement remains unique in Spartan history; perhaps it was just the only serious conspiracy that could not be concealed. So also Lazenby (1997) 440. – Despite intensive analyses, Xenophon’s account remains problematic. We do not know the origin and number of perioeci involved in the conspiracy. Nor can we narrow down the circles involved: did, for instance, only perioeci in the vicinity of the settlement centre of Sparta participate? Other efforts of separation may have gone unnoticed – the efforts of the Spartans for secrecy were widely known (Thuc. 5,68,2). Against this it can be objected that the account of events takes on the function of legitimizing Agesilaus as king. On the disputed accession of Agesilaus see Xen. hell. 3,3,1–3. V. Gray (1989) 36–39. Hamilton (1991) 26–32. Cartledge (2000a) 99–115. In short, Xenophon wove the conspiracy surrounding Cinadon into his account in order to present Agesilaus in a more favorable light, according to Jehne (1995) 172. In contrast, Powell (2010) 120–121 assumes that Agesilaus used the accusation of a conspiracy to eliminate political opponents. Accordingly, Powell also does not interpret the Cinadon Conspiracy as a sign of discontent among inferior groups. See on the so-called Cinadon Conspiracy Oliva (1971) 192–193. David (1979a). Hamilton (1987) 37–38. V.  Gray (1989) 39–45. Jehne (1995). Lazenby (1997). Cartledge (2000a) 164 and 177–179 and (2002a) 273–275 and 312–314. Powell (2010) 117–121. In contrast, Hamilton (1987) and (1991) 67–85, for example, conceive of the Cinadon Conspiracy as well as the defection movements after Leuctra as signs of profound social tensions. On internal tensions, see also Flower (1991). – Cf. Plutarch Ages. 30, who knows of a second conspiracy. His credibility has been challenged with good reasons by Lazenby (1997) 440–441. 221  Cf. the motive of Cinadon given by Xenophon (hell. 3,3,11): μηδενὸς ἥττων εἶναι ἐν Λακεδαίμονι (“to be inferior to no one in Lacedaemon”). 222  IG V.1 1 . 220

3.4  The Invisible Actors: The Role of the Perioeci

167

certainly paid eisphorai223 – the inclusion of the perioeci in the Spartan contingent makes the direct financial participation of the “dwellers around” likely. The perioeci not only performed military service and paid tribute in times of need, but they also contributed to the costs of war with service and contributions in kind.224 In addition, there are indications that perioeci took on tasks that were assigned as liturgies in Athens: It was not only with their entry into the Peloponnesian War that the Spartans had ships at their disposal – remember the lochos Ploas (“seafarer”),225 the expeditions of Dorieus,226 the (late attested) Spartan thalassocracy,227 the naval command in the Greco-Persian conflicts, or the contingent that Sparta sent by ship to Athens to support Cleisthenes against Hippias.228 Perioeci involvement in these maritime ventures is obvious for three reasons: first, all of Sparta’s approaches to the sea were in perioecic territory. Of course, not all landing places were developed; for fishing, sheltered bays were often sufficient to land boats. But the Laconian territory had important ports such as Boiai, Taenarum, Las, Prasiae, the Messenian Asine, and Gytheion, where one of the naval bases and the shipyards of the Spartans were located.229 On the other hand, trade in Spartan goods is attested at a very early date.230 In Gytheion and Prasiae the trade routes to the western and eastern Mediterranean had their starting point.231 These supra-regional trade routes provided the perioeci with both the nautical expertise and the skilled rowing crews that were necessary, for example, for far-reaching expeditions such as that of Dorieus.232 Perioeci provided their ships and their knowledge of shipbuilding. This corresponded to their participation in the campaigns on land: just as the perioeci took part in the military undertakings at the latest since the Persian Wars,233 it can be assumed that the perioeci were also called upon for the maritime operations at least to the  Speech of Archidamus (Thuk. 1,80,4).  Widely known is the production of weapons and armor. The question remains whether the production and distribution of weapons were organized by the state or whether each Spartiate had to buy his own equipment. In favour of the latter is the fact that many shields bore a personal coat of arms in addition to the obligatory lambda. Cf. Finley (1968) 29–30, who argues for a “public supply system”, since the polis in the field paid for repair or replacement of armour and for the equipment of helots as hoplites. Hodkinson (1983) 256 follows him, but Trundle (2004) 123–124 has argued against this assumption with equally good reasons, so that a decision on this question cannot be made. 225  Burn (1960) 275. 226  Hdt. 5,42–43. See Pritchett (1971–1991) IV 161–163. Nafissi (1991) 314–318. 227  Diod. 7,11,1. On this see M. Miller (1971) 37–39. 228  Hdt. 5,63. 229  Thuc. 1,108,5. Xen. hell. 1,4,11; 6,5,32. 230  Cartledge (2002a) 143. 231  Gytheion formed the terminus of the sea route from Crete (Thuc. 4.53) and from Taras in Italy. See on both settlements Shipley (1992) 218–219 and (1997) 229–230 (Prasiae); 237–238 (Gytheion). 232  On the participation of the perioeci in the two expeditions of Dorieus, see Paus. 3,16,4. Cartledge (2002a) 143. 233  Hdt. 9,11,3; 9,28,2. 223 224

168

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

same extent as the Spartiates. The involvement of the perioeci in the military contingent did not only include personal commitment but also contributions in kind: Just as the perioeci produced weapons and armor for the army, they were responsible for equipping the fleet. Sparta thus made use of the maritime experience as well as the infrastructure of the perioeci in the construction or maintenance of ships, the obligation to serve in the army, and to equip the military. Two organisational procedures were intertwined: the Spartans entrusted the responsible task of raising perioecic troops to the competence of the local elites.234 They were well aware of the specific circumstances and had an information system for recruiting suitable people.235 For the financing of the war costs, it was also possible to fall back on a proto-­ liturgy system. Such a system can be assumed for the maintenance of Laconian cults,236 for which numerous sanctuaries existed all over Laconia.237 The responsibility for the construction and maintenance of these places of worship apparently lay with the perioeci, who also organized the associated festivals and provided the necessary personnel.238 In other poleis, wealthy individuals took over such tasks on a rotating basis or as a family tradition.239 We do not know how highly developed the organization was; moreover, local differences must be assumed. But on the whole, such proto-liturgy systems seem to have functioned; after all, some cults were also important for the Spartiates.240 It was certainly an advantage that the group of people who maintained close contacts with the Spartiates in the military sphere was potentially also the one who was eligible for local liturgies. Taking all these indications together, a decentralized financial organization existed in Sparta: The ephors, who were charged with controlling revenues and expenditures, functioned as the supreme financial authority. In their general supervisory role, they delegated necessary tasks, such as the construction or repair of ships, maritime infrastructure, or the production of weapons, in proportion to the capacity of the individual perioecic poleis. The local elites acted as intermediaries between the political centre and the “dwellers around”. Within the perioecic poleis, services for the community were imposed in turn on suitable individuals if certain families did not voluntarily take on these tasks. In analogy to the early forms of the

 So also Shipley (1992) 224.  Shipley (1997) 210. 236  See on the takeover of liturgies in a cultic setting Wallner (2008) 260 and 333. 237  Cf. for instance the famous Damonon stele (IG V.1 213), which recorded contests of various sanctuaries: the Poseidonia at Helos and Thuria; the Lithesia in the sanctuary of Apollo Lithesios at Boiai; the Parparonia in the sanctuary of Parparos in the Thyreatis, the Maleateia in the sanctuary of Apollo Maleatas near Geronthrae . 238  Shipley (1997) 210. Wallner (2008) 333. 239  Cf. for example on aristocratic Athens Bleicken (1995) 292–293. 240  See on the cults on perioecic territory and on the integrative performance of these cults Wallner (2008) 313–336.  – Spartan girls’ choruses gathered in the sanctuaries of Artemis Limnatis and Artemis Caryatis. Cf. also Ducat (2010) 202. 234 235

3.5 Results

169

Athenian trierarchy,241 we can call this form of perioecic internal demand for financial commitment a proto-liturgy system. The Spartans had no interest in preventing individual perioeci from acquiring prestige within their communities: While Spartiates rejected any form of lavish funerals, this was precisely not the case for perioeci. This insight can also be applied to the provision of liturgies. As long as loyalty based on a positively experienced positioning within the community of the Lacedaemonians was guaranteed, Spartiates took advantage of the efforts of the perioecic elites to gain prestige within their respective polis by performing services for the general public. Political power within the community of the Lacedaemonians, however, could not be acquired by perioeci due to their subordinate legal position – precisely because they were not citizens of a πόλις Λακεδαιμονίων.242

3.5 Results Sparta’s structure of expenditure and revenue was more complex than the judgments of Thucydides and Aristotle suggest. Nevertheless, Sparta never institutionalized public finance in such a sophisticated way as Athens. Expenditure and revenue could therefore be managed by bodies that did not need to train specialized knowledge for these purposes. From the point of view of historians living in Athens, the organization of revenue and expenditure gave a impression  of  backwardness. In addition, Spartan “secrecy” caused direct testimony on the administration to be scarce. Finally, Sparta lacked an essential characteristic of the constitution that was firmly rooted in Athens’ democratic self-image: transparency of proceedings. Disclosure of proceedings could not be demanded of the perioeci, even if they were an integral part of the community of Lacedaemonians, because of their special legal position. That we know so little of the role of the perioeci within the Spartan financial system through direct testimony is ultimately due to the general indifference of ancient authors towards this population group. In addition to this specific source situation, the Spartan income and expenditure structure illustrate another essential peculiarity: since the political community had no means of resolving conflicts within the elite by institutional means, such situations had to be prevented in which money could potentially be transformed into political influence. The Spartan polis did not function in a participatory but in a consensual way; the ideology of equality, therefore, served as a communicative medium to establish consensus and to reconnect such Spartans with the political community who were about to acquire power through wealth. The aim here was to minimize the socio-political influence of wealth.

 This can also be observed in Athens with the early trierarchy. See Gabrielsen (1994) 19–39 and (2001) 76. 242  See Ducat (2010) and supra note 203 for the citizenship status of the perioeci. 241

170

3  The Counterexample: Sparta

In contrast to Athens, no system of liturgies was developed that involved wealthy citizens in the regular financing of public tasks. Instead, wealthy perioeci took over such services for the Lacedaemonian community in the military and partly also in the religious field. In doing so, they were able to make use of a proto-liturgy system that existed in their home communities. Thus, the financial administration of the Spartans functioned in a decentralized manner: the ephors delegated the tasks to be performed to the perioecic communities according to their financial strength and number of inhabitants.243 Their elites served as intermediaries and either provided the services themselves or distributed them according to the principles in force within the individual poleis. Nevertheless, no elevation of their political rights followed from this; rather, the institutionally unforeseen involvement of the perioeci in the foreign policy decision-making of the Lacedaemonians was the precondition for their being able to use financial means to acquire prestige within their community as well as within the community of Lacedaemonians. This seemingly paradoxical situation had its origin in the fact that perioeci could not participate in political power. Therefore, the Spartans were able to allow the correlation of wealth and social prestige in perioecic poleis. Accordingly, the groups of actors in Sparta and Athens differed fundamentally. While the perioeci contributed significantly to the functioning of the Spartan polity, they could not be politically integrated into the citizen aristocracy of homoioi, which was based on equality. The political power of the liturgy system could only extend to areas that were irrelevant for the making of political opinion. For what follows, this raises the question of who exactly was called upon to provide financial services in Athens and what proportion the liturgies accounted for in relation to other revenues. Once this has been clarified, the socio-political consequences of the liturgical system in Athens can be grasped more precisely.

243

 See also Kahrstedt (1922) 318.

4

The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

In its various roles, the Athenian polis formed a specific system of public finance that was distinguished not only by its extraordinary complexity compared to other poleis, but above all by the large sums employed and available. In this, Athens was able to use natural resources, but also to tap external sources of money. Moreover, in the religious and military spheres, the private financing of public tasks by means of eisphora and leiturgia formed an established method of increasing the stock of resources and expanding the polis’ capacity to act.1 In contrast to Sparta, where non-­ citizen actors made funds available, in Athens it was mainly citizens who contributed to the functioning of the community. This privately financed share of the total costs and the resulting socio-political consequences must be assessed in the following.

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”2: eisphora and leiturgia 4.1.1 From an Extraordinary War Tax of All to a Regular Annual Tax of the Few: The eisphora Nowhere else can the changes in what the Athenians understood by a fair levy be shown in such condensed form as in the eisphora.3 Initially, the eisphora was an extraordinary monetary levy that citizens and metics had to pay in times of financial straits and therefore on a one-off basis  – or at least only occasionally. The  [Aristot.] oec. 2.1.5.  Quote based on  Aeschin. 1,11 (“the  choregos, a  man who is going to  spend his own money for your entertainment”). 3  See on eisphora in general de Ste. Croix (1953). Thomsen (1964) and (1977). Rhodes (1982). Brun (1983) 3–73. Christ (2007). Migeotte (2014a) 518–524. 1 2

© Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Rohde, From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5_4

171

172

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

Peloponnesian War institutionalized the eisphora, which subsequently quickly advanced to become an essential means of financing war,4 but underwent decisive changes in the fourth century. Two characteristics distinguished the eisphora from all other forms of collection: the principle of apportionment and the principle of ability to pay. The assembly first determined the absolute amount of the eisphorai to be collected,5 in order to then apportion the total sum to all able-bodied persons and groups of persons, regardless of age, sex, physical ability and legal status.6 All inhabitants of Attica were thus obliged to pay this direct levy; the only decisive factor was property. However, since no general property assessment existed prior to 378/7, the exact modalities of the apportionment principle remain controversial. It is most plausible that not everyone paid the same amount, but that the Solonic property classes served as the basis for

 Direct levies to finance the war existed already earlier: IG I3 41 l. 38–39 (from the year 446/5). IG I3 52 b l. 17 (so-called Callias decree from the year 434/3). Moreover, [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 8.3 speaks of the naukraroi, who collected revenue in Solonic times. According to this, unless it is an anachronism, they were charged with the collection of direct levies. See on these Gabrielsen (1985). Schubert (2008). In contrast, Rihll (1987). – Thucydides (3,19,1) speaks of 200 talents for the year 428/7. See on this and on the controversial interpretation of the phrase οἱ Ἀθηναῖοι […] ἐσενεγκόντες τότε πρῶτον ἐσφορὰν διακόσια τάλαντα. (“The Athenians […] raised among themselves for the first time a property-tax of two hundred talents.”) Boeckh (1886) I 556. Andreades (1931) 355–356. Brun (1983) 22–26. Hornblower (1991–2008) I 403–404. Samons (2000) 205. Christ (2006) 161–162. 5  Christ (2007) 59. Cf. Demosth. or. 3,4 – Such a repartition tax had the advantage that its amount – In contrast to the quota tax, where a fixed or percentage amount is levied on the taxpayer – was known in advance and the community could keep the costs of assessing the tax liability low. The repartition tax is particularly suitable for short-term financing in exceptional emergency situations. 6  Demosth. or. 14,16. 4

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

173

the assessment, as Pollux testifies mutatis mutandis.7 The fact that the eisphora fulfilled exclusively war purposes and that the Solonian property classes remained significant in the military sphere until the first decades of the fourth century speaks above all for the orientation towards Solon’s timocratic order in the apportionment of the total amount determined by the ekklesia.8 Moreover, the demarchs organized the collection of the levy9 and transmitted the names of the hoplites recruiting from the upper three property classes to the strategoi,10 who in turn administered the eisphora.11 The practice of recruitment and the collection of the eisphora thus lay within the spheres of competence of the demarchs (at the deme level) and the strategoi (at the polis level), so that the two tasks, which normally occurred simultaneously, could also be carried out in parallel.12 The division according to Solonic property classes thus represented a simple means of imposing the eisphora as a proportional levy on those who served as hoplites and were considered sufficiently financially strong. The principle of ability to pay served as a basis, which is why the share varied according to membership of the pentakosiomedimnoi, hippeis and zeugitai, and hoplites had to pay staggered amounts into the military fund according to

 So also Bleicken (1995) 296. Valdés Guía/Gallego (2010). Contra de Ste. Croix (1953) and Christ (2007). Both assume that the ekklesia set an amount that was apportioned to the richest Athenians, with everyone paying the same amount regardless of individual wealth. But how does one determine the richest citizens if there is no wealth valuation? – Poll. 8,130: “But there were four property classes: those of the pentakosiomedimnoi, the hippeis, the zeugitai, and the thetes. But the first were formed of those who earned 500 liquid or dry metretes; they paid into the public treasury one talent; the second, who could pay a horse, seem to have been formed of those who were able to maintain horses, could earn 300 metretes, and paid half a talent. But those who belonged to the class of zeugitai were formed from those who [earned] 200 metretes, they, on the other hand, paid ten minae. But those who belonged to the property class of the thetes held no office at all, and paid nothing at all.” – Pollux is not generally regarded as untrustworthy, so that he can be attested reliability in this case also. However, this is not in accordance with communis opinio: while de Ste. Croix (1953) 42–45 at least still justifies his rejection of Pollux by arguing that the Solonic classes in Classical times were only relevant for political purposes – which is incorrect – Christ (2007) 58 note 22 leaves it with a simple reference to de Ste. Croix (1953) 42–45. The fact that Christ makes it somewhat (too) simple is based on the fact that he wants to prove that there were no staggered amounts before 378/7. He justifies this primarily on the basis of the absence of a τίμημα. However, the fiscal orientation towards the Solonic classes precisely does not presuppose a general estimation of wealth. In other respects, too, graduated amounts are attested in the fourth century according to the Solonic property classes. For example, the dowry of an epikleros was to be assessed in proportion to her membership: If she belonged to the zeugitai she was to receive a dowry of 150 drachmas, if she belonged to the hippeis 300 drachmas, and if she belonged to the pentakosiomedimnoi then 500 drachmas (Demosth. or. 43,54). 8  Hansen (1995) 45. 9  Davies (1981) 143–150. Rhodes (1982) 13–14. Christ (2007) 60. 10  Christ (2001) 401. 11  Demosth. or. 42,5 and 14. 39,8. 12  The fact that Aristotle had no law defining the Solonian property classes is irrelevant here; after all, the Athenians themselves continuously referred to the census classes in the fourth century. See the compilation of evidence for the Solonic property classes in Classical times in Rosivach (2002) 43–45. 7

174

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

their ability to pay; thetes, on the other hand, were spared the eisphora.13 Accordingly, minor properties were not affected by the eisphora,14 so that at least about fifty percent of the citizens were exempt from taxes.15 The self-image as a community of citizens with equal rights and as a military community was thus not expressed in an equality of the tax burden – in contrast to the Spartan syssitia, for example – but in a “vertical equality of treatment”.16 As elsewhere, the Athenians (until 378) relied on self-assessment, which was demanded situationally when it was necessary.17 If a person was of the opinion that he was to pay eisphora unlawfully, he could, as can be inferred from parallel cases,

 Poll. 8,130: pentakosiomedimnoi: 1 talent (= 60 minae); hippeis half talent (30 minae); zeugitai10 minae. This gives the ratio 6 to 3 to 1. – From 373 at the latest the eisphorai entered the military fund ([Demosth.] or. 49,12 and 16. 50,8 and 10. SEG 48.96 = Stroud (1998) = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 26). 14  Poll. 8,130 . – The importance of this ability-to-pay principle as a basic element of Athenian notions of fair taxation can be illustrated above all by comparing it with taxation according to the equivalence principle: The principle of equivalence describes a mode of taxation in which taxpayers are taxed according to the public services that fall upon them, and when taxes are used to provide those public services for which they are levied. Especially for extraordinary contributions to war costs such a tax would lend itself, since especially in the case of indivisible public services an individual consumption can hardly be determined; it is therefore natural to assume that all inhabitants of Athens consumed the same amount of them. This would have meant, however, that everyone, regardless of wealth, would have had to pay the same contribution – as is well known, for example, for the Spartan syssitia contributions. But exactly equal levies were apparently deliberately avoided by the Athenians. 15  Number of thetes: Burke (2010) 401. The number of hoplites is estimated by A. H. M. Jones (1957) 81 for both the fifth and fourth centuries at 9000, which is about fifty percent of the population. Cf. for the fifth century Lys. or. 20,13 as well as Thuc. 8,97,1 and for the fourth century Xen. hell. 4,2,17. – Surprisingly, this finding is relatively close to the German tax ratios: here, too, about fifty percent of households pay taxes on wages and income at all, with about ten percent of these contributing about fifty percent of the tax revenue. http://www.bpb.de/nachschlagen/zahlen-und-­ fakten/soziale-situation-in-deutschland/61749/einkommen-und-vermoegen (last accessed 15.10.2016). What is meant here is revenue from payroll and income taxes alone, which accounts for only about a quarter of total tax revenue. In addition, there is also, for example, the value-added tax, which is regressive and burdens everyone equally. In 2012 it accounted for just over thirty-­ three percent of tax revenue. 16  “Vertical equality of treatment” means that obligated persons with different economic resources must be taxed differently. Applied to the Athenian eisphora, this means that those in the same Solonic property class paid the same contributions (“horizontal equalily of treatment” ), while those of a higher property class had to contribute more and those of a lower property class less (“vertical equality treatment”). On ‘vertical’ and ‘horizontal equality of treatment’ see Schmidt (1980) 141–145. 17  See Johnstone (2011) 81–110, who places the situationally demanded self-assessment in the broader framework and proves it to be a cultural characteristic. – This seems always to have been the case among the Solonic classes; one valued one’s own harvest. Rosivach (2005) 597–98. Johnstone (2011) 70 and 87.

13

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

175

evade the levy by taking an oath – without this being checked.18 However, a citizen could hardly escape the social pressure to contribute his share to the cost of war. Moreover, false statements by stubborn persons could always be challenged in court by fellow citizens.19 The system was therefore also based on the fear of denunciation. It was therefore possible to do without a consistent individual review of the economic situation of those liable for eisphora,20 so that the transaction costs were low in comparison with the personnel and material costs that a precise definition of the assessment basis would have caused. Here, high administrative costs were weighed against inaccuracies in the benefit principle: One affirmed the merit principle, but refrained from a petty implementation, as it would have meant additional costs and would have run counter to the extraordinary character of the eisphora – after all, they were to be levied only in financial emergencies. As long as eisphorai were levied only occasionally, an imprecise levying procedure was sufficient, which was nevertheless perceived as sufficiently fair. But in connection with the war against Sparta in 378/7 and the founding of the Second Athenian League, the previous structure of the eisphora levy was fundamentally modified in order to place the military revenues on a sounder basis that was adequate to the changed social structures.21 The changes concerned in particular the basis of assessment and the number of taxpayers. The Solonic property classes as the basis for calculating the levies were abandoned; at the same time, citizens were no longer to pay their shares individually. For this purpose, an assessment determined the 1200 richest citizens, who had a total wealth of about 6000 talents.22 In other words, the ability to pay was redefined, according to which only the wealthiest five percent of citizens were considered to be liable to pay taxes. The group of those liable to pay eisphora was considerably reduced from about 12,000

 Pseudo-Aristotle, for example, reports (Ath. pol. 49,2) that the council members “grant discharge to anyone who claims exemption on oath on the ground of bodily incapacity for cavalry service or lack of means.” The Athenaion Politeia gives no indication that hippeus’ claim was verified. The oath was apparently accepted until someone questioned it. Thus Rhodes (1985a) 567 on the passage. 19  Johnstone (2011) 88. 20  Cf. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47,1: In the fourth century poorer people also reached the positions of treasurer, whose eligibility was tied to the highest property class ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 7,3; 8,1–2; Aristot. pol. 1274 a 18–21. Suda s. v. tamiai). 21  Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 41. Cf. Demosth. or. 22,44. Polyb. 2,62,6–7. – It is obvious to date the establishment of the military fund, which is attested for the first time for the year 373 (SEG 48,96 = Stroud (1998) = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 26), already in the year 378 and to bring it into the context of the restructuring of the eisphora. 22  Polybius (2,62,6–7) speaks of 5750 talents, Philochorus (FGrHist 328 F 46) and Demosthenes (or. 14,19) round up the sum to 6000 talents. – The τίμημα has caused controversy in research. For example, Boeckh (1886) I 571–576, Andreades (1931) 357–359, and Bleicken (1995) 614 assumed that Polybius used this amount to indicate taxable wealth. According to Boeckh (1886) I 577, the national wealth was about 30–40,000 talents. In contrast, Beloch (1885), Lipsius (1916), and others interpreted the approximately 6000 talents as the total wealth of all the inhabitants of Attica. On the timema, see Davies (1981) 35–36. 18

176

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

to 1200 citizens, to whom, however, metics and other persons (epikleroi, orphans, invalids, cleruchs and koina) were added.23 The 1200 wealthiest Athenians were distributed among one hundred symmories (συμμορίαι), so that about twelve persons formed a symmoria.24 In the allocation, care was taken to ensure that each symmoria had about the same financial potential.25 Since the demarchs drew up a list of those in their demes obliged to pay eisphora,26 it can be assumed that they were organized on a phyle basis. This division reduced the arithmetic efforts: the assembly fixed the amount needed, which was divided by one hundred; each symmory thus paid the same amount, one hundredth of the total. Within the symmory, the twelve members of the symmory then contributed a share according to their wealth.27 If, for example, the ekklesia decided on an eisphora in the amount of twelve talents, then each symmory had to raise 720 drachmas,28 to which each symmory member contributed an average of 60 drachmas. But this system apparently did not prove successful; there seem to have been problems in collecting the sum set by the assembly – this was all the more serious as the eisphora was urgently needed to cover the costs of the war.29 Apparently, payments were delayed within the symmories due to the lack of effective ways to implement the coercive character and impose sanctions. In other words, the  Demosth. or. 14,16. – How the levying of the metic eisphora is to be imagined is uncertain. It is clear that metics paid their contribution separately from the citizens, since otherwise it would have been no honor “to pay the eisphora with the Athenians” (τὰς εἰσφορὰς εἰσφέρειν μετὰ Ἀθηναίων: IG II2 218. 237. 351. 360). On all other points, however, there is ambiguity. Metics had to yield τὸ ἕκτον μέρος (Demosth. or. 22.61. IG II2 244 l. 20), but to what this statement refers is disputed. It probably means that metics had to deliver a levy of one-sixth, according to Adak (2003) 74–75. Christ (2007) 60 is different. But how was the eisphora levied? It seems reasonable to assume that every metic was obliged to do so (Demosth. or. 22,61). Contra Christ (2007) 61. Perhaps they formed their own system of symmories, since several epigrapheis registered the timemata (Isocr. or. 17,41 with 49). This procedure had the advantage of returning control to the group of metics and allowing the polis to largely stay out of it. Since metics were not allowed to acquire landed property, they could easily conceal their wealth; the polis held the symmories as a whole responsible for the amount, leaving the metics to collect. On the metic eisphora, see Thomsen (1964) 96–102. Brun (1983) 31–32; 57–58; 62–63. Whitehead (1977) 78–80. Adak (2003) 72–77. Christ (2007) 60–63. 24  Cleidemus FGrHist 323 F 8. Isocr. or. 15,145; Demosth. or. 20,21–28. Harpocr. s. v. συμμορία. Christ (2007) 63. 25  Is. 6,60. 26  [Demosth.] or. 50,8. 27  Accordingly, each phyle formed ten symmories, named 120 persons, and distributed them among the symmoriai according to their wealth. As sums were collected within these symmories, diagrapheis kept accounts of the fortunes of the members of the symmories (Harpocr. s. v. συμμορία), so that within the symmories the timemata were also checked in order to claim the individual shares proportionally. So also Boeckh (1886) I 588–589. By contrast, see de Ste. Croix (1953) 35–36. 28  Demosth. or. 22,44 speaks of 300 talents in 25 years, which is an average of twelve talents per year. See also the next footnote. 29  There existed, despite this relatively complex system, fourteen talents of arrears out of a total eisphora sum of 300 talents (Demosth. or. 22,44–45). The sum can only mean the total collected within 25 years from the reform under Nausinikos to the time of the speech. 23

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

177

members of the symmories could assume that the diagrapheus, who checked the financial circumstances and carried out the calculations of contributions,30 could not collect the debts by force. We can only speculate about the reasons. The simplest explanation is that the poor payment morale of the members of the symmory had reached a critical mass and that the members who were actually willing to pay no longer felt obliged to do so.31 The phenomenon is known as diffusion of responsibility: The actors involved do not feel responsible in view of the behavior of others, so no one does anything.32 In this context, the size of the relatively stable and small symmories had a rather negative effect, as it facilitated communication with and about the group members as well as (controlled or uncontrolled) agreements. This deficient procedure was therefore again modified about fifteen years later. From 362 at the latest, three hundred hegemones33 now functioned as προεισφέροντες, who paid the sum to be paid by the symmory in advance (as a liturgy) and then claimed it proportionately from the remaining members of the symmory on their own responsibility without interest.34 Thus the consequences for the polis were remedied, but the actual problem was not eliminated; instead, it was shifted onto the 300 wealthiest Athenians35: the functioning of the system was even more than before the responsibility of wealthy private individuals, who (in relation to the number of citizens) accounted for about one to one and a half percent. Thus, within fifty years, the  On the task of diagrapheus, see Harpocr. s. v. διάγραμμα. Demosth. or. 27.8. Thomsen (1964) 78. Christ (2007) 65. 31  Only as long as enough other individuals behave prosocially can social pressure promote cooperative behavior, according to Rand/Greene/Nowak (2012) 429. Individual free riders can thus be tolerated by the community to a certain extent. This means that not all able-bodied individuals actually have to pay an eisphora for the system to work. So even if there were wealthy Athenians who evaded their obligations, this had no effect on the community. Only when the people unwilling to pay taxes reach a critical mass (which cannot be defined) does the system collapse. 32  Demosthenes (or. 14,14–15) clearly recognized this diffusion of responsibility and put it in a nutshell: “(14) […] Now the first and most important step in our equipment, men of Athens, is that you should be filled with such resolution that everyone shall be willing and eager to do his part. (15) For you will notice, men of Athens, that whenever you have collectively formed some project, and thereafter each individual has realized that it was his personal duty to carry it out, nothing has ever escaped your grasp; but whenever you have formed your project and thereafter have looked to one another to carry it out, each expecting to do nothing while his neighbor worked, then nothing has succeeded with you.” 33  Demosth. or. 18,103 and 312. 34  Demosth. or. 12,24 and 30; 18,103 and 312; 22,44. 42,25. [Demosth.] or. 50,8–9. Is. 6,60. Perhaps the symmories were even created in connection with the introduction of the proeisphora in order to provide the proeispherontes with the organizational framework to collect the eisphora proportionately, according to Hansen (1995) 117. According to this, the proeisphora would have been established as early as 378/7. See on the proeisphora also Wallace (1989b). 35  In practice, this system based on personal initiative could cause considerable difficulties for the proeispherontes. Thus Apollodoros reports that he was unable to collect the eisphora because, during his absence from Athens for several months, the other proeispherontes had collected the tax debt and divided it among themselves. It only remained for him to attempt to collect the outstanding sums from those who had hitherto refused to pay their share of the eisphora. [Demosth.] or. 50,8–9. 30

178

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

eisphora levy system had fundamentally changed, in that the understanding of who should justly contribute financially to the defense of the polis and who was capable had shifted in comparison to the beginning of the fourth century. Crucially, it was not that the eisphora was not particularly high, especially for the richest members of the symmory36– the proeispherontes averaged about 9.1 talents, while the rest of the eispherontes averaged 3.4 talents each37 – but that responsibility for the community was increasingly placed in the hands of a few. This was at first a matter of practicality, but it made 25,000 citizens and their families dependent on the 300 richest in their ranks. The eisphora underwent no further significant organizational changes in the period that followed and seems to have been so firmly established and accepted that fifteen years later, in 347/6, it was transformed into a regular tax.38 Accordingly, in the field of war finance alone, the Athenians accepted the development into regular levies, which in modern terminology may be called property taxes. If the τετταρακοστή had failed as late as the 390s39 by the middle of the century the relationship between the polis and the wealthy individual had changed so much that a system of levies, previously felt to be inappropriate to a free citizen, was now approved as a matter of course. Acceptance was based not only on the fact that the levies were tied to military purposes and were intended to secure the military capability of one’s own community, but above all on the self-image of those liable for the levy: It corresponded to the positively perceived positioning in society that tied the right to property to the

 From Demosthenes we know that he paid 1800 drachmas in the period between 376 and 366, i.e. an average of 180 drachmas per year (Demosth. or. 27,37). If the amount is an average value, it is not an exorbitantly high sum, but for “the 300” it meant that each of them had to advance about 700 drachmas. – Cf. also Lys. or. 19,43: father and son paid a total of forty minae during the Corinthian war (Lys. or. 19,29 and 57). The eisphora was thus not particularly high on average. However, it could bring even a relatively wealthy citizen to the limits of liquidity when additional burdens were added (Demosth. or. 22,65). A. H. M. Jones (1957) 84. 37  Ruschenbusch (1985a). 38  For the period between 347/6 and 323/2 an annual eisphoraaltogether ten talents is attested. It benefited the maritime infrastructure, specifically the construction of shipyards and Philon’s arsenal (IG II2 505 l. 12–17. 1627 l. 49–51. Syll.3 346). However, the ekklesia could still set additional amounts (IG II2 244 l. 12–13. Dein. 1.69). Thomsen (1964) 238–244. Brun (1983) 54–55.  – Moreover, during this period (approx. 335), mining parcels were now also taken into account in the assessment of wealth, so that new financial resources were opened up for eisphora and liturgy (SEG 43,46). Stanley (1993). P. Wilson (2008) 121. 39  This two and a half percent property tax is attested only in a few Aristophanic verses (Aristoph. Eccl. 823–829). It was introduced at the suggestion of a certain Euripides apparently in the 390s, but was quickly abandoned. On this subject see Schol. Aristoph. 825. Thomsen (1964) 184–185. Boeckh (1886) I 577. 36

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

179

duty to use one’s above-average wealth in the interest of the whole.40 Of course, this development did not occur in isolation, but in parallel with that of the liturgy system.

4.1.2 The Dependence of the Civic Community on the Liturgists Basically, a distinction must be made between eisphora and liturgy. The former exclusively concerned property, and was therefore imposed not only on citizens and metics, but also on epikleroi, orphans, invalids, cleruchs, and koina.41 Liturgies, on the other hand, consisted in σώματι καὶ χρήμασι duties,42 i.e. personal services that were linked to financial expenses. Accordingly, while liturgies were also tied to wealth, they were, moreover, additionally tied to a minimum43 or maximum age,44 to physical fitness, and (almost always) to civic status. In contrast, the citizen who was obliged to perform a liturgy did not have to demonstrate any special competences.45 Liturgies can basically be divided into two classes: the recurring (cyclic) and the extraordinary liturgies. The cyclic liturgies comprised all regular tasks, preferably in the religious sphere, such as the choregy or the gymnasiarchy, while in the

 Incidentally, this obligation is also firmly anchored in the German Basic Law (Article 14 § 2): “Eigentum verpflichtet. Sein Gebrauch soll zugleich dem Wohle der Allgemeinheit dienen.”. 41  Demosth. or. 14,16. 42  Cf. Lys. or. 19,58. On liturgy see generally Boeckh (1886) I 533–554. Andreades (1931) 310–313. Kahrstedt (1934) 217–228. N. Lewis (1960) and (1965). Davies (1967). M. R. Christ (1990) and (2006) 156–171. Engen (2010) 43–47. Günther (2010). Specifically on trierarchy Gabrielsen (1994) and on choregy P. Wilson (2000). 43  The choregos for the boys’ choruses had to be older than forty ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3). Minors including ephebes were exempt from liturgies (Lys. or. 21,5. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42,5). Gabrielsen (1994) 245. However, orphans received citizenship two years before their peers, but were exempt from liturgy for one year after reaching adulthood (Lys. or. 32,24). 44  A high age was apparently no excuse for choregia, while for the trierarchy, as for all military duties, one was ineligible after the age of 60. However, some examples of trierarchs older than 60, 70 and even 80 are attested. See evidence in Gabrielsen (1994) 247 note 29. Probably the trierarchy was rented out in these cases, as it suggests for Isocrates (Isokr. or. 15,5 with 9). 45  This represents a parallel to the cavalry: Thus, those who served in the cavalry of Athens had to have an appropriate physical constitution and a minimum age. Special abilities, however, were not even required of the hipparch, who was drawn from the ranks of the liturgists and chosen primarily for his wealth, influence, and popularity (Demosth. or. 4,26–27). Bugh (1988) 164–165.  – The incompetence of some hipparchs who had taken on this task for prestige therefore evoked criticism. At the very least, Demosthenes (or. 21,174) accuses his opponent Meidias of incompetence. Bugh (1988) 160–164. – For this reason, hired but expert non-Athenians sometimes commanded the cavalry. Bugh (1988) 160. 40

180

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

military sphere wealthy citizens made warships seaworthy when necessary46 and the richest among them also took over the proeisphora.47 Since the individuals who provided liturgies and those who served in the cavalry were partly identical48 and similarly organized, it can be assumed that the recruitment procedures of the liturgists and the horsemen were roughly parallel. The process is described in some detail for the latter in the Athenaion politeia49 and can be reconstructed as follows: On the basis of the previous years, the demarchs drew up a list of those 1200 persons who were potentially eligible as liturgists on the basis of their landholdings in the respective demos, and submitted the list to the council.

 This also included organizing the manning with oarsmen as well as specialized personnel (hyperesia). For this purpose the councillors and demarchs compiled a list with the names of the rowers ([Demosth.] or. 50,6). Sometimes also slaves were used as oarsmen Hunt (1998). 47  The maintenance of a war horse (hippotrophia) occupied a special position, which was of a military nature, but had to be provided as long as one served in the cavalry. However, the pride and military obligation of serving as a hippeus, tied to ancient aristocratic honors, certainly outweighed the continual financial burden for some. For this reason, hippotrophy is rarely mentioned  – an exception being Hypereid. 1,16 – in the court speeches. Thus, although Xenophon (oec. 2,6) lists hippotrophia among the liturgies, significantly Lycurgus (1,130) condemns it (as well as choregy) as self-serving in contrast to trierarchy. Cf. also, for example, the famous Bryaxis base, which a father erected together with his two sons, full of pride in his hippotrophia, on the occasion of victory in the anthippasia: Nat. Arch. Mus. Ath. Inv. 1733 with IG II2 3130 = SEG 32,250. cf. also Ath. Agora Mus. Inv. I 7167 and I 7515. see on these monuments Goette (2007a) 120–122.  – Apparently the phylarchos (and not a liturgist) organized the anthippasia based on phyle, according to P.  Wilson (2010) 49. Since training and participation was tied to regular service in the cavalry (Xen. hipp. 3,1 and 10–14), it certainly did not require the financial input of a liturgist, according to Pritchard (2012) 30. 48  For example, Critobulus, who appears with Socrates in Xenophon’s Oeconomicus, had both assumed various liturgies and served in the cavalry (Xen. oec. 2,6). Similarly, the speaker of the 19th Lysian speech was both a liturgist and a horseman (Lys. or. 19,57; 59; 62–63). See on this Davies (1971) no. 5951. Cf. also Philoctemon, son of Euctemon, who was both hippeus and had assumed a trierarchy on several occasions (Is. 6,5). See on this Wevers (1969) 61. Davies (1971) no. 15164. Perhaps comparable is Komaios, whom Kroll (1977) no. 13 identifies with Komaios Komonos Semachides, who had also been trierarch. 49  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 49,2. The assembly elected each year one katalogeus from each phyle. These ten katalogeis made a preliminary selection for their respective phyle, on the basis of the list of the preceding year, of those who were financially and physically fitted for the cavalry, and drew up a bipartite list of present and prospective horsemen respectively. These katalogoi they sealed and delivered to the hipparchs and phylarchs, who in turn forwarded the lists to the council. At a council meeting, the hipparchs and phylarchs opened the ten and twenty lists, respectively, and called up the listed persons in order, so that the council could examine them personally. In the process, the names of those who swore that they were no longer physically able to serve as hippeis, as opposed to the previous year, were first erased from the pinax. Then came the turn of those who were newly registered. If they swore that they were not physically or financially able to serve in the cavalry, then they were discharged. About the remaining kateilegmenoi who did not apply for discharge, the council decided, whether that person met the physical requirements of a horseman. On this basis, a final list was then drawn up for the current year. It can be assumed that this procedure was introduced in the course of military reforms or fortification work after the Battle of Chaeronea and optimized the previous procedure. Since then the katalogeis came into use. Accordingly, it can be inferred, demarchs had previously had the task of making lists of suitable individuals. See also Bugh (1988) 170–171. 46

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

181

If choregoi, trierarchs or other liturgists were needed, the responsible officials (generals or archons) could refer to this list. Three important consequences resulted from this procedure: First, liturgies were not bound by a minimum wealth, since in determining liturgies one counted down progressively from the richest until all services had been distributed.50 Therefore, second, the group of liturgists was economically heterogeneous, even though most of them owned land worth three to four talents.51 Third, the assessment of who was obligated to liturgies was based on land ownership. Therefore, with a few exceptions in the cultic sphere, metics were generally excluded from liturgies,52 even if they were known to be very rich. Although trierarchs from the circle of foreigners living permanently in Athens can be proven,53 the responsibility for warships was generally not left to metics, since it was considered inappropriate to grant non-Athenian the command54 (though subordinate to the strategos) over citizens.55 For this reason, the redemptioning from obligations was also frowned upon,56 even if the service was assured, it would have made no difference to the polis, and other – perhaps even better-suited – groups of people could be drawn, for example, to the trierarchy.57 The same applies to the choregy: on the occasion of both the Great Dionysia and the Panathenaea, the polis exclusively entrusted citizens with the organization, decoration, and financing of the performances, while at the Lenaea, metic choregoi also

 Gabrielsen (1994) 45–53.  Davies (1971) xxiii–xxiv. 52  See on metic liturgies basically Adak (2003) 77–94. 53  See for example IG II2 40 l. 10. 1491 l. 26. 1492 l. 106. 1609 l. 27. 1623 l. 204–205; 251–252; 268–275. 1631 l. 435. Demosth. or. 45,85. Whitehead (1977) 85. Clark (1990). Gabrielsen (1994) 61. Jordan (2001). 54  [Demosth.] or. 50,50. 55  Thus Phormion, the former slave of the new citizen Pasion, assumed a trierarchy only after he had attained citizenship (IG II2 1622 l. 472; 1623 l. 246–248; 1629 l. 645–656). See on this person also Davies (1971) no. 11672.  – His son also took a trierarchy (IG II2 1623  l. 103–104 and l. 300–301) and choregy (IG II2 2318 l. 335–336). 56  Thus Demosthenes (or. 21,166) accuses Meidias of having bought his way out of his obligation by means of a newly instituted ἱππικὴ πεντηκοστή, i.e. a two percent. levy. Cf. A. Martin (1886) 381–382. Bugh (1988) 163. – Since Xenophon (hipp. 9,5) made a similar proposal, such a financial compensation may be regarded as probable. 57  Cf. for example Demosth. or. 21,163. 50 51

182

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

made their personal and material contribution to the success of the festival.58 It is precisely the different treatment during these three festivals that reveals that not only economic considerations but also different degrees of participation played a role in the commitment to liturgies.59 Liturgies were thus not only a financial ­instrument, but also a means of political-legal distinction that made it clear that one belonged to the polis community.60 In addition to the status-specific feature, there were further characteristics: Although it is known from other areas that the polis very well subjected its citizens to fine-meshed control of their property if it was in their interest,61 the Athenians refrained from corresponding administrative structures within the liturgical system and preferred self-assessment. For this reason, it was possible to disguise or hide (ἀφανίζειν or ἀποκρύπτεσθαι) one’s property or parts of it in order to contribute

 Wijma (2014) 70 and 73–75. This is also known from Iasos and Delos. On this, see Fraser (1995) 73 with evidence. – Of the seven known choregoi used at the Lenae, five can be clearly identified as metics (Lys. or. 12,20. Hesperia 37 (1968) no. 51. SEG 32,239 l. 3). Wijma (2014) 70 with note 21. If the coincidence of tradition does not distort the circumstances, the choregies on the occasion of the Lenaia weighed mainly on the shoulders of metics. – From these liturgies are to be separated in principle those which were reserved for metics and therefore functioned as status markers. The metic liturgy par excellence was the skaphephoria, the carrying of a bowl-like vessel called skaphe during various processions, so also on the occasion of the Panathenaea and the Dionysia (Anecdota 280,1. 404,7 Bekker). On these occasions, metics of ephebic age (Harpocr. s. v. σκαφηφόροι) carried skaphai filled with honeycombs and cakes, probably identical with those stored in the Parthenon (IG I3 342 l. 24). Despite this functional incorporation of the metics into cult activity, the skaphephoria could be perceived as humiliating. Especially for metics who had lived in Athens for a long time – perhaps for generations – and were well connected to the citizen elite, the skaphephoria marked an inferior status and made not belonging visible and tangible: Dinarchus brought against Agasicles (Din. Frg. 16,3 = Harpocr. s. v. σκαφηφόροι) that his sons had taken part in the Panathenaic procession as ephebes instead of skapheporoi. If Dinarchus’ reproach was justified, as may probably be inferred from the parallel tradition (Hypereid. 3,3 and Harpocr. s. v. Ἀγασικλῆς), the case shows in all clarity how especially wealthy metics were anxious to act like citizens even in the religious sphere. Comedy could therefore use skaphe or skaphephoros even condescendingly as a synonym for metic. Wijma (2014) 52 on testimonia. See on the skaphephoria Adak (2003) 93–94. Wijma (2014) 78–80 (Dionysia); 37–38 and 45–47. (Panathenaea). 59  In contrast to the festival for Dionysus celebrated in March/April, the agon on the occasion of the Lenae was open to all free men of Attica, so that metics were not only allowed to participate in the choruses otherwise reserved for citizens, but also mixed with the citizens in the audience and in the pompe (Schol. Aristoph. Vesp. 935 c+d). P. Wilson (2000) 28–31. – On the participation of the metics in the religious sphere, see fundamentally Wijma (2014). 60  Especially for wealthy metics this must have been perceived as dishonorable. After all, individual metics were well connected to the Athenian elite. Moreover, clear social distinctions were lacking in daily life. Cf. E. E. Cohen (2000) 49–78. Finally, numerous metics had shown themselves to be benefactors towards the polis. See Adak (2003) 65–193 for a basic discussion of this. 61  For example, those who owned a sacred olive tree on their property were inspected annually (Lys. or. 7,25), “for you supervise the matter [the sacred olive trees] every month, and also send assessors every year, none of whom has ever penalized me for working the ground about the sacred olives.” 58

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

183

less or even no liturgy.62 On the one hand, the unbureaucratic way in which assets were valued opened up the possibility of evading liturgies in times of lack of liquidity63; on the other hand, they also put the potential liturgist in a precarious situation if unfounded rumours about his assets circulated.64 Some therefore forestalled an official appointment and took on a festive liturgy without being asked.65 Voluntariness, social pressure and arbitrariness thus accompanied the liturgies. However, the nominees could raise regular objections and apply for relief, which was then decided by the jurors.66 There were six options open to be exempted: First, illness was a ground for exemption.67 Secondly, no one was required to take on two liturgies at the same time in one year.68 This also applied to the proeisphora.69 Thirdly, one had the right not to be forced to take over the same liturgy twice, which obviously only applied to the different choregies, but not to the trierarchy.70 Fourthly, a liturgy-free interval could be claimed, in form of one year for religious liturgies,

 [Demosth.] or. 50,8: “For when you had voted that the members of the council on behalf of the demesmen should report the names of those who were to pay taxes in advance, both of those who were members of the demes and those who owned property in them, my name was reported from three demes, as my property was in land.” Cf. also, for example, Lys. or. 21,12. Din. 1,70. Demosth. or. 42,22–23 and 45,66. Aeschin. 1,101. Is. 11,47. – This involved investing in invisible assets, that is, in goods that could not be estimated by others and were easily concealed. For example, Lysias kept more than three talents of silver, 400 kyzikenoi, 100 darics, and four silver cups in a chest in his private chambers (Lys. or. 12,11). Significantly, he had offered a talent of silver – a sum apparently thought credible and not unusual to possess in cash (Lys. or. 12,9). Demosthenes’ father had also apparently under-valued his property or had not declared all of it; in any case, he is not known to have ever taken over a liturgy. See on him Davies (1971) no. 3591. – Lysias or Demosthenes senior may have let one or the other “disappear” out of self-interest; other Athenians did so in the fourth century not least out of real or perceived need of money, cf. Lys. or. 22,13: “And it seems to me a strange thing that, when they have to contribute to a special levy of which everyone is to have knowledge, they refuse, making poverty their pretext.” On the concealment of property, see Gabrielsen (1986) 99–114. Christ (2006) 191–194. 63  On the avoidance of liturgies Christ (1990) 147–169. Lyttkens (2013) 111–115. 64  Cf. for example Lys. or. 19,11. Lysias gives further examples in his 19th speech (On the Property of Aristophanes), as also in or. 19,42–49 and explicitly in or. 19,58: “For as many as fifty years my father performed services to the State, both with his purse and with his person. In all that time, with his reputation for ancestral wealth, he is not likely to have shunned any expense.” 65  Cf. for example Demosth. or. 21,13. 66  On the procedure called skepsis, see [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3. P. Wilson (2000) 57–61. Cf. [Xen.] Ath. pol. 3,4. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 61,1. IG II2 1629 l. 204–217. – In a diadikasia procedure, as documented in Demosth. or. 42 (Against Phainippos), the jurors had to decide who was to take over the liturgy, without requiring an exchange of property. – Under certain circumstances, a trierarch even sought refuge at the altar of Artemis Munichia (Demosth. or. 18,107). Cf. Wankel (1976) I 576–577. 67  [Plut.] mor. 838 a–839 c. 68  Demosth. or. 20,19. 69  [Demosth.] or. 50,8–9. 70  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3. Demosth. or. 20,18. This agrees with the most detailed source on the liturgies (Lys. or. 21,1–6), which in fact lists only different choregies. 62

184

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

and in two years in the case of a trierarchy.71 Fifth, it was possible to invoke ateleia, which meant a general exemption from financial and personal benefits.72 Sixth, it was possible to indicate that someone else was better suited than oneself to perform the liturgy, while at the same time invoking an antidosis procedure. In the context of a ἀντίδοσις, the person called upon to conduct the liturgy designated another who seemed more suited to a liturgy (or eisphora).73 Since antidosis proceedings jeopardized reputations, involved disclosure of property, and were complicated, the parties involved probably often settled the case outside of court, with those confronted with an exchange of property feeling compelled to take the liturgy even if they were convinced of the baselessness of the claims.74 Some ­certainly took it upon themselves to overextend their financial resources rather than expose themselves publicly. In a society where honor was a high commodity, one refrained from asserting one’s law-abiding claims if loss of reputation was to be expected. If the liturgist was legally appointed and there were no objections, he was obliged to perform a leiturgia either in the religious or in the military sphere. Among the religious

 Demosth. or. 2,8. Is. 7,38 (according to the Law of Periander 358/7). Rhodes (1982) 2. Karvounis (1999). – These exemptiones were regarded as privileges, as honorific δωρειαί (Demosth. or. 20,2). P. Wilson (2000) 59. 72  Demosth. or. 20,30–48. Cf. for example the honoring of the king of Sidon (IG II2 141 = Rhodes/ Osborne (2007) no. 21), which stipulated that all Sidonians who came to Athens for trade purposes should be exempt from metoikion, choregy and eisphora. – A peculiarity among the ateleis was formed by the descendants of the tyrannicides Harmodius and Aristogiton, who not only possessed the right of dining for life in the prytaneion, but were also exempt from all duties. Demosth. or. 20,18 and 127–130. Is. 5,47. Cf. Hdt. 5,55–62. 73  Here the person named as liturgist gave the archon (or, in the case of the trierarchy, the strategos) the name of another person who seemed more suitable for a liturgy (or eisphora) – either for financial reasons or because he could not claim a liturgy-free interval. In the demos Icarium, twenty days were apparently set aside each year for antidosis procedures as part of the choregy (IG I3 254 l. 5–7). A similar procedure can be assumed for the urban liturgies. P. Wilson (2000) 333 note 36. The person thus urged to justify himself could either adopt the liturgy or face the antidosis procedure. On antidosis generally, see A. R. W. Harrison (1968–1971) II 236–238. MacDowell (1978) 161–164. Gabrielsen (1987a). Christ (1990). Gabrielsen (1994) 91–95. Apostolakis (2006). 74  Cf. the case described in Demosth. or. 42 (Against Phainippos).  – If, however, no agreement could be reached, the two parties went to court. Each had to make inventories of property, debts, and obligations for this purpose. These inventories, sealed by an oath (Demosth. or. 42,18), were given to the court usher, who read them to the jurors (Demosth. or. 42,16 and 25). If the dicasts decided to grant the complaint, then an exchange of property was consummated, and the challenger complied with the obligation to conduct the liturgy. How this exchange of property is to be imagined in practice is answered in different ways. In the past, it was assumed that a complete exchange of property was actually carried out. It was probably more practical to exchange only the difference in assets, which could be easily calculated on the basis of the inventory lists. Cf. Lys. or. 4,1, where only the movable property is mentioned. – Although a large number of antidosis processes are known, there is not a single actually performed exchange of property documented in connection with a liturgy. Hansen (1995) 114. 71

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

185

and therefore regular duties were different liturgies, such as the lampadarchia75 or gymnasiarchia,76 the errhephoria,77 eutaxia78 or the hestiasis.79 At the Great Panathenaea alone, the main festival celebrated on a grand scale every four years in honor of the city goddess Athena, gymnastic, musical, and equestrian competitions took place that surpassed all others in scope. The most famous of the religious liturgies, however, was the choregy (χορηγία), with which was associated the financial and organizational responsibility for the performances of the dithyrambic hymns, the tragedies as well as comedies on the occasion of the Panathenaea, the Great and the Lesser Dionysia, Thargelia, Prometheia, and Hephaisteia.80 In total, 97 liturgies had to be assigned each year in the middle of the fourth century, and as many as 118 liturgies in years when the Great  The torch race was one of the most popular contests of all (Aesch. Agam. 312–314. Aristoph. Ran. 1087–1098) and was frequently depicted on vases. Such agones took place at the Lesser and Greater Panathenaea, the Hephaisteia and Prometheia (IG I3 82 l. 31–35. II2 2311 l. 88–89). On this, see Davies (1967) 35–37. Kyle (1987) 190–193. J. L. Shear (2001) 335–339. – The runners (lampadephoroi) came from a rather higher social stratum, according to Pritchard (2003) 299 and 328. 76  The terminology is sometimes ambiguous; thus gymnasiarchos also refers to the one who finances a torch race ([Xen.] Ath. pol. 1,2. Xen. vect. 4,51–52. IG II2 1250 l. 3. 3019. 3023). On the gymnasiarchia see Günther/Weise (2014). 77  The errephoria (or arrephoria) was performed by two (or four) Athenian girls (the arrephoroi) of distinguished house, between the ages of seven and eleven, who lived on the Acropolis for eight months and participated in various cultic acts in honor of Athena – including supervising the weaving of the peplos. The eponymous ritual consisted of a nightly walk by the girls, during which they carried sacred (and secret) objects from the Acropolis to the sanctuary of Aphrodite, exchanged the objects there for others (also secret), and brought them in turn to the sanctuary of Athena. We know the rite only from the imperial account of Pausanias (1,27,3), therefore much remains uncertain. – The liturgy, if it was one in the proper sense of the word, apparently consisted in the provision of white vestments and gold ornaments, which were consecrated after the service. The errephoria is seldom mentioned in the orations of the court, as, for instance, in Lys. or. 21,5. This may have its explanation in the fact that the father of one of the girls paid for it, which is why it was not a liturgy in the proper sense, but a task that rotated within the (quasi-aristocratic) elite. Because of its aristocratic character, it hardly seemed opportune in court to boast about this task. Cf. also P. Wilson (2000) 42–43. 78  The short-lived eutaxia was probably a competition between ephebes, which had been introduced in the course of the ephebic reform around 334 and was abolished again under Demetrius of Phaleron in 317. 79  During the Dionysia, banquets, financed by ten liturgists, were held for the ten phylai. What exactly the liturgists provided remains unclear and depends on which occasion one assumes. While P. Wilson (2008) 116 assumes that it was a banquet held on the competition day of the dithyrambs and therefore required additional sacrificial animals, it is more likely that the hestiatores took care of bread, food, and wine for their fellows of their phyle on the occasion of the great sacrifice after the procession. On the hestiatores see also Schmitt Pantel (1992) 126–131. 80  On choregy in general, see P. Wilson (2000). Specifically on the choragic monuments Agelidis (2009). On the artistical agons on the occasion of the Panathenaea Kotsidu (1991). On the dithyrambos Pickard-Cambridge (1970). Ieranò (1997). B. Zimmermann (2008). – This form of financing is not unique to Athens, but can be traced in inscriptions elsewhere, namely at Oropos, Orchomenos, Thasos, and of course Delos. On choregia outside Athens, see P.  Wilson (2000) 279–302. On votive offerings on the occasion of choregic victories outside Athens, see Agelidis (2009) 19–20 (Oropos); 20–21 (Orchomenos); 21–22 (Delos); 22 (Thasos). 75

186

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

Panathenaea took place.81 The Great Dionysia alone required a total of 28 liturgies for the dithyramb choruses, comedies, and tragedies, including the satyr plays.82 And even the relatively modest Thargelia still required twenty choregoi. The whole year was structured by a multitude of festivals; continuously the participants of the musical and dramatic agons had to be selected, trained and equipped.83 In the process, the sponsors (χορηγοί) were confronted with massive expenses, manifold troubles, and long periods of intense rehearsal84: The liturgist first had to assemble the civic choruses, acquired secondary choruses, extras or props, organized the rehearsal space (sometimes in his private house), paid a chorodidaskalos for the rehearsals, hired pipers and actors, took care of equipping the people involved with costumes and masks, and financed a feast after the performance.85 Expenses varied according to genre86 and occasion.87 The documented sums therefore range from 300 to 5000 drachmas.88 The other cultic liturgies tended to be less expensive, costing up to 1500 drachmas.89 It was left to the discretion of the individual to decide how much effort was required: he weighed up the time involved, costs, financial resources, sense of duty to the community and  Davies (1967) 40. See also the overview by Pritchard (2012) 35.  Of the 28 choregois, three took over the tetralogies, five the comedies, and finally twenty the boys’ or men’s dithyramb choruses. 83  Furthermore, Athens sent choruses to Delos, for which a choregos was also responsible ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3). 84  Xen. Hieron 9.11. The selection of suitable citizens took place already one month after the Dionysia, which underlines the high organizational effort (Lib. arg. Demosthenes 21). Pickard-­ Cambridge (1988) 75. – The religious liturgies incurred costs of varying magnitude: they ranged from smaller, less elaborate rituals such as errhephoria to architheoria and choregia. On the relative cost of architheoria, Aristotle (eth. Nic. 4.1122 a 22–25) remarks that it would be cheaper than trierarchy. This formulation has evoked different interpretations. While P. Wilson (2000) 328 note 187 assumes that the architheoria would have been comparably expensive to the equipment of a warship, the opposite can also be assumed: Aristotle may also have meant the two ends of the scale, implying that financing a embassy was much less costly than a trierarchia. Similarly, Rutherford (2013) 216. 85  Aristoph. Ach. 1154. P. Wilson (2000) 102. 86  Cf. table 4.2 in P. Wilson (2008) 113: a choregy of a tragedy cost on average about 3500 drachmas, of a comedy 1600 drachmas, of a dithyrambic male chorus 5000 drachmas, and of a dithyrambic boys’ chorus 3000 drachmas. 87  For example, there was a greater willingness to spend more money on choregies on the occasion of the Great Dionysia than on Thargelia (Schol. Demosth. or. 20,28). P. Wilson (2008) 114. 88  Thus in 409 the furnishing of a cyclic chorus on the occasion of the small Panathenaea cost 300 drachmas (Lys. or. 21,2) and a dithyrambic male chorus including the consecration of the tripod at the Great Dionysia in the same year 5000 drachmas (Lys. or. 21,2). Cf. Table  4.1 in P.  Wilson (2008) 113. – We have little evidence for estimating the cost. Of the total of nine figures for various choregies, eight alone come from the 21st speech of Lysias (defense against the charge of bribery). The figures coincide with references from another Lysianic speech (Lys. or. 19,24 and 42), in which 5000 drachmas are mentioned for two choregic expenses in the late 390s. Here, except for the dithyrambos of paides, every category of musical agon is attested. 89  See Pritchard (2012) 29–32 for the cost of individual liturgies at the Great Panathenaea in the 380s, with the highest sum (1500 drachmas) spent on participation in the ship race (hamilla neon). 81 82

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

187

expectations of the behavior of people in his social position. At times, the choregoi virtually issued a “blank check” and had everything bought and paid for what the didaskaloi demanded.90 Some even spent their entire cash assets in the process.91 The polis, on the other hand, was concerned solely with securing the tasks92 – which, however, in hard currency terms, accounted for more than half of the total expenditure: The amount of private charges for the Great Dionysia, for example, was just under 16 talents,93 with total expenditures amounting to about 30 talents annually.94 Public and private expenditures were also balanced for the Great Panathenaea: of the roughly 26 talents, 13 talents were financed by liturgist.95 The functioning of the polis as a cult community was thus dependent on the private fortunes of the wealthiest Athenians; in view of the cultic, social and political importance of the Panathenaea and Dionysia, the entire polis community was virtually dependent on the good will of the hundred or so liturgists. And the major events, as well as the many smaller festivals, were not the only occasions on which liturgies were used as a tried and tested means of financing. The second major area in which liturgists allowed large-scale access to private assets for public purposes was the fleet. The financial benefits associated with a trierarchy can be divided into three groups96: those that were obligatory, those that  Antiphon. 6,13. cf. Xen. mem. 3,4 and equ. 1,26. P. Wilson (2008) 111. – Since the costs for the cyclic choruses were much more extensive than for the dramatic choruses because of their size, the polis subsidized the dithyrambic performances if necessary. No information is available for the cost of the actors, so these expenses, like the wages of the poets, may also have been paid by the polis. See Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 90. 91  Cf. the case described by Lysias (or. 19 On the Fortune of Aristophanes), even if the speaker was interested in talking Aristophanes’ fortune as small as possible. Apart from his piece of land at Rhamnus (or. 19,28) he owned hardly any movable property (or. 19,27). The reason given is his liturgies (or. 19,29): “and in four or five years it was a difficult thing, gentlemen, when he had no wealth to start with, to be twice a producer of tragedies, on his father’s account as well as his own; to equip a warship for three years in succession; to have been a contributor to special levies on many occasions; to purchase a house for fifty minae; and to acquire more than three hundred plethra of land. Do you suppose that, besides doing all this, he must have left many personal effects?” Nevertheless, he kept making liturgies and eisphorai to the total amount of allegedly nearly fifteen talents (Lys. or. 19, 42–43). 92  In contrast, the social expectation was different, as Socrates puts it in the Xenophontic Oeconomicus (Xen. oec. 2,6): “[…] Whenever you seem to fall short of what is expected of you, the Athenians will certainly punish you as though they had caught you robbing them.” 93  P. Wilson (2008) 114 calculated that the choregoi provided a total of between ten and fifteen talents for the five-day choral performances on the occasion of the Dionysia. In addition, there were other expenses, such as smaller individual sacrifices in the interest of their own oikos, expenses on the part of the demes, the phylai and genai. In total, therefore, P. Wilson (2008) 119 assumes that fifteen talents and 3900 drachmas were privately financed. A few years earlier, P. Wilson (2000) 95 and (2003) 168, he estimated private expenditures as high as about eighteen talents. 94  P. Wilson (2008) 119; see Sect. 2.3.1 above. 95  Pritchard (2012) 32. See Sect. 2.3.1 above. 96  On the trierarchy, see the seminal work of Gabrielsen (1994). See also Strasburger (1939). J. I.Armstrong (1949). Silverman (1994). Kaiser (2007). 90

188

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

the trierarch advanced and could (at least theoretically) reclaim from the polis after the trierarchy had expired, and those that were voluntary. The first group, the obligatory expenditures, included making the hull drawn by lot97 seaworthy and keeping it in working order for a year.98 In addition, the ship’s equipment (σκευή) provided by the polis had to be supplemented, mended,99 or procured on one’s own from the predecessor, if necessary.100 However, since the circumstances and responsibilities for the owed ship’s tackle were not always clear, and in order to avoid the potential conflicts that might result, trierarchs sometimes procured their own equipment (σκευή).101 The transition between obligatory and voluntary services thus was fluid. Voluntariness as a response to arbitrariness also applies – perhaps even more so – to the second group of expenses of a trierarch. Normally, the trierarch received money from the general during the campaign to pay and feed the ship’s crew. However, since campaigns on land and sea were regularly underfunded,102 the trierarch could not rely on regular payments and had to take responsibility for these expenses himself. In this case, large sums of money accumulated: Since pay and rations amounted to about one drachma per day, the trierarch in the worst case advanced as much six talents from his own funds during a six-month trierarchy.103 At least a punctual payment of the rations in the amount of three obols was indispensable.104 The third group was formed by voluntary trierarchic expenditures, which included decorating the trireme with ornaments (κόσμος) – some of them golden! –105 and to  Gabrielsen (1994) 80–84.  See Robertson (1927) 114–116 Ruschenbusch (1987a). 99  In times of need, for example, when many ships were sent out, there could be shortages in the arsenals. In such cases the ship equipment of those who did not want to sell theirs was confiscated ([Demosth.] or. 47,44). 100  [Demosth.] or. 47 (Against Euergus and Mnesibulus). Thus, although trierarchs had to undergo an εὔθυνα at the end of their service and had to hand over the ship in full, including the equipment, there were often outstanding debts, which were meticulously accounted for. Damage could also result in a charge, although damage caused by war or weather was excluded. In IG II2 1631 l. 169. 1632  l. 189–190 a phasis is attested, perhaps for damage to public property. See on the φάσις MacDowell (1991). 101  Cf. for example [Demosth.] or. 50,36 and [Demosth.] or. 47,23: “must tell you that hitherto, although I had often served as your trierarch, I had never taken equipment from the dockyards, but had supplied it at my own private expense whenever need arose, in order that I might have as little trouble as possible with the state.” – The speaker was not an isolated case; Apollodorus ([Demosth.] or. 50,7 and 42) and Demosthenes (or. 51,3) also possessed their own equipment, which they occasionally took over second-hand for about 30 minae from their predecessor ([Demosth.] or. 50,28). 102  See Sect. 2.4.3 above. 103  200 drachmas per day for the ship’s crew, at 30 days per month. See Sect. 2.4.2 above on the remuneration of fleet soldiers, in particular Table 2.6. 104  He could therefore, if he did not refuse to do so for reasons of prestige, claim these posts in the normal case after his obligatory rendering of account. On the accountability of the trierarchs cf. [Demosth.] or. 50,10. Boeckh (1886) I 634–636. – This involved the ten logistai drawn from the council members, who regularly checked the logoi of the office-bearers and council members (Aeschin. 1,107. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 54,2). In addition, the cross-checking was done by ten other magistrates (synegoroi), each assisted by two secretaries ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 54,2). 105  [Demosth.] or. 50,7 and 34. 97 98

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

189

equip it in such a way that it was considered the best of the entire fleet.106 The mixture of obligatory, optional, and for status reasons not reclaimed sums opened up a certain discretion to the liturgist as to how he fulfilled his service – provided that the ship entrusted to him was ready for action. The costs usually ranged from 2000 drachmas for a jointly exercised trierarchy, a so-called syntrierarchy, to one talent for a trierarchy.107 On average, a sole trierarch had to calculate with 4000–5000 drachmas.108 In this sense, the ratio between privately financed services (approx. one talent per year, per ship) to public expenditures for the fleet (approx. one talent per month, per ship) was not as balanced as postulated for the choregies; nevertheless, the naval forces substantially depended on the trierarchs here as well. For there were good reasons for adhering to the principle that a trierarch personally accompanied the operation – and this despite the fact that he usually lacked the military qualifications and despite the fact that the system was rationalized more strongly: since the final phase of the Peloponnesian War, the trierarchy could be carried out in association with others.109 In doing so, the syntrierarchs agreed on different procedures: Either time was shared, so that each served six months on the trireme,110 or only one of the syntrierarchs sailed with the fleet, while the other(s) shared in the costs.111 The further development of the trierarchy was therefore two-­ pronged: on the one hand, the trierarchy of one individual always remained the

 Lys. or. 21,6 [Demosth.] or. 50,12. Commanding the fastest trireme in the fleet had the additional advantage of being used as an aviso-ship for the transmission of messages, but less for combat operations. 107  2000 drachmas for the share in a rented out syntrierarchy: Demosth. or. 21,80 and 28,17. 4800 drachmas for a syntrierarchy = 2400 drachmas for a trierarch: Lys. or. 32,16 and 26–27. 8000 drachms in three years = 2667 drachmas on the average: Lys. or. 19,29 and 42. Six talents in seven years = 5143 drachmas on an average: Lys. or. 21,2. 6000 drachmas for a trierarchy: Demosth. or. 21,155. See Gabrielsen (1994) 49–50; 118–125; 215–216. 108  Gabrielsen (1994) 216. 109  The first syntrierarchy is attested by Lys. or. 32,24 for the time between 408 and 406, see Gabrielsen (1994) 174. Syntrierarchies of at first two and later up to ten persons were not unusual (IG II2 1613 f l. 212. 1622 c l. 359. 1622 e l. 608. 1632 a l. 56–59 and 123–128). Boeckh (1840) 179. 187. Strasburger (1939) 109. Gabrielsen (1994) 175. – Thereby not seldom father and son took over a trierarchy together, cf. e.g. Lys. or. 19,62. 110  [Demosth.] or. 50,68. 111  [Demosth.] or. 50,40.  – Unfortunately, the exact conditions remain unknown, even though Apollodorus, for example, described his situation to the jurors in great detail. It is clear that his syntrierarch contributed to the expenses, but did not himself serve on the ship. But how were the pro rata amounts calculated? How did the two agree, for example, on the need for and amount of the cost of the golden ornaments? Or for the oar-crews, which, after all, were not composed of Athenian citizens, but of hired mercenaries? From what Apollodorus describes, it can be assumed that he alone bore the cost of everything that was not directly demanded by the polis. For example, the ship’s tackle belonged exclusively to him – otherwise he could not have sold or pawned it – and lent parts of his landholdings to pay the recruited rowers. 106

190

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

ideal, on the other hand,112 various reforms attempted to increase the operational readiness of the fleet and to distribute the trierarchic costs on several shoulders according to individual performance.113 The first step was the reform of Periander (358/7), when the Social War put a considerable strain on fleet financing. At this time, the system of symmories was also transferred to the trierarchy114: the 1200 liturgists were grouped into twenty symmories of sixty men each.115 The costs were now shared equally (and not in proportion to their wealth) by the members of the symmory, known as synteleis.116 When the war against Philip, fought at sea, exposed the deficiencies in the organization of the trierarchy,117 Demosthenes enforced a reform in 340. Now the 300 richest Athenians bore the full responsibility and most of the burdens.118 They were first required to undertake the repair of all needed triremes, on the model of the proeispherontes, and then apportioned the actual cost to their respective symmory members in proportion to their wealth.119 The organization and advance financing now rested on the shoulders of 300 persons; thus the decisive step was taken from a σώματι καὶ χρήμασι-obligation (an obligation “in person and money”) to a monetary levy and thus to a tax.120

 Despite the great financial and personal burdens, the takeover of a trierarchy by a single person did not disappear: Thus, three speeches have survived in the Corpus Demosthenicum that explicitly deal with the equipment of the Athenian fleet ([Demosth. or.] 47 and 50 as well as Demosth. or. 51). Of these three speeches, [Demosth. or.] 47 (Against Euergus and Mnesibulus) and Demosth. or. 51 (On the Trierarchic Crown) mention single trierarchies. Also the document IG II2 1609 (at the latest from the year 370/69) lists predominantly pairs, but beside it also single trierarchs appear (IG II2 1609 col. II l. 46–47; 57–58; 96; 98). Even after the symmory system had been transferred to the trierarchy around the year 358/7, by which the individual should be relieved, single trierarchs are still attested (IG II2 1629 l. 730–775. Is. 5,36 and 7,38). 113  On the trierarchic reforms, see Gabrielsen (1994) 182–213. 114  In the process, the two apparatuses were apparently not brought together. Already Boeckh (1886) I 609–623 and 647–661 assumed that the Athenians organized two systems of symmories, one for the eisphora and one for the trierarchy, so also Rhodes (1982) 5–11. Gabrielsen (1994) 183–190. Christ (2007) 68. By contrast, see Ruschenbusch (1978). Mossé (1979b). MacDowell (1986). Ruschenbusch (1987e) and (1990). The latter argued that there was only one system of symmory after the Reform of Periander, which served both the eisphora and the trierarchy. 115  Number of 1200: Demosth. or. 21,155. 14,16–17. Isocr. or. 15,145. Harpocr. s. v. χίλιοι διακόσιοι. Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 45. Poll. 8,100. Schol. Demosth. 21,154 and 155. – Whereas previously individuals had drawn the triremes, the approximately 300 ships were henceforth distributed among the symmories, so that each symmory was responsible for about fifteen warships, according to Gabrielsen (1994) 193.  – On the Reform of Periander, see MacDowell (1986). Gabrielsen (1990) and (1994) 182–199. 116  Demosth. or. 21,155. 18,102–108. Gabrielsen (1994) 196. 117  Plut. Phocion 14. [Plut.] mor. 851a. Diod. 16,77,2. 118  On the reform of Demosthenes, see Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926) 1204–1205. Gabrielsen (1989a) and (1990). Ruschenbusch (1990). Gabrielsen (1994) 207–213. 119  Demosth. or. 18,102–108 and 312. cf. Demosth. or. 14,17. Aeschin. 3,222. Din. 1,42. Isocr. or. 8,128. 120  Mossé (1979b) 41, who, however, already links this to the Law of Periander 358/7. 112

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

191

As a reaction to the enormous costs of the trierarchy – after all, it corresponded to the income of a skilled worker of about ten years121 – the Athenians thus tried to reduce the burdens for the individual and to distribute them more evenly. As a consequence, for about seventy-five percent of the trierarchs this liturgy turned into a levy for which (as in the case of the eisphora) a small circle of 300 persons was responsible. At least since the Periandrian reform, there were institutionally two kinds of trierarchs: Payers and persons who, as civil financiers, accompanied the triremes entrusted to them. The Athenians, however, did not take the last, actually obvious step of transforming the trierarchy into a pure levy; they adhered to the principle that a trierarch personally took part in the operation – and this despite the fact that he usually lacked military qualifications and despite the fact that the system was rationalized to a greater extent. Traditional and practical reasons were mixed, which made the personal presence of the trierarch absolutely necessary: Since the polis had no choice but to underfund fleet undertakings,122 it depended on individuals who were responsible for one ship at a time and, if necessary, could provide for the ship’s crew if the strategos was insufficient to maintain the fleet. An eloquent example is provided by Apollodorus, who received only two months’ wages for his crew of oarsmen (albeit hired)123 and had to secure their daily rations in part himself.124 Therefore, he borrowed three times during his trierarchy: once in Athens itself,125 then a maritime loan in Hieron,126 and finally a loan in Thasos.127 The trierarch thus had to tap external sources of money. An indication that this was common practice is offered by the hiring of a trierarch (μίσθωσις τριηραρχίας – trierarchic lease).128 In this, the trierarch paid one or several middlemen (referred to as οἱ παρὰ δ. δ.) to accompany the trireme instead of him. The letting of the trierarchy was neither explicitly permitted nor welcomed, but

 The calculation is based on the fact that the trierarchy, as explained above, can be estimated at about one talent and a skilled worker earned about two drachmas (Sect. 2.1.1 note 46). Thus, the expenditure for a trierarchy is roughly equivalent to eight times the annual minimum subsistence income of a household of five in Athens. Scheidel (2017) 195. 122  Sufficient funding was not possible at all, because the length of an operation could not be estimated and because the polis could not provide enough money in advance, as explained above in Sect. 2.4.3. But it was also simply not practicable to send warships into battle with enormous sums of money on board. 123  [Demosth.] or. 50,10. 124  [Demosth.] or. 50,23. 125  [Demosth.] or. 50,13. 126  [Demosth.] or. 50,17. 127  [Demosth.] or. 50,23. 128  See also Gabrielsen (1994) 95–102 on the renting out of the trierarchy. 121

192

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

at best tolerated,129 so that we learn of misthosis, if at all, only from the defamation of opponents.130 Consequently, even if direct evidence for the renting of the trierarchy is scarce,131 this does not mean that misthosis was rarely practiced  – on the contrary,132 there was a veritable market in which the renting of the polis-owned trireme could be hawked; supply and demand determined the price.133 This illustrates two things: on the one hand, the wide spread of the trierarchic lease (μίσθωσις τριηραρχίας), which was able to establish itself in the economic fabric and even institutionalize itself. On the other hand, there existed a sufficiently large circle of

 However, the trierarch was in a legally precarious position if he left the ship delivered to him to another for a fee, since he could be charged with having “betrayed their ships and deserted their post” (προδεδωκέναι τὰς ναῦς καὶ λελοιπέναι τὴν τάξιν, Demosth. or. 51,8). This Demosthenes (or. 21,166) equates with desertion or army escape (λειποταξία or στρατείας ἀπόδρασις) in his wrath against Meidias. Such a charge provided for capital punishment (Demosth. or. 51,9). See for evidence that leaving the ship was taken as desertion Gabrielsen (1994) 244 note 23. – Such a charge, however, was rarely brought; we know of only one such trial (Demosth. or. 5,9): in the aftermath of the maritime defeat at Peparethus by Alexander of Pherae, Aristophon instituted an eisangelia trial against those trierarchs who had not performed their conduct in person but had given it to intermediaries. The accused trierarchs, however, were not convicted. The wording in Demosth. or. 51,8–9 is not entirely clear. On this point, see Hansen (1975) 118–119. Cawkwell (1984) 340. 130  Including the case already mentioned, the renting out of the trierarchy appears altogether six times in the sources; all evidence comes from the Corpus Demosthenicum, three of them concern Meidias and his brother Thrasylochus: In 364/3 Demosthenes was forced by means of the threat of an antidosis to take over the syntrierarchy of Thrasylochus. However, the latter had already let his share of the trierarchy, so Demosthenes’ liturgical duty was to hand him 2000 drachmas (Demosth. or. 21,80). The second evidence (Demosth. or. 51,8) comes from the speech On the Trierarchic Crown. There we learn about the renting of the trierarchy, which, after the defeat of Alexander of Pherae, entailed the juridical epilogue mentioned above (see the previous note). The third record concerns Thrasylochus again and can be dated to the year 360. This time Apollodorus ([Demosth.] or. 50,52) describes that Thrasylochus at first personally accompanied the trireme entrusted to him, but then rented it out during the operation. During the same fleet enterprise another misthosis can be traced; at least two middlemen had taken over the pro rata syntrierarchy of a certain Phrasierides ([Demosth.] or. 50,42). To the same year 360 can be dated the fifth case, when Demosthenes claimed the trierarchic crown for his trierarchy, since those who had been awarded the crown had left their syntrierarchy to an intermediary in return for payment (Demosth. or. 51,7 and 11). The last example refers to Meidias, who, while on duty with his trireme, left his ship in the hands of a middleman in order to perform other duties in Athens (Demosth. or. 21,163). 131  Moreover, only the trierarch, although he left his ship to an intermediary for a fee, appeared in the official documents. 132  Thus Thrasylochus is explicitly said ([Demosth.] or. 50,52) to have sailed himself on the trireme (αὐτὸς ἔπλει), from which it may be inferred that this was not self-evident. In the same sense Demosthenes uses the plural, and speaks of the accusation of several trierarchs (Demosth. or. 51,8). 133  Demosthenes reproaches his opponents with having left the ship entrusted to them to him who was satisfied with the least remuneration (Demosth. 51:7): σκεψάμενοι γὰρ τὸν ἐξ ἐλαχίστου τριηραρχεῖν βουλόμενον, μεμισθώκασι τὴν λῃτουργίαν. “For they sought out the man who would take their trierarchy on the lowest terms, and have let the service to him.” Cf. also Schol. Demosth. 21,80. 129

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

193

people who took on triremes and the associated obligations in return for remuneration.134 The advantages of misthosis trierarchias for the trierarch are obvious135; but why should a person voluntarily assume the trierarchy without being obliged to do so? After all, a fleet operation bore unforeseeable risks. The sums put out for hire  – twenty or thirty minae for a proportion in a syntrierarchy, sixty minae for a entire trierarchy –136 seem to have been inadequate compensation for the imponderable financial and personal perils; after all, the amount covered only standard expenses, as comparison with the usual amount of trierarchy suggests.137 Additional, unforeseen burdens had to be borne by the salary (μισθός)-recipients themselves.138 Why, then, should the middlemen enter into such imponderables? It was common knowledge that private individuals used their triremes for plundering towns or whole stretches of land, for capturing, extorting protection money

 These intermediaries of the trierarchs can almost never be identified for the same reasons why renting out rarely appears in the sources. Only in two cases are more detailed statements possible. Thrasylochus, for example, rented out his trierarchy to a certain Callippus ([Demosth.] or. 50,52). His position within the fleet operation remains undefined; what is clear is that he possessed Athenian citizenship. This refers to Callippus, son of Philon, from the demos Aexone ([Demosth.] or. 50,47). See on this Davies (1971) 274–276. Ballin (1978) 176–177. – The second case is much more revealing. From the speech Against Meidias we learn that Demosthenes’ opponent had let his trierarchy to the Egyptian Pamphilus (Demosth. or. 21,163). Accordingly, even non-Athenians (metics and strangers) sometimes accompanied Athenian trierarchs as deputies of the actual trierarchs, and had unlimited authority over them ([Demosth.] or. 50,52: αὐτοκράτωρ). Accordingly, there is something to be said for the fact that metics were hired as experts and thus their potential was made useful to the polis. That a regular, if not widespread, metic trierarchy existed, as Adak (2003) 84–86 assumes, cannot be concluded from the evidence, however. 135  In this way the trierarch could escape military dangers and the risk of a sea voyage, did not have to place his domestic affairs in the charge of another, need not leave his business or farm, could calculate on a fixed sum, and yet publicly boast of having assumed a trierarchy. 136  Twenty minae: Demosth. or. 21,80. Thirty minae: Demosth. or. 51,11. Sixty minae: Demosth. or. 21,155. 137  See supra note 107. 138  Apollodorus reports this from the intermediaries of Phrasierides ([Demosth.] or. 50, 41–42): “(41) […] For about the same time Mnesilochus of Perithoidae and Phrasierides of Anaphlystus were appointed to succeed Hagnias and Praxicles. But, since Phrasierides did not arrive to join the ship, Mnesilochus went to Thasos and took over the trireme from Hagnias, (42) and paid to Hagnias what the latter convinced him was due for the expenses he had incurred on their behalf while serving as trierarch beyond his time, and hired from Hagnias the ship’s equipment, and assumed himself the duties of trierarch. Afterwards, when the men from Phrasierides came, they paid his share of the expenses to Mnesilochus, and for the remainder of the term joined in meeting whatever expenditures he required for the ship.” 134

194

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

and for capturing ships.139 Many a person took advantage of the threat to the sea routes for a lucrative business: grain freighters and other merchant ships sailed in squadrons and gathered for this purpose at certain points, such as Sestus or Cape Geraestus.140 To protect the merchantmen from pirates, Athens had these merchant ships escorted by triremes.141 If one wanted to do without the escort, Athenian ship commanders extorted protection money for sparing the ships. This represented a common means of financing military operations.142 The looted goods belonged to the polis,143 but the booty was – illegally – not always declared.144 The polis could hardly control strategoi operating far away, much less every trierarch, even if the problem was common knowledge.145 Moreover, since private and public financing of war could not always be clearly separated, the Athenians usually accepted that generals and trierarchs enriched themselves – as long as they did not do it too obviously and their loyalty to Athens remained unquestioned.146 Whether operating independently or in association with corrupt generals, trierarchs were thus able, at least occasionally, to line their own pockets and provide for their ships’ crews.147  Demosth. 51,13–14: “(13) When a man who has taken the trierarchy for hire sets sail, he plunders and pillages everybody; the profits he reaps for himself, but whoever it may chance to be of you citizens pays the damages; and you alone of all people are unable to travel anywhere without a herald’s staff of truce because of the acts of these men in seizing hostages and in provoking reprisals; (14) so that, if one looks at the matter frankly, he will find that triremes such as these have sailed forth, not for you, but against you. For a man who serves as trierarch in the interest of Athens ought not to expect to grow rich at the public expense, but ought by means of his own resources to repair the losses of the state, if you are to have the service which you need.” – On “legitimate” σύλαι, see Bravo (1980). Cf. for instance the episode described by Demosthenes (or. 24,11–14). 140  Hopper (1982) 98. 141  Sometimes one offered safe conduct also to the merchant ships of foreign cities. This is documented for Maroneia ([Demosth.] or. 50,20). 142  See Sect. 2.4.3 above. 143  Lib. arg. Demosthenes 24,1. Demosth. or. 24,12. Pritchett (1971–1991) V 415–425. Gabrielsen (2001) 78–79. 144  Thus the trierarchs Archebius and Lysitheides brought on a merchant and allegedly captured nine talents and 30 minae (Demosth. or. 24,11–14). 145  Demosth. or. 8,25. Cf. also the Lysian speech Against Ergocles, which deals with the difficulties of controlling strategoi and their confidants and the consequences for public finance (Lys. or. 28,1–5). 146  Hypereid. 1,24–25. 147  Lys. or. 29,4: “How very strange that, whereas men of property lament that they have to equip warships, this man, who was previously possessed of nothing, at that time volunteered this public service! So it was not to penalize him that he appointed him to equip a warship, but to let him profit by it and also keep guard over his own funds, since he had nobody whom he could trust above this man.” Cf. also Lys. or. 28,2 and 4. Hell. Oxyrh. 1,1–27. One of the greatest problems was the transfer of the booty to Athens; for this various ways of smuggling the profits past the polis institutions are conceivable. The statement of Apollodorus ([Demosth.] or. 50,56) that he could borrow money anywhere testifies to the socio-economic interconnectedness of the eastern Mediterranean world. Accordingly, corrupt trierarchs or professional mariners hired for a trierarchy could reinvest their profits in commercial transactions or deposit them with “bankers” or temple banks such as those at Ephesus. Xenophon, for example, deposited valuables in the Ephesian temple (Xen. an. 5,3,5–9). Cf. also Dion. Chrys. 31,54. 139

4.1 “My Money for Your Entertainment”: eisphora and leiturgia

195

But not all trierarchs or their middlemen acted unlawfully; after all, aischyne kept many from adikemata.148 They also had other options open to them, within the bounds of what was legally justifiable, to use the ships profitably.149 Trierarchs made use of their regular contacts with maritime trading centres as well as their good knowledge of trading activities and local markets: for example, they made the limited space of a trireme available for the loading of goods.150 Involvement in trade transactions was even easier to accomplish when a trierarch commanded a barge rather than a warship.151 Moreover, by means of maritime loans, one could invest in merchant voyages, to the protection of which one contributed with one’s trireme.152 The connection between trierarchy, credit, and profit was so firmly established in

 See on the role of sense of shame or honor as an action-guiding moment Balot (2010) 101–103.  On the private use of warships, see also Gabrielsen (2001) 77 and (2007) 254–256. 150  Demosth. or. 21,167. 151  A striking example is given by Demosthenes in his first speech against Philip II (Demosth. or. 4,16–28). There Demosthenes first speaks of fifty triremes (Demosth. or. 4,16), while a few sentences later he speaks of “ten fast ships” (Demosth. or. 4,21 and 4,28). In addition to this nautical contingent, Demosthenes’ strategic proposal includes an army consisting of five hundred hoplites and two hundred horsemen. According to this, the remaining forty triremes were to be used for the transport of horses and other loads. Accordingly, the ships called triremes by Demosthenes could be used for military purposes as well as for the transport of goods. 152  This can be assumed for Apollodorus: The strategos ordered Apollodorus to sail to Hieron and accompany the grain-carriers. Now while the general was preparing the departure of the fleet, Apollodorus took out a maritime loan (ναυτικόν) of 800 drachmas from a ναύκληρος in Sestus ([Demosth.] or. 50,17–18). The city of Hieron was situated only a few miles from the northern entrance to the Pontus on the Asiatic coast of the Bosporus, and served especially for grain-ships as a stopover on the voyage from the Pontus to Athens (cf. also [Demosth.] or. 35,10). It therefore stands to reason that Apollodorus went to Hieron with the borrowed money and the plan to invest in grain on those transports to which he gave escort to Athens with his trireme (which is why he also thought he was going back to Athens on the return journey from Hieron to Sestus, especially since it was already mid/late September [Demosth.] or. 50,19–21). The interest was one-eighth of the total amount, i.e. 12.5 percent; the loan sum and interest were to be repaid by Apollodorus when the ship had landed intact in Piraeus ([Demosth.] or. 50,17). Thus the details correspond to the basic structure of an ordinary maritime loan: money was borrowed at a relatively high rate of interest for the duration of a commercial voyage, whether for a single (ἑτερόπλους) or round trip (ἀμφοτερόπλους). The loan and interest had to be repaid only if the ship arrived safely at its destination and the goods were discharged. The risk was therefore borne by the lender. This meant that if the ship’s cargo was lost through no fault of the borrower, for example through shipwreck or piracy, the borrower did not have to pay the sum. The cargo or the ship usually served as security, and this was twice the amount borrowed. Typically, the interest rate on loans was 1 percent per month, while the interest rate on maritime loans was a minimum of 12.5 percent and a maximum of 30 percent. See on the high interest rates of the maritime loan Xen. vect. 3,9–10, [Demosth.] or. 34,23 and 25 (30 percent). [Demosth.] 50,17 (12.5 percent). See also Millett (1983) 36 with 186 note 2. E. E. Cohen (1992) 44; 52–55. – That liturgists frequently invested in maritime loans can be inferred from Theophrastus’ study of the milieu. Thus Theophrastus (char. 23.2 and 6) has his boastful man show off about the intricacies of maritime loans, the gains and losses from maritime transactions, and also about his liturgies and trierarchies. But there is also concrete evidence: for example, Demosthenes senior (Demosth. or. 27,11) or Nausimachus and Xenophithes (Demosth. or. 38,11) each granted ναυτικά. 148 149

196

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

the fourth century, not only in Athens153 but also in the Hellespont region,154 that investing in war through loans was a profitable business.155 The polis accepted such practices, or at least looked over them, in order to maintain the efficiency and willingness to perform of the trierarchs, since it depended on the wealthy citizens in the context of fleet financing. It could – and had to – rely on well-connected, economically experienced individuals. This dependence on a relatively small group of citizens subject to liturgy had far-reaching socio-political consequences.

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class Since the liturgy system was largely based on personal initiative and commitment, it was not uncommon for liturgies to face charges greater than those theoretically demanded.156 The polis could not take action on its own, but those aggrieved, if the adversaries did not come to an amicable agreement,157 had to file charges themselves in a private lawsuit in order to reclaim the benefits that had been unlawfully demanded.158 Such a case is presented in the speech Against Polycles, which gives us an idea of the difficulties that liturgists had to contend with and the enormous financial and personal commitment that was required of them.159 The subject of the trial was the cost of an additional trierarchic service which Apollodorus was compelled to perform in the place of a certain Polycles. For, according to the elaborate written  [Demosth.] or. 50,13.  [Demosth.] or. 50,17 and 23. 155  Eich (2006) 445. See on the connection between coinage, mercenaries and market activity in the fourth century Günther (2016a). 156  No other testimony formulates so clearly and in such detail the fundamental principle of self-­ government as the Demosthenic speech on the reform of the symmories (or. 14). The proposal is aimed at the reorganization of the liturgy or eisphora duty bearers, the trireme, the apportionment of expenses, the manning and the ship’s equipment. In all these areas no specially appointed officers are employed, but solely by persons already commissioned, and in the conduct of the draw the polis participates as a superior authority. See on this speech also below Sect. 5.1. 157  Cf. for instance [Demosth.] or. 50, 41–42, where Apollodorus describes a case that was resolved without conflict. The passage is quoted above in Sect. 4.1.2 note 138. 158  Such conflicts could even escalate into physical confrontations, resulting in several trials. The speaker describes one such case in detail and impressively in the speech Against Euergus and Mnesibulus ([Demosth.] or. 47). On this speech and the question of authorship, see Blass (1887–1898) III.1 543–549. Karvounis (2008) 34–40. 159  [Demosth.] or. 50 (Against Polycles). On the speech in general, see Blass (1887–1898) III.1 527–531. Schäfer (1885–1887) IV 147–152. Brown (1974) 47–57. Ballin (1978). Trevett (1992) 12–13. Karvounis (2008) 40–44. See on Polycles Kirchner (1901–1903) no. 11988. Davies (1971) 465–466. Develin (1989) no. 2567. 153 154

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

197

account, the litigant repeatedly refused to stake over  the trierarchy. From this, ­considerable financial, temporal and personal burdens arose for Apollodorus: He had to recruit mercenaries in addition to the citizen rowers,160 pay at least in part for the wages and food of his ship’s crew (instead of receiving them from the strategos),161 prove himself in military danger,162 resist attempts to involve him in unlawful action,163 and at the same time solve his problems at home resulting from his total absence of fifteen months.164 Apollodorus, as might be expected in such a trial, highlights his commitment to the polis. But the comparison shows that his burdens, while exaggerated (and as such probably recognizable to the audience),165 were nevertheless not exceptional: Not only did the speaker of the 47th Demosthenic speech also have to stem the costs of a total of three trierarchies or syntrierarchies and endure the dangers of at least one fleet operation, but he also took a beating; persons had entered his house in his absence, seized parts of his property, and injured a wet nurse. He repeatedly pleaded the legality of his request to the boule and eventually had to endure two more court hearings.166 Accordingly, to take over a trierarchy meant a much greater burden than to spend several thousand drachmas in repairing a ship; it cost time, money, and nerves. One wonders, therefore, why Athenian liturgists did not resist taking on

 [Demosth.] or. 50,11.  [Demosth.] or. 50.10 with 23. 162  Apollodorus describes how, though he did not face battle with his ship, he had to brave bad weather and fear an attack ([Demosth.] or. 50,22). 163  [Demosth.] or. 50,46–51 . 164  His mother became ill and died soon after. His wife also had health problems. And over all hovered the Damocles’ sword of debt, since the estate was mortgaged and drought threatened the harvest ([Demosth.] or. 50,59–62). – During this time he put the supervision of his estate in the hands of a friendly neighbor ([Demosth.] or. 53,4). 165  The jurors certainly recognized the exaggerations, but were not allowed to expose them, since the behavior claimed was normatively valid, the speaker also represented the norm of the common good, which could not be shaken. To expose him as a less good citizen would at the same time have called into question the ideal and thus the foundation of the polis. 166  [Demosth.] or. 47 (Against Euergus and Mnesibulus). 160 161

198

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

such services.167 That the takeover of a trierarchy promised prestige is a significant factor, but it does not yet offer a sufficient explanation, as a glance at other poleis shows. Thus several staseis are known, which were caused by the financial burden of the wealthy.168

4.2.1 The Civil Strife in Rhodes 391 Thus, an economically motivated civil strife (stasis) occurred in Rhodes in 391, in which the oligarchs gained the upper hand.169 Only four years earlier, a democratic constitution had been established. The decisive factor for the repeated political change was the introduction of remunerations (μισθοφοραί), typical of a democracy, which had made public institutions more expensive. The spokesmen tried to cover the new expenses by refusing certain payments to the wealthy.170 The latter, as trierarchs, had received the public commission to build and equip warships. For their part, they contracted with shipbuilders and initially laid out the cost. However, when the trierarchs were not reimbursed for the expenses, they could no longer pay

 Individuals may have left Athens to live as metics in other poleis. But this was no real alternative, even if rich Athenians not infrequently owned land elsewhere. This was concisely expressed by Andocides (or. 1,5): “That entirely misrepresents my feelings, gentlemen. I would never consent to a life abroad which cut me off from my country, whatever the advantages attached to it; and although conditions in Athens may be what my enemies allege, I would sooner be a citizen of her than of any other state which may appear to me to be just now at the height of prosperity. […].” On the one hand, the status of a metic was not very attractive, since one’s legally inferior position always meant that one’s person was at risk. One did enjoy official legal protection, but this could sometimes be suspended if it seemed to serve public order. On the other hand, emigration could be interpreted as flight and therefore as treason. Therefore, in court speeches one could discredit one’s opponent by accusing him of having left Athens, while one claimed of oneself to have gone out of the country only on orders (Is. 4,27–29). – Philon, for example, was accused on the occasion of his dokimasia of not having behaved like a good citizen, since he had settled in Oropos as a metic and had contributed nothing to the struggle against the rule of the “Thirty” (Lys. or. 31,14–15). Cf. also the speech of Lycurgus Against Leocrates. Leocrates had left Athens in flight after the Battle of Chaeronea for Rhodes and lived for years in Megara. Both speeches are therefore due to specific constellations (rule of the “Thirty”. defeat at Chaeronea ), but it can be assumed that wealthy Athenians, who wanted to escape their financial and other obligations by emigration, likewise had no easy stand when returning to Athens and were legally vulnerable. – On both speeches in general, see Whitehead (2006). On the Lycurgian speech specifically Liddel (2007) 102–108. Engels (2008). 168  See on economically motivated staseis Eich (2006) 508–603. 169  Aristot. pol. 1302 b 21–24 with 1304 b 25–31. See on the passage Kraut (1997) 103. On this stasis Bruce (1961). Funke (1980b) and (1984). Gehrke (1985) esp. 137–139 (with note 23 for further references) and 257 (list of Rhodian staseis in Classical times). 170  Aristot. pol. 1304 b 25–31. 167

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

199

the shipbuilders, so the trierarchs feared being taken to court. As a result, the liturgists banded together and drove the democrats out of the city.171 The cause of the oligarchic revolt in Rhodes was thus that the trierarchs, who were entrusted with the construction of the fleet, united because, contrary to the agreements, they did not receive financial compensation from the polis for their services. In this case, therefore, new public expenditure was accompanied by an unlawful burden on private individuals. However, the fact that liturgists were able to overthrow democracy had a deeper cause in the low basic consensus among social groups about which form of government was the “right” one. The synoikismos of the Rhodian poleis of Ialysos, Kamiros, and Lindos exacerbated the social fault lines.172 Democracy had been established in Rhodes for only four years when ­oligarchic forces reasserted themselves in 391. The establishment of a radical-­democratic order caused the smoldering conflicts within the citizenry to flare up again173; Rhodes and the island cities experienced a total of twelve staseis in Classical times.174 The lack of social integration is reflected in the inability to create a balance between public and individual interests. The political opinion leaders did not manage to cover the costs of fleet and soldier payments in such a way that neither the wealthy were threatened existentially because they could not lay out the expenditures permanently and therefore ran the risk of being legally prosecuted, nor the craftsmen, who in turn were dependent on the payments of the wealthy. The Rhodian system of trierarchy, accordingly, possessed two serious weaknesses: Rhodes delegated the construction and furnishing of the triremes to the wealthy citizens, who in turn contracted with craftsmen. The trierarchs thus represented an intermediate organisational authority. In addition, they had to take on the most cost-intensive task: the construction of the ship. They could not avoid their services or make them less costly. From their perspective, the threat of legal prosecution forced them to forgo their expenses. This must have been perceived as a massive encroachment on property rights, which was placed in a direct causal relationship with democracy. The subversives were united in their rejection of the redistribution of property. In this way, they placed the group interest above the interest of the political collective in enabling the participation of broad strata in democratic institutions by means of an allowance for expenses and in implementing measures to secure rule through the construction and maintenance of the fleet. The fact that the trierarchs were then able to overthrow democracy thus presupposes that they were able to form a sufficiently large group with a collective anti-democratic interest.  Aristot. pol. 1302 b 23. Cf. also Aristot. pol. 1320 a 18–21, who elevates the Rhodes events (without explicitly mentioning them) to a universal principle: “And inasmuch as the ultimate forms of democracy tend to have large populations and it is difficult for their citizens to sit in the assembly without pay, and this in a state where there do not happen to be revenues is inimical to the notables [20] (for pay has to be obtained from a property-tax and confiscation, and from corruption of the law-courts, which has caused the overthrow of many democracies before now.” 172  Funke (1980b) 64 assumes this for the democratic constitutional change four years earlier. See Gehrke (1985) 207 for the connection between the oligarchization of Rhodes and synoikismos. 173  Funke (1980b) 65. 174  See the overview in Gehrke (1985) 257. 171

200

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

This interest has characteristics of class consciousness: Accordingly, we can identify the Rhodian trierarchs as a class that was approximately homogeneous in terms of their economic situation and interests. Thus, according to Aristotle, the fear of court trials provided an integrative moment that welded the trierarchs together.175 At the same time, however, it also set them apart from those who did not belong, thus forming a specific class consciousness. For Aristotle also notes that the Rhodian elites (οἱ γνώριμοι) despised the broad masses (ὁ δῆμος).176 Before Athens and Sparta interfered in Rhodian affairs, therefore, five main factors177 favoured the internal shift of forces: strong oligarchic currents, the relatively recent political union without a resilient common identity, the specific form of trierarchic organisation, unvouched property rights and, finally, a class consciousness that was more pronounced than the common interest of the political community. The situation in Athens, on the other hand, was quite different: an oligarchic constitutional change was not a real option after the conduct of the “Thirty”. In addition, the Athenians traditionally saw themselves as democrats.178 Moreover, the past, which acquired special significance in the fourth century, had an identity-­ forming and integrating effect – among many other factors.179 In addition, the specifically Athenian system of financing contributed to social stability: The Athenian polis directly paid for the highly cost-intensive shipbuilding. Conflicts between the polis community and the liturgists were therefore largely avoided. If liturgists had to bear unlawful burdens, these resulted in legal disputes between the liturgists – but not between the political authorities and the citizen. At the same time, the system of liturgies was reformed several times, not only to make the provision of money as well as services more efficient, but also to distribute the burdens more evenly and to minimize the willingness to stasis. The liturgists, such as Demosthenes, were directly involved in the development of the system; benefits were not simply imposed on them. The rhetors had an interest in using financial resources effectively and in keeping property  in the hands of the liturgists.180 Isocrates, Plato, and Aristotle, in particular, linked political unrest caused by social crises to demands for debt repayment (ἀποκοπὴ τῶν χρεῶν) and

 Cf. Aristot. pol. 1302 b 23 on the integrative function of fear. Cf. also Aristot. pol. 1304 b 27.  Aristot. pol. 1302 b 23. A similar terminology is used by Xenophon (hell. 4,8,20), who draws the line between demos and the plousioteroi. 177  Funke (1980b) 65–66. Gehrke (1985) 138–139. 178  Cf. on tradition as a stabilizing factor of radical democracies Aristot. pol. 1319 b 2–4: “The last [extreme] kind of democracy, because all the population share in the government, it is not within the power of every state to endure, and it is not easy for it to persist if it is not well constituted in its laws and customs […].” 179  Jung (2006). Rhodes (2011). See on Demosthenes and the patrios politeia as the ideal society of the forefathers Witte (1995) esp. 41–69. 180  This was frequently advanced as an argument in court speeches. Cf. for example Demosth. or. 14,28: “[…] for it [property] could not be in better keeping, for the benefit of the State.” 175 176

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

201

redistribution of land (ἀναδασμὸς τῆς γῆς),181 but in practice such voices proved to be rhetorical or philosophical polemics. Unlike those in authority in Rhodes, the Athenians were precisely concerned to prevent such revolutionary demands at the outset and to reduce cases of endagerment of property.182 Crucially, therefore, the duty to use one’s wealth for the benefit of the common good was accompanied by unassailable property rights. Thus, as the first official act of all, the archon (eponymos) guaranteed individual property and, at the same time, organized intervention in personal property relations by granting the most important choregies.183 The protection of property was a fundamental element of the democratic self-image,184 which is why the heliastic oath explicitly obliged those taking the oath to refuse support to a constitutional change and not to allow debt repayment and redistribution of land ownership.185 As long as the wealthier Athenians made a financial contribution to social pacification, therefore, they had good reason to trust that the democratic constitution would preserve their vested interests. In general, liturgists had a reasonable expectation that they would benefit from democracy in other contexts.186 Even if they were in the minority in the assembly, they, like any Athenian, participated in the votes on when and for what purpose levies or liturgies were to be paid. This direct participation in decision-making was bound to increase their willingness to contribute financially to the functioning of the community, as was the

 For example, Isocr. or. 4,104–105; 8,79; 12,259. Plat. rep. 566 a–b and leg. 736c. Aristot. pol. 1305 a 2–35. Cf. also the proposals put forward around 357 by Aeneas Tacticus (14,1) for securing internal peace: “Now those in the polis who want contrary conditions to the existing ones must be dealt with severely, as described above. But it is exceedingly necessary to induce the mass of the citizens to concord for the time being, both by inducing them by various measures, and by exempting debtors from the payment of interest for a short period, or by remitting it altogether, and in very dangerous constellations even by cancelling a certain portion of the debt, and all this if it should be necessary, since such people are by far the most formidable enemies, never weary. And one must bring those who are in distress from distress to prosperity.” On Aeneas Tacticus, see Bengtson (1962). Celato (1967/68). G. A. Lehmann (1980). Urban (1986). G. A. Lehmann (1989). Winterling (1991). Whitehead (2003). Günther (2014a). Barley/Pretzler (2017). – For an interesting document of early Hellenistic Ephesus, which testifies to a loan repayment decided by the people and triggered by the emergency of war, see Walser (2008). 182  Gehrke (1985) 323–325. 183  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,2. Award of the choregies: [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3. – Cf. also And. 1,88. Xen. hell. 2,4,40. 184  So also Nippel (1980) 111. 185  Demosth. or. 24,149. The heliastic oath handed down by Demosthenes (or, 24.149–150) is certainly a paraphrase and not a literal wording. See Mirhady (2007). 186  See on trust in Athenian democracy Timmer (2016) and on the cultural consequences Ober (2016), especially 37–41 and 155–180, who makes clear how stabilizing institutions in the economic, social, and political spheres had a positive effect on prosperity. Confidence in the future (of family, property, status) makes investment plannable and therefore attractive. At the same time, competition under fair conditions promotes economic growth, which generates new wealth in functioning markets. 181

202

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

transparency of the process and the disclosure of the purposes for which the money was to be used.187 And the purposes were, after all, advantageous to liturgists. Even if liturgists could be outvoted in the ekklesia, they had little reason to moan about Athens. What other polis of the fourth century offered such legal security and comparable opportunities for co-determination and self-determination, cultural life, economic activity?188 Nevertheless, there were always voices – mostly philosophical – who argued for the abolition of the trierarchy or lamented the heavy financial burden of liturgies,189 castigating them as φόροι to the people190 and branding democracy as the rule of the poor.191 But these people were offered concessions by the repeated reforms. As a result, they were unable to mobilize and organize other like-minded people in such a way as to gain decisive influence. They evidently lacked what had been a decisive factor in Rhodes: a common class consciousness.

 Franzen’s (2019) comparison between modern taxes and liturgies points in the same direction. He emphasizes that the way in which Athenian liturgies were organized increased the willingness to perform. 188  Cf. for example the effusive praise of Athens by the periegete Heraclides Criticus (Frg. 1,1–5). 189  Xen. symp. 4,32. Cf. also [Xen.] Ath. pol. 1,13: The demos presses wealth out of those who have more than themselves, “so that they become wealthy and the wealthy poorer”.  – The decisive source of conflict, however, was not money, to which “oligarchs” in ancient discourse behaved contradictorily. Cf. Antiph. Frg. 202. In the fragment, towards the middle of the fourth century (approx. 345–340), a rich man anxiously worried about his possessions is caricatured, who, however, “when he becomes choregos, furnishes his chorus with golden robes and wears rags himself.” The problem lies in the fact that those of low social standing, supported by a political system, could impose financial burdens  – and this with the claim that he, the “rabble”, could award honor in return for these benefits. In this way, a field that had been reserved for aristocratic self-definition was subjected to the equalizing law of democracy, so that leiturgiai was no longer a symbol of kalokagathia and family origin was only useful for identification for administrative purposes. On the relationship of the “oligarchs” to the democratic liturgies see P. Wilson (2000) 184–187. – Here stereotypes were obviously reproduced (cf. for example Plat. rep. 555 a). In this view, all those are sweepingly grouped together who closed themselves off from active political life, which forced its way into almost every sphere and downright forced them to give up their private lives. There could be various reasons for this; the rejection of democracy as an inadequate constitution for a group of people who saw themselves as elite was certainly one motive for withdrawing and remaining silent. On this point, see L. B. Carter (1986) 99–130. 190  The inversion of conditions – the rich find life more oppressive than those in need – was therefore a recurring motif in literature critical of democracy. Cf. for example Isocr. or. 8,128. Moreover, in the fourth century, two authors essentially criticized the liturgies: Xenophon in his Oeconomicus and Theophrastus in his character studies (char. 26 The Oligarch). Both writings have their own source problems. Xenophon, for example, casts his reflections in the form of a dialogue and thus elevates thinking about economics to the rank of philosophical – and here this means ethical – considerations. Theophrastus, on the other hand, is a representative of the early Hellenistic period. He was a pupil of Aristotle, head of the peripatetic school and, significantly, teacher of Demetrius of Phalerum, who later abolished the liturgies. The main attraction of his collection of Characters is for the reader to recognise the various behaviors caricatured  – they thus possess a realism and provide an insight into Athens towards the end of the fourth century. On this point, see Lane Fox (1996). Leppin (2002). 191  Plat. rep. 557 a–562 a. Aristot. pol. 1279 b 39–1280 a 5 and 1292 b 41–1293 a 10. 187

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

203

Nevertheless, in literature we often encounter the term “liturgical class”192 or “leiturgische Klasse”193 for those obliged to perform the liturgy. In the English-­ speaking world, “class” is used in a broad, non-technical sense against the background of a stratified and hierarchical society, to group together persons with the same social or economic status or educational background.194 This non-technical term has only little heuristic value; by definition, liturgists possess more than others – otherwise they would not be liturgists. The Marxist sense of the term “class” is more narrowly defined. Marx assumed a dichotomous class society in which rulers and ruled confront each other with their different interests arising from their social situation. However, in the normal case, the isolation of the actors prevents them from perceiving their common interest. These classes can, but do not have to form a specific class consciousness or a sense of unity. Therefore, Marxist theory distinguishes a “class in itself” and a “class for itself”. The former denotes a class that has not yet developed a consciousness of its interests. By “class for itself” is meant a class with a definite class consciousness. It can achieve social and political relevance through its actions by collectively pursuing its specific class interests. Class in the narrower sense (“class for itself”) thus refers to an aggregate of social positions in the vertical social structure characterized by social inequality. Within this class there is relative homogeneity both in terms of social, legal and economic conditions and in terms of interests. A specific class consciousness is characteristic.195 If one applies the aforementioned criteria for a narrow concept of class (social positional aggregate with a specific consciousness, social structure characterized by social inequality, relative homogeneity of the economic situation, formation of a sense of unity, social conflicts), the question arises as to whether there are actually indications of the formation of a “liturgical class” in fourth century Athens as a structural minority with a sense of belonging with its own value system that undermines the basic consensus. The question of the existence of a structural minority is particularly relevant because, according to Flaig, the existence of a structural minority threatens majority rule, which for him was one of the most exquisite characteristics of Athenian democracy.196

  As an example among many, Christ (2006) titled a chapter on “The Liturgical Class” (pp. 154–155), as does Kremmydas (2012) section 2.3.3 (pp. 17–18). 193  Eich (2006) 443 et seq. speaks of “die trierarchische Klasse”. 194  Grant (2001) 161. 195  Hillmann (1994). Cf. also Flaig (2013a) 241, who describes class consciousness as an essential characteristic of a social class. 196  Flaig (2013a) 154. 192

204

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

4.2.2 The Formation of a Liturgical Stratum Research has long emphasized that the poor-rich dichotomy constantly expressed by the rhetors was a topos that did not reflect Athenian reality.197 The society of the fourth century was more differentiated than the literary evidence suggests. Nevertheless, a largely economically homogeneous group was formed by those who had such great financial resources that they paid eisphora and performed liturgies. The very division into symmories (for the eisphora198 and for the trierarchy199) drew a line around those who had to provide financial services to the polis community. Nevertheless, legal status and gender differentiated those who belonged to symmories and performed other liturgies; thus koina, metics,  epikleroi, and orphans were liable to pay eisphora but not to perform a trierarchy.200 Metics, on the other hand, were not allowed to take on the trierarchy or serve as horsemen, but were required to pay eisphora and at times to take on choregies.201 But even the liturgists and eisphora-payers with Athenian citizenship were economically heterogeneous, as attested by the division into “the 300” and the proeispherontes.202 Moreover, the burdens were highly variable and dependent on the good will of the obligated.203 In addition, voluntary benefits, liturgy-free intervals, and imprecise assessment procedures blurred the line between liturgists and those who had no financial obligations.204 The objective situation of the liturgists and eisphora payers is therefore homogeneous only at first glance; the group of liturgists was more heterogeneous than at least a narrow notion of class would allow, due to the diversity of those claimed, the fluid transitions between the “rich” and the “poor,” and the varying composition. At the same time, the sources of wealth of the liturgists were also broadly diversified; since the end of the Peloponnesian War, the economic foundations of the elites had changed considerably.205 Whereas the wealth of the old aristocracy was still based primarily on land ownership, the new elites had various sources of income  – especially urban ones.206 The shift away from the traditional form of

 Ober (1989) 194–196. Winterling (1993).  For eisphora, see Sect. 4.1.1 above. 199  For the trierarchy, see Sect. 4.1.2 above. 200  Demosth. or. 14,16. 201  Demosth. or. 14,16. See on the choregy of the metics above Sect. 4.1.2 with note 58. 202  See Sect. 4.1.1 above. 203  See Sect. 4.1.2 above. 204  See Sect. 4.1.2 above. 205  This is clearly seen in Xenophon’s Oeconomicus, which defends the ideal of agriculture as the norm against the changing reality with its different economic options. 206  Connor (1971) made it clear that the key figures, primarily the strategoi such as Cleon, during the Peloponnesian War no longer belonged to the traditional elite that had still provided the generals in the first half of the fifth century. On Cleon see Burriot (1982). 197 198

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

205

agriculture had already begun in the fifth century.207 But the Peloponnesian War had noticeably accelerated the development. The elites still valued agriculture as a form of income appropriate to them,208 but it was no longer exclusively property passed on from father to son. Land was acquired in order to resell it at a profit209 or to produce agricultural products on a large scale.210 This was also accompanied by a social reevaluation. For example, Demosthenes senior did not bequeath any land at all to his son, but only a town house,211 while his workshop, with 32 or 33 slaves,212 was one of the largest known to us.213 In addition, he received income from another workshop which had been given to him as security for a loan of 40 minae.214 Furthermore, at the time of his death, he had lent a total of 7000 drachmas as a

 One thinks, for example, of Pericles, who neither worked on his estates himself, nor stayed there continuously (Plut. Pericles 16). 208  Xen. oec. 5,1. After all, in the fourth century about one third of the land was in the hands of about ten percent of the citizens. Estimates vary: Foxhall (1992) 157–158 speaks of nine percent of the citizens owning thirty-five percent of the land and also leasing a further ten percent. Similarly, R. Osborne (1992) 24, assumes 7.5 percent who disposed of about one-third. Van Wees (2011) 95–114, on the other hand, speaks of ‘the rich’ as constituting four to seven percent of the citizenry and owning twenty-seven to forty-three percent, while ‘the poor’ constituted a quarter of the citizenry and had only one to two percent. The estimates of G. Kron (2011) 135 are of little help in this context because of their range of variation (one to ten percent owned thirty-one to sixty percent). – By the end of the fifth century, on the other hand, about a quarter of Athenians had no lands: According to Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Lys. 32,2), some 5000 (out of approx. 20,000) Athenians would have been excluded from the citizen community by Phormisius’ proposal to restrict citizenship to those with landholdings. By contrast, see Cecchet (2015) 127, who assumes one-sixth, based on the assumption of a total of 30,000 citizens, and in contrast E. M. Harris (2002) 69, who calculates as many as 10,000 Athenians without landed property. For a discussion of the number of citizens, see above Sect. 2.2.2 note 226. 209  Xen. oec. 20.22–24. The attitude towards land ownership had thus changed: It could be bought, sold, mortgaged, or leased; it had become an investment object, as the Xenophontic Ischomachus candidly explained to Socrates. On this point, see Unholtz (2011). – Profit-oriented cultivation is also evident in the archaeological evidence: the infrastructure and cultivation of land was considerably more developed in the fourth century than it was in the fifth century. Lohmann (1995). – The extent to which land ownership outside one’s demos was considered a capital investment is evident in the institution of the enkterion (ἐγκτητικόν), a levy that a demos demanded from those who were not among the demesmen. One explanation for this rather sober attitude towards land ownership may be, among other things, that it was usually not a matter of contiguous lands, but of scattered property, which was bought and sold in relatively small parcels at relatively low prices and therefore also at short notice. 210  For example, Adeimantus, the strategos, friend of Alcibiades, and co-defendant in the trial for mutilation of the herms and profanation of the Eleusinian mysteries, produced 5000 liters of wine on his Thasian property in 414 (or shortly before) (IG I3 426 l. 44–51). 211  Demosth. or. 27,9–11. 212  Demosth. or. 27,9. 213  Millett (1983) 45  – A workshop with thirty workers was virtually a large enterprise. See Drexhage/Konen/Ruffing (2002) 250 for similar Roman conditions. 214  Demosth. or. 27,9. 207

206

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

Table 4.1  The monetary assets of Demosthenes senior and assets invested in loans 8000 drachmas 4600 drachmas 6000 drachmas 4000 drachmas 7000 drachmas

Cash Bank deposits Loan with interest at twelve percent Loan with a garage as collateral Maritime loan

A total of 29,600 drachmas, or just under five talents

maritime loan.215 Accordingly, Demosthenes’ father invested more than a third of his total wealth of about 14 talents in interest-bearing loans, while he invested somewhat more in a crisis-proof business for Athens and in raw materials (see Tables 4.1, 4.2, and 4.3). Apollodorus offers a similarly well-documented example.216 His father Pasion was first active as a slave for Antisthenes and Archestratus in banking activities217 and after his manumission managed the “bank” as an independent trapezites.218 Pasion was so successful in this and also as the owner of a shield workshop219 that he rose to become one of the richest men in Athens. His town house and several tenements in the Piraeus alone were worth about twenty talents,220 while at the time of his death in 370/69 his total fortune amounted to an estimated seventy talents.221 After Pasion’s death, Apollodorus received half of his father’s fortune, his share in the shield workshop as well as the “bank”, and in addition a tenement house (synoikia).222 With this he was so rich that he could or had to take over several

215  Demosth. or. 27,11. That the handing out of the maritime loans (ναυτικά,) was done by Xouthos (ἔκδοσιν παρὰ Ξούθῳ) suggests that he acted as Demosthenes’ intermediary, supervising the observance of the loan transactions and collecting the interest. So also Bogaert (1965) 141–146. – Demosthenes iunior is also said to have made maritime loans. Hypereides accused Demosthenes of embezzling public funds in order to grant maritime loans with them (Hyp. 5,4). The maritime loan was extremely lucrative because of the high interest rates – at least twelve percent ([Demosth.] or. 35,10–13) – but it was also very risky. In contrast, the return on landed property was normally eight percent (Is. 11,42. IG II2 2496). See on the maritime loan above Sect. 4.1.2 note 152. 216  On Apollodorus and his father Pasion, see the fundamental monograph by Trevett (1992) and Schäfer (1885–1887) III 137–145; 164–166; 170–173. Kirchner (1901–1903) no. 1411. Glover (1917) 302–336. Davies (1971) xv (genealogical table) and 427–442. Erxleben (1973). Isager/ Hansen (1975) 177–191. 217  Demosth. or. 36,43. 218  It is likely that he initially conducted the business in exchange for a levy on his former owners and only later, after he had accumulated sufficient capital, purchased the “bank.” See for discussion Trevett (1992) 2 with 18–19 notes 2 and 3. 219  Demosth. or. 36,4. 220  Demosth. or. 36,5. Trevett (1992) 6 with 27–31 note 14. 221  These included the “bank” and the shield workshop, land holdings worth twenty talents, and outstanding loans of nearly forty talents (Demosth. or. 36,5). See also Trevett (1992) 4 and 9 with 27 note 14. 222  Demosth. or. 36,34–35. [Demosth.] or. 45,28. Trevett (1992) 26–27 note 13.

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

207

Table 4.2  The “productive” assets of Demosthenes senior Approx. 18,000 drachmas 15,000 drachmas

Weapons workshop with 32 resp. 33 slaves of five resp. six minae each Raw materials (iron, ivory, gall apples, copper)

A total of 33,000 drachmas, that is, five talents and 3000 drachmas Table 4.3  The “unproductive” assets of Demosthenes senior 6000 drachmas 3000 drachmas 10,000 drachmas

Interest-free eranos loans Town house Furniture, clothing and jewellery of the mother

A total of 19,000 drachmas, that is, three talents and 1000 drachmas

liturgies.223 He himself lived in the countryside and cultivated walnuts, wine, olives and roses.224 Even if it was frowned upon by some: liturgists accordingly maintained workshops, acquired mining concessions,225 rented slaves and dwellings, made maritime loans or other credits, and possessed agrarian income226 – or all of the above together.227 The obligation to perform liturgies virtually forced the wealthy to

 Four (syn-)trierarchies alone, one choregy and one proeisphora are attested; of course Apollodorus could have taken over others. Trierarchies or Syntrierarchies: 368/7 ([Demosth.] or. 53.5). Between 374 and 366/5 (IG II2 1609 l. 83–89). 362–360 ([Demosth.] or. 50.9). 356 (IG II2 1612 l. 110). Choregy for a dithyrambic boys’ chorus at the Dionysia: 352/1 (IG II2 3039). See Trevett (1992) 10; 11; 33 note 17; 36–38 note 20; 39 note 23. proeisphora: 362 ([Demosth.] or. 50,8–10). 224  [Demosth.] or. 53,4 with 15–16. 225  According to Hypereides (3,35), a certain Epicrates was able to collect 300 talents from his mines within three years. 226  Cf. for example, though only for the 320s, Phainippus ([Demosth.] or. 42), the son of Callippus. Phainippus used his landholdings for cultivation of barley and vine, bred horses, sold firewood, and possibly kept sheep. Phainippus is said to have tried to make as much profit as possible from the high barley prices at the time of the antidosis trial against him. It can therefore be surmised that Phainippus brought most of his agricultural produce to the market and therefore farmed his estate for profit, much like Columella. On Phainippus and his estate, see Davies (1971) no. 14734. de Ste. Croix (1966). R. Osborne (1991). Bresson (2016) 146–148. 227  A representative of the trierarchs in the period of upheaval is Euctemon, whose fortune, amounting to more than six talents, is known from the sixth speech of Isaeus (Is. 6 On the Inheritance of Philoctemon). He owned lands and herds of goats, a bathhouse in Munichia, two tenements and inns, a townhouse, and craft slaves which he leased out. Cf. also, for example, from the second half of the fourth century, the strategos Diotimus, who came from a distinguished and wealthy family and had assumed the trierarchy several times. He owned land as well as processing plants in the Lauriotike and leased mines. He donated shields and received a crown for them; he received another honor at the proposal of Lycurgus. Diotimus was strategos and fleet commander several times (338/7, 335/4, and between 332 and 325). See on him Davies (1971) 163–164. – See also Shipton (2000) especially 93–95, who rejects the opposition between landowning and money-­ based activities. 223

208

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

operate228 for profit and to diversify their assets to meet the liquidity problems caused by liturgies.229 The economic and legal conditions in Athens during the fourth century were so good that men of independent means  of the calibre of Demosthenes had no particular difficulty in raising large sums of money.230 Thus, in the mid-fourth century, we are not dealing with liturgists who, by virtue of their origins, claimed to be anti-democratic – even if wealthier members of the polis community tended toward an oligarchic constitution.231 As the economic base of the elite changed, so did their way of life and the social and cultural values associated with it.232 By the middle of the fourth century, however, most of the liturgists had grown up in a stable democracy; oligarchy was known only from the memory of the “Thirty.” The group of liturgists was thus very heterogeneous in terms of financial and social status as well as in terms of family background, political views, and bases of wealth. This diversity of objective situation and subjective interests hindered the development of a class consciousness. Liturgists formed neither a class in itself nor a structural minority with specific values and norms. The formation of group solidarity was also opposed by the “planned conflicts” inherent in the form of financing public tasks. The civic initiative that sustained the liturgy system in the first place, and which in turn provided for legal disputes, contributed significantly to this.233 This included the legal disputes that arose, for

 So it is explicitly attested for Phainippus (see above note 226). If one assumes the costs of a trierarchy in the amount of 6000 drachmas during a period of three years, a surplus of 2000 drachmas must be generated annually. – Already for the Archaic, profit-oriented economic activity can be seen at all social levels of society. However, the elite always emphasized that they could at least occasionally do without profit for the sake of honor. This attitude served as a mark of distinction, but at the same time shows that the pursuit of wealth was also inherent to the upper stratum, according to Van Wees (2009). This way, liturgies stimulated the increase of productivity, the commercialization of rural and urban surpluses, and generated economic growth. R. Osborne (1991). It was precisely these people that Eich (2006) 5 attributed to a profit-driven competitive economy. By contrast, see Nippel (1990) 369–370, who assumed that the liturgy system prevented capital accumulation, which is why there was little investment in commerce. In this way, the development of the Athenian economy was inhibited. So also Isager/Skydsgaard (1992) 202. 229  Cf. the famous enumeration of the various liturgies, which the speaker of the 21st Lysian speech (Lys. or. 21,1–6) brings forward: In seven years he spent more than ten talents on seventeen  – partly voluntary – liturgies. 230  Ober (2016) emphasizes the institutional conditions for Athens’ exceptional flourishing in the fourth century. Essential, of course, was the availability of unfree labor and its systematic exploitation, without which land could neither be tilled cheaply nor silver mined under these conditions, nor could workshops produce profitably. 231  Eich (2006) 602. 232  French (1991) 27. 233  Cf. for example the speeches in Corpus Demosthenicum or. 47 (Against Euergus and Mnesiboulus) and or. 50 (Against Polycles). 228

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

209

example, from syntrierarchies234 or overdue ship’s equipment,235 even if such court cases were often not even initiated.236 In particular, the antidosis, which was based on mutual control within the liturgical group and self-regulation by the economic elite, represents a “planned conflict”. In general, the procedure – or the mere threat of one – led to serious distortions between the liturgists.237 Thus, while in Rhodes the conflicts were carried out between the polis and the trierarchs, since the polis  – unlike in Athens  – did not finance the shipbuilding itself but issued it as a liturgy, in Athens the legal disputes between the liturgists prevented them from showing solidarity and opposing the existing political conditions238 – the system thus produced the isolation of the members of the elite. The juridification in processes between liturgists further supported individualization, as no anti-liturgian discourse could unfold before the people as jurors. In Athens, the liturgies not only conatined a considerable potential for conflict among the liturgists from an organisational point of view (through their own initiative in legal disputes, through mutual control and through the antidosis), but this latent tension between the liturgists was also further fuelled by the competition for social recognition.239 Frequently, Apollodorus, for example, measured his behavior against that

 As Apollodorus puts forward as a final argument at the end of his speech Against Polycles ([Demosth.] or. 50,68), Polycles had earlier refused to take over a trireme. In this case the aggrieved party was Polycles’ syntrierarch. Both had agreed to exercise the trierarchy in equal shares of six months each in succession. Accordingly, the syntrierarchy in particular held potential for conflict. 235  Cf. [Demosth.] or. 47 (Against Euergus and Mnesiboulus). 236  Apollodorus gives in the speech Against Polycles – apart from the cost of the additional trierarchy service – another example of services he rendered in place of others ([Demosth.] or. 50,8–9): He paid for a part of the proeisphora (although he already performed the trierarchy), but could not reclaim the advance due to him, since he was on expedition as trierarch – the sums that were easy to collect had already been divided among the other hegemones, so that only the sums that were very difficult to collect remained open. 237  See Sect. 4.1.2 above on antidoses. 238  Thus Aristotle (1302 b 23) explains the revolutionary union of the Rhodian elites (γνώριμοι) by the integrative function of fear of the trials. Cf. also Aristot. pol. 1304 b 27. 239  Cf. also Demosth. or. 20,108: “The freedom of a democracy is guarded by the rivalry with which good citizens compete for the rewards offered by the people.” 234

210

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

of the other trierarchs.240 Polycles reacted to his opponent’s agonal philotimia by ostensibly trying to get Apollodorus to conform to the rules.241 This competition to always be first and best in the performance of liturgies was institutionalized by awarding crowns or allowing victorious choregoi to erect monuments in prominent places in the cityscape. Again, fierce disputes are attested in this connection, which ended in court. The very heated tone that Demosthenes adopts in the speech On the Trierarchic Crown testifies to how emotionally charged the relationship between liturgists sometimes was.242 The agonal character of the liturgies and the  Compared with all the others, he had furnished the trireme with the most elaborate ornaments and had recruited the best crew, and was the only one to have purchased his own ship’s rigging. [Demosth.] or. 50,17: ornaments; [Demosth.] or. 50,7: ship’s rigging; [Demosth.] or. 50,15: crew. What great potential for conflict this behavior courting recognition held is most clearly seen in the speech of Polycles rendered by Apollodorus ([Demosth.] or. 50, 34–35). Therefore, the case of “Apollodoros against Polycles ”, which at first sight seems to be so clearly situated, may not after all be as simple as Apollodorus suggests. Somewhat obscured, towards the end of the speech, we learn that Polycles may have argued in his speech in court that Apollodorus did not want to hand over the ship to him out of love of honor (φιλοτιμούμενος), in order to sail home on a best-­ equipped trireme and to show the expenses, thus distinguishing himself before the citizenry ([Demosth.] or. 50,54). Accordingly, Apollodorus may have used the trierarchy as an opportunity to put a political (?) opponent on trial. This would be – admittedly – an extremely unusual means. Support for this thesis is found in the observation that, apart from public speeches, only trial speeches directed against members of the elite  – i.e. potential liturgists  – were included in the Demosthenic corpus. Such revised writings were intended to discredit opponents and therefore took on political functions, according to Brown (1974) 349–350. 241  [Demosth.] or. 50,34–35: “(34) When I thus challenged him, he asked me why I was the only one of the trierarchs who had equipment of my own, and whether the state did not know that there were some people able to provide equipment for their ships, so that the state itself did not need to do it. “Or have you,” he said, “so far surpassed the others in wealth as to be the only one of the trierarchs to have equipment of your own and gilded ornaments? (35) Who,” he continued, “could endure your madness and extravagance, a crew corrupted and accustomed to receive large sums in advance and to enjoy exemption from services normally required on board a ship, and able also to make use of the baths, and marines and rowers rendered luxurious by high wages paid in full? Bad ways,” he said, “are these you have taught the army. It is partly your fault that the troops of the other trierarchs have become more unruly, seeking to have the same treatment that yours enjoy; you ought to have done the same as the other trierarchs.”” However, this is the rhetorical strategy of an actor who did not have enough resources to prevail against a competitor.  – Moreover, Apollodorus expresses the latent distrust that existed between the liturgists urges by anticipating an accusation that Polycles might direct against him ([Demosth.] or. 50,54 ): “Again taking some of our citizens as witnesses I approached the defendant in Tenedos, and asked him take over the ship as my successor, and to reimburse me for the expenses I had incurred while I serving as trierarch in his stead beyond my term. I did this in order that he might not make use of the pretext, in his defence before you, that I refused to hand over the ship to him because I was ambitious to sail home in a fast-sailing ship and show off to you my lavish expenditure.” 242  Demosth. or. 51. This speech was obviously delivered by Demosthenes himself in the context of his accountability 359 or 358 before the council. For biographical reasons and because of the reference to the strategos Cephisodotus (Demosth. or. 51,1), Blass (1887–1898) III.1 242–243 already assumed that the speech was delivered by Demosthenes himself. Since Cephisodotus was a strategos in 360/59 and Demosthenes was active with him as trierarch at the Hellespont (Demosth. or. 23,165–167. Aeschin. or. 3,51–52), the speech can be dated to the years 359 or 358. Thus, this speech is the earliest of the speaker at all. 240

4.2 The Formation of an Economically and Socially Defined Class

211

competitive ethic of the liturgists therefore fostered particularism and weakened group cohesion – a process that had also characterized the Archaic aristocracy.243 Moreover, increasing individualization and social pluralization, economic development including an expansion of private wealth, and social mobility prevented Athenian society in the fourth century from developing into a class society in the strict sense; we are still dealing with social strata with fluid transitions. But these strata were about to solidify. For although in Athens of the fourth century no specific class consciousness and no group solidarity can be detected, by means of which the liturgists distinguished themselves from others, the system of liturgies nevertheless led to the formation of a hierarchy with a socio-economic elite – and this not only in the sense that wealth became increasingly important for the division of society,244 but that a relationship of obligation also grew out of the socio-economic imbalance: those who had greater economic resources showed themselves responsible for those who did not belong to this stratum.245 At the same time, the economically based social disparity was also recognized by the “other side” and did not only extend to the narrowly defined economic sphere (in the sense of an obligation to provide for others). The trierarch was also regarded as a person of authority who was to be treated with respect. An episode in the speech Against Polycles is revealing here246: Apollodorus received the order to travel to Methone (Macedonia) during his stationing in Thasos. On the way, a rower warned him that he was about to take the condemned Callistratus to the strategos. While it is implausible that Apollodorus did not know Callistratus and was only informed of the affair by a rower, the reliability of this detail is beside the point in this context; what deserves attention is how both sides proceeded: The Athenian oarsman asked the trierarch for a parley; only when the socially superior one agreed did the socially inferior one begin to speak.247 Thus the rower did not dare to take the legal initiative himself, but instead turned to Apollodorus to enlighten him about the facts of the case – expressly out of gratitude for the money Apollodorus had given him in an emergency situation. Whether Apollodorus actually felt indebted to the oarsman or whether he merely wove his sense of responsibility into the court speech as a captatio benevolentiae is irrelevant; much more important is that the formation of the socio-economic stratum

 Schmitz (2008) 47–50.  Nippel (1980) 113. 245  Thus, before the jurors, Apollodorus was scrupulous about constantly reiterating his concern for the rowers entrusted to his care: He gave extra money to the rowers so that they could manage their affairs at home, because he knew “the need they felt, and how it pressed upon each one” ([Demosth.] or. 50,12), or he interceded for them when they did not receive rations from the strategos ([Demosth.] or. 50,53 and 55). 246  [Demosth.] or. 50,46–50. 247  The lower social status of the rower in comparison to Apollodorus is not only shown in his rowing activity, but also in his social interaction with the slaves of Callippus, from whom he had the information that the journey served the transport of Callistratus ([Demosth.] or. 50,48 ). 243 244

212

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

was accompanied by a specific mentality that was not disintegrative but rather socially integrative. This coincides with the observation that groups of higher social status help lower status groups in order to cement their own privileged position in the social hierarchy.248 This can be done consciously or unconsciously, voluntarily or under coercion.

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems 4.3.1 Liturgies as a Civic Duty Not every member of the liturgical stratum did his service for the community because he wanted to use parts of his fortune selflessly, but because liturgies were required by law; one had to perform them, even if there was to a certain extent the possibility of evading the obligation.249 We know the regularities for obtaining exemption far better than we know the legal possibilities for forcing an obligated person to assume the duty. If obligated persons refused to undertake a liturgy, they were most likely imprisoned and fined.250 If defaulting liturgists were treated in the same way as other public debtors, they had to pay double the amount251 or were subject to atimia.252 But clear source evidence does not exist.253 One reason for the lack of direct testimony is certainly that the Athenians refrained from harsh coercive measures in order to preserve the good will of the trierarchs.254 Demosthenes, for example, in connection with the collection of public debts incurred on the occasion of trierarchies, complains about the degrading flight of a liturgist over the roof of his house. The stumbling block, however, was not the fugitive’s arrears, but the overzealousness of the debt collector, although he acted in the interest of the polis.255 In addition, social sanctions were resorted to: Liturgies carried out poorly – or not at all – were perceived as theft of common property, as Xenophon pointedly  Nadler (2002).  See Sect. 4.1.2 above. 250  Thus Gabrielsen (1994) 225. 251  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 48,1. 252  Demosth. or. 22,34 and 59,6. 253  The three testimonies given by Gabrielsen (1994) 244 note 21 ([Demosth.] or. 50,46–51. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3. Demosth. or. 18,107) do not provide clarity: (1) [Demosth.] or. 50,46–51: Apollodorus does fear to be imprisoned, but not because he did not execute his trierarchy, but because he refused to obey the strategos. (2) [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 56,3: Here only the proceedings are mentioned when someone objected to his obligation to the archon. But what measures were taken when someone simply refused without making legal claims for exemption, Pseudo-Aristotle does not address. (3) Demosth. or. 18,107. Since in this passage the strategos has trierarchs imprisoned, surely the case is meant here when a trierarch abandons his ship. This was punished as desertion with a graphe lipotaxiou. See also above Sect. 4.1.2 note 129. 254  Gabrielsen (1994) 212. 255  Demosth. or. 22,50 and 53. 248 249

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

213

remarks.256 Especially in the small symmories there was a high social pressure. Members knew each other and knew which of them was obliged to perform a liturgy in a given year. Even new members could be easily identified within the face-to-face society of the demes; it was no coincidence that the demarchs were responsible for compiling a list of liturgists.257 In contrast, there was still the legally dubious method of obtaining an exemption: One could conceal one’s assets or initiate antidosis proceedings.258 Liturgies thus never completely shed their voluntary character. But “voluntary character” does not mean “at will,” but the legal, illegal, or tolerated possibility of evading service. It was therefore necessary to demand liturgies as a moral obligation – not least to mitigate and disguise legal coercion. How effective this expectation was, and how generally accepted in the citizenry, can be seen in Apollodorus, who behaved in complete conformity with his role. During his trierarchy, for example, he assumed that he would be replaced after twelve months. When this did not happen, he (allegedly) felt it was his duty and an expectation placed upon him to continue exercising the trierarchy.259 Accordingly, it is precisely the lack of evidence of punishment260 that testifies to why the liturgy system worked: financial commitment to the community was ideologically anchored in the general consciousness as a civic duty; the wealthy Athenians performed their services because their services to the community were morally underpinned. This connection between civic duty and liturgies is made particularly strikingly clear to the audience in the speeches before the assembly. The speakers present the performance of duty in such a way that those who had money should take trierarchies and those who were fit for military service should perform. To convince the audience of this notion of duty fulfillment, the speakers referred to the glorious past when the Athenians had achieved great things because they fulfilled their duties.261 The view of the ancestors served the speakers as a matrix of action for the present and conveyed a system of values by which Athenian citizens were to orient themselves. In doing so, the orators located the liturgies in the

 Xen. oec. 2,6.  See Sect. 4.1.2 above. 258  See Sect. 4.1.2 above. 259  [Demosth.] or. 50,67 : “I should gladly ask you, men of the jury, what opinion you would have had of me, if, when my term of service had expired and the defendant had not come to take over the ship, I had refused to serve longer when the general so ordered, but had sailed away. Would you not have been indignant and have thought that I was wronging you?” 260  See Sect. 4.1.2 above. 261  Cf. for instance Demosth. or. 4,3 and 50. 256 257

214

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

generally accepted world of values and linked the financial benefits to a moral code of conduct that placed the common good above particular interests.262 In historiography,263 in drama, in speeches in court,264 before the assembly or in funeral orations, but also in literary production,265 the common good and the model of the past were repeatedly inculcated into the general consciousness as social values. No wonder, then, that the common good and the orientation towards the glorious past, as shared mental models, provided the range of choices, limited alternative courses of action, and thus formed the foundations on which decisions were made.266 Wealthy citizens, then, performed their liturgies because they were inscribed in public discourse as a civic duty. Fulfilling one’s financial obligations to the community was on a par with military service and treating one’s parents with reverence. It was virtually a hallmark of integrity and civic status.267 The fulfilment of the liturgies as a moral duty allowed the actor to experience himself as a man with integrity. The own actions were experienced as meaningful; they also served to demonstrate

 For example, Demosthenes (or. 14,14–15) introduces his proposals for the reform of the symmories with the words: “(14) […] Now the first and most important step in our equipment, men of Athens, is that you should be filled with such resolution that everyone shall be willing and eager to do his part. (15) For you will notice, men of Athens, that whenever you have collectively formed some project, and thereafter each individual has realized that it was his personal duty to carry it out, nothing has ever escaped your grasp; but whenever you have formed your project and thereafter have looked to one another to carry it out, each expecting to do nothing while his neighbor worked, then nothing has succeeded with you.” 263  Cf. Thuc. 2,51 (care of the sick during the plague: the social norm, i.e. the desire to act in the interest of society, overrides the fear of death). Cf. Herman (1998) 218–219. 264  Cf. the Euripides quotation with which Lycurgus (1,100) denounces Leocrates’ (alleged) lack of patriotism: “[…] it is that we may guard, / Our country and the altars of the gods, / That we get children for ourselves at all. / This city, though it bears a single name, / Holds many people in it. Should I then, / Destroy all these, when it is in my power, / To give one girl to die on their behalf? / The mere ability to count, and tell, / The greater from the less, convinces me, / That this, the ruin of one person’s home, / Is of less consequence and brings less grief, / Than would result if the whole city fell. / If I had sons at home instead of girls, / When hostile flames beset the city’s walls, / Should I not send them forth into the fight, / Though fearing for them? May my children then, / Fight also, vie with men, and not become, / Mere shapes of vanity within the state. / And yet, when mothers send their sons to war, / With tears, they often daunt them as they leave. / I hate the women who above all else, / Prefer their sons to live and put this thought, / Before their honor, urging cowardice. / But if they fall in battle they obtain, / A common grave and glory which they share, / With many others;” 265  Cf. for example Isocr. or. 4,151, where the political “publicist” disparagingly characterizes the Persians by saying that even those “who stand highest in repute among them have never governed their lives by dictates of equality or of common interest.” Thus Isocrates implies that these ideals (equality, collectivism, public spirit) existed in Athens, at least in discourse. 266  See also the introduction to Chap. 2 above. 267  Thus, in the dokimasia, the future archon had to answer in the council and before the jurors not only the question who his parents were, whether he treated them properly, whether he had done military service, but also whether he paid his dues (εἰ τὰ τέλη τελεῖ) ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 55,3). For the passage, see also Rhodes (1985a) 618. 262

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

215

who one was. Andreoni described this positive emotional state as a warm glow,268 in which even the brain’s reward centre is activated.269 Those who could afford it and wanted to, even provided more than they legally had to.270 Apollodorus also voluntarily paid a proeisphora, allegedly even as the first,271 whereby he attached importance to the fact that his fortune was visible and reported in three demes.272 The ‘selflessness’ of this act – by virtue of the trierarchy he was exempt from all other liturgies – was enhanced by the fact that he could not claim the money due to him, since he was travelling as trierarch.273 The willingness (προθυμία) to contribute more than what was absolutely necessary to the c­ ommunity is also evident in his recruitment of paid oarsmen, for Apollodorus did not man his ship with citizens, since the few who appeared were – according to him – unqualified. Instead, he hired – at least this is how he presents it – the best rowers and the best hyperesia he could take under pay. In this he proves particularly generous, giving gifts and advances to the rowers. His generosity is also expressed in the fact that he did not equip the trireme with ship’s gear from the public arsenals, but with his

 Andreoni (1989) and (1990).  Harbaugh/Mayr/Burghart (2007). 270  Cf. for example Lys. or. 21,1–6: “(1) In regard to the counts of the accusation, gentlemen of the jury, you have been sufficiently informed; but I must ask your attention also for what has yet to be added, so that you may understand what kind of person I am before you give your verdict upon me. I was certified of age in the archonship of Theopompus: appointed to produce tragic drama, I spent thirty minae and two months later, at the Thargelia, two thousand drachmas, when I won a victory with a male chorus; and in the archonship of Glaucippus, at the Great Panathenaea, eight hundred drachmas on pyrrhic dancers. (2) Besides, I won a victory with a male chorus at the Dionysia under the same archon, and spent on it, including the dedication of the tripod, five thousand drachmas; then, in the time of Diocles, three hundred on a cyclic chorus at the Little Panathenaea. In the meantime, for seven years I equipped warships, at a cost of six talents. (3) Although I have borne all these expenses, and have faced daily peril in your service abroad, I have nevertheless made contributions—one of thirty minae and another of four thousand drachmas—to special levies. As soon as I returned to these shores, in the archonship of Alexias, I was producing games for the Promethea, and won a victory after spending twelve minae. (4) Then, later, I was appointed to produce a chorus of children, and spent more than fifteen minae. In the archonship of Eucleides I produced comic drama for Cephisodorus and won a victory, spending on it, with the dedication of the equipment, sixteen minae; and at the Little Panathenaea I produced a chorus of beardless pyrrhic dancers, and spent seven minae. (5) I have won a victory with a warship in the race at Sunium, spending fifteen minae; and besides I had the conduct of sacred missions and ceremonial processions and other duties of the sort, for which my expenses have come to more than thirty minae. Of these sums that I have enumerated, had I chosen to limit my public services to the letter of the law, I should have spent not one quarter. (6) During the time when I had charge of a warship, my vessel was the best found in the whole armament […].” In some years the speaker had not only taken on various choregies, but also a trierarchy in addition; he had thus performed liturgies, although he would have been exempt. However, the speaker exaggerates when he states that, according to the law, he should have expended only one-fourth; in fact, two-thirds of what he had performed was required. – See on this speech the commentary by Kapellos (2014). 271  [Demosth.] or. 50,9. 272  [Demosth.] or. 50,8. 273  [Demosth.] or. 50,9. 268 269

216

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

own,274 and invested in the “most beautiful and outstanding ornaments”275 compared to the other trierarchs. In general, he could boast that his ship was the best of the entire fleet.276 Although Apollodoros worked together with a syntrierarch,277 he apparently paid for everything beyond what was required by law on his own. Apollodorus was certainly a special case. As the son of a slave who had been freed and had only late received Athenian citizenship, he was – at least in the eyes of the old elite – a nouveau riche whose fortune, unlike that of the old elites, was based less on land ownership than on banking, trade, and crafts. As the son of an Athenian new citizen with political ambitions, he must therefore have been keen to use his financial resources in the way that the polis community expected of someone with his wealth. Anxious not to be seen as a parvenu who had not mastered the rules of society, Apollodorus had to be particularly exemplary and generous in those areas that brought him prestige. The trierarchy therefore also served him to compensate for his family origins by means of ostentatious “over-dutifulness”278 and to bring his social position into line with his economic one.279 Nevertheless, his behavior was by no means singular. Already in the 21st speech of Lysias (c. 403/2) we see the effort to invest more money than required in order to equip a ship as well as possible.280 Just like Apollodorus, the speaker of the Lysian speech had hired a well-known captain and skilled oarsmen, who were of course more expensive than inexperienced ship crews.281 Apart from the claim to have been  [Demosth.] or. 50,7.  [Demosth.] or. 50,7 and 34. 276  [Demosth.] or. 50,12. 277  [Demosth.] or. 50,40. 278  So also Eich (2006) 443. – His over-dutifulness is directly related to his political ambitions. Other persons with a similar status apparently did not always show the same willingness, for example Phrasierides, who rented out his trierarchy ([Demosth.] or. 50,42). 279  [Demosth.] or. 45,78: “Whatever concerns the state, however, and all that concerns you, I perform, as you know, as lavishly as I can; for I am well aware that for you who are citizens by birth it is sufficient to perform public services as the laws require; we on the contrary who are created citizens ought to show that we perform them as a grateful payment of a debt. But the things for the polis, and all things concerning you, I do, as you know, most lavishly, as far as I am able: for I know very well that it is sufficient for you, who are citizens by birth, to undertake liturgies as the laws prescribe. Whereas it befits us, who have been made citizens, to perform liturgies in such a way as to show that we give thanks.” Apparently Apollodorus was not considered a full member of high society in elite circles, since his father had the stigma of slavery and his mother had been married to Phormion, another freedman, after the death of her husband. This is indicated, for instance, by the reply of his adversary when confidants of Apollodorus asked Polycles to set out for Thasos, to reimburse Apollodorus for the additional expenses and to buy the ship’s tackle from him: “The mouse has just tasted pitch; for he wanted to be an Athenian” ([Demosth.] or. 50,26). Another scene ([Demosth.] or. 50,32–33) also indicates that the son of Pasion was not fully accepted socially: when he had got from Stryme back to Thasos, he went to the strategos. There Apollodorus found the commander in a round with Polycles, other trierarchs and citizens – so he himself obviously does not belong to the inner circle of the socio-political elite. 280  Lys. or. 21,1–6. The passage is quoted in full above in note 270. 281  Lys. or. 21,10: “I secured as my pilot for the whole time Phantias, who was esteemed the best in Greece; and also provided such a crew and complement of oarsmen as were suitable for him.” 274 275

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

217

responsible for the best trireme, to have provided for the most beautiful ship’s decoration, to have used one’s own ship’s equipment and to have hired the most famous nautical experts as well as the most trained rowing crews, voluntary trierarchies can be found again and again.282 It is no coincidence that several examples of trierarchs over the age of sixty – even up to eighty – are attested.283 All this testifies to the fact that the trireme could function as an object of prestige and, accordingly, the liturgy as a means of acquiring reputation. Liturgies thus belonged to the category of conspicuous consumption,284 serving as a mark of distinction and as one of the few accepted ways in democracy to prove philotimia.285 Or as Lysias summed it up, “If he had money, he spent it so that he would be respected.”286 Prestige was thus valued more highly than any material losses.287 Liturgists thus used their financial resources for the polis not only because the liturgies were inscribed as a civic duty and the liturgist experienced himself as a man with integrity, but also because the liturgy system was based on reciprocity and marked social status, thus creating an institutional environment that provided incentives for cooperation.288

4.3.2 Prestige and the Gratitude of the Polis The liturgy system was based on two elementary strategies to ensure the fulfilment of liturgies and the payment of eisphorai: on the one hand, sanctioning undesirable behavior, on the other hand, rewarding desirable behavior.289 This negative and positive reciprocity, respectively, sprang from a generally accepted obligatory  Lys. or. 19,29; 21,1–5. Demosth. or. 21,13.  Altogether seventeen such persons are known. See the evidence with ages in Gabrielsen (1994) 247 note 29. Many of these trierarchs certainly did not serve themselves, but rented out the trierarchy, as is likely for Isocrates (Isocr. or. 15,5 with 9). See on the renting out of the trierarchy above Sect. 4.1.2. 284  Herman (1998) 219. 285  Demosth. or. 20,103. Cf. to philotimia, which was equated with expenditures for the polis: IG II2 1629 l. 200–204. Aeschin. 3,19. Demosth. or. 8,70; 18,257; 28,22; 51,22. [Demosth.] or. 42,25; 50,15. Is. 7,35–36. Isocr. or. 18,60–61. Lys. or. 19,56; 26,3. Davies (1981) 26. Whitehead (1983) and (1993). P. Wilson (2000) 144–197. Engen (2010) 132–135. 286  Lys. or. 19,18. 287  Demosth. or. 20,10. Therefore Theophrastus (char. 23,6) lets his “boastful man” show off among others his expenditures for liturgy. 288  Likewise, Xenophon sees social renown as an essential motivating incentive in his Poroi. Hence he wishes to abolish all that is dishonorable to metics, and to confer on them instead honorable privileges (such as service in the cavalry and the right of possessing landed property and houses (enktesis) ) (Xen. vect. 2,2–6), or, as an inducement to long-distance trade, to give the seafarers and traders (ναύκληροι καὶ ἔμποροι) seats of honor in the theater (Xen. vect. 3,4). Inscriptional publication is also a part of this (Xen. vect. 3,11). 289  Demosthenes (or. 20,5) summed it up, as he often does: “Because the result of rewarding too many citizens is to encourage many to do you good service, but the result of rewarding no one, even if deserving, is to discourage emulation in all.” On the reciprocity of liturgy, eisphorai, and epidoseis, see also Gygax (2016) 200–207. 282 283

218

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

relationship in which the liturgy as benefit (εὐεργεσία) necessitated courtesy (χάρις) and therefore created an asymmetrical situation that could only be redressed by appropriate reciprocation. The more cost-intensive the community-related action was, the greater the efforts had to be made to dissolve the resulting obligation relationship and to bring the asymmetrical constellation back into balance. Accordingly, only compensation in the form of prestige, legal advantages or financial gain led back to a symmetrical state between the actor and the community.290 Compensation consisted primarily of honors. For the particularly generous or rapid performance of a liturgy, the political community bestowed crowns and privileges.291 For example, those who were the first to get their trireme seaworthy and to the breakwater were publicly decorated.292 For his services to the rowers during his trierarchy, Apollodorus was even invited to a meal at the Prytaneion by a decision of the assembly.293 The connection between financial benefits and prestige is particularly impressive in the treatment of victorious choregoi, who received a crown in the theater coram publico294 and the opportunity to place a bronze tripod as a monuments to their virtue (μνημεῖα τῆς αὑτῶν ἀρετῆς)295 on an unmissable base.296 The large-scale anathemata found their place in and around the Theater of Dionysus, in the Pythion and on the Acropolis, and along what was already known in antiquity as the Tripod

 Greenberg/Frisch (1972) 100. E. E. Jones/Davis (1965). See also Brandts/Sola (2001) 139 and Falk/Fehr/Fischbacher (2008) 290–291. 291  IG II2 1629 l. 190–204. Demosth. or. 51,1. 292  Cf. the Demosthenic speech. 51 On the Trierarchic Crown. 293  [Demosth.] or. 50,13 . See on invitations in Prytaneion as privilege Gygax (2106) 234–240. 294  P. Wilson (2000) 102. 295  Is. 5,41. 296  This only applied to a victory in the dithyramb agon of the boys’ or men’s choruses – after all, the dithyrambos was the “Chorlied der Polis “par excellence, according to B. Zimmermann (2008) 136 – From the literary tradition also wooden tablets (Plut. Themistocles 5,4) and plates (Theophr. char. 22,1–2) are known, which traditionally recorded the success of the choregoi permanently. In part, however, theatrical masks were consecrated, if the interpretation of the phrase ἡ τῆς σκευῆς ἀνάθεσις (Lys. or. 21,4) in this sense is correct. Finally, a list of victors compiled retrospectively in the 340s published, among other things, the name of choregos (IG II2 2318). On choragic monuments see Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 56–62. Knell (2000) 148–166. P.  Wilson (2000) 198–244. Goette (2007a) and (2007b). Agelidis (2009). On the list of winners, Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 101–107. On the choregy, supra Sect. 4.1.2 with the literature cited in note 80. 290

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

219

Road,297, where a great number of them was concentrated.298 Especially in the second half of the fourth century, the creative effort for choragic monuments increased,299 so that this processional way received a monumental setting300 with a museum-like character.301 Even today, the ten-metre-high Lysicrates monument conveys an impression of the size and appearance of the choragic monuments the design of which was directly determined by the victorious choregoi.302 The accompanying inscriptions inscribed the name of the choregoi in the collective memory of the city.303 Both with the inscription form and with its monumental anathema, the liturgist claimed prominence – which in contrast to the fifth century was also granted to him.304 The appropriation of prominent sites of urban and sacral topography secured the liturgist an audience that interpreted his efforts as financial outlays for the common good and rewarded them with reputation in the long run.305 In contrast, the trierarchy did not know institutionalized competition among trierarchs until the fourth century. To incite competition, the Athenians introduced two agonal practices: First, the three trierarchs who had brought their ship to the pier

 Paus. 1,20,1. There also Lysicrates, who won in 335/4, erected his monument which has become famous. See on the course of the road Agelidis (2009) 112–115; 116–117 and plate 23 fig. A. – The contexts of erection of the choragic monuments on the Acropolis and in the Pythion located southwest of the Olympieion remain obscure, just as the victorious choragic monuments received the site for their tripod-bearing bases: Was the site provided by the polis, did the phyle acquire the land, or did the financier? After all, the Monument of Nicias, for example, occupied a generous 200 sq. m. and was placed right next to the western parodos. On the Monument of Nicias, see P. Wilson (2000) 210 figs. 9 and 226–229. 298  Similarly, above the theater at the katatome, preferably choragic monuments were placed, according to Agelidis (2009) 115. Within the temenos boundaries of the Dionysian sanctuary, on the other hand, only smaller consecrations were offered, if at all. P. Wilson (2000) 209 and 366 note 33. Agelidis (2009) 115. 299  Knell (2000) 148; see the illustrations of the monuments of Lysicrates, Thrasyllus and Nicias in Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 178–180 figs. 16–18. 300  Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 87–88. Agelidis (2009) 117–118. 301  P.  Wilson (2000) 212.  – Even though most of the anathemata followed the model of sacred architecture – Pausanias (1,20,1) naturally referred to the choragic monuments as temples (ναοί) – some monuments were also inspired by profane architecture, according to Agelidis (2009) 119. 302  The high substructure carries a temple-like rotunda on which in turn the tripod offered by the polis as a prize for victory was placed. The total height – without the tripod, but with the roof capital  – is ten meters. On the Monument  of  Lysicrates see Riemann (1956). Travlos (1971) 348. Amandry (1976) 72 fig. 17; 74–76 fig. 43–45; 78 fig. 46. Bauer (1977). Amandry (1997) 465 fig. 14; 469 fig. 16; 485 fig. 17; 487 fig. 18. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 57–59 with 178 fig. 16. Alemdar (2000). Knell (2000) 149–159. P. Wilson (2000) 219–226. Agelidis (2009) 86–88; 165–168; plates 3d and 4a. On the person, Kirchner (1901–1903) II no. 9461. 303  The 33 inscriptions are collected in Agelidis (2009) catalogue nos. 1–11; 13–19; 21–28; 30–32; 34–36. 304  According to Aeschines (3,183–185), not even victorious generals were honored by name in the fifth century. 305  This is certainly also the reason why a synchoregia is attested only once in the urban area (Aristot. Frg. 630) – and that shortly before the end of the war in 405. 297

220

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

first were crowned. The “winners” were announced during the Thargelia.306 The crowns, worth 500, 300 and 100 drachmas respectively, were not to be sold and thus had a purely symbolic function: they signified the gratitude of the polis community for the extraordinary effort. On the other hand, the regular trierarchs were perhaps allowed to take part in a ship race on the occasion of the Panathenaea.307 In this way agonal elements were added to the trierarchia. Significantly, two religious festivals were chosen for both the awarding of the crown and the ship race in order to reach the greatest possible public. Not every liturgist could, of course, win a competition; in the end, however, the liturgist permanently presented themselves to the public: the choregoi occupied a prominent position during the entire festive event, appearing in special clothing and jewelry during the sacrificial procession,308 following the proagon in preferred seats, and receiving seats of honor in the theater during the actual competition.309 In the same way, the trierarch was sure of social perception: for not only was the individual commitment of the trierarchs immense, but also the participation of the institutions formed by the citizens (assembly, council, demarchs, sometimes apostoleis, epimeletai ton neorion, arbitrators and courts) and the penetration of the public sphere (trierarch lists, decisions of the assembly, maritime infrastructure). Moreover, the trierarchy was based on a complex system of verification, accounting and documentation. The practice of decorating the trireme particularly beautifully also testifies to the fact that the ship could function as an object of prestige and, accordingly, the trierarchy as a means of acquiring reputation. In this context, the collective departure of the fleet celebrated in the Piraeus was of great importance.310 Accordingly, the quid pro quo for the various liturgies could vary depending on the situation, could be materially unequal, and could be delayed, but what is clear in all cases is the expectation that there was a mutual relationship of obligation between the polis public and the liturgist. In Athens, then, there existed a system of

 IG II2 1629 a l. 190–204.  Ship race at Sounion: Lys. or. 21,5. This interpretation was put forward by P. Wilson (2000) 48. – As prizes the winner received three oxen and 200 drachmas for a common meal of the 200 rowing phyletai (IG II2 2311 l. 78–81), which was even larger in its extent than for a pyrrhic chorus. 308  Cf. Demosth. or. 21,22: Demosthenes accuses Meidias of trying to destroy the golden crown and the gold-interwoven fabrics made for this purpose. See also P. Wilson (2000) 97–98. 309  P. Wilson (2000) 95–96. 310  Certainly not every departure of a ship was accompanied by the entire Athenian public, but large military engagements received great attention from the urban population, who knew friends and relatives on the trireme. For example, Thucydides (6,30,1–31,1 and 32,1–2) describes the fleet’s departure for Sicily in great detail and atmosphere. 306 307

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

221

reputation that kept watch over whether status and prestige corresponded to contributions to the community.311 Public reputation as a driving force to work for the community was not only an end in itself, but the habitualized orientation towards the common good was elementary for all areas of social life: a good name created trust and secured economic action, established political careers and functioned as a mark of integrity in court. The habitualized common good orientation was only possible because the recognition generated by liturgies and other achievements also built trust, which could be useful in business, in the political field, and in court. The latter was based on the specifically Athenian  – or perceived democratic  – legal system, which (unlike Republican Rome) knew no trained jurists.312 Therefore, the heliasts’ sense of justice played a crucial role. At least where laws were lacking – or not presented to them – they were supposed to decide what was right and what was wrong according to their value system.313 Accordingly, the dikastai exercised norm control over those over whom they sat in judgment. For this reason, “soft” arguments also played a decisive role in the pleadings, which professional logographers such as Lysias, Isaios, Isocrates, or Demosthenes took advantage of. Their experience of which rhetorical strategy proved promising and their practice in formulating persuasively additionally contributed to the emergence of a relatively uniform forensic rhetoric. In doing so, they consistently conceptualized their appeals in terms of recipients: The jurors were composed of a majority of older and poorer citizens,314 who were not only more conservative but also characterized by envy of the (supposedly) financially better off.315 In this context, the parties were even expected in court to include their behavior as “good citizens” – or the bad behavior of their opponents – in their plea316 and to give an account of their lives.317 This included providing financial support to fellow citizens for such things as a dowry, ransom from war captivity, or financing a proper funeral.318 For this reason, military service was often cited as evidence of a

 If it was to be feared that the performance of the individual would not be adequately rewarded, the speakers imagined this negative effect for the future: “Or who will wish to be zealous on your service, when men see that you neither reward those who are honest and obedient, nor punish those who are dishonest and disobedient?” ([Demosth.] or. 50.64). Cf. also [Demosth.] or. 50,66: “[…] you will be taking thought also for those who are to serve [as trierarchs] in the future, so that those who perform public services may not be discouraged, and those who are designated as their successors may not show contempt toward the laws, but may go to their ships when they are appointed.” 312  Connection of democracy and magistracy, especially in Athens, in Aristot. pol. 1275 a 22–33 b 5–6 and [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41,2 . 313  Cf. the heliastic oath handed down by Demosthenes (or. 24,149–151), even if the text he cites is only a paraphrase. See Mirhady (2007). 314  Hansen (1995) 190–191. 315  Envy was sometimes even explicitly addressed, for example in Lys. or. 21,15 and 27,10–11. 316  Cf. for example Lys. or. 7,30; 19,61; 21,18. Is. 6,60. [Demosth.] or. 47,4. 317  Lys. or. 24,1. 318  Lys. or. 19,59. 311

222

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

blameless life and dutiful conduct.319 The eisphorai and liturgies were thus placed on an equal footing.320 Therefore, in legal disputes, the rhetorical strategy of having speakers emphasize their service to the community had become established.321 Liturgies and eisphorai thus signalled personal qualities particularly effectively in the eyes of the speaker and the recipients.322 The liturgists thus did not describe their services because these would have had something to do directly with the subject matter of the court case – for example, Apollodorus cannot demand that Polycles reimburse him for the cost of the golden ornaments on the ship. Even if one does not deny that the speakers – despite all the clichés – had a basic need to commit themselves sacrificially to the polis community, they pursued very specific goals in showing how they had fulfilled their civic duties. They wanted to show their ethos in order to gain advantage in the proceedings: “Truly, this is why I have spent more than the city ordered, so that I would be considered morally better by you, and if some mischief ever happened to me, I would be able to defend myself more skillfully.”323 This was all the more appropriate because rich Athenians were disproportionately on trial.324 Behind this artifice, which was firmly established in the fourth century, were three assumptions. Firstly, a person who behaved in accordance with the civic code of conduct in all situations in life could hardly have been justly accused, and any injustice suffered had to be punished all the more severely the more exemplary the liturgists had fulfilled his duties.325 Secondly, wealth obliges. The performance of liturgy also served as legitimation towards those Athenians who did not have such financial resources, but who sat in judgment on their wealthy fellow citizen. Third,

 Lys. or. 7,41 and 21,20.  Lys. or. 3,47. Cf. on the provision of private means as equivalent to military prowess Adkins (1960) 156–157; 198; 205–208; 226; 238. Dover (1974) 165; 175; 230. Whitehead (1983) 59–60. 321  Lys. or. 21,1–6 (full quote above in Sect. 4.3.1 note 270). Cf. also Lys. or. 3,46; 7,31; 12,38; 13,62; 19,57–58; 21,16–17 and 19; 25,12; 26,3; 30,26. 322  On altruistic – better: prosocial – behavior as a signal of personal qualities, see Hardy/Van Vugt (2006). – At the same time, however, it can be seen that certain liturgies retained their aristocratic character to such an extent and thus ran counter to the democratic idea of equality that they were hardly mentioned in court speeches. Among these was obviously the hippotrophia, which was reserved only for the two uppermost Solonic census classes. Belonging to the elite equestrian class and the aristocratic connotation that horse breeding always retained, it did not seem opportune to mention this liturgy in egalitarian discourse. The same is probably true of errephoria. It, too, was seldom broached, since noble birth and wealth were decisive for the selection. Even if the two (or four) girls who performed a cultic service on the Acropolis for several months stood for all Athenian girls, the errephoria nevertheless constituted “the last grand stronghold of the aristocracy and its values” [P.  Wilson (2000) 43]. In the official reading, the aristocratic competition, the rivalry of the agathoi, thus could serve as the basis for democratic stability, even if individual voices (e.g. Lys. or. 26,3–4) claimed exactly the opposite.  – On the choregy, which oscillated between aristocratic claim to leadership and democratic ideal of equality, see Günther/Weise (2014). 323  Lys. or. 25,13. Cf. for example also Lys. or. 18,23 and 20,31. 324  M. R. Christ (1998) 32–34. 325  [Demosth.] or. 47,48. 319 320

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

223

if a person proved self-sacrificing to the polis, then the polis, in turn, was to stand up for the blameless citizen and support him in court.326 For with their verdict the jurors would also set a sign for the future: Those who fulfilled their civic duties were to receive the thanks of the polis, while those who did not engage in the community to the required degree were to be punished. Hence it was also common practice to discredit one’s opponent in court speeches327 by accusing him of not having participated in campaigns,328 of not having performed eisphora and liturgy, and of concealing his wealth.329 So when Aeschines, in his speech to the jurors, characterized liturgy as “spending fortunes on you”,330 it was not an accusation but a request. He expected a legal advantage in return, rewarding the speaker’s (alleged) impeccable attitude. He thus applied an argumentation that had become established in the long history of court cases and that was so successful because it took up the social canon of values. It was a fine line that the liturgist walked with this rhetorical strategy. Liturgies, because they functioned as indicators of great financial resources, could provoke envy. Speakers needed to portray their liturgies to jurors not so much as conspicuous consumption but more as patriotic acts involving great deprivation. In this sense, speakers emphasized how much they subordinated their (financial) self-interest to the common good.331 Apollodorus is particularly adept at arguing this point in the speech Against Polycles, in which he demands from his litigant the cost of the additional trierarchy service.332 Here, then, the speaker must manage the balancing act of not appearing pettishly concerned about the resources he has spent for the polis while still vehemently advocating his claims. Apollodorus raises the argument between himself and his opponent to a public level, especially in the particularly significant passages at the beginning and end of the speech, and thus inserts the jurors’ decision into the context of the common good.333 Thus, the jurors had to decide not only on the expense of additional trierarchy service, but also “on the laws, whether they be valid or not.”334 His civic duty was not only to execute the liturgy impeccably, but also to bring to just punishment those who were guilty of crimes against the polis.335 Thus, in his words, his motivation for filing the suit was  Cf. for example [Demosth.] or. 50,64.  Lys. or. 30,1. 328  Lys. or. 21,20 and 30,26. Is. 4,29. 329  Thus, for instance, in Lys. or. 22,13; 30,26; 31,12. Is. 4,29; [Demosth.] or. 45,65–66. 330  Aeschin. 1,11 . 331  Lys. or. 21,23–24. 332  [Demosth.] or. 50. 333  [Demosth.] or. 50,1. It can be observed how judicial rhetoric changed from the middle of the fourth century onwards, and the prosecutors placed the political dimension of any offense at the center of the accusation. In this way, any offense advanced to a crime against the polis community and ultimately to high treason. There was a tendency for democracy to drift into totalitarianism. See Flaig (2018) 302–309. 334  [Demosth.] or. 50,1. 335  [Demosth.] or. 50,65. 326 327

224

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

not only private, but also a duty to the polis. Therefore, the jurors were not to punish Polycles so much in the interests of Apollodorus as in their own – to reward the exemplary liturgists and to signal to them that good actions would be rewarded, defaulters would be deterred, and laws would claim validity.336 In the case of a defense, they relied on the opposite reasoning: that it would be more conducive to the common good not to fine the liturgist. For he would be more useful to the polis in possession of his money than a fine or confiscation of property. To acquit the liturgist, he argues, is a matter of the reason of state.337 This is how the circle closes: the jurors “had” to acquit liturgists because they were men with integrity, because they could expect thanks from the Athenians, and because their wealth was more useful in their hands than if the polis accessed it directly. The ethos of the liturgists was not only examined in judicial proceedings, but especially at the dokimasia. This involved “giving an account of one’s entire life” (παντὸς τοῦ βίου λόγον διδόναι).338 As in private trials, evidence of a civic mindedness served as blamelessness – one had not yet stood trial in any case –, war service339 and support of poorer fellow citizens.340 Accordingly, wealthy citizens were accused of not having used anything  – neither their fighting strength nor their wealth – for the defense of democracy.341 Athenians who were considered rich had to be able to show that they had performed liturgy and paid eisphora. This was on a par with military service and underlined their ἀρετή as ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί (virtue as good men). Liturgists, therefore, did well to have a long list of public services to present. They had a better starting position in court cases and in dokimasia proceedings than those who, in the eyes of the jurors, counted among the plousioi but could not enumerate any liturgies. Liturgists could accordingly seek to compensate for their financial losses through intangible gains such as prestige and better starting positions in court. It is even likely, given the character of liturgies as indicators of moral behavior and economic resources, that liturgists recommended as reliable partners were able to compensate for their expenses in other ways in the long run – for example, through collaborations and networks.342

 [Demosth.] or. 50,66 .  Lys. or. 19,61–62. Cf. also Lys. or. 18,20–21 and 21,12–15. 338  Lys. or. 16,9. Cf. also Lys. or. 16,2–3. 339  Lys. or. 16,12. Cf. also Lys. or. 16,17. 340  Lys. or. 16,14. 341  For example, Philon is reproached in his dokimasia for not behaving like a good citizen, since he settled in Oropos as a metic and contributed nothing to the struggle against the rule of the “Thirty” (Lys. or. 31,14–15). 342  Empirical studies show that, in the long term, prosocial behavior pays off not only socially – in the sense of an increase in social status – but also economically. In this context, see the competitive altruism hypothesis by Hardy/Van Vugt (2006) and Sect. 4.3.3 below. 336 337

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

225

4.3.3 Liturgies as Agonal Prosocial Behavior and as an Indicator of Leadership Qualities The principle of Athenian liturgies and eisphorai was therefore not simply based on unilateral money flows, but was integrated into a complex system shaped by moral concepts, customs, and direct and indirect reciprocities. The victorious choregos had the right to immortalize himself in the cityscape with a monument; eisphora payers and liturgists claimed their financial benefits in court in order to gain a favorable starting position. Trierarchs, however, could also dispense with their service, keep their expenses to a minimum, or even make a profit from the trierarchy.343 All these material and immaterial ways of balancing monetary and personal benefits attest to the thoughtful behavior of the actor involved. Liturgists and eisphora payers acted for the good of the community, had to incur significant financial, personal, and time burdens, but had a reasonable expectation that their actions would be rewarded directly or indirectly (as prestige or benefits in court) in the future. In this sense, this behavior – benefiting others at one’s own expense – is given the term altruism in social psychology and in the literature dependent on it. If no or only an internal benefit arises from it, then this form is called “pure altruism”344 If, on the other hand, altruistic behavior simultaneously produces an external benefit for the person acting, then individual authors speak either of “egoistic altruism” or of “reciprocal altruism”.345 Since this combination of terms is tantamount to an oxymoron, it is preferable to use the term “prosocial behavior”, which refers to any cooperative form of action taken for the benefit of another person or a community. To explain this phenomenon, social psychological research uses the so-called prisoner’s dilemma: two criminals are in a dilemma, as their behavior involves opportunities and risks, because their punishment depends on the behavior of the other. If one of them defects (betrays), it is the best outcome for him and the worst outcome for the other. If both defect, it is the third worst outcome for both. If both cooperate (remain silent), it is the second best result for the respective person. So, on balance, it is best for both of them if they cooperate.346 This experiment can be repeated so that the actors can align their behavior with that of the other. This Iterated Prisoner’s Dillemma (ITP) thus makes it possible to

 See Sect. 4.1.2 above in the text to note 133.  Andreoni (1990). 345  See the fundamental study by Trivers (1971). 346  In its basic form, the experiment consists of the following fictitious initial situation: Two criminals are arrested by the police. However, the evidence is not sufficient to punish them for a serious crime. The evidence is only sufficient to convict them of minor offences. The two are questioned separately, neither knowing how the other is behaving. There are now three possibilities: (1) If both criminals deny, they will only be convicted of lesser offenses that can be proven against them: Each must serve one year in prison. (2) If both break silence to confess to the crime, then both are convicted of the more serious crime: They receive nine years in prison. (3) If one of them breaks the silence, he gets off, while the other is charged with the entire crime and receives a higher sentence: The one betrayed must serve ten years in prison. 343 344

226

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

reward cooperation and punish defection. Through the repeated decisions, prosocial behavior proves to be the best strategy that pays off for both the community and the individual. This finding – the individual and collective benefits of cooperation – can also be applied to everyday life, as many interactions are repeated, reputations are at stake, and sanctions are imposed for bad behavior.347 This is where the connectivity of these sociological studies to an examination of ancient conditions becomes apparent: Crucially, prosocial behavior is a general phenomenon and an anthropological constant for securing community; the concrete forms of prosocial behavior, on the other hand, are culture-dependent and take different forms. Accordingly, the public goods games contribute to a better understanding of the liturgy system and allow the social and political implications to be better grasped if the variables (prestige, type of prosocial behavior, sanctions and rewards, publicity and interaction) are filled with context-dependent meaning.348 In this sense, then, prosocial behavior pays off for both the individual and the community if the individual gains prestige through his or her common good-­oriented action. However, this only succeeds if the prosocial act is intentional. In Athens, the intentionality of the prosocial act was based on the balance of voluntariness and coercion: voluntariness was established by the possibility of concealing one’s wealth. It formed the precondition for liturgy or eisphorai to be performed intentionally. Even if liturgies were required by law, the Athenian liturgist was ultimately free to decide at what expense he wished to provide his service to the community: he could provide only the bare necessities, but he could also make his choregy or trierarchy (or other liturgy) particularly costly, for example, by furnishing the chorus with exquisite props or providing his trireme with expensive ornaments or professional rowing personnel. Acts beneficial to the common good were thus not standardized in scope; rather, the extent to which it was engaged was left to the actor. The compulsion stemmed from the legal provisions or moral obligation and was significant because pure voluntarism would have required no sacrifice from the actors. Accordingly, in order to characterize their behavior as prosocial and intentional, speakers took pains in court to portray their actions as deliberate, voluntary, as costly as possible, personally burdensome, and in accordance with moral values. If these basic conditions  – reputation as a social value, intentional prosocial behavior and individual differences in prosocial behavior – are given, then competitive altruism can develop.349 Agonal prosocial behavior (in the sense of competitive  Rand/Greene/Nowak (2012) especially 428–429.  The question of the transferability of modern behavioral psychological patterns to other historical contexts is answered in the affirmative by evolutionary psychologists and anthropologists: Human prosocial behavior has emerged since the earliest forms of human communalization; it is virtually the condition of culture. Communities that were particularly prosocially oriented proved to be the most successful and therefore the most capable of survival. Cf. on prosocial behavior as an evolutionary stabilisation strategy Nowak/Sigmund (1998). Gintis/Smith/Bowles (2000). Van Vugt/G. Roberts/Hardy (2007). – This results in cognitive constants to reward prosocial behavior. Tomasello (2010). In contrast, the forms of prosocial behavior and the reward strategies are culturally dependent and differ from society to society. Strombach et al. (2014). 349  G. Roberts (1998). Hardy/Van Vugt (2006). Van Vugt/G. Roberts/Hardy (2007). 347 348

4.3 Reciprocity of the leiturgia and eisphora Systems

227

altruism) thus means the competition for reputation that a person acquires because he provides his own resources for others or for the community. This approach precisely meets the Athenian conditions: The very choaegic monuments that adorned the Tripod Road vividly illustrate the agonal character of the liturgies. The rivalry of the liturgists extended not only to winning the dithyrambic competition with the chorus, but also to presenting a first-class chorus during the procession and the agon proper. In addition, the various construction forms and dimensions of the tripod substructures attest to the fact that the liturgists sought to outdo the had-been and future successful choregoi with their large and innovative monuments. Liturgists used their achievements for the community to distinguish themselves in public on various levels in competition with other liturgists – liturgies are thus agonal prosocial behavior in its purest form. For the establishment of agonal prosocial behavior as a competition for social recognition, the interested public is of essential importance: only when there is an audience composed of relevant persons who interpret both the action and the intention of the action as prosocial, pass on this information as a reputation to other members of the community or reward it in some other way, can agonal prosocial behavior fully develop.350 In general, the willingness to spend financial resources on others increases if it can be assumed that the action will be closely observed.351 This results in demands on population size and social structure: the society must be sufficiently large and must not be based exclusively on family relationships; but it must also not be too large in number – and this applies in particular to ancient societies with their limited means of communication – in order to avoid the anonymisation of the actors and to enable the observation of behavior. With regard to ancient interaction conditions, this also includes a corresponding population density, so that messages and their interpretations could circulate among as many members as possible. Although the Attic polis was not a face-to-face society in the sense that everyone knew each other and interacted with each other directly, the Athenians were networked in many ways and were thus able to pass on information about liturgists. The relevant actors communicated directly with each other in the assembly, whether on the Pnyx or in the theater, where the relevant honors were also awarded. Honorary awards could also be discussed during council meetings, which were watched by spectators.352 Similarly, the courts and the agora provided ideal venues for direct communication about prosocial behavior. The information conveyed in these institutions at the polis level about liturgists whose behavior was interpreted as prosocial could in turn be passed on in the face-to-face society of the deme level.353 In general, the (usually) small demes, with their relatively small number of citizens,354 were of fundamental importance; they therefore played an essential role in the direct  Van Vugt/G. Roberts/Hardy (2007).  See on the connection between visibility (or reduction of anonymity) and intensification of cooperation Jerdee/Rosen (1974). Fox/Guyer (1978). Axelrod (1984). 352  Demosth. or. 19,17. Aeschin. 3,12. Xen. hell. 2,3,50. 353  So also Ober (1989) 150. 354  See, for example, Lotze (1985) 385. 350 351

228

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

interaction with liturgists, the interpretation of their liturgies as prosocial behavior, and the transmission of this interpretation as prestige: it was here that the demarchs determined who would be called upon to perform services for the polis, it was here that social life took place for many Athenian citizens, and it was here that good reputation paid off in terms of social, political, and economic trust. In addition to these forms of direct communication on the polis as well as on the deme level, all kinds of indirect communication were of great importance. These included all inscriptions and monumental forms of honors such as the victors’ list or the choragic monuments. But also written speeches such as the Demosthenic On the Trierarchic Crown or For Ctesiphon (also known as On the Crown) addressed an audience that interpreted the liturgies described in them as prosocial behavior and rewarded them with reputation. As synchronous or diachronic communication, this indirect transmission of information reached not only one’s immediate contemporaries but also later generations, so that Athenians who distinguished themselves before other citizens could also serve as role models for future “cohorts” with whom one entered into an agon. It was precisely the broad public that was reached by the setting up of choragic monuments, and which could easily compare the expense of the closely spaced anathemata, that encouraged the financial efforts of the victorious choregoi.355 For it can be assumed that actors prefer situations that guarantee a large audience for their prosocial behavior.356 The agonal character of the liturgies is particularly evident in the voluntary services: Those who could afford it and wanted to, performed more than they had to, as liturgies served as indicators of resources, conspicuous consumption, and markers of distinction. They marked one’s position in the social matrix and made the liturgic citizen feel that he belonged to a distinguished group. This contest of prosocial behavior was ultimately also about political influence. This is because moral and cooperative partners are often preferred in the formation of alliances, partnerships and networks.357 One explanation for this could be that the formation of ties is based on personal trust, which is why individuals with integrity are given preference. Trust, in turn, is established primarily through a good reputation based on generally accepted behavior. This is all the more true for a society like the Athenian one, which, apart from trust, ultimately knew no other ways and means of guaranteeing the security of social, but also political and economic connections.358 In this  Even a small-scale version of the choragic monuments, for example, could be criticized as greed (Theophr. char. 22,1–2): “The disposition unworthy of a free man is a lack of love of honor, which is accompanied by expenditure, but the faint-hearted man is one (2) who has triumphed with a tragic chorus and consecrates a wooden board to Dionysus, inscribing only his name on it.” 356  Smith/Bliege Bird (2000). 357  See Hardy/Van Vugt (2006) especially 1410. 358  Cf. for example Demosth. or. 36,44: “It is remarkable what a striking thing it is in the eyes of people who are active in commercial life and in banking, when the same man is accounted industrious and is honest. […] If you do not know that for money-making the best capital of all is trustworthiness, you do not know anything at all.”  – See on trust as fundamental to Athenian society Johnstone (2011). 355

4.4 Results

229

context, liturgies in the sense of prosocial behavior are a particularly reliable indicator of integrity and willingness to cooperate, since they were associated with high costs as well as great expenditure of time – in the case of the trierarchy even with military risks – and could therefore not simply be imitated or simulated.359 At the same time, people who were committed to the community in the eyes of the public were generally viewed more positively and elected to leadership positions more often than those who did not distinguish themselves through their community-­ related actions; regardless of sympathy, they were ascribed more influence, importance, and respect overall.360 This is because generosity, honesty, a sense of responsibility, and fairness are considered typical leadership qualities.361 The effect is all the greater the higher the costs to the community.362 Accordingly, leadership not only indicated wealth, prestige and social status, but also served as an indicator of political ability.

4.4 Results In contrast to Sparta, Athens formed a complicated system of private financing of public tasks. In both the religious and military spheres, wealthy citizens took over the organization and costs of public tasks. In the process, the polis community tended to make the group of people liable to pay levies smaller and smaller, until ultimately only five percent of the citizens had to pay liturgies and eisphora at all, and one (to 1.5) percent eventually took over the entire responsibility. Liturgists financed about half of the cultic expenditures within the framework of choregies. In the military sphere, dependence on the trierarchs exceeded the quantifiable share of total funding and followed directly from the way Athens met war expenses in the fourth century: the dissolution of the Delian League as well as the disintegration of the Second Athenian League meant that military operations were chronically underfunded. The remedying of this deficit was not addressed officially-collectively, but was placed in the private-individual hands of strategoi and trierarchs. In this way, they were granted an official position, as it were, as an indispensable component of the war machine far from home.

 See on costly signaling theory (CST) as an explanation for the provision of public goods Smith/ Bliege Bird (2000). 360  Hardy/Van Vugt (2006) especially 1407–1408 and 1410–1411. Cf. also Milinski/Semmann/ Krambeck (2002), who conclude that individuals who donate publicly to charity can enhance their political reputation. 361  Lord/Maher (1991). 362  Hardy/Van Vugt (2006). 359

230

4  The Connection Between Economic and Social Elite

In this context, the liturgy system, with its considerable use of private resources, was based on the balanced relationship between service and consideration. The social appreciation of service to the community as an essential motor for the formation of the agonal character of the liturgy system is particularly evident in the high-­ profile cultic liturgies: Here, the choregy of an individual (as opposed to the syntrierarchy) remained the primary form, especially since the opportunities to gain prestige through elaborate consecrations were much greater in the second half of the fourth century than they had been at the beginning of the century. Liturgies signalled economic resources and manifested social status; but they also suggested generosity, selflessness, reliability and a sense of duty – qualities that could be interpreted as leadership qualities. Liturgists were therefore able to feel that they belonged to a prominent social group, so that even oligarchically minded circles could be integrated. Nevertheless, the social consensus did not break down in the face of the ambition of the liturgists and the enormous demands made on them. Democratic society could and had to accept philotimia in the financial sphere in order to guarantee its own functioning. This was flanked by the rhetoric of the common good, which gained general acceptance through frequent repetition. This reciprocal system of common good performed and prestige granted in return functioned only in this social constellation on which the liturgical stratum depended. It was therefore a characteristic of the Athenian socio-economic elite to feel more closely connected to the community of all citizens than to the group of liturgists – despite their status-oriented consciousness. They did not form an exclusive elite, but one that was open in principle, characterized by above-average financial resources and reputations tied to prosocial behavior. At the same time, belonging to the elite could not be perpetuated or even inherited indefinitely, but had to be renewed again and again through community-­ based action. Whether members of the liturgical stratum could also form a political elite within a democracy based on a discourse of equality remains to be clarified in the following.

5

The Connection Between Socio-­Economic and Political Elite

Probably the most striking visual representation of political content crowns a stele bearing a law against tyranny. The relief shows the personification of Demokratia crowning an older, bearded man as the embodiment of the Demos1 – the democratic constitution honors the Athenian people. Thus, with only a few elements, the intent of the law is figuratively realized: In the late spring of 336 a certain Eucrates made a proposal in the assembly which met with general approval and which the nomothetes made law.2 The nomos gave instructions in case of an overthrow. After the usual dating and the wish that the nomothetes might give the decision the force of law, the legitimization of tyrannicide follows. According to this, whoever killed someone who wanted to become a tyrant, who actively supported such a plan, or who dissolved the democracy, was to be atoned. The following section forbade any activities of the Areopagus in case of a change of constitution and threatened Areopagites who violated this rule and their descendants with atimia and confiscation of property. There is no doubt that the law was intended to stabilize democracy. For the historical location of the nomos, two approaches were pursued: a foreign and a domestic political context. Thus, the motion of Eucrates represented a reaction to the increase in importance of the Areopagus, which was still considered a council of nobles.3 In contrast, Engels emphasized that although the assembly of former  See on the relief Meritt (1952) with plate 89. Raubitschek (1962). U.  Kron (1979) 59–60. M.  Meyer (1989) 293 cat. no. A 97 plate 30.2. Lawton (1995) cat. no. 38. Glowacki (2003) 453–454. 2  IG II3 320 = SEG 12,87 = HGIÜ 258 = P. E. Harding (1985) no. 101 = Schwenk (1985) no. 6. Editio princeps Meritt (1952) 355–359 no. 5. See on the inscription Ostwald (1955). Engels (1988a). Wallace (1989a) 179–184. Blanshard (2004). Bianchi (2005). Hasskamp (2005) 158–165. Teegarden (2014) 85–112. – Whether the claimant Eucrates is identical with the bearer of the same name executed by Antipater in 322 (Lucian. Dem. enc. 31) cannot be proved. 3  On the Areopagus in the fourth century, see Philippi (1874) 151–195. Carawan (1985). Engels (1988a). Wallace (1989a) 131–206. Hasskamp (2005) 149–165. Zelnick-Abramovitz (2011). 1

© Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Rohde, From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5_5

231

232

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

archons had indeed received more powers from about the middle of the fourth century, these extensions of authority were always limited in time by the ekklesia, otherwise the decisions of the Areopagus had only a deliberative function. Its de facto power was based primarily on its reputation as an assembly of worthy, just men of moral integrity.4 Moreover, Zelnick-Abramowitz was able to demonstrate5 that the Areopagus was even regarded as the guarantor of the democratic order (ἡ τῆς πολιτείας φυλακή).6 Accordingly, the present nomos filled a gap in the law, since the previous provisions dealing with attempted overthrows had failed to explicitly sanction the possible involvement of the Areopagus.7 The nomos therefore took into account the changed importance of this council.8 Moreover, since it did not contain any measures to reverse the expansion of authority, the Eucrates law can be interpreted as an attempt to integrate the Areopagus into the democratic institutional structure.9 In addition, the fact that the Areopagus was composed of former archons who had been admitted for life apparently played a role. Thus, the council could not simply be dissolved or assembled anew. The Eucrates law was therefore also intended to prevent an Areopagus ensuring continuity from lending legitimacy to a new regime.10 Since the law against tyranny of 336 was not exclusively directed against subversive tendencies of the Areopagus council, one went over to emphasize the foreign policy context as the decisive motive, since Philip had eliminated democracy in many poleis in the run-up to the Battle of Chaeronea and installed governments compliant to him. Likewise, Demosthenes had warned earlier that individual fellow citizens wanted to overthrow democracy in favor of the Macedonian.11 But even this interpretation misses the point: No doubt the outside threat was perceived as frightening immediately before and immediately after the battle. But Eucrates, after all, did not make his proposal until two years after the Battle of Chaeronea. Fear of Philip and his Athenian accomplices thus does not provide sufficient justification, especially since converging opinions about “correct” foreign policy decisions did not necessarily have to be discharged into attempted overthrows – especially not in a polis with such a strong democratic tradition as Athens. For this to happen, another factor had to be added. Thus, in his interpretation of the law, Teegarden pointed out that at the time of Eucrates the fear of a gradual overthrow was present in contemporary speeches.12 The dangerous thing about this “subversion by evolution rather than revolution” was that “democrats might not

 Engels (1988a).  Zelnick-Abramovitz (2011). 6  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 25,2. 7  Thus the law of 336 repeats in large part the law against tyranny of 410 (And. 1,96–98). 8  Bleckmann (1998) 437. 9  Engels (1988a). Following him Hasskamp (2005) 161. 10  Schwenk (1985) 33–41. Similarly, Hasskamp (2005) 162–163 and Teegarden (2014) 103–104. 11  Demosth. or. 8,61. 9,53. 10,68. 19, 225–227 and 299. [Demosth.] or. 7,17. 12  Teegarden (2014) 91, 99 and 111. 4 5

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious…

233

realize that their regime is essentially overthrown.”13 Although his proposed equation of the pro-Macedonian forces with anti-democratic ones is not entirely convincing – why should politicians like Philocrates or Aeschines, who urge agreement with the Macedonian king, not be genuine democrats?14 – Teegarden nevertheless drew attention to a crucial point. Just as the Demophantos psephisma, immediately after the fall of the “Four Hundred”, obliged the Athenians to protect democracy and explicitly spoke of a tyranny,15 so now the motion of Eucrates adapted the provisions to current developments. By 336, therefore, it had been intuitively or consciously grasped that democracy was changing its character in a gradual process of persuasion in the assembly and invocation of the common good16: an elite had been formed that was potentially capable of organizing a coup, persuading the Areopagus as a crucial democratic institution to cooperate, and subsequently establishing a functional government. The crucial question, therefore, is how a socio-economic elite formed into a political one that by 336 was believed to be able to overthrow democracy.

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious Rhetor Distinguish Himself? The majority rule practiced in Athens is the most presuppositional decision rule of all.17 It forces the outvoted minority to follow the will of the majority and accept the decision as binding. This requires not only a high tolerance for frustration, but also confidence that the decisions reflect the common good. What counts as the common good may spring from a basic consensus, but how it is to be achieved is fluid and based on individual judgment. This inevitably leads to different courses of action.18 Accordingly, deliberation is fundamental for a community to reach decisions by majority vote.19

 Ibid. 111.  After all, the political elite had to be interested in a stable constitution. This, of course, did not exclude a peace agreement if it was seen as positive for Athens. Especially the almost simultaneous events of 336/5 show that it was not necessarily the pro-Macedonian forces within the Areopagus that were perceived as a problem: Alexander demanded, among other things, an internal investigation into who was involved in the Theban revolt (Diod. 17,15,3). The Areopagus, of all people, was entrusted with the investigation by the assembly, which, however, dragged it out without result and in agreement with the demos (Dein. 1,10–11). 15  Andoc. 1,97. See on the discursive equation of tyranny and oligarchy Jordović (2005) 180–185. 16  This was ultimately recognized by Teegarden (2014) 91, even if he did not elaborate the idea to the last degree. 17  Flaig (2013a) formulated the conditions for the use of majority rule 151–154. See on majority rule in general Flaig (2013a) and (2013b) and specifically on majority rule in Athenian democracy Timmer (2009). 18  Flaig (2013a) 255. 19  Flaig (2013a) 279–299. 13 14

234

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

Winning over the majority required logical argumentation, expertise, the reputation of an expert, and rhetorical skill. Rhetors therefore had to weigh up which topics they wanted to speak on before the assembly and how they formulated their advice  – especially because domestic and foreign policy advanced in the fourth century to specialist areas in which only experts could insist.20 In order to promote one’s own position, it was important to strike the right tone and to have a feeling for what moved the citizens. Demosthenes experienced how difficult this was. Even the greatest orator of antiquity was not always convincing with his rhetorical skills at the beginning of his career; with his first speech Demosthenes failed in the assembly.21 In his second speech, in 354, he apparently succeeded better in striking the spirit of the times; at least it was received with approval22 and seemed worthy of Demosthenes to circulate it in written form as well.23 While the style and brevity of the speech still betray his insecurity, his comparatively sober reflections24 provide insight into how the aspiring orator wanted to make a name for himself. To this end, he positioned himself in a situation that was controversial in terms of foreign policy. In the power-politically and financially disastrous phase directly after the Social War, Athens was confronted with three sources of conflict: The Third  Sacred War had already lasted a year and Philip II was among Athens’ declared enemies. In addition, the Persian king was preparing for a war against Phoenicia and Egypt,25 which the Athenians feared might ultimately be directed against them.26 This was not entirely unfounded; after all, Athens had broken her  Ober (2016) 351.  Plut. Demosthenes 6,3. 22  Demosth. or. 15,6. 23  Demosth. or. 14 On the Symmories or On the Relation to the Persian King. See on this speech generally Schäfer (1885–1887) I 455–471. E. Link (1940). Bounas (2016) 301–318. – Whether the Demosthenic speeches before the assembly were actually published is debated. Trevett (1996), for example, was able to show that, apart from the anecdote handed down by Plutarch (Demosth. or. 11,4), there is no positive evidence that the deliberative speeches were published by Demosthenes himself. He himself assumes that they circulated in written form after his death, probably prompted by his nephew Demochares. The basis for this were the notes that Demosthenes had made. So also, in summary, Trevett (2011) 18–22. By contrast, see Tuplin (1998) as well as Milns (2000), who assume that the surviving speeches to the assembly were carefully selected and polished and were therefore published by Demosthenes himself. MacDowell (2009) 8 takes a middle position, as it were: Demosthenes had not revised and published the majority of the speeches. He allows only the 8th and 18th speeches to be exceptions. – Obviously, however, the speech On the Symmories also belongs to the speeches that Demosthenes intended for an in-depth reading that goes beyond the immediate time-bound. But even if Demosthenes did not circulate the speech himself, this only strengthens the argument made here: Demosthenes submitted a highly complex reform proposal to the assembly, which he could not assume to be auditorily grasped in all its details; accordingly, the competent impression it left on his listeners was sufficient for him. Cf. also the judgment of Cooper (2004) 152–153, who, with reference to On the Symmories, emphasizes that the first speeches were of Thucydidean style and that the difficult argumentation only became apparent through close reading. 24  Schäfer (1885–1887) I 470. 25  Diod. 16,40. 26  Demosth. or. 14,2. 20 21

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious…

235

neutrality more than once.27 The other rhetors reacted to the rumors of an imminent war of aggression by the Persians with two main strategies: either they stirred up panic or they incited belligerence.28 In this constellation, Demosthenes took the floor and called for moderation.29 His speech is all about balance; he presents himself as a democratic patriot, safegards himself in all directions, avoids personal attacks and nevertheless wants to leave his mark. Demosthenes achieved this by, in the spirit of Eubulus, advising against war in the financially strained situation but at the same time recommending armaments. This way, one would be armed against all enemies (including Philip II), would not give the Great King any reason to attack and, moreover, would recommend oneself to the other Greeks as an ally. Thus, the speaker managed the transition from foreign policy to domestic administration, from a discussion of war and peace to a restructuring of the trierarchy and its associated symmories. His proposals for reform dominated the presentation to such an extent that the specific occasion receded into the background and the speech was subsequently named On the Navy Boards or On the Symmories.30 To give an idea of the complexity of the proposals, let us quote one of the key passages: (16) But seeing you thus resolved and enthusiastic, I propose that the register of the twelve hundred should be filled up and enlarged to two thousand by the addition of eight hundred names; for if you fix on that number, I believe that you will get your twelve hundred persons, after striking out epikleroi, orphans, cleruchs, koina, and anyone otherwise ineligible. (17) Then I propose to divide these into twenty boards, as at present, each containing sixty persons. Each of these boards I would subdivide into five groups of twelve men, always attaching to the wealthiest man those who are poorest, to keep the balance. That is how I propose to arrange these persons; you will understand why, when you have heard the whole of the arrangement. (18) Now what about the war-galleys? I propose to fix the total number at three hundred, divided into twenty squadrons of fifteen ships each, assigning to each squadron five of the first hundred, five of the second, and five of the third; and next to allot a squadron of fifteen to each board, and the board must assign three vessels to each of its own groups.31

The proposals are highly complicated and subsequently still involve the eisphora, the ship’s equipment and the manning.32 Even an experienced and attentive listener in the assembly could not grasp the organizational optimizations. Written elaboration and an overview are needed to understand the individual planning steps (see Table 5.1).

 For example, the Athenian general Chabrias had placed himself (without official commission) in the service of Pharaoh (Diod. 15,92 and Nepos Chabr. 3). 28  Demosth. or. 14,8; 25–27; 31; 33. 29  Demosth. or. 15,6. 30  Demosthenes (or. 14,2) named the subject of his speech On the Relation to the Persian King, while Libanios (arg. Demosthenes 14,3) gives the title On the Symmories. 31  Demosth. or. 14,16–18. 32  Demosth. or. 14,19–30. 27

236

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

Table 5.1  The proposal of Demosthenes in his speech On the Symmories from the year 354/3 Persons obliged to liturgy: Triremes: 1200 + 800 other persons minus 800 300 triremes (100 grade A, 100 grade B, 100 grade persons released from duty C) systematized into 20 units: =1200 persons available annually to be 20 units of 15 vessels (5 grade A, 5 grade B, 5 distributed: grade C) → 20 symmories → 1 unit of 3 ships → 1 symmory with 60 men =1 symmory with 5 divisions 1 detachment of 12 men → 20 symmories with 15 triremes each = 5 division of 15 triremes each → 1 detachment of 12 men and 3 triremes (1 A-grade trireme, 1 B-grade trireme, 1 C-grade trireme)

Demosthenes thus used his experience as a trierarch to expose the deficits of the system, which had been established for a few years, and to work out solutions.33 In doing so, he did not contrive a completely new organization, but reshaped the existing one into a well-structured system with fixed rules. Even if his proposals did not meet with the necessary approval to result in a formal legislative proposal, the thirty-year-old was able to recommend himself to the assembly as a foreign policy advisor and expert on public finances.34 For this he even accepted that his listeners in the assembly did not fully understand the details of his proposals. It was enough that they recognized his competence. This was obviously so important to him that he wrote down the speech and had it circulated.35 After his first failed attempt, then, Demosthenes oriented himself even more closely towards the specific requirements that an aspiring rhetor had to fulfill and which Aristotle perhaps at the same time categorized in his Rhetoric under the five main subjects of public deliberation (πόροι, πόλεμος καὶ εἰρήνη, φυλακὴ τῆς χώρας, τὰ εἰσαγόμενα καὶ ἐξαγόμενα, νομοθεσία).36 In this, Demosthenes cleverly mixed the themes of “revenue” and “war and peace” and made them the leitmotif of his speech to the assembly. Shortly before, he had taken a similar position on  See on the reform of Periander above Sect. 4.1.2. Cf. also Demosth. or. 18,104. Hyp. fr. 160. – Accordingly, Demosthenes identified four deficiencies of the system, as it had existed since 358/7. One was that the number of people grouped in symmories was effectively too small, since a certain number were annually excused from taking on a liturgy. Another problem was the economically heterogeneous composition of the symmories, which meant that individuals were overreached. As a third difficulty, Demosthenes named both the different state of preservation of the triremes, which led to the fact that the burdens were unequally distributed, and the unsettled responsibilities, which brought delays in the mobilization. A fourth problem Demosthenes identified was leaving the distribution of costs in the symmories to private individuals, which is why some bore more than their fair share. 34  It is not entirely clear whether the Demosthenic reform proposal actually resulted in a legislative proposal. He probably used the speech to gauge the reactions to his plans and the success of a formal proposal. On Demosthenes’ lack of success before the mid-340s, see Cawkwell (1962a) 377–378 and (1962c) 135–140. (1963) 53. Badian (2000) 26–37. Hunt (2010) 236. 35  On the question whether Demosthenes published his speeches, see above note 23. 36  Aristot. rhet. 1,4,7. On the dating, see Alexiou (2014) 763–764. 33

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious…

237

“import and export”, “revenue” and “legislation” in the court speech Against Leptines.37 The first speeches of Demosthenes not only show what was currently being discussed, but they also reveal that the assembly relied on expert opinions for important issues; it decided primarily on the basis of trust and competence – even though the citizens were knowledgeable in many areas and accustomed to long and complicated speeches in the ekklesia through their occupations in various administrative posts, in the council or in the courts.38 Accordingly, those who put forward proposals had to respond to the high expectations of the audience. This had always been intrinsic to democracy. But in the fourth century, compared to the fifth century, the socio-economic and financial constellation had changed decisively. The abolition of the tributs of the Delian League after the Peloponnesian War forced a reorientation and refinement of the financial organization. At the same time, at the latest since the concentrated financial expertise of Agyrrhius and Callistratus in the 370s, the intricate revenue and expenditure structure with its various foreign and domestic policy implications39 placed high demands on the e­ xpertise of the rhetors. In the financial crisis following the Social War, economic knowledge not only gained in importance, but also became more conceptually sophisticated: already in the late fifth century, the rationalization of economy (οἰκονομία) had begun in elite circles,40 but it was Xenophon, Plato, Aristotle, and pseudo-Aristotle who raised political economy (πολιτικὴ οἰκονομία) to an unprecedented (and

 Demosth. or. 20 (Against Leptines). Before the end of the Social War, Leptines had proposed a law to abolish the ateleia, with a few exceptions, in order to close – in modern terms – tax loopholes. Demosthenes opposed this law, pointing out that the financial advantage was rather small: after all, it would deprive the polis of an effective instrument of stimulation. On the speech, see also above Sect. 2.2.2 note 258. 38  The high level of competence of the average Athenian is emphasized by Pébarthe (2006), among others. Ober (2008) 166–167. Pritchard (2010) 47–51 and (2019). 39  Agyrrhius, who initiated the Grain Tax Law 374/3 (see above Sect. 2.2.2 with note 315), was the uncle of Callistratus and had not only introduced him to political activity at an early age, but also familiarized him with economic issues, according to Funke (1980a )111–112; 145–146 and Funke (2018) 160. Both were especially active in the 370s, introducing a number of fiscal innovations: for example, Agyrrhius was the initiator of the Grain Tax Law of 374/3 (SEG 48,96 = Stroud (1998) = Rhodes/Osborne (2007) no. 26). Callistratus, the ‘second Pericles’, as Beloch (1884a) 145–146 called him, introduced the concept of syntaxeis in the early years of the Second Athenian League (Theopompus FGrH 115 F 98) and later, in his exile in the 360s, doubled the revenue from the port duties of the Macedonian port city of Methone ([Aristot.] oec. 2,2,22). The symmory reform of 378/7 and the Law of Silver Coinage of 375/4 also go back to Agyrrhius and Callistratus respectively, according to Funke (2018) 160. Moreover, in 375/4 he had reached the office of epistates of Nike by election (IG II2 1424, l. 31–35). On Agyrrhius see above Sect. 2.2.2 and on Callistratus fundamentally Hochschulz (2007). 40  Thus the sophists had formulated instructions to optimize household management. Cf. Antiph. 87 b 53–54. Democr. 68 B 218–222. 279–280. 282. 37

238

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

unmatched in antiquity) intellectual level.41 As a result, the culture of debate became more refined, forcing competing speakers to submit creative proposals to the assembly. The series of innovative laws that testify to the expertise of the proposers is long and includes, in addition to the various reforms of the symmories42 and liturgies,43 for example, the introduction of merismos no later than 386,44 the Grain Tax law of 374/3,45 the establishment of the dikai emporikai between 354 and 342,46 and the currency reform in 353.47 Since only a small circle was economically available and had the opportunity to be continuously politically active in order to acquire the necessary foreign and domestic policy expertise and to shape them into advice,48 most of the known rhetors came from the liturgical stratum.49 Even though a relatively large number of Athenians as a whole made individual motions, only a small group spoke on important issues: Hansen assumes a number of about twenty leading orators at a time, while several hundred citizens occasionally spoke.50 This assumption did not go unchallenged; in particular, the systematic evaluation of the inscriptions was intended to provide clarity on the question of how many individuals were actually able to gain political influence in the ekklesia. Thus, on the basis of the 79 inscriptions from the period between 354/3 and 322/1 that could be evaluated prosopographically, Lambert attempted to prove that the proponents of laws and resolutions did not only come from a small group of wealthy Athenians,  With Xenophon’s reflections in his Poroi, literary production on economic coections reached its peak, which is unique for the whole of antiquity, even though Xenophon drafts purely practical advice and does not undertake any analysis of public finance or even political economy. His proposals aim at successively providing the Athenians with a daily income of three obols, making the polis as a whole better, and guaranteeing peaceful coexistence with other poleis – with the vision of Athenian hegemony. All this could be achieved, he argues, if Athens made systematic use of Attica’s natural conditions. In doing so, Xenophon basically starts at three points: making the influx to Athens attractive to foreigners, promoting long-distance trade, and finally systematically exploiting the silver deposits. Which of these ideas was actually implemented is difficult to decide. At the very least, we know that at the same time silver mining was promoted again, the legal situation of metics was improved, and trade was encouraged by the establishment of special legal procedures. On the Poroi, see the literature cited above in Sect. 1.3 note 83. – On the economic reflections of the other authors mentioned, Gauthier (1976) 217–218 and (1984a) 191–192. Spahn (1984) 316–323. Baloglou/Constantinidis (1993) 36–39; 91–110; 120–151. Schofield (1993). Spielvogel (2001) 88–89. 42  See Sect. 4.1.1 above. 43  See Sect. 4.1.2 above. 44  See Sect. 2.2.1 note 197 above. 45  See Sect. 2.2.2 above. 46  See Sect. 2.2.2 above. 47  In 353 Athens declared all old silver coins invalid, recalled them and had them restruck in the new “pi style”. The resulting minting fees provided the polis with one-off special revenues. See Kroll (2011). 48  Cf. Demosth. or. 14,14. 49  The evidence is collected in Perlmann (1963) 334 note 38. 50  Hansen (1984b). 41

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious…

239

but that “political influence was in fact wielded to a significant degree by ordinary individual Athenians”.51 Apart from two minor arithmetical errors,52 four substantial arguments can be put forward against this assumption: 1. The inscription distribution, i.e. the sample, is not representative, as the figures provided by Lambert impressively show.53 For example, Demosthenes is among the 43 petitioners who succeeded in passing only one measure each. Of him, however, it is known through literary tradition that he proposed 38 decrees.54 This statistical inadequacy cannot be corrected by pointing out that Demothenes is simply overrepresented in the literary tradition. Rather, the findings show that compared to Demosthenes, a person like Lycurgus, of whom only one speech has survived, did not receive the literary appreciation that he should have received. Lycurgus could therefore have convinced the ekklesia of the necessity of his proposals even more frequently than the eight epigraphically documented measures suggest. This is indicated, among other things, by the absence of Eubulus as a proposer in the epigraphic evidence. We can therefore only conclude from the inscriptions that eleven proposers carried at least 37 resolutions, or about fifty percent.55 The remaining proposals may or may not have come from individuals who had made only a single successful speech. With regard to Demosthenes or Eubulus, it can even be assumed that among them there are actually several influential rhetors from the first, second, or third ranks, whom we cannot identify as such because of the incompleteness of the source material. The evaluation of the inscribed proposers and the frequency of their successful actions is therefore moot. 2. The conclusion that not only wealthy or rich citizens could win the assembly for a proposal, but also “average” Athenians, is methodologically questionable: Lambert classifies the applicants according to different criteria and forms a total of four classes56: Group A are liturgists and their relatives, as well as persons otherwise attested as very wealthy and prominent. Group B1 are “attested in contexts suggestive of wealth or prominence.”57 Group B2 include men attested in contexts not suggestive of economic status or prestige. Finally, Group C is made up of Athenians who remain completely anonymous. This group represents about 20 percent; thus, we know nothing at all about one in five applicants. More seriously, however, only wealthy persons can be identified as such in inscriptions; persons of low economic status necessarily cannot be accounted  Lambert (2018a). Quote ibid. 173.  The total of adopted measures in the list in Lambert (2018a) 184 should be 79 (and not 80) and the total in the second row of Table 1 (ibid. 190) should be 100 (and not 101) percent; the latter is probably a rounding inaccuracy. 53  Lambert (2018a) 184–187. 54  Hansen (1984b) 133. Lambert (2018a) 185. 55  See the list in Lambert (2018a) 184. 56  Lambert (2018a) 191. 57  Ibid. 51 52

240

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

for.58 Groups B2 and C (41 percent in total) must therefore be statistically disregarded. This leaves group A and B1, which – contrary to Lambert’s assumption – are to be taken together: For the boundary between those who belonged to the liturgists and who did not was fluid,59 and wealth (just like poverty) was assessed highly subjectively, so that a differentiation into liturgists and the rich is impossible. However, both groups combined make up about 59 percent. But then what do the statistics say? Exactly the opposite of what Lambert seeks to prove: Of the 79 successful resolutions, wealthy Athenians can be shown to have submitted at least two-thirds.60 The remaining applicants may even have come from the liturgical stratum as well. 3. Inscriptions only tell who successfully carried a motion in the assembly. But not every decision was considered worthy of an inscription and not every speech resulted in a psephisma or a nomos. Moreover, it remains unknown how controversial the matter was discussed before a decision was reached. The order of the speakers also played a role and the possibility of making the right arguments at the decisive moment according to the general mood. Political influence can therefore only be estimated in tendency from the successful motions. This is all the more true since there is much to be said for, but nothing against, the fact that only competent and rhetorically skilled Athenians spoke out on fundamental decisions of direction and formulated the political options. For since the introduction of the graphe paranomon or the graphe nomon me epitedeion theinai it had become more dangerous to make motions of wide scope and to be prosecuted for the consequences of public action. Speakers could only expose ­themselves to this risk if they were well prepared. And it is precisely this circumstance that is reflected in the epigraphic findings: almost all foreign policy and religious decisions were prepared by liturgists.61 This does not mean, for example, that honoring citizens was insignificant – otherwise honors would not have been recorded in inscriptions; it simply means that on certain issues that were fundamental to Athenian identity and that required expert advice, the ekklesia was dominated in by far the majority of cases – between 75 and 86 percent – by opinion leaders who were demonstrably wealthy. But here, too, nothing can be said about the socio-economic status of the remaining 14–25 percent; based on the general trend, it can nevertheless be assumed that one or the other Athenian with above-average economic resources was also among them.  So auch Taylor (2007a) 88: “However, it is impossible to focus directly on non-wealthy citizens due to the lack of positive evidence for this group: presence of wealth is demonstrable, if dependent on the survival of source material, but absence of wealth is impossible to demonstrate prosopographically. The surviving documentation of liturgy-payers is simply not sufficiently comprehensive to enable us to claim that if there is no positive evidence for a citizens’s being a liturgist, he is not a liturgist.” 59  See Sect. 4.2.2 above. 60  Cf. Table 5.1 in Lambert (2018a) 190. 61  Cf. Table 2 in Lambert (2018a) 192: persons in Group A and B1 successfully submitted the following motions: honors to deities: 100 per cent; honors to strangers: 78 per cent; religious matters (including four laws!): 86 per cent; treaties with foreign powers: 75 per cent. 58

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious…

241

4. But even if now and then a less educated Athenian living on the edge of the subsistence level made a speech on a fundamental issue and introduced a successful motion, this does not change the fact that the small group of liturgists is disproportionately represented. If one assumes that the approximately 1200 people who were eligible for liturgy made up about five percent of the citizenry, then their dominance becomes particularly clear – not least because some liturgists had no interest whatsoever in becoming actively involved in politics. In summary, then, the prosopographic evaluation of the psephismata and nomoi does not demonstrate that individuals with political influence came from across the socio-economic spectrum of the citizenry. Rather, the findings show the opposite, namely how much political success depended on the wealth of the proposer. This result diametrically contradicts the thesis of Taylor, who also approached the Athenian inscriptions prosopographically in two papers.62 In doing so, she came to the assumption that, compared to the fifth century, political participation in the fourth century would have been less dependent on the distance to the asty and on economic status; compared to the sub-elite, the political participation of the liturgists would have decreased. The participation of broad strata – regardless of their place of residence – would thus have intensified in the fourth century. Strong objections can also be raised against this assumption: 1. Place of residence and demotic must not be equated, since prosopographic analysis cannot distinguish between permanent or temporary migration within Attica.63 Accordingly, the demotics – and thus the distance that an epigraphically attested person traveled to participate in politics and administration – cannot be statistically evaluated. In the case of wealthy Athenians, demotic and actual residence largely did not coincide, as those who could afford it owned property in both the asty and the chora. Moreover, affiliation to a demos was hereditary. Athenian inheritance practices, however, encouraged the buying and selling of property, so that in the long run the location of property no longer corresponded with affiliation to a demos.64 In the process, the Peloponnesian War accelerated

 Taylor (2007a) and (2007b). Both essays address the same question on the basis of the same source material. 63  It is precisely this observation that Taylor (2007b) 320 makes in order to refute the assumption that the specification of the demos of a person appearing in an inscription found in the city of Athens would indicate the permanent migration of this person. In doing so, she seeks to prove that a large number of citizens commuted regularly to Athens for their political activities. In doing so, she overlooks the fact that this argument can be turned against her own thesis: The mentioning of the demos says nothing about the duration of migration and therefore does not allow any conclusions to be drawn about how many city dwellers or chora residents were involved in day-to-day political activity. 64  In Athens, gavelkind was practiced, whereby the father retired to an estate. Normally, it was not a single plot of land that was divided, but rather the property was divided according to value. But this meant that if there were two adult sons, when property was inherited and assigned, often one no longer resided in the demos in whose citizen list he was registered. 62

242

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

this development, as the citizenry was severely decimated. Entire families were wiped out and land ownership passed into the hands of new owners. The shift of economic opportunity from agriculture to crafts and trade did the rest. The margin of error in identifying the place of residence on the basis of the demotic is therefore far too high to make reliable statements about the relation of participation and distance to the urban centre. 2. Taylor does not distinguish between the different activities. However, it makes a very big difference whether one tried to gain political influence as a member of the boule, dikast, proposer of decrees or laws, strategos, tamias, archon, phylarch or hipparch. This coincides with another methodological problem; the source material is unrepresentative in two respects: for example, Pericles is attested only once each as a strategos and as a proposer,65 which does not correspond to his actual political activity – and even less to his political influence. At the same time, bouleutai are particularly well attested in the fourth century.66 Thus the activity in the boule distorts the picture: We simply know more council members than other politically active people. A statistical evaluation that does not differentiate by function is useless. 3. Only liturgists appear as such in the material. But this does not mean that those of whom we do not know that they were liturgists did not have a corresponding economic status.67 All we can say, then, is that liturgists were disproportionately active in the various bodies in comparison with their proportion in the population68; but it is inadmissible to conclude that the rest of those attested, of whom nothing further is known, were of the sub-elite. Accordingly, it is not convincing that the percentage of politically active liturgists decreased from the fifth to the fourth century, although we know more liturgists in the fourth century. For we do not know who is behind the rest. In general, this only means that we have to assume a differentiated economic elite: some of them being politically active and others were not.69 It can thus be stated: Contrary to the statements of Lambert and Taylor, the epigraphic findings testify to a shrinking socio-economic elite in relation to the total population, which dominated the opinion-forming of the ekklesia in fundamental questions. At the same time, the politically active were partly linked by family ties – an indication that the socio-economic and political elite was reproducing itself and a process of social closure was underway. The tendency intensified in the fourth century, as the liturgical system based on reciprocity was only now fully formed, the  Taylor (2007b) 316.  Taylor (2007b) 314: “For example, nearly two-thirds of councillors (bouleutai)  – the largest single group of office holders represented by the data – are recorded from the second half of the fourth century, compared with only 4% from the fifth century.” 67  Taylor (2007a) 88–89 even notes this herself. 68  So also Taylor (2007a) 89. 69  Thus already Nippel (1980) 112. 65 66

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious…

243

liturgical stratum developed a status-specific mentality, and liturgies could serve as an indicatorof leadership. Significant examples are the two financial experts Agyrrhius and his nephew Callistratus70 as well as the brothers of Aeschines: Aphobetos and Philochares assumed the highest positions both in the military field and in the administration of public finances.71 The designated rhetors thus had a precise knowledge of the specific expenditure and revenue structure of Athens, an economic expertise; they were available and could therefore devote themselves exclusively to politics; they combined political skill with rhetorical ability and expertise. Thus, a gap opened up between the elite of competence and ordinary citizens; in the fourth century, domestic and foreign policy were specialized fields in which only experts could subsist. This phenomenon had always been inherent in Athenian democracy, but it reached a new quality through financial development and economic reflection. In this process, participantss to the assembly opted for proposals from those persons whom they considered competent and who could most convincingly convey to them that their advice was oriented toward the common good. Liturgies indicated moral integrity, commitment to the polis, patriotism, and a sense of responsibility. In this way, liturgies created the basis for trust, which, in combination with financial expertise, also conferred authority and, ultimately, power. The connection between trust, power and decisions to act in a political context has been impressively elaborated by Timmer.72 In the present context, his remarks on trust in democratic Athens are less relevant, since he is primarily concerned with the legitimacy of collectively binding majority decisions.73 Two fundamental ­observations are significant, as they form the premises why trust could become politically effective: Athenian society was “ideologically cold” in the fourth century: there were no more attempts at subversion – neither on the part of wealthy Athenians to establish an oligarchy, nor attempts at expropriation on the part of the dispossessed. Accordingly, a certain basic political consensus prevailed. This was the prerequisite for the growth of trust within society.74 At the same time, and this is the second premise, it does not mean that no particular interests existed. Rather, people were aware of the value of the common good despite individual interests. And this common good interest was the result of a process of will formation.75  See on both above note 39.  Aphobetus was hypogrammateus, grammateus and in the 340s commissioner of the theoric fund. He also acted several times as envoy (Demosth. or. 19,124; 237; 249. Aeschin. 2,94 and 149). PA 2775. – Philochares was elected strategos for three successive years (Aeschin. 2,149). PA 14775. – The example is significant also because we know both of them only from the dispute between Demosthenes and Aeschines; they themselves have left no trace in literary or epigraphic tradition. It may therefore also be due to the coincidence of tradition that no liturgy are known of Eubulus. Nor have any survived from Aphobetus and Philochares, although they, like Aeschines, certainly belonged to the liturgical stratum. 72  Timmer (2016), (2017a) and (2017b). 73  Timmer (2016). 74  Ibid. 46 with reference to Offe (1999). 75  Ibid. 47. 70 71

244

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

Ideological coldness and orientation towards the common good thus formed the preconditions for the growing importance of trust in the political context. Trust reduces the complex reality with its almost infinite possibilities for action and thus curbs the uncertainty about future behavior: The trustgiver pretends that the trusttaker will act in the interest of the trustgiver and that he has only the option to cooperate76; he thus gives him a leap of faith. The relying party trusts without being sufficiently informed.77 However, he does not do this purely arbitrarily, but because he relies on other trust-building factors. These include a repertoire of shared values and norms and observation of behavior in other contexts.78 Signs that are particularly suitable are those that are difficult to imitate, especially if they involve high costs.79 In this context, liturgies paid off as indicators of integrity, common good orientation and leadership qualities. As socially visible actions, they conveyed that on other occasions the leader had also behaved reliably and in accordance with the common set of values. Due to their high cost, these indicators could also not be easily imitated. Education and expertise must now be added to this; they too cost time and money, could not be imitated and were therefore reliable signals. In this way, the trust-giver had objectifiable criteria for placing trust in certain individuals. He could also trust for the future that the trusted party was generally trustworthy. And this is precisely the crux of the matter: trust forms a basis for power.80 For generalised trust  – when the foundations of trustworthiness are no longer questioned even in concrete individual cases – leads to authority and thus to power.81 This form of power can fit into democratic institutions primarily because it leaves the trustgiver both his freedom of decision and his participation in political processes. And this must be combined with appropriate manners so that the individual can feel respected and proud to belong to a respected status group. This in turn affects positively perceived identity and the will to accept authority.82 Power had to be embedded factually, in memory, and socially: by referring to the special responsibility for the common good, to the exemplary past lived by the rhetor and to one’s own expertise.83 Against this background, the power-political dimension of trust, which grew out of the combination of leadership and expertise, becomes clear. Economic literature therefore explicitly attributes political leadership qualities  – kalokagathia  – to financial experts.84 The few rhetors with expertise in financial topics therefore functioned as opinion leaders and played the decisive role in formulating decisions for  Timmer (2017b) 82.  Ibid. 82. 78  Ibid. 83. 79  Timmer (2017a) 137. 80  Ibid. 89–100. 81  Ibid. 89. 82  Ibid, with reference to Tyler (2001) 290–292 and 301. 83  Ibid. 90–91 with reference to Baecker (2009) 37 and 42–43. 84  Kallet-Marx (1994). 76 77

5.1 Demosthenes’ Second Speech to the Assembly or: How Does an Ambitious…

245

action and their alternatives85; they effectively dominated the ekklesia.86 At the same time, given the complexity of public tasks, there was an increasing willingness87 to use experienced specialists to make better use of the available expertise.88 The result was that a relatively small group of experts with knowledge of foreign and financial policy, who were obliged to liturgy, gained the sovereignty of discourse and defined what was useful for the general public; the common good was increasingly what a few understood by it. The epigraphic findings also point in this direction. Thus Oliver was able to show that in the years between 322/1 and 319/8 the majority of the assembly decisions were passed contrary to the probouleumata of the council.89 This continued a development that had been announced from the middle of the century: the assembly largely rejected the proposals of the boule; only on less serious issues such as the conferring of honors did the ekklesia follow the advice of the 500.90 Accordingly, from the middle of the fourth century onwards the opinion-making in the assembly increased in comparison with the preliminary deliberative function of the boule – after all, the psephismata and nomoi depended on the recommendations of the influential rhetors, while in the council the “average” Athenian pre-discussed. At the same time, from the middle of the fourth century onwards, the assembly tended to pass resolutions almost unanimously, even by secret ballot, and consequently largely by consensus.91 Obviously, even more than in the fifth century, the assembly participants followed the proposals of the few outstanding speakers in order to establish the unity that was valued as a political virtue.92 This development towards a consensus-based consent democracy received a decisive impetus from the professionalization of the offices associated with competences after the Social War.93

 So already Perlmann (1963) and (1967). de Laix (1973) 185–192.  Demosth. or. 3,30–31. 87  Ober (2016) 354. 88  Ibid. 332. 89  Oliver (2003). 90  Lambert (2018b). 91  Canevaro (2018a), who, however, is methodologically incautious: He goes through the inscriptional voting results from the Greek world and comes to the conclusion that votes were usually unanimous or nearly so. Unfortunately, however, he does not take into account that such voting results were intended to document precisely the consensus within the community and that they date primarily from the Hellenistic period. Categorical conclusions about the Classical period, however, are not legitimate; here it is necessary to differentiate chronologically. 92  An example of how the orators invoked the consensus of the citizenry is offered by Demosthenes (or. 14,15): “For you will notice, men of Athens, that whenever you have collectively formed some project [...] nothing has ever escaped your grasp;” 93  Isocr. or. 8,54–55. Aristot. pol. 1305 a 7–8. Plut. Phocion 7. 85 86

246

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

5.2 Turning Much into More by Turning Many into Few: The Commissioner of the Theoric Fund The Social War presented the Athenians with the urgent task of reorganizing the public finances. In this situation, Eubulus was able to convince the Athenians of a comprehensive program. His consolidation strategy rested on four pillars: First, the politician (perhaps) friendly with Xenophon initiated a military paradigm shift and advocated a moderately defensive foreign policy.94 He discouraged warlike ventures unless Athens’ interests were directly threatened.95 Second, he encouraged major

 Thus Xenophon’s remarks in his Poroi seem to put the Eubulean political direction succinctly into words. Cf. for example Xen. vect. 5,2–4 and 11–12: “(2) If any are inclined to think that a lasting peace for our city will involve a loss of her power and glory and fame in Greece, they too, in my opinion, are out in their calculations. For I presume that those states are reckoned the happiest that enjoy the longest period of unbroken peace; and of all states Athens is by nature most suited to flourish in peace. (3) For if the state is tranquil, what class of men will not need her? Shipowners and merchants will head the list. Then there will be those rich in corn and wine and oil and cattle; men possessed of brains and money to invest; craftsmen and professors and (4) philosophers; poets and the people who make use of their works; those to whom anything sacred or secular appeals that is worth seeing or hearing. Besides, where will those who want to buy or sell many things quickly meet with better success in their efforts than at Athens? […] (11) If, on the other hand, any one supposes that financially war is more profitable to the state than peace, I really do not know how the truth of this can be tested better than by considering once more what has been the experience of our state in the past. (12) He will find that in old days a very great amount of money was paid into the treasury in time of peace, and that the whole of it was spent in time of war; he will conclude on consideration that in our own time the effect of the late war on our revenues was that many of them ceased, while those that came in were exhausted by the multitude of expenses.” – In the end, it is irrelevant – and irresolvable – whether Xenophon was picking up on a thought that was wafting in the political realm or was concretely influencing politics. On this, see also Gauthier (1976) 223–231. On the interplay between Eubulus’ reforms and Xenophon’s proposals, see Günther (2016b). – It fits with this that a certain Eubulus applied for permission for Xenophon to return (Istros FGrH 334 F 32). On this, see Dillery (1993) 1–2. Papazarkadas (2011) 65–66 note 216. 95  The abandonment of an imperial objective was also widespread among Athenian intellectuals. Like Isocrates, who in his speech On the Peace (or. 8,19–21) advocated the abandonment of imperial ambitions by pointing to the positive consequences for trade and savings, Xenophon in the Poroi linked renunciation of warlike offensives with economic advantages. His aim was to use the natural conditions of Attica to successively provide the Athenians with a daily income of three obols (1,1; 4,13–17; 4,33; 4,49; 5,1), to make the polis as a whole better (4,51–52) and to guarantee a peaceful coexistence with other poleis – with the vision of an Athenian hegemony (1,1; 5). At the same time, he gave a clear rejection to any euphoria about war (5). While war only costs, reduces revenue and ties up expenditure (5,11–12), peace means eudaimonia (5,2) and ensures that investments pay off (5,1), the general prosperity of all is preserved (5,3–4), and the revenue at the free disposal of the citizens increases (5,12).  – On the question of whether these three obols were intended to remunerate political activities – three obols was the regular rate of public pay (μισθός) – see Schütrumpf (1987) 30–45 and (1995) 293–300, who denies this contra Gauthier (1984a). The choice of words speaks for itself: at no point is salary (μισθός) mentioned, but Xenophon uses τροφή (and derived terms) throughout. 94

5.2 Turning Much into More by Turning Many into Few: The Commissioner…

247

rebuilding measures that would promote the economy; for example, the theater and the meeting place of the assembly were given a monumental appearance. Thirdly, as a civil counterpart to the stratiotika, he created the theoric fund, whose commissioner, fourthly, was given the central supervisory function over public finances. The theorika, like the war-money and the superintendence of the wells,96 were at first placed under the control of an individual (ὁ ἐπὶ τὸ θεωρικόν).97 The term of office lasted four years and extended from the Great Panathenaea to the next.98 Election as a selection mechanism illustrates the importance of the commissioner of the theoric fund.99 His field of work was broad: He supervised transactions together with the council, oversaw the leasing of mines and the financing of building projects and shipbuilding as a higher authority, and was therefore involved in all operations that had to do with public finance.100 Thus, the commissioner of the theoric fund drew to himself various supervisory functions: those of counterscribe, receiver,

 [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43,1.  Rhodes (1972) 235 based on IG II2 223 C l. 5–6 (from 343/2). Contra Cawkwell (1963) 47 with note 4. De Ste. Croix (1964) 191. Buchanan (1962) 57–60. – See on the commisioners of the theorikon fund generally Rhodes (1972) 235–240. 98  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43,1. The phrase “from the Panathenaea to the Panathenaea” in the Athenaion politeia always refers to the Great Panathenaea, according to Develin (1984). A four-year term is also assumed by Mitchell (1962) 220–221. Hansen (1995) 273. Leppin (1995) 559. By contrast, see Cawkwell (1963) 54, Rhodes (1972) 235–237, (1985a) 517, (2016) 115, and Bleicken (1995) 303, who assume a one-year term. 99  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43,1 and 47,2. All the officers of the civil administration were drawn by lot, while all the magistrates entrusted with military duties were elected. There were only three exceptions to this rule: the treasurer (tamias) of the military fund, the overseer of the wells, and precisely the commissioner of the theoric fund. 100  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 47,2. Aeschin. 3,25. Schol. Aeschin. 3,25. Schol. Demosth. or. 1,1. Harpocr. s. v. θεωρικά . Suda s. v. θεωρικά. Schol. Demosth. or. 3,11. IG II/III2 I 1, 223 C 5. Cf. also Demosth. or. 3,29 and 13,30. Dein. 1.96. Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 56a. – The polis auctioned the building contracts and awarded them in the presence of dicasts who confirmed and witnessed the contracts (IG II2 1669 l. 8–9. 1670 l. 35). It is known from a procurement ordinance of the late fourth century that the contractors received their wages pro rata in advance (IG II/III2 1678  l. 21–23). This procedure is also known from Epidaurus, Tegea and Delos, according to Prignitz (2014) 174. The polis took precautions by requiring a guarantor from the contractor for every 1000 drachmas of wages (IG II/III2 1678 l. 17–18). In this context, higher-value work was better remunerated than the elaboration of simple building elements. Wesenberg (1985) on the Erechtheion accounts. This corresponds to the findings from Epidaurus. Prignitz (2014) 177. 96 97

248

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

overseer of the shipyards as well as naval arsenals, and road construction101; he thus oversaw “almost the whole administration of the state”.102 Since he was present at all financial decisions and transactions, he was able to gain insight into the financial-­ political processes, to survey the complex operations in the long term, and to acquire knowledge that had previously been a monopoly of the boule.103 In this way, he accumulated skills and – favoured by the possibility of iteration and the four-year term of office – knowledge from experience. Accordingly, the commissioner of the theoric fund was exempt from four maxims that were normally intended to prevent a concentration of power among officials104: The highest financial official was exempted from the principle of annuity and could be re-elected without limit.105 Similarly, the principles of collegiality, the drawing of lots, and the prohibition of the accumulation of offices were abandoned.106 Whereas democratic offices were characterized by large numbers, the lot as a selection mechanism, a purely administrative activity, a constant rotation and low prominence of the individual  – and therefore by a “Vermassung der Behörden”107  – the commissioner of the theoric fund represented exactly the  Aeschin. 3,25: πρότερον μὲν τοίνυν, ὦ ἄνδρες Ἀθηναῖοι, ἀντιγραφεὺς ἦν χειροτονητὸς τῇ πόλει, ὃς καθ᾽ ἑκάστην πρυτανείαν ἀπελογίζετο τὰς προσόδους τῷ δήμῳ: διὰ δὲ τὴν πρὸς Εὔβουλον γενομένην πίστιν ὑμῖν οἱ ἐπὶ τὸ θεωρικὸν κεχειροτονημένοι ἦρχον μέν, πρὶν ἢ τὸν Ἡγήμονος νόμον γενέσθαι, τὴν τοῦ ἀντιγραφέως ἀρχήν, ἦρχον δὲ τὴν τῶν ἀποδεκτῶν, καὶ νεωρίων ἦρχον, καὶ σκευοθήκην ᾠκοδόμουν, ἦσαν δὲ καὶ ὁδοποιοί, καὶ σχεδὸν τὴν ὅλην διοίκησιν εἶχον τῆς πόλεως. “In earlier times, fellow citizens, the city used to elect a controller of the treasury, who every prytany made to the people a report of the revenues. But because of the trust which you placed in Eubulus, those who were elected commissioners of the theoric fund held (until the law of Hegemon was passed) the office of controller of the treasury and the office of receiver of moneys; they also controlled the dockyards, had charge of the naval arsenal that was building, and were superintendents of streets; almost the whole administration of the state was in their hands.” The account of Aeschines is not to be taken literally: It comes from the context of the trial On the Crown and serves to maximize the importance of Demosthenes’ administrative position in order to establish his accountability. What is meant is that the respective commissioners of the theorika, like the officials mentioned, were involved in the administrative processes, but did not replace them. 102  Aeschin. 3,25: σχεδὸν τὴν ὅλην διοίκησιν εἶχον τῆς πόλεως. 103  Rhodes (1972) 105: “Only the boule had access to the information which would show whether the city could afford some new charge on its resources, and this must habe been the reason for the boule’s financial predominance.” 104  On the principles, see Bleicken (1995) 274 and 276–277. 105  The prohibition of iteration is mentioned in the heliastic oath (Demosth. or. 24,150): οὐδ᾽ ἀρχὴν καταστήσω ὥστ᾽ [...] δὶς τὴν αὐτὴν ἀρχὴν τὸν αὐτὸν ἄνδρα. “I will not confirm the appointment to any office of any person [...] to hold the same office twice.” See also the next note. 106  Demosthenes, for example, was both superintendent of the theorikon fund and teichopoios in 336 (Demosth. or. 18,113). The prohibition against the accumulation of offices was expressly included in the heliastic oath (Demosth. or. 24,150): οὐδ᾽ ἀρχὴν καταστήσω ὥστ᾽ [...] δύο ἀρχὰς ἄρξαι τὸν αὐτὸν ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ ἐνιαυτῷ. “I will not confirm the appointment to any office of any person [...] to hold […] two offices in the same year.” This provision is not altered by the fact that the heliastic  oath handed down by Demosthenes is only a paraphrase, as Mirhady (2007) has demonstrated. 107  Bleicken (1995) 281–284 and 362–363. 101

5.2 Turning Much into More by Turning Many into Few: The Commissioner…

249

opposite; he undermined democratic principles108: The epi to theorikon was an individual determined by election, with great influence, high qualifications, and long tenure. Even if some of the individual ingredients  – election, prominence of the individual, iteration – were also known from the strategos, the undermining of the principles fundamental to democracy in this accumulation was novel. And the accumulation of offices was completely unprecedented.109 Since the commissioner of the theorika had no decision-making or directive powers, he seemed formally integrable into the democratic order. Those entrusted with the theoric fund neither dictated measures nor held a right of veto over other officials. De iure they exercised no power, but only a supervisory function; final decisions were made by the assembly or the council. In praxi, however, they claimed an extraordinary authority that not only predestined them for advisory functions, but also enabled them to direct decisions of the ekklesia and the council. The validity and influence of the commissioner of the theoric fund was therefore not based on formal official power, but on professional competence, experience, and personal prestige. After the defeat of Chaeronea, the individual office was transformed into a commission and re-election was forbidden.110 This, however, was not a return to old principles, but a consistent development of the previous line. Lycurgus established a new office, also of four years’ duration (ταμίας ἐπὶ τὴν διοίκησιν or ἐπὶ τῇ διοικήσει τῆς πόλεως).111 Henceforth the distribution of public money was in the hands of the newly created administrative office; hence we hear no more of a merismos drawn up in council with the participation of the receivers.112 Lycurgus therefore not only influenced the opinion-forming process by virtue of his informal

 Cf. Weber (1922a) 139, although he did not have Athenian democracy in mind: “Dies ist am meisten bei der sog. ‚unmittelbar demokratischen Verwaltung‘ der Fall.‚Demokratisch‘ heißt sie aus zwei nicht notwendig zusammenfallenden Gründen, nämlich 1. weil sie auf der Voraussetzung prinzipiell gleicher Qualifikationen Aller zur Führung der gemeinsamen Geschäfte beruht, 2. weil sie den Umfang der Befehlsgewalt minimisiert. Die Verwaltungsfunktionen werden entweder einfach im Turnus übernommen oder durch das Los oder durch direkte Wahl auf kurze Amtsfristen übertragen, alle oder doch alle wichtigen materiellen Entscheidungen dem Beschluß der Genossen vorbehalten, den Funktionären nur Vorbereitung und Ausführung der Beschlüsse und die sog.‚ laufende Geschäftsführung‘ gemäß den Anordnungen der Genossenversammlung überlassen.” 109  Even if the ten teichopoioi were elected by their phyle, the office of commissioner for the repair of the walls constituted a public office at the polis level, since its holders received centrally provided funds for their task. Demosthenes (or. 18,113), for example, also does not deny that he was accountable to the demos both as commissioner of the theoric fund and as teichopoios – but not for his donation, for which he was to be honored. 110  Law of Hegemon: Aeschin. 3,25. – Commission (οἱ ἐπὶ τὸ θεωρικόν): [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43,1. – Connection with the law to Lycurgus: Mitchell (1962) 225 note 37. Humphreys (1985) 202. 111  Hyp. Frg. 118. [Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus 841 b–c and 852 b–c. For the title, see IG II2 463 l. 36 (307/6). SEG 19,119 l. 7–9 (between 334 and 336). On Lycurgus in general, see [Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus 841a–844a. Colin (1928). Burke (1985). Mossé (1989). Engels (1992b). Faraguna (1992) 195–399. Habicht (1995a) 33–41. Wirth (1997). Bringmann (1999). 112  Rhodes (1972) 220. On merismos see also above Sect. 2.2.1 note 197. 108

250

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

prestige, but could now also direct the financial fortunes of the polis with official authority. Both Eubulus and Lycurgus dominated the discussion to such an extent that they were able to push through previously unthinkable measures: Eubulus advocated a renunciation of imperial aspirations, created the central theorikon fund into which all surpluses flowed, and created a new office with unprecedented powers. Lycurgus’ name is associated with a large number of unusual initiatives, each of which attracted little attention but which, taken together, show the financial expertise with which he broke new ground. Two examples can be cited here. A completely unique process dates to the years between 340 and 325: the privatization of public land, which is documented in the so-called rationes centesimarum.113 For this purpose, all collectives that owned public land (demes, komai, phratries, religious groups) were called upon to nominate unused plots for sale.114 The logistical and technical effort required to identify, register, and auction several hundred plots of land alone must have been extraordinary115; however, it was worthwhile: in total, the proceeds added up to 300 talents.116 The measure was so exceptional because normally public property was not sold, but only leased.117 In addition, it requires a high level of economic reflection when a large effort is made to maximize profits.118 In addition, Lycurgus developed a new form of revenue generation by acting like a public banker: thus, his ancient biographer reports that private individuals had left him 250 talents as deposits for public purposes119; the Stratocles Decree speaks of an additional 650 talents.120 The money thus acquired he in turn lent at interest.121 The proceeds were treated as additional income and surplus, and were formed into

 On the rationes centesimarum, see generally D. M. Lewis (1973). R. Osborne (1985) 56–59. Faraguna (1992) 328–336. Rosivach (1992). Lambert (1997). Horster (2004) 156–159. Migeotte (2014b) 292–293. On the question of whether sale or lease, Lambert (1997) 257–263. Horster (2004) 157–158. On dating to approx. 340–325 (stelai 1 and 2) or approx. 330–325 (stelai 3 and 4) Lambert (1997) 3. 114  This could be land that was neglected, for which no owner was known, or which was inconveniently located in frontier or high-altitude (ἐσχατιά) regions. Lambert (1997) 239–240. 115  A total of sixteen fragments, for which Lambert reconstructs four stelai, came to light on the Acropolis and attest an astonishing total number of sales. Lambert (1997) 24 reckons with 364 to 598 property sales. 116  Lambert (1997) 260. 117  Lambert (1997) 260. 118  This was also a novelty. Normally, one preferred small and safe profits to the capital investment to achieve even greater proceeds. 119  Plut. mor. 841c. 120  Plut. mor. 852 b. It can be assumed that both passages (Plut. mor. 841c and 852 b) refer to different processes. 121  This represents the probable meaning of προδανείσας. See Whitehead (2000) 400–402. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 413 with note 134. 113

5.2 Turning Much into More by Turning Many into Few: The Commissioner…

251

paraphernalia in the traditional manner and stored on the Acropolis.122 As collateral he could put his personal and public status on the line. The Athenians approved of these innovations because the measures responded to financial or foreign policy crises and consolidated public finances in the long term. Eubulus and Lycurgus were able to remedy the financial misery by systematizing finances and centralizing powers. Only experience of how resource flows behaved over time allowed informed directional decisions to be made and, in turn, reinforced the knowledge advantage of the experts. In this way, a major shortcoming of democracy could not be eliminated, but it could be contained: the inertia of the system. Athens had previously had a large number of financial magistrates, but these did not form a planned administration; instead, they were independent colleges entrusted with manageable tasks. The fragmentation prevented, on the one hand, an overview of revenues and expenditures and, on the other, a medium- and long-term conception of the financial structure. This was all the more detrimental to a smooth organization because, for example, the leasing of public property usually took place over several years. In contrast, monarchies such as Syracuse and Macedonia were able to effectively face pressing problems without institutional controls and to adapt relatively easily to the development towards expertise in war, finance and politics.123 Success therefore proved the Athenian experts right: in the summer of 341 Demosthenes demonstrated to the assembly how the revenues had increased from 130 to 400 talents.124 Lycurgus is said to have increased the revenue of the polis to about 1200 to 1500 talents annually, thus roughly tripling it.125 Accordingly, the polis was able to dispose of an amount that exceeded the annual tribute of the Delian League by about two and a half times.126 The educated and informed spokesmen had achieved that the polis was financially better off than ever before. This also benefited the individual citizen. The theorika was seen as support for the poorer Athenians; the “basic social security” encouraged the willingness of less well-off Athenians to take greater economic risks.127 At the same time, the large construction projects boosted the local economy.128 In the Lycurgian era, some

122  This is supported by the use of the verb προδανείζειν in IG II2 445. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 413 with note 135. 123  On Dionysius and Philip II, see summarily Schulz (2010) 232–233 and 238. 124  Demosth. 10,37–38. Cf. Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 166. 125  [Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus 842  f. Burke (1985) 251 note 5. W.  Will (1983) 78 with note 166. Migeotte (2014a) 435. – In all, he allegedly provided the polis with the prodigious sum of 18,900 talents. [Plut.] X orat. Lycurgus 852 b. W. Will (1983) 78–79. – In this context, inflation from the fifth to the fourth century seems to be partly responsible for this large amount, although the extent of the devaluation is difficult to estimate. On this point, see Gallo (1987). Loomis (1998) 240–250. 126  Habicht (1995a) 34. 127  Ober (2016) 172–174 and 355. 128  The insight that such projects would provide work and prosperity for a large number of craftsmen may have played a role. Since the tyrannies of the sixth century, Athens always pursued a public building program that put many inhabitants to work.

252

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

750–1000 talents may have flowed into the private sector.129 Modern estimates suggest a very high level of wealth compared to other pre-modern societies: By the 330s, Athens – much like fifteenth-century Holland or sixteenth-century England – achieved a gross domestic product per capita of about four to five times the minimum subsistence level,130 while about twice the minimum subsistence level has been estimated for other ancient and medieval societies.131 There were apparently only winners, but no losers. The same is true of the tendency for elected magistrates to contribute money out of their own pockets. Here, too, the benefits for the general public were estimated to be greater than the negative consequences for the political equality of all citizens.

5.3 A Changed Understanding of Offices: The Liturgization of Offices From time immemorial, wealthy Athenians and metics occasionally made donations in kind and money.132 But since the middle of the fourth century the donations gained financial importance. In the process, they were further developed by combining the basic principles of liturgy (voluntariness, social pressure and gratitude by the community with the basic principle of eisphora (monetary character). At the same time, donations were institutionalized as epidoseis133: Prytaneis, in assembly, asked

 Burke (1985) 254–255. See on building activity under Lycurgus W.  Will (1983) 77–100. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) esp. 105–140. 130  Scheidel (2017) 84–85. See also the isotopic analysis of Lagia (2015), which made it clear that there were no dietary differences between the elite and the subelite in the Classical period. 131  Scheidel (2010). 132  Lys. or. 19,21–22. In the same way Apollodorus ([Demosth.] or. 45,85) speaks of his father’s donations: Pasion had given 1000 shields to the polis and as a trierarch had taken over the maintenance of the ship’s crew, which he was not formally obliged to do. On the metic as benefactor of Athens in Classical and Hellenistic times see Adak (2003). 133  On the epidoseis, see Kuenzi (1923). Migeotte (1982) and (1983). Gabrielsen (1994) 199–206. Ellis-Evans (2013). – We know the functioning of an epidosis only for the second half of the third century (IG II2 791 from 231); however, it can easily be applied to the fourth century as well. 129

5.3 A Changed Understanding of Offices: The Liturgization of Offices

253

citizens to contribute to the alleviation of (usually military or supply) hardship.134 The amounts were to be within certain minimum and maximum limits. Those who pledged epidoseis received a crown as a gift of honor.135 On the other hand, those who did not fulfil their promise of money were recorded by name on boards which were publicly displayed at the Monument of the Eponymous Heroes with a diminishing remark; the names were not erased until the donor had paid his epidosis.136 The amounts were thus comparable with each other, and could be judged by the community as to their amount.137 This procedure thus went beyond the liturgies in that it increased social pressure: the epidoseis were demanded in the assembly, the pledge was publicly documented, and failure to perform was sanctioned with an honor-reducing penalty with public effect. The willingness to promise epidoseis was certainly also determined by unconscious factors. The study by a group of researchers based at Harvard University points in this direction. The group examined the question of whether people  Demosthenes (or. 21,161) attests the first epidosis for military operations in the middle of the fourth century. In 348, when Athens was both pressed on Euboea and at the same time wanted to depose Olynthus, a call went out for volunteers to contribute to the cost of war. There had been similar appeals before, cf. Is. 5.37. But now the epidoseis emerged as a specific form of financing.  – The epidoseis established themselves especially in the context of grain supply. For this purpose they were separated from the other revenues and declared to be ta sitonika (IG II2 499. 1628. 1629. 1631). There were three variants of epidoseis in the context of grain supply: either one gave money to buy grain, donated grain oneself, or sold it at a discounted price. The latter was probably the most common method. For example, a certain Heraclides sold wheat below market value on several occasions, in this case at five drachmas per medimnos, and was honored with an inscription as a result (IG II2 360 from 324). On this see Pazdera (2006) 175–177.  – In the Hellenistic period, it was then customary to finance the state purchase of grain (sitonia) by means of epidoseis. The first sitonia, however, is attested already for the year 338 (Demosth. or. 18,248. [Plut.] X orat. Demosthenes = mor. 851 b). It fits in with this that the first honor of a foreign merchant for a contribution to an Athenian epidosis (probably) dates from 337 (IG II2 283). From the 320s onwards, when supplies of the staple food became difficult throughout Greece, the sitoniai were also reflected in epigraphic evidence (IG II2 1628 from 326/5. IG II2 1629 from 325/4. IG II2 360 from 324. IG II2 363 from 323. IG II2 1631 from 323/2). The shortage of grain in the 320s is shown by the fact that Cyrene supplied grain to quite a number of Greek poleis in the early 320s, Athens receiving the most, 100,000 medimnoi (SEG 9,2 = Tod (1968) II no. 196 = HGIÜ 270). On this inscription, see Pazdera (2006) 142–159 and 261–262. Bresson (2011). Harpalus also sent a large quantity of grain to the Athenians in the early 320s (Athen. deipn. 13,586d. 595d-596b. Diod. 17,108,6). In most cases, various voluntary and involuntary measures interlocked to alleviate grain shortages and to absorb the accompanying high prices: At times money was distributed (Theophr. char. 23,5) so that poorer citizens could afford the staple. In other cases the grain was given out directly. Cf. for example [Demosth.] or. 34,37–39, where for the year 328/7 it is described how barley flour was distributed in the Odeion. Each was to receive a twelfth of a medimnos. Dramatic scenes took place as people were trampled. A special solution was sought at Clazomenae. There, around 360, a compulsory loan was levied on oil. The money collected in this way was used to buy grain. [Aristot.] oec. II 16 a (1348 b 17). 135  IG II2 791. 136  Is. 5,38. The list was headed οἵδε εἰς σωτηρίαν τῆς πόλεως ὑποσχόμενοι τῷ δήμῳ εἰσοίσειν χρήματα ἐθελονταὶ οὐκ εἰσήνεγκαν (“These are they who voluntarily promised the people to contribute money for the salvation of the city and failed to pay the amounts promised”). 137  Is. 5,37. 134

254

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

cooperate intuitively and only act selfishly by weighing up the medium-term and long-term consequences. In various experimental constellations of the prisoner’s dilemma type,138 it was shown that test persons acted most prosocially the faster they made their decisions. Accordingly, actors intuitively tend to act prosocially, whereas reflection and slow decisions lead to selfish behavior.139 If this finding also applies to ancient humans,140 then this principle must have had a particular impact in situations that were emotionally charged and characterized by relatively quick decisions. It was precisely in assemblies, which were dominated by affect, that the situational prompting of epidosis had to be particularly effective. The institutionalized epidoseis thus generated, from the early 340s onwards, the expectation for wealthy citizens to contribute in addition to liturgy and eisphorai.141 From there, it was only a small step to require even wealthy magistrates to contribute financially to the task to which they had been appointed. Demosthenes, for instance, in 338, when he had been elected sitones (“grain buyer”), supported the purchase of grain with one talent.142 A year later, in his capacity as one of the ten teichopoioi, he contributed from his own funds 10,000 drachmas in addition to the money provided.143 From this time onwards, priests belonging to the upper classes also increasingly subsidized the tasks assigned to them.144 Isocrates provided the justification by referring to an idealized past: The patrios politeia was characterized, among other things, by the fact that magistrates received no financial compensation for their time and personal burdens, and magistracies were therefore akin to liturgies. Holding office brought prestige and was limited to those who could afford it. The demand was therefore that offices should be unpaid but prestigious

 See on the prisoner’s dilemma above Sect. 4.3.3 note 346.  Rand/Greene/Nowak (2012). 140  See Sect. 4.3.3 above with note 348. 141  Pressure was also put on other groups to provide additional performances. Professional tragoidoi and komoidoi showed generosity in their own way: they first occasionally re-enacted dramas, perhaps at their own expense, such as a tragedy in 386 (IG II2 2318 l. 202–203) and a comedy in 339 (IG II2 2318 l. 316–318). From 341 this advanced to a regular, annual practice for tragedies (IG II2 2320) or, from 311, for comedies (IG II2 2323 a). Other voluntary benefits concerned, for example, theater infrastructure. In the 330s, for example, (at least) two metics contributed substantially to the new stone skene of the Theater of Dionysus (SEG 36,149 = IG II3 470). Such donations were discussed in the assembly, which took place in the theater immediately after the Great Dionysia, and were addressed, if necessary, with honors. Thereby not only benefactions in connection with the festival of Dionysus but also with other festivals were proclaimed. Cf. the honoring in IG II3 352 of a certain Eudemus from Plataeae, who had rendered outstanding services to the construction of the Panathenaeic stadium. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) 415–417. – On monetary donations in the context of offices, see also Gygax (2016) 207–214. 142  Demosth. or. 18,248. [Plut.] X orat. Demosthenes (mor. 851 b). 143  Demosth. 18,248. [Plut.] X orat. Demosthenes (mor. 851 b). Cf. also Demosth. or. 18,118. Aeschin. 3,17. Lycurg. 1,44. Phot. Bibl. 494a 13–15. IG II2 351 l. 12–15. On the city walls of Athens, from an archaeological perspective, see Theocharaki (2011). 144  Parker (1996) 242–253. Humphreys (2004) 7–129. 138 139

5.3 A Changed Understanding of Offices: The Liturgization of Offices

255

liturgies.145 This means nothing other than bringing together both groups of people – the liturgists and the officiales. Significantly, this development was accompanied by a critique of choregia, as it no longer seemed to be linked to benefits for the community, but only to self-­interest. Indeed, one could get this impression in view of the advancing monumentalization of the choragic monuments. The changed self-image of the choregos is particularly evident in the associated inscriptions.146 Initially (in the 350s), it was customary to name the phyle as the victorious collective first, then the name of the choregos, and finally the didaskalos (followed by the usual dating).147 Within twenty years the scheme formed a new pattern which better reflected the social situation: Now (at the latest in 335/4) the name of the choregos is placed in the prestigious first line, while the victorious phyle follows only in the second line.148 Fifteen years later (320/19), the details of the victorious liturgist even take up half of the entire inscription, while the four other components (phyle, flute player, dating, chorus trainer) share the remaining line and a half.149 At the same time, the phyle is no longer mentioned as a

 Isocr. or. 12,145–146.  The 33 inscriptions are collected in Agelidis (2009) catalogue nos. 1–11; 13–19; 21–28; 30–32; 34–36. 147  This scheme was also used by Apollodorus, son of Pasion, for his victory 352/1: IG II2 3039 (= Agelidis (2009) cat. nos. 13): [Οἰνηὶ]ς παίδων [ἐνίκα]. / Ἀπολλόδωρος Πασί[ωνος Ἀχαρνεὺς] / ἐχορήγει. Λυσιά[δης Ἀθηναῖος ἐδίδασκε]. / Ἀριστόδημος ἦρ[χεν]. “The phyle Oineis conquered with the boys. / Apollodorus, son of Pasion, from Acharnai / was choregos. The Athenian Lysiades was didaskalos; / Aristodemus was archon (eponymos).” – The inscriptions Agelidis (2009) cat. nos. 3–5; 9; 14–16; 21; 23–25; 31; 34–36 also correspond to this scheme. 148  The inscription of Lysicrates from 335/4 may serve as an example of this second form (IG II2 3042): Λυσικράτης Λυσιθείδου Κικυννεὺς ἐχορήγει. / Ἀκαμαντὶς παίδων ἐνίκα. Θέων ηὔλει. / Λυσιάδης Ἀθηναῖος ἐδίδασκε. Εὐαίνετος ἦρχε. “Lysicrates, son of Lysitheides, of Cicynna was choregos; / The phyle Acamantis conquered with the boys. Theon was auletes; / The Athenian Lysiades was didaskalos. Euainetus was archon (eponymos).” 149  IG II2 3056: Θράσυλλος Θρασύλλου Δεκελεεὺς ἀνέθηκεν / χορηγῶν νικήσας ἀνδράσιν Ἱπποθωντίδι φυλῆι / Εὔιος Χαλκιδεὺς ηὔλει. Νέαιχμος ἦρχεν. Καρκίδαμος Σώτιος ἐδίδασκεν. “Thrasyllos, son of Thrasyllos, of Decelea erected this, / Because he was victorious as a choregos with the men for the phyle Hippothontis. / The Chalcidian Euius was auletes, Neaichmus archon (eponymos), the Sotian Karkidamus didaskalos.” Cf. also the reconstruction drawing of the monument in Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 179 fig. 17. – The mention of the poet and the flute player, which became established in the fourth century, reflects a genre-specific development of the dithyramb in which music became increasingly important. The citizen chorus – the political collective – was now juxtaposed with one or more soloists, the aulos player virtually took over the most prominent part during the performance, and at the same time the dithyramb took on an artistic life of its own: It became the “experimental field of the avant-garde”, according to B. Zimmermann (2008) 139. The content receded, the form gained the upper hand; the dithyramb turned into an ars gratia artis, ibid. 133. 145 146

256

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

subject in the nominative case, but is appended in the dativus commodi; it thus changed from actor to recipient, while the choregos came to the fore.150 In this sense, Isocrates dismissed the displayed wealth of the choregoi as superficial (ἀλαζονεία).151 Criticism of choregoi accordingly turned on the undue extravagance of the economic elite, the members of which displayed superfluous luxury as choregoi.152 At about the same time, Demosthenes differentiated between military expenditures and the financing of a chorus: the latter would only serve the pleasure of a few hours; expenditures devoted to defense and war, on the other hand, strengthened the security of the city.153 And Lycurgus, of all people, who was responsible for the expansion of the religious festival program, criticized in his indictment of Leocrates the rhetorical practice of impressing the jurors by means of a long list of liturgies as proof of one’s own moral integrity. At the core of his criticism was the different valuation of military and religious liturgies. The choregia, he argued, increased the fame of one’s own family and therefore served only one’s own prestige. In contrast to this are the expenditures for the common good. For these, genuine thanks were due. Among these Lycurgus counted the trierarchy, the construction of fortifications or the epidoseis. Only such achievements are valid for the community and prove the virtue of the donor. Likewise, those deserve charis who, as magistrates, could access public funds but prefer to pay out of their own pockets for the task for which they were appointed.154 Aristotle even went so far as to say that one should even keep volunteers from choregies or lampadarchies155 and rather tie such liturgies, which only served one’s own prestige, to officials – which, however, was only possible in an oligarchy.156

 Apparently, the form of the inscriptions for choregoi of the dithyrambic agones at the Great Dionysia in this last phase was oriented on the inscriptions of the victorious choregoi of the dithyrambic competitions in honor of Apollo during the Thargelia. The form, e.g. in SEG 27,18, comprises six lines and mentiones in the two first lines the victorious choregos with patronymic and demotikon. Then follow the two phylai on whose behalf he acted, together with the indication of the contest. The last three lines are reserved for the flute player, the teacher of the chorus and the archon-dating. Here, however, the order and the weighting of the actors is explained – in contrast to the choregic inscriptions of the dithyrambic agons on the occasion of the Dionysia  – by the organization of the competitions: the liturgist competed with a boys’ or men’s chorus not only for his own but also for another phyle. Only three inscriptions of the fourth century (SEG 27,14. ADelt 1970. IG II2 3072) deviate from this scheme and list the two phylai in the nominative case in the first line. See on the choregic inscriptions in the context of the Thargelia Agelidis (2009) 101–103 and cat. nos. 64–87. 151  Isocr. or. 7,54. 152  P. Wilson (2000) 269. 153  Demosth. or. 20,26. 154  Lycurg. 1,139–140. 155  Aristot. pol. 1309 a 18–21. 156  Aristot. pol. 1321 a 31–42. 150

5.3 A Changed Understanding of Offices: The Liturgization of Offices

257

This was actually implemented by Demetrius of Phalerum, a disciple of Aristotle157; he justified the end of the choregia on the grounds that some of the elaborate tripods – or their substructures – would testify to the financial ruin of the choregoi.158 The choregy was now replaced (probably in 315) by the agonothesia.159 The agonothet, elected annually, received a sum to cover expenses; in addition, he was expected to use his own funds.160 Significantly – despite Demetrios’ negative assessment – agonothesia was retained even when democracy was restored in 307.161 While nomophylakia and the civic census were abolished, legal restrictions on luxury seemed just as fitting for the times as agonothesia did as a substitute for choregy. Thus this form of financing public tasks had finally had its day and was replaced by a liturgical office. By the end of the fourth century, therefore, the choregy had completely broken away in perception from the connection between financial performance and the common good. Agonothesia thus appears as a logical consequence of the general development: the liturgical office better presented the common good orientation of wealthy citizens than the choregia, which was considered self-serving.162 The same means were used as in the case of the liturgies to motivate the office holders to additional achievements. Thus, from the 340s onwards, ordinary officeholders who had neither been generals nor otherwise stood out personally were increasingly honored.163 Even the title of euergetes and related terms, originally

 On Demetrius of Phalerum, see Davies (1971) 107–110. Gehrke (1978). Habicht (1995a) 62–75. Engels (1998) 121–154. Haake (2007) 60–82. O’Sullivan (2009). Banfi (2010). van Wees (2011). On the end of the choregy under Demetrius of Phalerum P. Wilson (2000) 270–276 and 307–308. 158  Demetrius Frg. 136 Wehrli. In fact, he was more concerned with implementing his aristocratic notions of equality and denying public attention to possible competitors. The abolition of the choregy therefore fits into the series of restrictions on expenditure. These included laws designed to limit the display of wealth at weddings, funerals, and banquets. Hosts were not allowed to entertain more than thirty people and funerals had to take place before sunrise, with even the number and price of shrouds and the expense of gravestones regulated. 159  Probably during his nomothesia in 315. Pickard-Cambridge (1988) 92. P.  Wilson (2000) 270–276. In contrast, M. Meyer (1989) 260 argues for a later date. 160  The comic poet Philippides, for example, bestowed gifts on the audience during his agonothesia, which unfortunately cannot be identified (IG II2 657 l. 40–42). P. Wilson (2008) 119. 161  Thus, even though the Athenians denounced the hypocritical legislation of Demetrius of Phalerum – in contrast to the strict rules he imposed on the Athenians, he squandered 1200 talents annually on his own luxurious lifestyle (Duris FGrHist 76  F 10)  – and even though they gave Demetrius Poliorketes an enthusiastic reception as Athens’ savior, they retained the agonothesia. Apparently, the agonal character of the publicly effective liturgies now no longer suited an elite intent on consensus; the abolition of agonothesia by Demetrius of Phaleron thus fitted into the general development of choregy despite the negative evaluation of his person. 162  Significantly, the demos now appears as a choregos (ὁ δῆμος ἐχορήγει) in the inscriptions (for example IG II2 3073 and 3077): the agonothete appears only second and accordingly takes a back seat in favour of the community. 163  Demosth. or. 18,83–84 and 118. 23,196–203. Aeschin. 3,178. Lambert (2011) 176–178.  – Lycurgus took up earlier developments, gave them the decisive impetus and created a new type of honorary inscription, according to Lambert (2008). 157

258

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

reserved for non-citizens, were now applied to citizens.164 While the honorific presentation of a crown or the conferral of a privilege was initially still held before the conferring body (council or assembly), it later moved to using the theater for such ceremonies. While this was still frowned upon until the early 330s, by the mid-330s the theater had firmly established itself as the preferred venue for honors of all kinds. This development (the honoring of ordinary officials, the liturgization of offices, the publicizing of honors and the resulting change in the understanding of office as well as the risk of being prosecuted for the consequences of public activity) was condensed in the so-called Crown Trial.165 Even if it was really about the political responsibility for the defeat of Chaeronea, formally the proposal of Ctesiphon was the subject of the trial. In 336, the latter had proposed the crowning of Demosthenes, since he had rendered services to the building of the wall and to the city in general.166 Aeschines instituted a γραφὴ παρανόμων, and justified the unlawfulness, among other things, by the general unworthiness of Demosthenes. In the present context, however, the other two objections are more significant: the crwoning was not to take place before the deciding body, but during the Dionysia in the theater. Moreover, Ctesiphon had made his proposal while Demosthenes was still in office – both as teichopoios and as head of the theorikon fund; Demosthenes had not yet undergone the official euthyna and thus had not yet been exonerated.167 But his position as the city’s chief financial officer made a proper exoneration all the more necessary.168 This brings into focus the hundred minae that Demosthenes had contributed out of his own pocket to the building of the wall: can a financial contribution to the task to which one had been elected exempt one from accountability? Is there accountability for benevolence (τις ἐστὶν εὐνοίας εὔθυνα)?169 Significantly, Aeschines draws the comparison to a liturgy; trierarchs were also accountable.170 The argument of Demosthenes in this connection is to be expected: accountability extended only to money received by the official; but the honor was paid for the gift of money, which justly compelled thanks and praise171: “but for the donations that I promised and gave at my own expense I do say that I am not accountable at any time.”172

 This was already noted by Skard (1932) 8, 15 and 47.  On the speech and the context in general, see Schäfer (1885–1887) III 221–292. Blass (1887–1898) III.1 419–438. Wankel (1976) I 7–63. E. M. Harris (1995) 138–148. G. A. Lehmann (2004) 197–203. 166  Cf. especially Aeschin. or. 3,236–237. See on the content of the proposal Schäfer (1885–1887) III 83 note 2. 167  Aeschin. or. 3,17–23 with 31. 168  Aeschin. or. 3, 25–26. 169  Aeschin. or. 3,17. 170  Aeschin. or. 3,19. 171  Demosth. or. 18,113. 172  Demosth. or. 18,112. 164 165

5.3 A Changed Understanding of Offices: The Liturgization of Offices

259

Aeschines probably had the law on his side,173 but the eunoia attached to the office softened the boundaries of legal norms. Therefore, in 330, given the Demosthenic achievements for the polis and the anti-Macedonian sentiment, the vast majority of the jurors took no offense at the proceedings.174 Accordingly, it can be stated: When Demosthenes entered the political arena in the mid-fourth century, public finances were among the most important issues negotiated in the ekklesia. Undoubtedly, the administration of the fifth-century tributes from the allies was also demanding, but the drying up of financial flows from outside coupled with the high military expenditures during the Social War posed a far greater problem than even in the fifth century, one that could only be solved with careful analysis, creative ideas, and refined methods. As a result, revenue generation was so complex and the demands on the economic expertise of speakers so high that only continuously politically active people could comment on this subject. At the same time, the experts’ proposals were so complicated that the details of the speeches were impossible to follow. The majority of Athenians thus voted for one proposal or another on the basis of the trust they placed in the respective rhetor, which gave him informal power. The development of a socio-economically and politically defined elite received a decisive boost from the establishment of the theorikon fund. The commissioner of the theorika was not only the key figure within the financial administration, but his office broke with all previous democratic principles of minimizing power. The Athenians accepted this special position because the foreign policy and financial crisis seemed to justify unusual means, because it was assumed by trustworthy experts, because economic success proved them right, and because, finally, thetes were traditionally excluded from all offices and Athena’s treasurers also had to come from the ranks of the pentakosiomedimnoi – in accordance with a Solonic law that, although not always observed, was nevertheless not formally abolished in the fourth century.175 Thus, the way was paved for serious changes in the understanding of office. Now officials were expected to contribute more to their task. In return, they were assured the gratitude of the polis and special prestige. Property, prestige, and knowledge now distinguished officials.  Duncan (2006) 70.  Four-fifths of the jurors voted in favor of Demosthenes; Aeschines was fined and left Athens. – Flaig (2013a) 304–305, on the other hand, is far too optimistic about the episode, since he overlooks the fact that Demosthenes was acquitted and that no offence was taken at the incomplete accountability: “Aus diesem Konflikt [between Demosthenes and Aeschines over accountability, D.R.] ist zu ersehen, wie leicht die Demokratie in eine Honoratiorenherrschaft hineingeschliddert wäre, wenn der Demos sich nicht dagegen wehrte. Es spricht für hohes zivisches Bewußtsein, daß die Bürgerschaften ein solches Verhalten nicht duldeten und reguläre Rechenschaft verlangten. Erst unter römischer Herrschaft passierte es: Der Euergetismus zusammen mit den römischen Eingriffen verwandelten die Demokratie in eine Herrschaft der städtischen Honoratioren. ” 175  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 7,3 and 47,1. Poll. 8,130. Even if the census qualifications were no longer observed in the fourth century, they were not formally eliminated, according to Blösel (2014) contra Schmitz (1995b). 173 174

260

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

5.4 A Democracy on an Unprecedented Scale: The Monumentalization of Public Buildings The development of a socio-economic elite dominating the formation of political opinion and the liturgization of offices were accompanied by an emphasis on democratic institutions. Only now, in the 330s, was a cult formed for the personification of democracy, to whom sacrifices were offered176 and whose priest – just like the priest of the god Demos – had a seat of honor in the theater.177 At about the same time, the council decided to erect a statue of the goddess Demokratia in the agora,178 where in the Stoa of Zeus Eleutherios the famous painter Euphranor had already associated Demokratia with Theseus and Demos two decades earlier.179 At the same time, the urban planning emphasis shifted in comparison to the fifth century: while in the fifth century almost all resources flowed into the redevelopment of the “high city” and the lower city remained largely neglected,180 in the fourth century a lively building activity began in the entire city area, which even exceeded the building volume of the fifth century. The surface area covered by public buildings of the fourth century were three times as large as those of the fifth century.181 In addition to infrastructure measures such as roads or fountains, the continuous, central collection of surpluses in the theorikon fund initiated by Eubulus made long-term planning possible; the large buildings were therefore conceptually and organizationally closely linked to the head of the theorikon fund. At the same time, it was precisely those projects that were considered symbols of democracy that were initiated by the holder of this undemocratic office.

 The cult of Demokratia included an annual sacrifice performed by the strategoi in the month of Boedromion, probably on the 12th day (IG II2 1496 l. 131–132; l. 140–141). The 12th of Boedromion was traditionally the day on which democracy was re-established in 403. [Plut.] mor. 349 f. Palagia (1982) 111. It is therefore probable that this day, though attested only for the 330s, had already been observed as an anniversary since the fall of the “Thirty”. J.  H. Oliver (1960) 105–106. Raubitschek (1962) 239. Hansen (1995) 42. – See on the cult of Demokratia in general Raubitschek (1962). Palagia (1982) 99. Parker (1996) 228–229.  – From when Demokratia was worshipped as a goddess cannot be decided; in any case, the personification of democracy can be traced from the turn of the fourth century. On the tomb of Critias there is said to have been a personification of both oligarchy and democracy (Schol. Aeschin or, 1.39) and an Athenian ship was called “Demokratia” in 374/3 (IG II2 1606 l. 59–60). 177  IG II2 5029 a. 178  IG II2 2791 + SEG 32,238 (from the year 333/2). Parts of a statue of Demokratia dating from between 335 and 330 were found. The fragments originate from the foundations of a house from the Byzantine period and were found about one metre next to pedestal foundations from the third quarter of the fourth century. The dating of the statue on the basis of stylistic features corresponds to this. On the statue of Demokratia see Raubitschek (1962). Palagia (1982). Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 42–44. 179  Paus. 1,3,3–4. On Euphranor see Plin. nat. 35,129 and Palagia (1980). 180  See Knell (1979). 181  20,000 square meters in the fifth century to 60,000 square meters in the fourth century, according to Knell (2000) 11–12. 176

5.4 A Democracy on an Unprecedented Scale: The Monumentalization of Public…

261

No other building represented Athenian democracy better than the Pnyx.182 While in other Greek poleis the assembly usually met in the agora or the theater, the Athenians afforded a functional differentiation of the structural substance by creating an ekklesiasterion.183 After the area had been restructured and extended at considerable expense around 400,184 it provided space for between 6500 and 8000 or perhaps as many as 14,800 ecclesiasts.185 Pnyx III, which had probably been initiated by Eubulus, could now hold about twice that number, with about 10,000,

 The Pnyx underwent a total of two profound rebuilding measures: Pnyx I: approx. (500 or) 460–400; Pnyx II: approx. 400–340; Pnyx III: from approx. 340. – On the construction history of the Pnyx in general, see Kourouniotes/H.  A. Thompson (1932). Travlos (1971) 466–476 H. A. Thompson (1982). Hansen (1995) 131–132. Forsén (1996). Camp (1996). Rotroff (1996). Stanton (1996). Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 31–38 with 170 fig. 7. Knell (2000) 55–62. Tozzi (2016) 36–47. Since the reforms of Cleisthenes (or Ephialtes), the area of about 2400 square meters could accommodate at least 6000 seated – if necessary standing – ecclesiasts. In this first phase of use only the auditorium was adapted to the slope by removing or filling up unevennesses of the terrain and laying out a bema. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 32. Knell (2000) 55. – On capacity see also note 186 below and Kourouniotes/H.  A. Thompson (1932) 104. Hansen (1976b). H.  A. Thompson (1982) 135. Hansen (1982) and (1996). Stanton (1996) 17–20. – While the ecclesiasts probably sat on the ground (as long as there was not a large crowd), the prytaneis, other officials and dignitaries could sit on wooden seats. Aristoph. Equ. 754–783; Vesp. 31–33; 42–44. Ach. 25. see McDonald (1943) 69. H. A. Thompson (1982) 135. Hansen (1996) 25. 183  Hansen (1995) 132 with few examples from other poleis in note 49. 184  Contrary to Plutarch’s account (Themistocles 19,4) and the older research that follows it, it is far more plausible to connect the rebuilding measures not with the rule of the “Thirty” but with the subsequent restitution of democracy. For a critique of Plutarch’s account, see Dinsmoor (1933) 180–181. Moysey (1981) 31–37. – The unhistorical narrative can be located in the political imaginaire that equated democracy with naval rule. See Schmidt-Hofner (2014) 639–641. – The first primitive and unrepresentative complex was given a completely different appearance at the turn of the fourth century: The structure was turned 180 degrees so that the oratory stage was no longer on the sloping side facing the city. The natural slope of the terrain had to be compensated artificially by earth fillings, which in turn required extensive substructures. The area was enlarged to a total of about 2600 (or even 3200 or 3400) square metres and was now complete. 2600 square metres: H. A. Thompson (1982) 138–139. Moysey (1981) 139. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 33. Knell (2000) 56.  – 3200 square metres: Dinsmoor (1933) 181. Hansen (1995) 135.  – 3400  square metres: Stanton (1996) 16–17. – That the area of Pnyx II and III was completed is emphasized by Hansen (1986) as well as (1996) 29, linking this observation to the introduction of ekklesiastikos misthos. 185  The question of how many assembly participants Pnyx II could accommodate has not yet been conclusively clarified; the variance results from the different areas and the possibility of also following the events while standing: At about 2600 square metres, about 6500 spectators can be seated comfortably on the floor, whereas at about 3200 square metres, 8000 can be seated, according to figures suggested by Hansen (1976b) 130–131 and (1995) 134, but challenged by Stanton/ Bicknell (1987) 68–69; 71; note 73 and Stanton (1996) 17–20 respectively. There, a area of 3400 square metres is even assumed to have a maximum capacity of 14,800 standing persons. 182

262

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

13,800, or even 24,100 people.186 The considerable enlargement of the people’s meeting place necessitated a constructional effort that far exceeded the usual one.187 The imposing, costly complex, which was designed to attract attention from afar, was an impressive sight and testifies to the strong interest in the ekklesia as the place where the Athenians collectively exercised their civic rights. Here, not only was a meeting place expanded in accordance with factual requirements, but the decision-­ makers were also interested in a “intrusive demonstration of unique efforts of strength”.188 Not only the place of the assembly received monumental structures under Eubulus and Lycurgus respectively, but also the second important democratic institution: the dikasteria.189 With a high degree of probability, the largest building of the agora could be identified as a law-court. Its exposed location in the northeastern area of the agora and its monumentalization since about 325190 testify to the ­importance Athenians attached to the dikasteria in the last third of the fourth

 The building form and orientation were also retained in the second reconstruction. The chronology is disputed. Pottery and lamp finds only provide a terminus post quem; according to this, the rebuilding was started after 350. H. A. Thompson (1982) 144. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 37. – Since the sources on Lycurgus give no indication of a rebuilding of the Pnyx and the politician was mainly committed to the construction of the Theater of Dionysus, it has been suggested that the start of construction was in the 340s (still under Eubulus). H. A. Thompson (1982) 144–145. Camp (1996) 41; 45–46. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 37–38. By contrast, see H.  A. Thompson/Scranton (1943) 300–301. W. Will (1983) 81. Hansen (1996) 23–24. Rotroff (1996) 39–40. Knell (2000) 57–61. – The Theater of Dionysus was already at least occasionally used for assemblies at this time (IG II2 140 l. 4 from 353/2). Therefore Camp (1996) 45–46 assumes that Pnyx III was begun in the 340s but not completed. This is because the reconstruction of the Theater of  Dionysus under Lycurgus would have taken up all the financial resources and the theater would also have provided a ‘congenial meeting place’. – On the thesis that Pnyx III under Lycurgus was converted into a “multipurpose facility” and was now also used for athletic competitions during the Panathenaea, see Romano (1985) as well as (1996) and the critique in Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 36–37. – On the potential number of ecclesiasts, see H.  A. Thompson (1982) 142. Hansen (1976b) 130–131. Stanton (1996) 18. On the problem of calculating capacity, the previous note. 187  A semicircular retaining wall with mighty, cleanly worked stone blocks was necessary for the required backfill. Individual wall blocks have a volume of up to eleven cubic meters and a weight of more than thirty tons. Kourouniotes/H. A. Thompson (1932) 148. See also the photograph of the retaining wall in Knell (2000) 59 fig. 31. 188  Knell (2000) 59. 189  On the importance of the courts in Athens’ democratic self-image see above Sect. 2.1.1. On the court buildings of the fourth century see in summary Knell (2000) 101–105. 190  Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 71. Knell (2000) 104. – For a discussion of dating see Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 72–73. 186

5.4 A Democracy on an Unprecedented Scale: The Monumentalization of Public…

263

century.191 The same applies to the Monument of the Eponymous Heroes, which fulfilled both important communicative and identity-forming functions for the political community.192 Also in the last third of the fourth century,193 the podium, which was nearly seventeen meters long and almost two meters wide, was given a carefully worked marble cornice on which the ten slightly larger-than-life bronze statues stood, along with a large tripod at each end, giving the placement of the statues a sacred aura.194 Perhaps Athens had sent a delegation to Delphi, as it had done under Cleisthenes, to give the new building a special religious foundation and to construct a line of tradition.195 Some construction measures were certainly technically necessary, but the elaborate design of the buildings makes it clear that expediency was not the only decisive

 The square peristyle building, 3500 square meters in size, was built over three structures dating from the fifth and early fourth centuries, in which a box urn for ballots used in trials was unearthed. A main entrance, visually highlighted by a propylon façade, was located on Panathenaea Street and, together with a secondary entrance on the opposite side, formed one of the two entrances to the area, which was surrounded by a wall about six meters high. While the exterior of the peristyle courtyard appeared monumental due to the unstructured façade, but (except for the planned representative propylon) unadorned, the interior had more architectural details. A three-metope frieze – especially popular in the Hellenistic period – spanned the fourteen Doric columns, each of which was erected on all four sides at a distance of more than eight metres from the outer wall. Under the roofing a total of about 2000 persons would have been seated on simple furniture. On this building, see H.  A. Thompson/Wycherley (1972) 56–62. Camp (2010) 119–122. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 71–73. Knell (2000) 102–104. On the box containing the psephoi, see H. A. Thompson (1954) 58–59. Knell (2000) 103. – Townsend (1982) 33–35 doubts the identification with a courthouse and suggests alternatively its use as a market hall. 192  Here, for example, public notices of all kinds, such as proposals, the agenda of the assembly, psephismata, public indictments, or lists of those to be summoned, were posted on wooden boards. Aristoph. Pax 1183–1184; Demosth. or. 20,94; 21,103; 24,23. Aeschin. or. 3,39. [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 53,4. – The heroes had given their names to the ten phylai newly created by Cleisthenes, and therefore their monument was inseparably connected in the collective memory with Athenian democracy. See generally on the Monument of  the  Eponymous Heroes Wycherley (1973) 85–90. T. L. Shear (1970). Travlos (1971) 210–212. Thompson/Wycherley (1972) 38–41. U. Kron (1976) 228–236. Mattusch (1994). Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) 40–42 with 171 fig. 8. Knell (2000) 93–96. Camp (2010) 66–68. 193  From an inventory it is known that boule and demos donated ten silver kylikes to the eponymous heroes under the archon Euthykritos (328/7) – probably on the occasion of the completion of the building. On this, see Rotroff (1978). W. Will (1983) 84–85. 194  The tripods may recall the Delphic oracle, according to T.  L. Shear (1970) 170, to which Cleisthenes had submitted the names of a hundred heroes, from which ten were to be chosen ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 21,6). Kearns (1989) 80–92. 195  A ten-man legation, which included at least one prominent member, Lycurgus, arrived at Delphi in 330, i.e. at about the same time as the completion of the construction work, where a tripod confirms the presence of Athenian representatives. Knell (2000) 95. 191

264

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

factor here; democracy was also to be given a representative appearance.196 The link between the socio-economic and the political elite made democratic legitimacy necessary; expert practice and democratic discourse were mutually dependent.197 Therefore, the demos and the political institutions in the public sphere were even valorized. The assembly was of central importance. Since it combined several levels of meaning, it could even compensate for the loss of eleutheria after the Battle of Chaeronea and the dominance of specialists. In addition to its function as a decision-­ making body, it drew its attractiveness from tradition; assembling on the Pnyx was therefore also a performative practice: democracy staged itself here; the site of the assembly was a place of self-assurance. But visiting the Pnyx also represented a ritual act. The Athenians met there about every ten days; the ekklesia therefore symbolized the unity of the demos at regular intervals. Moreover, it provided social and political meaning, as it made the collective tangible, manifested belonging,198 and formed a shared horizon of values. It was therefore consistent not only to expand the Pnyx considerably, but at the same time to subject the agenda to a precise set of rules199 and, above all, to increase the assembly pay.200 Thus, even if a foreign policy success failed to materialize and the knowledge gap between experts and demos widened, even if wealthy financial experts guided the formation of opinion, and the liturgical stratum monopolized certain offices: the “average” Athenian did not have to feel put back – rather, it seemed that he even profited from the developments: The building projects revitalized the local economy, offered a positive self-image, the numerous festivals made Athens the cultural center of the Greek world, and finally, the competent commissioners of the fund were responsible for spending the theorika.

 The same phenomenon can be observed after the restoration of democracy. Thus, shortly after 400, reconstruction measures can be detected at the Pnyx as well as at the bouleuterion and at the tholos: The tholos received a fundamental renewal, which had probably become necessary due to destruction during the reign of the “Thirty”. In keeping with tradition, the form and dimensions of the previous building were retained almost unchanged. The tholos was not only the official residence of the prytaneis, occupied day and night, but it also housed the weights and measures of the polis. On the tholos, see H.  A. Thompson (1940). Travlos (1971) 553–561. H.  A. Thompson/ Wycherley (1972) 41–46. Seiler (1986) 29–35. Knell (2000) 67–69. Camp (2010) 94–97. On the bouleuterion Knell (2000) 65–67. 197  See on the acceptance of democracy in fourth century public discourse Tiersch (2018). 198  The separation between those who belonged and those who were mere spectators was surely intended by the wide terrace above the auditorium. On this see H. A. Thompson/Scranton (1943). H. A. Thompson (1982) 141. 199  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43,4–6. 200  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 62,2. 196

5.5 The “Glue of Democracy”: The Discussion About the theorika

265

5.5 The “Glue of Democracy”: The Discussion About the theorika The extent to which the relationship between the citizen and the polis had qualitatively changed can be seen in particular in the discussion about the theorika.201 Since the great festivals just as the assembly encompassed several polysemous levels of meaning and participation was required for religious, cultural, and social reasons, theorika enabled the participation of all strata of the population; here the polis manifested itself as a cult community.202 However, there is hardly a positive voice on the theorika that has made it into the tradition. Thus, Theopompus called the initiator of the theorika, Eubulus, a demagogue who had made the Athenians cowardly and reckless by distributing money.203 This negative assessment was aimed at two directional decisions: defensive foreign policy and the distribution of theorika. In this context, the foreign and domestic policy levels were linked not only discursively but also organizationally. After the Social War, a law required “the funds remaining over from state expenditures” (τὰ περιόντα χρήματα τῆς διοικήσεως) to be paid to the military fund (στρατιωτικά) in wartime and to the theorikon fund (θεωρικά) in peacetime.204 Thus, surpluses were directly linked to expenditures for war, which is why the theorika was subject to negotiation processes of conflicting interests and different prioritization. The discussion in the early 340s is particularly well documented; it shows a society in upheaval. While Eubulus still acted as head of the theorikon fund and set the foreign policy line, Demosthenes in the Olynthiacs tried to successively prepare the way for using the surpluses as stratiotika. The three speeches were delivered in the period between the summer of 349 and the spring of 348, and were subsequently expanded and clarified by Demosthenes in terms of argument. They are not programmatic or memoranda, but neither are they mere transcripts. With the revised versions of the three Olynthiacs, which build on one another, Demosthenes pursued

 See also Sect. 2.2.1 above.  This intention Philinos (ap. Harpocr. s. v. θεωρικά ) expressed almost literally: ‘ἐκλήθη δὲ θεωρικόν, ὅτι τῶν Διονυσίων ὑπογύων ὄντων διένειμεν Εὔβουλος εἰς τὴν θυσίαν, ἵνα πάντες ἑορτάζωσι καὶ τῆς θεωρίας μηδεὶς τῶν πολιτῶν ἀπολείπηται δι’ ἀσθένειαν τῶν ἰδίων.’ “It was called theorikon, however, because Eubulus, when the Dionysia were close at hand, distributed it for the festival, so that all might celebrate and none of the citizens stayed away from the spectacle for lack of their own means.” 203  Harpocr. s. v. Eubulus: “That he was the most excellent demagogue, careful and diligent, money he could often have distributed to the Athenians, wherefore it came to pass that the polis became more cowardly and reckless under his administration of the state, [as] Theopomp [writes] in the 10th book of his Philippics.” 204  [Demosth.] or. 59,4. 201 202

266

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

the goal of rallying the Athenians to war against Philip II.205 In order to raise the necessary funds, Demosthenes in the 1st Olynthiac implied that the theorika could basically cover the financial means for military purposes. At the same time, he criticized, in a cloaked but nonetheless rhetorically deft manner, the current political mood, which ruled out the rededication of theorika to stratiotika.206 In a second step Demosthenes demanded in the 2nd Olynthiac a discussion beyond partisanship solely with factual arguments.207 Apparently, he was reacting to vocal groups that demanded the distribution of theorika out of socio-political conviction. In the last Olynthiac, Demosthenes now openly stated what he had already hinted at in the 1st and prepared in the 2nd Olynthiac: the money of the theorikon fund should finance military undertakings. For this purpose, the Athenians would have to change the laws on theorika, so that the rhetors could make applications to declare these funds as stratiotika.208 The Demosthenic justification is revealing: The rededication of theorika to war purposes is not only a military necessity but also arises from civic duties: The polis was not to distribute alms, but was only allowed to remunerate citizens for services.209 This argumentation thus interpreted the theorika as social benefits and thus ciphered the foreign policy course of the polis as a whole; ultimately, however, Demosthenes constructed a supposed conflict of roles: was the polis more of a community of defense or more of a community of fate? In a situation in which the Athenians undoubtedly saw themselves as both a community of defense and a community of fate, Apollodorus was able to convince the assembly of the need to redesignate the theorika as stratiotika in order to provide aid to Athenian troops.210 In this he had the majority of Athenians on his side, but  On the problem of whether Demosthenes himself circulated his speeches in written form, see above Sect. 5.1 note 23. Even if he had written down the three Olynthiacs only for his own use, his arguments nevertheless build on each other and testifiy to an attempt to pave the way within half a year for declaring the surpluses not as theorika but as stratiotika. 206  Demosth. or. 1,19–20. 207  Demosth. or. 2,29–30. 208  Demosth. or. 3,10–13. 209  Demosth. or. 3,34–35. Cf. also E. M. Harris (1996) 61, who assumes that Demosthenes does not criticize the theorikon fund as such. Similarly, Burke (2002). 210  In 348, the foreign policy situation had come to a head. Olynthus, the capital of the Chalcidian-­ Olynthian alliance, had broken away from Athens and had entered into an alliance with Philip II.  But after Philip II continued to pursue his expansionist plans in Thrace and had besieged Olynthus since 349 (Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 49), the polis turned to its old ally Athens in 348 (Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 50). At the same time, Plutarch, the tyrant of Eretria, requested assistance from the Athenians to suppress a rebellion directed against him. Therefore, the Athenians sent the strategos Phocion to Euboea, to secure Athenian influence. However, the mission was not very successful: Phocion was arrested at Tamynae and required further support (Plut. Phocion 12–14). On this, see Cawkwell (1962a) 127–130. Brunt (1969). J.  M. Carter (1971). Burke (1984). – Then, in the spring of 348, Apollodorus, as a member of the council, moved that the assembly should decide for what purpose – for war or as theater salary – the surplus should be used. The probouleuma passed, and the assembly voted to rededicate it as stratiotika. On this, see Hansen (1976c). Trevett (1992) 138–146. 205

5.5 The “Glue of Democracy”: The Discussion About the theorika

267

not the politically influential. The decision was overturned on procedural grounds,211 and the law was even tightened on the initiative of Eubulus212: the theorika were to benefit the citizens as festival payments, but were not to be used as stratiotika. Applications to the contrary were to attract the death penalty.213 Accordingly, Eubulus vehemently reiterated that he allowed no room for negotiation; if there was no immediate threat, the distribution of funds should not be suspended in favor of military operations.214 Accordingly, both opponents and supporters interpreted theorika as “transfer payments”. Their critics invoked the traditional evaluation of poverty: poverty was acceptable if it was actively countered,215 as the Thucydidean Pericles had put it: “and when a citizen is in any way distinguished, he is preferred to the public service, not as a matter of privilege, but as the reward of merit. Neither is poverty a bar, but a man may benefit his country whatever be the obscurity of his condition.”216 The theorika, however, were considered, as Demosthenes had prefigured, as support without any service on their part. Thus, the speaker inserted festival payments into the context of passive poverty, which was negatively valued. In this sense, Aristotle suggested that the surpluses should not be distributed immediately to the poor, but should first be accumulated. Then they could be paid out in such an amount and

 Stephanus raised a graphe paranomon against him, the decision was reversed, and Apollodorus sentenced to a fine of one talent ([Demosth.] or. 59,3–8). The charge of Stephanus had certainly arisen from the private dispute between the two. Even before that – around the year 350 – there had been disputes ([Demosth.] or. 45 and 46), which were kept alive in court with this graphe paranomon until the 340s. On Apollodorus vs. Stephanus, see Trevett (1992) 15–17 for a summary. – As clear as the facts seem at first glance, the legal constellation is more convoluted on closer examination. Apollodorus’ proposed law was clearly aimed at using the surplus for the sacking of Phocion and the support of Olynthus’ ([Demosth.] or. 59,3). However, Athens at this time – formally since 357 – was at war with Philip II. Accordingly, the surplus money could have been used for military purposes anyway. Public opinion was thus divided as to whether Athens was at war and should send the entire force to the two trouble spots. Apparently, it was possible to interpret the circumstances one way or the other. Nor need the paranomon action have been in response to a direct breach of law. The graphe paranomon could also be raised generally when the spirit of the constitution seemed to have been violated. That Athens was formally at war did not matter here. 212  Schol. Demosth. or. 1,1. Ulpian on Demosth. or. 1,1. 213  Thus Libanius in his hypothesis on the 1st Olynthiac (1.5): “But they [the Athenians] also passed a law concerning these theorika-funds, threatening death to him who proposed to divert them to the original order and use it as war-funds.” It has been suggested that Libanius mistakenly took ἀπολέσθαι as a terminus technicus for capital punishment. Cawkwell (1963) 59–60, who stresses the implausibility of the scholiast. E. M. Harris (1996) is also skeptical. That this need not be so is shown by the evidence listed in Hansen (1976c) 237 note 10 of clauses which provided for the death penalty. So also Buchanan (1962) 63 note 1. 214  It was not until 339/8 that Demosthenes, anticipating a military confrontation with Philip II, was able to get the surplus transferred to the military fund. Philochorus FGrHist 328 F 56a. Cawkwell (1962a). 215  On this point, see Cecchet (2015) 25–31 and 185–226. 216  Thuc. 2,37,1: οὐδ᾽ αὖ κατὰ πενίαν, ἔχων γέ τι ἀγαθὸν δρᾶσαι τὴν πόλιν, ἀξιώματος ἀϕανείᾳ κεκώλυται. 211

268

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

invested in such a way that the money was sufficient to build up an independent existence.217 With Eubulus, however, the supporters of theorika prevailed, so that subsequently it was valid: the citizens have an unbreakable right to financial support. It is therefore understandable why Eubulus went down in collective memory as the “friend of the people”.218 Thus theorika were charged with a meaning contradictory to their origin: The fund was fed by “sums left over by the administration”219 and unexpected special revenues that the merismos could no longer account for. Put pointedly, the theorikon fund was a residual fund that held the money that did not serve the day-to-day business. For this reason, the theorika could also be used for tasks that went beyond the pure functioning of the polis – such as the distribution of festival payments on the occasion of the Panathenaea and the Dionysia. Ultimately, this reactivated a tradition that was also known elsewhere in the Greek world and with which Themistocles had broken. For usually surplus profits belonged to all citizens and were spent among them.220 Whereas in earlier times the distribution of surpluses was derived from the idea of the polis as a military community of citizens with equal rights, the festival payment was interpreted not as an expression of the polis as a cult community, but as a social obligation towards poorer fellow citizens. Thus they received what was due to them; the polis gave τοῖς πολλοῖς τὰ αὑτῶν.221 This opened the way to go a step beyond the established in other areas as well, especially in the context of grain supply: The polis no longer only secured grain at affordable prices, but now also distributed grain free of charge222 or money, so that poorer people could also afford the staple food. The Athenian citizen could

 Aristot. pol. 1320 a 29–1320 b 4 : “While where there are revenues men must not do what the popular leaders do now (for they use the surplus for doles, and people no sooner get them than they want the same doles again, because this way of helping the poor is the legendary jar with a hole in it), but the truly democratic statesman must study how the multitude may be saved from extreme poverty; for this is what causes democracy to be corrupt. Measures must therefore be contrived that may bring about lasting prosperity. And since this is advantageous also for the well-to-do, the proper course is to collect all the proceeds of the revenues into a fund and distribute this in lump sums to the needy, best of all, if one can, in sums large enough for acquiring a small estate, or, failing this, to serve as capital for trade or husbandry, and if this is not possible for all, at all events to distribute the money by tribes or some other division of the population in turn, while in the meantime the well-to-do must contribute pay for attendance at the necessary assemblies, being themselves excused from useless public services.” 218  Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 99–100. Plut. mor. 812 f. Iust. 6,9. 219  [Demosth.] or. 59,4. 220  So also Andreades (1931) 277. Themistocles had ensured that the revenues from the silver mines no longer benefited the individual polities, but that they were invested in the building of a fleet (Hdt. 7,144,1–2). Blösel (2004) 64–107 and (2007). Cf. the distribution of surpluses in Siphnos (Hdt. 3,57,1–2). On the silver and gold deposits at Siphnos, see Wagner/Weisgerber/Kroker (1985). On the distribution of surpluses as a generally widespread phenomenon in older times Latte (1946/1947). 221  With these words Pseudo-Aristotle (Ath. pol. 27,4) commented on the introduction of misthophoria for the dicasts under Pericles; this represents the same reinterpretation. 222  Theophr. char. 23,5. 217

5.6 Results

269

therefore expect that the polis would take care of his needs and make it possible for him to participate financially in all the important – since identity-forming – institutions. Thus the relationship between citizen and polis had changed considerably: From a political duty of the citizen towards the polis to a social duty of the polis towards the citizen.

5.6 Results The fourth century witnessed a professionalization of financial reflection of which only trained, continuously politically active rhetors were capable at this high level.223 The heads of the theorikon fund were recruited from among them. The highest office – the most prominent figures of their time acted as heads of the theorika or, later, as the administrator (ὁ ἐπὶ τῇ διοικήσει)224 – broke the conventional rules designed to minimize the concentration of power. The Athenians accepted such an exceptional office because the financial crisis after the Social War forced them to take drastic measures and because the influence of ὁ ἐπὶ τὸ θεωρικόν was based on informal structures and trust. Nevertheless, the respective office-holders dominated public discourse to such an extent that their names stood for a whole range of policies. Around these individuals grouped was a larger number of politically active people. These rhetors “from the second row” remained essentially stable225 in their composition and lent continuity to the respective political line in terms of both personnel and content226 – without thereby forming fixed parties or ideological camps.227 At the same time, speakers “from the second row” were also eligible for offices that became liturgized in the course of the fourth century and could therefore only be assumed by wealthy members of the upper stratum. This linkage of the socio-­ economic and political elite seemed acceptable because, at the same time, democracy seemed more vital than ever and the less well-off citizens also benefited financially from the remunerations, food supplies, and festival payment. Moreover, participation in democratic institutions satisfied the need for symbolic

 This can be seen very clearly, for example, in the so-called Grain Tax Law of Agyrrhius. See above Sect. 2.2.2. 224  Eubulus and Demosthenes acted respectively as ὁ ἐπὶ τὸ θεωρικόν, Lycurgus and Demetrius as ὁ ἐπὶ τῇ διοικήσει. 225  On the prosopography of the Lycurgian period, see Faraguna (1992). 226  Among them Demosthenes stands out, who first belonged to the group around Eubulus and then promoted Lycurgus himself. In the same way, Demosthenes had admired Callistratus, who also counted Eubulus among his followers. 227  This has already been convincingly elaborated by Funke (1980a) in his study of Athenian politics. The alliances of leading politicians could, firstly, be based on lasting cooperation, secondly, represent political alliances of convenience for a limited period of time in order to achieve common political goals and increase their own influence, and thirdly, form followings without their own ambitions around an opinion leader. Funke (1980a) 110 note 23. 223

270

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

representation.228 Finally, the assembled citizens, regardless of their respective social and economic status, continued to vote on the proposals of competing rhetors, although they now tended to decide on the basis of trust in the common good orientation and expertise of the elite. Therefore, only a relatively small circle of active orators continued to define what was considered useful for the community. The whole problem of this development became apparent when the assembly was, as it were, undermined. Here the Areopagus was of particular importance. In the period between 355 and 323/2, the assembly of the former archons experienced iudicative, administrative, and probouleutic extensions of competence, since the council of the hill of Ares, due to its continuity of personnel, its relatively small size (about 150 persons), and composition of competent and respected citizens, permitted a discussion removed from the pressure of the assembly.229 Paradigmatically, all the extensions of authority were pro forma conformist: They tied in with traditional powers, with the ultimate decision – again pro forma – resting with the ekklesia; the Areopagus was considered accountable to the demos.230 In this construct, it assumed an advisory function without taking a position itself,231 in order to counteract the “lack of understanding” (ἄγνοια) of the citizens in a corrective manner232 and thus optimize the decisions of the assembly. De facto, however, the Areopagus was able to use its prestige to guide votes, since the assembly generally followed the apophasis of the Areopagus, which was considered to be competent in the matter.233 This gave it informal power, which became precarious when it was combined with minority interests and it became customary for the Areopagus to act on its own initiative rather than on order of the ekklesia.234

 So also Nippel (1980) 119.  He was considered the guardian of patrios politeia and a symbol of the stability of democracy, according to Zelnick-Abramovitz (2011). The Areopagites were therefore credited with dignity, justice, and integrity. See, for example, Lys. or. 7,22. Aeschin. 1,84 and 92. Lycurg. 12. Demosth. or. 23,66 and ep. 3.42. See on the reputation and status of the Areopagus Wallace (1989a) 126–127. – Hence the Areopagites were set apart from the assemblies and dikasts as an exclusive body controlled by dokimasia and euthyna (Hypereid. Frg. 138 Jensen). 230  Aeschin. 3,20. 231  Aeschin. 1,83. 232  Demosth. or. 18,133–134. 233  Carawan (1985). On these occasions the council members, whose presence demanded respectful seriousness (Aeschin. 1,84), apparently appeared united in the assembly (Aeschin. 1,81). This gave special authority to the recommendation. 234  From apophasis on its own initiative, the customary right to be heard in an expert capacity developed in the Hellenistic period. Kahrstedt (1937) 33. 228 229

5.6 Results

271

Several such cases are known.235 Of these, the Antiphon affair and the election of Phocion as commander-in-chief in the wake of Chaeronea deserve special attention236: a certain Antiphon, in revenge for the loss of Athenian citizenship, is said to have allied with Philip II and intended to set fire to the ship yards. Demosthenes, however, not only uncovered the plot, but met him personally at Piraeus and brought an eisangelia charge against him. However, after Aeschines had achieved the dismissal of the case, the Areopagus took action. It had Antiphon arrested and interrogated under torture, convicted him, and had him executed.237 In this case, then, the decision of a court commissioned by the ekklesia was overturned on the initiative of Demosthenes and directed in his favor.238 The concerted action of an influential politician and a prestigious institution thus levered out the dicasteries, which were regarded as the symbol of democracy – without any resistance being formed. The election of Phocion was characterized by a similar institutional conflict, which was triggered by different interests in the polis and then decided by the Areopagus: When, after the Battle of Chaeronea, it became apparent that a majority in the assembly would elect Charidemus as commander-in-chief in the event of a siege, those who wished to use Phocion as a mediating signal for an understanding with Philip II activated the Areopagus through informal channels; an official commissioning of the Areopagites can be ruled out, since Phocion’s supporters were, after all, in the minority. The council spoke out in favor of Phocion, who then found the approval of the ekklesia.239 The assembly of former archons was thus able to act within democratic structures in such a way that the ekklesia remained formally sovereign and the holder of the final decision. Nevertheless, the Areopagus, whose members came from the  The beginning was made by the Demosthenic Areopagus Law, of which only a brief remark by Dinarchus in his speech Against Demosthenes (1,62) has survived. Cf. the commentary by Worthington (1992) 225–226 on the passage. This probably refers to the introduction of the apophasis-­procedure, which Wallace (1989a) 115–119 dates to 343. See, on the other hand, Engels (1988a) 189, with a dating to the year of the Antiphon affair 346/5. The apophasis apostrophized Demosthenes as a return to patrios politeia. Din. 1,.62 mentions the patrioi nomoi, which Hansen (1989) 94–95 characterizes as synonymous with patrios politeia. The known affairs in the 340s and 330s were then all significantly decided in the interests of Demosthenes. Rhodes (1980) 319–320. Engels (1988a) 189. Worthington (1992) 226. 236  Other affairs that illustrate the expansion of the Areopagus’ competence are the Delian controversy and the events after Chaeronea. See Engels (1988a) 191–193 for a summary. 237  Demosth. or. 18,132–133. Plut. Demosthenes 14,4. Both accounts of the events coincide in one crucial point: the Areopagus acted without a mandate from the assembly; it corrected the ekklesia’s erroneous judgment without a procedural basis. So also Engels (1988a) 190–191. By contrast, see Wallace (1989a) 114. Schubert (2000). 238  Plutarch’s words (Demosthenes 14,4) speak a clear language: Demosthenes had single-­handedly brought Antiphon before the Areopagus after his acquittal by the ekklesia, without taking offence at acting against the decision of the assembly. Significantly, Plutarch estimates the Demosthenic conduct as “extremely aristocratic” (σφόδρα ἀριστοκρατικόν).  – That the rivalry between Demosthenes and Aeschines was decisive here is obvious, since in the same year (or a year before, 346) Demosthenes had accused Aeschines of treason regarding an embassy. Thus, the authority of both rhetors was also at stake here. 239  Plut. Phocion 16,3–4. Gehrke (1976) 61–63. 235

272

5  The Connection Between Socio-Economic and Political Elite

same milieu as those who advocated the election of Phocion, or whose members felt committed to Demosthenes, was able to steer the citizens’ assembly by virtue of its probouleutic function and its informal authority. While a hundred years earlier, around 460, the dispute over the weight of the Areopagus within the institutional structure had led to violent conflicts, now no resistance whatsoever was formed. For the Areopagus was not only regarded as the guardian of democracy, but the Athenians as a whole were able to agree on its expanded powers, since these were seen as relieving the burden on the demos, as increasing efficiency, founding the basis for decision-making, and ultimately as professionalizing majority decision-making.240 Nevertheless, there were apparently also cautious and critical voices, such as those of Eucrates, who proposed the law against tyranny.241 They saw that the connection of the new political elite with the Areopagus had an inherent destructive potential.242

 At the same time, this form of obtaining expert knowledge was inexpensive; the former archons did not receive any compensation for their expenses – a decisive factor that, according to Weber, contributed to the acceptance of a Honoratioren class. Weber (1922a) 508. 241  See the introduction to this chapter. 242  This certainly included Aeschines, who accused Demosthenes of oligarchic behavior (or. 3,220). 240

6

Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety of Weber’s Honoratioren

What would have happened if Sparta had given in to the demands of Corinth and Thebes in 404 and destroyed Athens?1 Even at that time there was still comparatively much wealth in private hands in Athens. The looting and enslavement of the population would not only have been a human tragedy. They would also have unbalanced the socio-political fabric of the Spartans2 and deprived the Attic economy of the financial, infrastructural and human resources necessary for trade and commerce. The consequences would have been the collapse of urban economic structures and urban exodus. Thus, however, although Athens had lost considerable revenue with the dissolution of the Delian League, the Athenian economy, especially the lucrative maritime trade, recovered relatively quickly. Accordingly, it was possible for the Athenians to engage in costly military ventures again after a few years. Whereas the members of the Second Athenian League had still contributed to the financing of the operations, after the Social War the responsibility for the remuneration of the armed forces was concentrated in the hands of the generals and the trierarchs. At the same time, dependence on the citizens obliged to conduct the liturgy grew in the religious sphere as well, as Athens abandoned its offensive pursuit of hegemony and festive culture gained additional importance as a point of reference for collective identity. With their contribution to the functioning of the community, the wealthy Athenians secured the gratitude of their fellow citizens. Since financial performance was morally anchored as a civic duty, the liturgies gained not only prestige but also a reputation for integrity. In this way, liturgies conveyed positive qualities that could be interpreted as leadership qualities. This connection between liturgies and generosity, probity, and a sense of responsibility could be used by liturgists to establish themselves as speakers and generate trust. But it required above all experience and competence to recommend oneself as an expert for the most important civil office.  Xen. hell. 2,2,19.  See also Sect. 3.3 note 151 above.

1 2

© Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Rohde, From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5_6

273

274

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

After the Social War, the commissioners of the theorika were involved in all processes, were not subject to the principle of annuity, and therefore accumulated knowledge. At the same time, the understanding of office also changed, in that the use of private means was tied to the fulfilment of certain tasks. These developments, which ran counter to earlier conditions, were hardly foreseeable for contemporaries. The changes fitted so organically into the existing institutional structure that to the author of the Athenaion Politeia the period between 403 and the 320s  – in contrast to the fifth century, which was marked by six metabolai  – seemed to be a political continuum.3 Such a view of the fourth century can only be explained if one assesses the fifty years between 461 and 411 as the period of the greatest missteps4 and positively evaluates decisions made by small bodies and individuals.5 Then the innovations of the fourth century can also appear as measures of improvement: Neither nomothesia nor Lycurgus’ high finance office nor the Areopagus’ extensions of competence thus found mention in the Athenaion Politeia.6 Moreover, democracy seemed more alive than ever before. For unlike the oligarchic coups of the fifth century, in which the demos had been demonstratively disenfranchised in each case, nothing was abolished, but something was added. At the same time, from the middle of the fourth century onwards, the invocation of the rhetoric of the common good developed a suggestive power, the sites of what were perceived as typically democratic institutions were monumentalized, and theorika were introduced. The Social War was thus the key event in the development of a new socio-­ economic elite, which was also able to successively steer political opinion-forming processes. But to what extent can these members of the elite be described as Honoratioren in Weber’s sense? According to Weber, Honoratioren are citizens whose wealth enables them to continuously be active in politics or administration without remuneration. As men of independent means, they have a greater chance of participating in the administration of the community than the less well-off, for whom the assumption of office is in fact more difficult. Did economic factors therefore determine political-administrative activity? After the reconstitution of democracy and the establishment of the old institutions, the council members and office-holders again received an allowance for their work. A short time later, the participants in the assembly were also to be remunerated. The proposal illustrates the Athenians’ self-image as a political community of equal citizens and the insight that participation in democratic institutions should be possible for all citizens through a financial allowance. Only the participation of as

 [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41. On the dating of the pseudo-Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia, see Rhodes (2017) 28–31, who assumes that the text was completed in the late 330s and revised in the first half of the 320s. 4  [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 41.2. 5  See Nebelin (2018) 130–136 for an assessment of democratic decision-making in the pseudoAristotelian Athenaion Politeia. 6  Rhodes (2017) 18–19 and 347 in the commentary on [Aristot.] Ath. pol. 43.1. – This is all the more remarkable because the author described in great detail the reform of the ephebia, which took place at about the same time ([Aristot.] Ath. pol. 42.2–5). 3

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

275

many citizens as possible in the political decision-making processes lent legitimacy to the process. At the same time, the introduction of the ekklesiastikos misthos can be interpreted as an indication that the Athenians needed an additional, extrinsic motivation to engage in the assembly for the polis.7 In contrast to the fifth century, one must now reckon with a mass of Athenians who turned up at the Pnyx to receive the misthos but who had little or no interest in actively participating in the discussion. For the proceedings, however, the inner attitude was irrelevant; the citizens present, whether engaged or apathetic, decided in favor of certain proposals on the basis of the competence conveyed, the trust they placed in the rhetor, the prestige of the speaker, and his ability, acquired through training, to link the ideas put forward to the common good. Accordingly, a further area of political activity emerged that was connected with expertise and that was equally indispensable for the functioning of democracy: well-informed and rhetorically skilled citizens had to submit proposals to the assembly, between which the ecclesiasts then decided. This was not a new phenomenon; what was new, however, was that in the fourth century the military and political fields diverged and the careers of generals and rhetors – with few exceptions – followed different paths. Whereas in the fifth century opinion leaders such as Pericles stood for election as military commanders, in the following century military experts generally no longer appeared before the assembly. The difference to the fifth century was the development of public finance, which in the course of the fourth century became more and more a separate field of political expertise. The so-called symmoria-speech of Demosthenes is significant. It is no coincidence that the still low profile rhetor chose foreign policy and revenue generation to commend himself to the assembly. The speech contains organizational details that cannot be grasped in all their detail by mere listening – even with the ekklesia’s capacity for absorbing information, which can be optimistically estimated. They make clear how one speaker sought to acquire a reputation as an expert. His complicated proposals for the reform of the symmories and thus the reorganization of the trierarchic system testify to the fact that it was only possible for full-time specialists to familiarize themselves adequately – and that means competitively – with the subject area of public finances; moreover, only those trained in rhetoric could present their complex proposals convincingly. This was impossible for financially indispensable citizens, so that the knowledge gap widened between the majority of the assembly participants and those who actively engaged in the debate; ultimately, the main mass of citizens was excluded from the opportunity to make qualified contributions to the discussion. Questions of political design therefore shifted from public discussion to a (permeable) circle of the privileged. This development was seriously accelerated from Eubulus onwards, in that – at about the same time as the Demosthenic speech on the symmories – a new office was created. The commissioner of the theoric fund was a financial expert who did not perform purely administrative tasks like the officials drawn by lot and therefore  The lack of commitment of his fellow citizens was already criticized by Aristophanes again and again in his comedies. Spielvogel (2001) 188. 7

276

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

formed the civil counterpart to the general’s office. He held the office for four years, participated in all financial transactions, and attained a position of influence not subject to any prohibition of iteration. He possessed constitutional power only in a narrowly defined sphere of responsibility; his de facto influence was based primarily on charismatic speech, with which he directed deliberation in the boule and ekklesia. By perpetuating his position, he was able to accumulate and thus monopolize experiential knowledge almost without competition. All formative politicians of the second half of the fourth century held this office. At the same time, the understanding of other public functions was also changing. At the latest from the early 330s, i.e. about fifteen years later, public officials were expected to subsidize the task for which they had been appointed; if possible, they were not to receive any money at all from the public purse. The same thing had to be done de facto even before then by strategoi, who were usually sent to war without sufficient funds. This way, the boundary between public and private finances became blurred, as had long been the custom in the legation system. This development was structurally linked to the public honoring of public officials in a highly publicized act. In doing so, honoring office holders implemented the obligation not to use the amounts provided by the polis. Thus, it was clear that even if, in theory, public funds were supposed to guarantee that every citizen could assume such an office, in practice economic resources limited the circle of potential candidates. This process can be described as the liturgization of offices. A little later, Demetrius of Phalerum transformed liturgies such as the choregy into offices, so that offices and liturgies gradually converged. By 336 at the latest, when Ctesiphon applied to have Demosthenes crowned for his financial munificence as a magistrate before his official euthyna, and Demosthenes was proved right in the famous trial on the crown in 330, the point of no return had been reached. Two principles had been set aside with momentous consequences: (1) Demosthenes was to receive a crown before his official discharge, so that here is announced what was later to become custom: The control of office-holders through accountability degenerated into a formality. (2) The crown was not to be presented, as was customary, before the body that had decided on the honor, but in the theater: this brought home to all citizens and non-citizens the expectation that an office-holder should expend private funds for his activity. This social pressure, built up by the increased publicity, subsequently became entrenched, even though the polis officially continued to provide public funds. Accordingly, the second half of the fourth century saw the formation of three types of office: In addition to the regular offices and administrative tasks, such as attending the assembly, serving on the council or as a juror, and other, non-technical administrative functions, there were influential financial offices that could only be assumed with the appropriate expertise and time commitment. Thus, on the one hand, the less well-off were not in principle excluded from taking office, but access was in fact more difficult for them. On the other hand, men of independent means had a greater chance of taking on such a time-intensive activity. In the same way, economic resources were a prerequisite for holding offices that entailed costs, so that the scope for selecting persons was also narrowed in the case of the third type of office, the “liturgical” offices. The economic elite recommended itself for the assumption of such positions through its lifestyle related to the community, which it demonstrated by performing

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

277

liturgies. At the same time, financial contributions to the community constituted a reciprocal relationship between the public sphere of the polis and the liturgy, which necessitated gratitude in the form of honors and social prestige in return. Liturgies thus conveyed prestige and reputation for acting in public interest and in accordance with the civic ideal – qualities that created trust and enabled a politician to succeed. It is therefore not surprising that all the formative politicians of Athens in the fourth century are also known as liturgies. As men of independent means, they had the appropriate time and resources to optimize their rhetorical skills, immerse themselves in complex matters, and demonstrate their community-based leadership qualities through financial achievements. Accordingly, political and socioeconomic elites merged whose influence was not based on formal power structures but on trust, prestige, and expert knowledge; members of this elite thus influenced decisions relevant to the community not on the basis of institutions but on the basis of their authority. The point in time at which the development was no longer reversible is marked by the Antiphon episode in the year 340, when the Areopagus, at the agitation of Demosthenes, repealed a decision of the assembly. Thus a member of the socio-­ political elite had succeeded in influencing a body in his own sense in such a way that even the totality of the citizens had to bow to this decision.8 The competition of institutions and the alliance of orator and Areopagus may have formed only an isolated case, but it shows what was possible. Thus all the criteria that Weber named as characteristics of the Honoratioren were fulfilled: a socio-political, economically defined elite that, thanks to its prestige and knowledge advantage, was able to steer the decisions of the political community in its own sense. The Athenian Honoratioren were able to fit seamlessly into the democratic constitution. Their special status, their honor, was based on their financial and administrative commitment to the polis community, which is why their identification with the polis was stronger than with those who belonged to the same social and economic milieu. The competence elite did not differ fundamentally from their fellow citizens in lifestyle, social values, or political views. Their position was based on honor, prestige and expertise and had to be earned again and again through performance. Moreover, their prosperity was fed by a wide variety of sources of income, so that no specific economic group interest with a corresponding class consciousness suited them. Rather, they formed an inclusive rather than an exclusive stratum: a population group that defined itself on the basis of economic, social, and educational characteristics, possessed permeable boundaries, had greater opportunities to influence decisionmaking processes, but did not develop a specific sense of “we”. Given the cohesion of the citizenry, the Athenian Honoratioren thus did not form a structural minority.9

 Here, too, developments going back a long way can be named, such as the nomothesia procedure, the graphe paranomon or the graphe nomon me epitedeion theinai. By means of these procedures, individual speakers could have decisions of the assembly annulled. The difference, however, is that in the Antiphon affair the legitimate procedure was not followed: the Areopagus did not act on the initiative of the ekklesia, but at the instigation of Demosthenes. 9  According to Flaig (2013a) 154 at 254, a structural minority as a value-based community threatens democracy based on majority rule. The structural minority is hemmed in by the cohesion of the citizenry. 8

278

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

Accordingly, the economic elite was able to transform its personal and monetary contributions to the polis into social esteem and political influence within a civic community based on equality, without the basic consensus of society as a whole breaking down. The reason can be seen in the high degree of cohesion that also resulted from the material obligation relationship between the citizens, especially between the wealthier and the less wealthy. Unlike in Sparta, where all Spartiates had to pay the same contribution to the syssitia as a sign of their equality, the Athenian system of levies was based on the democratic principle of ability to pay; everyone was to pay a corresponding contribution according to their possessions. In other words, from 378/7 onwards, 95 percent of the citizens did not have to pay any warrelated levy; the remaining Athenians were expected to take a share of the eisphora in proportion to their wealth. In addition, these five percent also paid all the liturgia. The functioning of the polis was thus based in large part on the willingness of the economic elite to make their property available to the community – not least for the sake of social pacification. The Athenian citizenry had made itself financially dependent on the private resources of wealthy fellow citizens; the only way out would have been to lower the community’s claims – but that was no longer a real option. Since not only the wealthiest five percent bore the lion’s share of public costs, but since monetary payments were also derived from the understanding of the polis as a community of fate, the Athenian system of levies amounted to a redistribution. In addition to the financial support of war orphans and adynatoi, from about 350 onwards two further institutions were established that represented a significant gain, especially for poorer Athenians: the distribution of theorika and the securing of grain supplies. On the occasion of the Great Dionysia and the Panathenaea, theorika were issued to secure admission for all citizens to events in the theater. Even though the theorika were contextualized with the two most elaborate Attic festivals, they were not surrounded by any sacral aura: In fact, they represented the citizens’ participation in the surpluses; in Athenian discourse, on the other hand, they were enshrined as public grants to the poor population. Similarly, the distribution of grain was communicated as support for those in need. An adequate supply of grain had always been one of the most principal tasks of the polis. Towards the end of the fourth century, however, it became customary to distribute grain free of charge as sitonia. To this end, donations were solicited from wealthy citizens (and non-­ citizens). The institution of the epidoseis for the purchase of grain harnessed an aristocratic habitus: wealth obligated and compelled the propertied to a certain solicitude toward those who could hoard little or no surplus. In this way, the democratic claim of solidarity among themselves was combined with a duty of care on the part of the wealthy toward the less privileged. Athenian Honoratioren were thus bound to the polis. Their position was fundamentally dependent on the existing social order; they had to have an interest in preserving it. In this – and only in this – sense they were conservative. Accordingly, no signs of political disintegration can be identified that resulted from a dissent of elite and subelite: What is striking is the coincidence of the genesis of the Honoratiorenschaft and the dominance of the discourse of democracy, which from the middle of the fourth century emphasized democratic institutions even more

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

279

vehemently than before and determined how society was to function. The Athenians expended enormous resources on monuments that were considered typically democratic. Public buildings were renewed on the agora, the Theater of Dionysus received a monumental expansion, and the meeting place of the assembly on the Pnyx was massively enlarged. There is nothing to indicate that the Athenian citizen resigned or did not see himself represented in the political system – not least because the economic situation of the less well-off developed positively. The projects, which were pushed forward with great effort, meant lucrative opportunities for a multitude of occupational groups, so that even the artisan population of Attica saw no reason to withdraw their consent to the political order. The distribution of free grain and the theorika further contributed to this. Therefore, the festival pay could be called the “glue of democracy”,10 which, taken literally, is nonsense: a constitutional form does not consist of several parts and therefore cannot be joined together – but a community (koinon) can. Accordingly, behind this formulation, originating from Demades at the end of the fourth century, was the idea that the spending of sums on the occasion of festivals significant for Athenian identity was fundamental for the cohesion of the heterogeneous citizenry11; here ideology was produced. This implies, however, that by democracy was meant not only a political constitution but a way of living together that would be equally beneficial to all citizens. “Democracy” had become a code word for civil closeness and concord. Thus, democracy had changed in content in the last third of the fourth century, in that the term was expanded and adapted to new parameters. But this means nothing else than to re-semantize demokratia. Therefore, Aristotle could also consider democracy compatible with a minor census, if it was set low enough to allow the majority to participate in government. In such a democracy, Aristotle argued, only the wealthy could hold office, while the rest of the citizenry, however, exercised control over officeholders.12 From there, it was not far to associate democracy with any form of legal rule, as was then the case in the Hellenistic period.13 The fourth century thus saw neither a creeping decay of the polis nor a revolutionary act, but a gradual transformation, accelerating from the middle of the century onwards, into an democracy  of Honoratioren. In principle, the symbiosis between the competence elite and the demos had already been inherent in Athenian democracy in the fifth century, which had always succeeded in politically integrating the socio-economic elite. Now the structure had changed to such an extent that

 Demades ap. Plut. mor. 1011b .  See also Flaig (2013a) on the importance of festive culture as supplementary integration rituals that strengthened the cohesion of the citizenry and counteracted the emergence of structural minorities. 12  Aristot. pol. 1318 b 22–23. cf. Ottmann (2001) 207. 13  Already Holleaux (1938–1957) III 153 note 1 recognized that the concept of democracy expanded in the Hellenistic period in such a way that it could now already refer more to external and internal freedom (eleutheria and autonomia). For this reason Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926) I 439 were also able to speak of democracy as a koine of the Hellenistic constitutions. 10 11

280

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

large parts of the population were in fact excluded from discussion in the assembly and from holding certain offices. The Athenian Honoratioren observed the institutionally anchored procedures and thus secured legitimacy for their actions – much more: by not shaking the institutional structure, the socio-political elite opened up room for manoeuvre to use informal structures to consolidate their exposed position. The development had reached a point of no return in the 330s; the census under Phocion or Demetrius of Phalerum solidified the already existing structures. The restoration of democracy with the abolition of the census – but without reintroducing the misthoi – no longer made much difference in the end. What was essential was that the Athenian Honoratioren  democracy  at the end of the fourth century formed a system of acceptance in which struggles for position within the elite continued to be fought out on the open stage of the ekklesia or the courts, and in which the Honoratioren had to win their approval over and over again at the demos. The competence elite therefore did not form an oligarchy and could not simply do as it pleased; its proposals were sometimes rejected by the assembly.14 Three factors contributed to the widespread endorsement of de facto political inequalities: First, the discourse of democracy continued to dominate, and even strengthened, even as the understanding of democracy had changed. Accordingly, the old institutions continued to function and create procedural legitimacy.15 Crucially, although what was considered useful for the civic community was supported by all citizens by majority vote, it was those interpretations that only a few experts still fed into the discourse as the common good. To this end, there was no  Therefore, Michels’ (1911) “iron law of oligarchy” is not confirmed: In his book dedicated to Max  Weber, the sociologist of organization puts forward a theory of elites. The core thesis is: democratically elected leading elites successively use their power to enforce their own interests. In doing so, they make use of the complexity of the organization, the structures based on the division of labor with a hierarchy of offices, and the bureaucratic apparatus that is no longer transparent to members without a function. This results in a competence advantage of the elite, which thus makes itself indispensable. Indeed, in some respects his elite theory seems to be confirmed, such as the competence advantage of the elite, which articulates political will and thus exerts influence. Likewise, the increasing specialization of political fields and the process of social closure of the socio-political elite fit into Michels’ argument. However, the objections outweigh the arguments: the Athenian demos was not a de-individualized mass incapable of forming a will, which degenerated into a plaything of the elite. Professional politicians were never able to detach themselves from the rest of the citizenry, since, on the one hand, political influence was always tied to the person and, on the other, the competition between speakers counteracted homogenizing tendencies. The Athenian Honoratioren had to demonstrate time and again through their behavior that they were simultaneously citizens, experts, and advisors in one person and were not pursuing personal interests alone. In doing so, they depended on constant exchange before and with the assembly, which at the same time exercised control over the Honoratioren. Moreover, self-government and self-organization remained alongside the offices with competence. An intransparent bureaucracy as a form of rule could not develop because, among other things, there was no hierarchy of offices and transparency of processes was required. 15  Procedural legitimacy as a hallmark of democracy was invoked by Aeschines (3:2–6) in his speech Against Ctesiphon, denouncing the dominance of individual orators  – meaning Demosthenes. Accordingly, procedural legitimacy was regarded as a high good that distinguished the legitimate constitution from an illegitimate one called tyranny or oligarchy. Cf. E. M. Harris (2013), who, with reference to Aeschin. 1:4, emphasizes the role of laws as bulwarks of democracy. 14

6  Conclusion: The Formation of a Competence Elite as an Athenian Variety…

281

need to abolish free speech as an essential component of democracy; it was still considered a high value – and perhaps precisely for this reason.16 Second, there was no dissent between the elite and the sub-elite, since alternative means of identification, such as the great festivals, existed alongside the political field, while subsistence was assured by the grain supply. Moreover, the members of the elite could positively legitimize themselves by using their financial and time resources as well as their expertise for the community. Third, Honoratioren did not form a class that distinguished itself from other segments of the population, but rather an inclusive stratum, characterized by the possibility of social mobility and an orientation towards the common good. Other poleis adapted this Athenian model of consensus-based Honoratioren democracy when the socio-political elite was also able to use room for manoeuvre within the political system and at the same time communicate the power-political shifts as improvements to the traditional order. In such a constellation, communal structures proved elastic and interpretable. It was fundamental to ensure participation in such political institutions whose very existence was equated with the constitution and which could develop a symbolic meaning beyond factual power. Only if it did not mean a loss of identity to no longer be actively involved in the actual process of will formation could the feeling arise that one did not belong to the losers but to the winners of development. This required economic, social or cultural compensation possibilities in order to generate a positive self-image despite the loss of power and to know that one was in agreement with the other members of the community. If one now places oneself in Athens in the last third of the fourth century and looks at the Pnyx as well as the choragic monuments, one no longer sees a contradiction between democracy and Honoratioren, but symbols of a consensual relationship of honor, prosperity, and civic community. Precisely because the Athenians knew that internal tensions remained a permanent phenomenon, the harmonious agreement of citizens became the leitmotif of political culture, as Demosthenes had formulated it at the time in preparation for a possible war against the Persian king.17 Consensus may mean the end of true deliberation,18 but it seemed better suited for a political community to assert itself in a world with overwhelming external threats.

 Significantly, a trireme that appears in the trierarch list of the period between 336/5 and 331/0 (IG II2 1624 col. b l. 81) was called Parrhesia. The case is worth mentioning because such programmatic names are rarer than one might suppose. Comparable would be the names Demokratia and Eleutheria in the list of trierarchs from the year 357/6 (IG II2 1611 col. b l. 86–87). Cf. the list in Jordan (1975) 277. 17  Demosth. or. 14,15: “For you will notice, men of Athens, that whenever you have collectively formed some project, [...] nothing has ever escaped your grasp.” 18  Flaig (2013a) 301. 16

Bibliography

Acton (2014) P. H. Acton: Poiesis. Manufacturing in Classical Athens, Oxford/New York 2014. Adak (2003) M. Adak: Metöken als Wohltäter Athens. Untersuchungen zum sozialen Austausch zwischen ortsansässigen Fremden und der Bürgergemeinde in klassischer und hellenistischer Zeit (ca. 500–150 v. Chr.), Quellen und Forschungen zur antiken Welt 40, München 2003. Adcock (1932) F. E. Adcock: Alcidas ἀργυρολόγος, in: FS Glotz, Paris 1932, 1–6. Adcock/Mosley (1975) F. E. Adcock/D. J. Mosley: Diplomacy in Ancient Greece, London 1975. Adkins (1960) A. W. H. Adkins: Merit and Responsibility. A Study in Greek Values, Chicago 1960. Agelidis (2009) S.  Agelidis: Choregische Weihgeschenke in Griechenland, Contributiones Bonnenses III 1, Bonn 2009. Akrigg (2007) B.  Akrigg: The Nature and Implications of Athens’ changed Social Structure and Economy, in: R. Osborne (ed.): Debating the Athenian Cultural Revolution, Cambridge 2007, 27–43. Akrigg (2011) B. Akrigg: Demography and Classical Athens, in: C. Holleran/A. Pudsey (eds.): Demography and the Graeco-Roman World, Cambridge/New York 2011, 37–59. Alemdar (2000) S. Alemdar: Le monument de Lysicrate et son trépied, Ktèma 25 (2000), 199–206. Aleshire (1989) S. B. Aleshire: The Athenian Asklepieion. The People, Their Dedications, and the Inventories, Amsterdam 1989. Aleshire (1994) S. B. Aleshire: Towards a Definition of ‘State Cult’ for Ancient Athens, in: R. Hägg (ed.): Ancient Greek Cult Practice from the Epigraphical Evidence, Stockholm 1994, 9–16. Alessandrì (1980) S. Alessandrì: IG II2, 140. Una proposta di lettura, ASNP 10 (1980), 1131–1161. Alexiou (2014) E. Alexiou: Die Rhetorik des 4. Jahrhunderts, in: B. Zimmermann/A. Rengakos (eds.): Handbuch der griechischen Literatur der Antike, vol. 2: Die Literatur der klassischen und hellenistischen Zeit, München 2014, 734–859. Allison (1984) J. W. Allison: Sthenelaidas’ Speech: Thucydides 1.86, Hermes 112 (1984), 9–16. Alston (2008) R. Alston: Introduction, in: R. Alston/O. van Nijf (eds.): Feeding the Ancient Greek City, Leuven 2008, 3–15. Altmann/Falk/Marklein (2011) S.  Altmann/A.  Falk/F.  Marklein: Eingeschränkt rationales Verhalten. Evidenz und Implikationen, in: H.  Fleischer/D.  Zimmer (eds.): Beitrag der Verhaltensökonomie (Behavioral Economics) zum Handels- und Wirtschaftsrecht, Frankfurt a. M. 2011, 63–82. Amandry (1976) P. Amandry: Trépieds d’Athènes. I. Dionysies, BCH 100 (1976), 2–93. Amandry (1977) P. Amandry: Trépieds d’Athènes. II. Thargélies, BCH 101 (1977), 165–202. Amandry (1997) P. Amandry: Monuments chorégiques d’Athènes, BCH 121 (1997), 445–487. Ameling (1998) W. Ameling: Landwirtschaft und Sklaverei im klassischen Attika, HZ 266 (1998), 281–315. Amemiya (2007) T.  Amemiya: Economy and Economics of Ancient Greece, Routledge Explorations in Economic History 33, London/New York 2007. Ampolo (1979) C. Ampolo: Oikonomia. Tre osservazioni sui rapporti tra la finanza e l’economia greca, AION(archeol) 1 (1979), 119–130. © Springer-Verlag GmbH Germany, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Rohde, From Deliberative Democracy to Consent Democracy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-476-05921-5

283

284

Bibliography

Ampolo (1994) C. Ampolo: Tra empòria ed emporìa. Note sul commercio greco in età arcaica e classica, Annali di archeologia e storia antica 1 (1994), 29–36. Ampolo (2000) C. Ampolo: I terreni sacri nel mondo Greco in età arcaica e classica, in: E. Lo Cascio/D. W. Rathbone (eds.): Production and Public Powers in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge 2000, 14–19. Anastasiadis (2013) V. I. Anastasiadis: Interest and Self-Interest in Ancient Athens, Spudasmata 151, Hildesheim/Zürich 2013. Anderson (1961) J. K. Anderson: Ancient Greek Horsemanship, Berkeley 1961. Anderson (1963) J. K. Anderson: The Statue of Chabrias, AJA 67 (1963), 411–413. Anderson (1970) J. K. Anderson: Military Theory and Practice in the Age of Xenophon, Berkeley/ Los Angeles 1970. Anderson (1974) J. K. Anderson: Xenophon, London 1974. Andreades (1931) A.  M. Andreades: Geschichte der griechischen Staatswirtschaft. Von der Heroenzeit bis zur Schlacht bei Chaironeia, München 1931 (reprint Hildesheim 1965). Andreau (1977) J. Andreau: M. I. Finley, la banque antique et l’économie modern, ASNP 7 (1977), 1130–1152. Andreau (2002) J.  Andreau: Twenty Years after Moses I.  Finley’s The Ancient Economy, in: W. Scheidel/S. von Reden (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Edinburgh 2002, 33–49. J. V. Andreev (1975) J. V. Andreev: Sparta als Typ einer Polis, Klio 57 (1975), 73–82. V. N. Andreev (1983) V. N. Andreev: Zur Kontinuität der Vermögenselite Athens vom 5. bis 3. Jahrhundert v. u. Z. Die Entstehung großer Vermögen in Athen im 5./4. Jahrhundert v. u. Z., JWG 1 (1983), 137–158. Andreoni (1989) J. Andreoni: Giving with impure altruism: Applications to charity and Ricardian equivalence, Journal of Political Economy 97 (1989), 1447–1458. Andreoni (1990) J. Andreoni: Impure altruism and donations to public goods: A theory of warm-­ glow giving?, The Economic Journal 100 (1990), 464–477. Andrewes (1938) A. Andrewes: Eunomia, CQ 32 (1938), 89–102. Andreyev (1974) V. N. Andreyev: Some Aspects of Agrarian Conditions in Attica in the Fifth to Third Centuries B. C., Eirene 12 (1974), 5–46. Antenhofer (2010) C. Antenhofer: Einleitung, in: C. Antenhofer/L. Regazzoni/A. von Schlachta (eds.): Werkstatt Politische Kommunikation, Göttingen 2010, 229–238. G. G. Aperghis (1997/8) G. G. Aperghis: A Reassessment of the Laureion Mining Records, BICS 42 (1997/8), 1–21. G.  G. Aperghis (2013) G.  G. Aperghis: Athenian Mines, Coin and Triremes, Historia 62 (2013), 1–24. M.  Aperghis (2001) M.  Aperghis: Population  – Production  – Taxation  – Coinage, in: Z. H. Archibald/J. K. Davies/G. J. Oliver/V. Gabrielsen (eds.): Hellenistic Economies, London/ New York 2001, 69–102. Apostolakis (2006) K.  Apostolakis: The Rhetoric of an Antidosis. [D.] 42 Against Phaenippus, Ariadne 12 (2006), 93–112. Archibald (2013) Z.  H. Archibald: Ancient Economies of the Northern Aegean. Fifth to First Centuries BC, Oxford 2013. Archibald (2005) Z. H. Archibald: Markets and Exchange: The Structure and Scale of Economic Behaviour in the Hellenistic Age, in: Z. H. Archibald/J. K. Davies/V. Gabrielsen (eds.): Making, Moving and Managing, Oxford 2005, 1–26. J. I. Armstrong (1949) J. I. Armstrong: The Trierarchy and the Tribal Organization of the Athenian Navy, Diss. Princeton University 1949. J. E. Armstrong/Camp (1977) J. E. Armstrong/J. M. Camp: Notes on a Water Clock in the Athenian Agora, Hesperia 46 (1977), 147–161. Asheri (1963) D. Asheri: Laws of Inheritance, Distribution of Land, and Political Constitutions in Ancient Greece, Historia 12 (1963), 1–21. Asheri (1966) D. Asheri: Distribuzioni di terre nell’antica Grecia, MAT10, Torino 1966. Ashton (1977) N. G. Ashton: The Naumachia near Amorgos in 322 B. C., ABSA72 (1977), 1–11.

Bibliography

285

Asmonti (2015) L. Asmonti: Conon the Athenian. Warfare and Politics in the Aegean, 414–386 B. C., Historia ES 235, Stuttgart 2015. Auberger (2010) J. Auberger: Manger en Grèce classique. La nourriture, ses plaisirs et ses contraintes, Québec 2010. Audring (1974a) G. Audring: Grenzen der Konzentration von Grundeigentum in Attika während des 4. Jh. v. u. Z., Klio 56 (1974), 445–456. Audring (1974b) G. Audring: Über Grundeigentum und Landwirtschaft in der Krise der athenischen Polis, in: E. C. Welskopf (ed.): Hellenische Poleis, Darmstadt 1974, 108–131. Audring (1978) G.  Audring: Xenophon, Über die Einkünfte. Aus dem Griechischen übersetzt, JWG19 (1978), 241–254. Audring (1989) G.  Audring: Zur Struktur des Territoriums griechischer Poleis in archaischer Zeit (nach den schriftlichen Quellen), Schriften zur Geschichte und Kultur der Antike 29, Berlin 1989. Audring (2012) G. Audring: Wie kann man Xenophons Schrift über die Staatseinkünfte (Poroi) gerecht werden?, in: P. Seele (ed.): Ökonomie, Politik und Ethik in der praktischen Philosophie der Antike, Berlin/Boston 2012, 15–28. Austin (1994) M.  Austin: Society and Economy, in: D.  M. Lewis/J.  Boardman/S.  Hornblower/ M. Ostwald (eds.): The Fourth Century B. C., Cambridge 1994, 527–591. Austin/Vidal-Naquet (1984) M.  Austin/P.  Vidal-Naquet: Gesellschaft und Wirtschaft im alten Griechenland, München 1984. Avramović (1997) S. Avramović: Iseo e il diritto attico, Diáphora 4, Napoli 1997. Axelrod (1984) R.  M. Axelrod: The Evolution of Cooperation (1984), revised edition, New York 2006. Azoulay (2011) V. Azoulay: Les métamorphoses du koinon athénien: autour du Contre Léocrate de Lycurgue, in: V.  Azoulay/P.  Ismard (eds.): Clisthène et Lycurgue d’Athènes, Paris 2011, 191–217. Badian (1995) E. Badian: The Ghost of Empire. Reflections on Athenian Foreign Policy in the Fourth Century BC, in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 79–106. Badian (2000) E.  Badian: The Road to Prominence, in: I.  Worthington (ed.): Demosthenes. Statesman and Orator, London 2000, 9–44. Baeck (1997) L.  Baeck: Greek Economic Thought. Initiators of a Mediterranean Tradition, in: B. B. Price (ed.): Ancient Economic Thought, London/New York 1997, 146–171. Baecker (2009) D. Baecker: Die Sache mit der Führung, Wien 2009. Bagnasco (2004) A. Bagnasco: Trust and Social Capital, in: K. Nash/A. Scott (eds.): The Blackwell Companion to Political Sociology, Malden 2004, 230–239. Baker (1999) P. Baker: Les Mercenaires, in: F. Probst (ed.): Armées et sociétes de la Grèce classique, Paris 1999, 240–255. Bakewell (1999) G. Bakewell: Lysias 12 and Lysias 31: Metics and Athenian Citizenship in the Aftermath of the Thirty, GRBS 40 (1999), 5–22. Bakewell (2008) G. Bakewell: Tierarchs’ Records and the Athenian Naval Catalogue (IG i3 1032), in: E. A. Mackay (ed.): Orality, Literacy, Memory in the Ancient Greek and Roman World, Leiden 2008, 143–162. Ballin (1978) T. N. Ballin: ACommentary on [Demosthenes] 50, Against Polykles, Diss. University of Washington 1978. Baloglou (2008) C.  P. Baloglou: Wirtschaft und Technologie im antiken Griechenland, Marburg 2008. Baloglou/Constantinidis (1993) C.  P. Baloglou/A.  Constantinidis: Die Wirtschaft in der Gedankenwelt der alten Griechen, Frankfurt a. M. 1993. Balot (2010) R. K. Balot: Democratizing Courage in Classical Athens, in: D. M. Pritchard (ed.): War, Democracy and Culture in Classical Athens, Cambridge 2010, 88–108. Balot (2014) R. K. Balot: Courage in the Democratic Polis. Ideology and Critique in Classical Athens, New York 2014. Baltrusch (2010) E. Baltrusch: Sparta. Geschichte, Gesellschaft, Kultur, München 2010.

286

Bibliography

Banfi (2010) A.  Banfi: Sovranità della legge. La legislazione di Demetrio del Falero ad Atene (317–307 a.C.), Pubblicazioni del Dipartimento di Diritto Privato e Storia del Diritto, Sezione di Diritto Romano e Diritti dell’Antichità, Università degli Studi di Milano 45, Milano 2010. Barley/Pretzler (2017) N.  Barley/M.  Pretzler (eds.): Brill’s Companion to Aineias Tacticus, Leiden/Boston 2017. Barnes (2006) C. L. H. Barnes: The Ferries of Tenedos, Historia 55 (2006), 167–177. Batson (1998) C. D. Batson: Altruism and Prosocial Behavior, in: D. T. Gilbert/S. T. Fiske/G. Lindzey (eds.): The Handbook of Social Psychology, New York 1998, 282–316. Bauer (1977) H. Bauer: Lysikratesdenkmal. Baubestand und Rekonstruktion, MDAI(A) 92 (1977), 197–227. Bayliss (2013) A. J. Bayliss: Oaths of Office, in: A. H. Sommerstein/A. J. Bayliss/L. A. Kozak (eds.): Oath and state in ancient Greece, Berlin 2013, 33–46. Bearzot (2007) C.  Bearzot: Vivere da democratici. Studi su Lisia e la democrazia ateniese, Roma 2007. Bearzot (2015) C. Bearzot: La città e gli orfani, in: U. Roberto/P. A. Tuci (eds.): Tra marginalità e integrazione, Milano 2015, 9–31. Beck (1997) H.  Beck: Polis und Koinon. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte und Struktur der griechischen Bundesstaaten im 4. Jhdt. v. Chr., Historia ES 114, Stuttgart 1997. Behrend (1970) D. Behrend: Attische Pachturkunden, Vestigia 12, München 1970. Beloch (1879) J. Beloch: Die Nauarchie in Sparta, RhM 34 (1879), 117–130. Beloch (1884a) J. Beloch: Die attische Politik seit Perikles, Leipzig (reprint Darmstadt 1967). Beloch (1884b) J.  Beloch: Zur Finanzgeschichte Athens. IV.  Der Richtersold, RhM 39 (1884), 239–259. Beloch (1885) J. Beloch: Das Volksvermögen von Attika, Hermes 20 (1885), 237–261. Beloch (1886) J. Beloch: Die Bevölkerung der griechisch-römischen Welt, Leipzig 1886 (reprint Roma 1968). Beloch (1893–1904) J. Beloch: Griechische Geschichte, 3 vols., Strassburg 1893–1904. Beloch (1906) J. Beloch: Griechische Aufgebote II, Klio 6 (1906), 34–78. Bengtson (1962) H. Bengtson: Die griechische Polis bei Aineias, Historia 11 (1962), 458–468. Bengtson (1975) H.  Bengtson: Die Staatsverträge des Altertums. Die Verträge der griechisch-­ römischen Welt von 700 bis 338 v. Chr. Die Verträge der griechisch-römischen Welt von 700 bis 338 v. Chr., München 1975. Bentz (1998) M. Bentz: Panathenäische Preisamphoren: Eine athenische Vasengattung und ihre Funktion vom 6.–4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., AntK Beihefte 18, Basel 1998. Beresford (2013) J. Beresford: The Ancient Sailing Season, History and Archaeology of Classical Antiquity 351, Boston 2013. Berggold (2011) W. Berggold: Studien zu den minderberechtigten Gruppen in Sparta, Berlin 2011. Berghoff/Vogel (2004) H.  Berghoff/J.  Vogel: Wirtschaftsgeschichte als Kulturgeschichte. Ansätze zur Bergung transdisziplinärer Synergiepotentiale, in: H.  Berghoff/J.  Vogel (eds.): Wirtschaftsgeschichte als Kulturgeschichte, Frankfurt a. M./New York 2004, 9–41. Bernhardt (2012) J. Bernhardt: Rhetorische Strategie und politischer Standpunkt bei Hypereides, Hermes 140 (2012), 263–283. Berthiaume (1976) G.  Berthiaume: Citoyens spécialistes à Sparte. Réponse à R.  T. Ridley, Mnemosyne 29 (1976), 360–364. Bertrand (2005) J.-M.  Bertrand: s.v. liturgie (Grèce), in: J.  Leclant (ed.): Dictionnaire de l’Antiquité, Paris 2005, 1267. Bethold (1980) R. M. Bethold: Fourth Century Rhodes, Historia 29 (1980), 32–49. Beutelspacher (2009) A. Beutelspacher: Kryptologie. Eine Einführung in die Wissenschaft vom Verschlüsseln, Verbergen und Verheimlichen, Wiesbaden 2009. Bianchi (2005) E.  Bianchi: The Law of Eukrates (336 B.  C.): A“Democratic Trick”?, Historia antigua 23 (2005), 313–330. Bianco (2000) E. Bianco: Chabrias Atheniensis, RSA 30 (2000), 47–72. Bingen (1958) J. Bingen: ΤΡΙΕΤΙΡΗΣ. (IGV1, 1120), AC 27 (1958), 105–107.

Bibliography

287

Birgalias (2002) N. Birgalias: Helotage and Spartan Social Organization, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta Beyond the Mirage, Swansea 2002, 249–266. Bissa (2009) E. M. A. Bissa: Governmental Intervention in Foreign Trade in Archaic and Classical Greece, Mnemosyne Suppl. 312, Leiden 2009. Blank (2014) T. Blank: Logos und Praxis. Sparta als politisches Exemplum in den Schriften des Isokrates, Klio Beihefte 23, Berlin 2014. Blank (2018) T.  Blank: Innere Kritiker und welche Umwelt? Intellektuelle zwischen Dissidenz und Systemstabilisierung im Athen des 4. Jahrhunderts, in: I.  Jordović/U.  Walter (eds.): Feindbild und Vorbild. Die athenische Demokratie und ihre intellektuellen Gegner, HZ Beiheft 74, Berlin/Boston 2018, 73–108. Blankart (2012) C. B. Blankart: Öffentliche Finanzen in der Demokratie. Eine Einführung in die Finanzwissenschaft, München 2012. Blanshard, A. J. L. (2004) Blanshard, A. J. L.: Depicting Democracy: an Exploration of Art and Text in the Law of Eukrates, JHS 124 (2004), 1–15. Blass (1887–1898) F. Blass: Die attische Beredsamkeit, 4 vols., Leipzig 1887–1898. Bleckmann (1993) B. Bleckmann: Sparta und seine Freunde im Dekeleischen Krieg. Zur Datierung von IGV1,1, ZPE 96 (1993), 297–308. Bleckmann (1998) B.  Bleckmann: Athens Weg in die Niederlage. Die letzten Jahre des Peloponnesischen Kriegs, Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 99, Stuttgart/Leipzig 1998. Bleicken (1987) J. Bleicken: Die Einheit der athenischen Demokratie in klassischer Zeit, Hermes 115 (1987), 257–283. Bleicken (1995) J. Bleicken: Die athenische Demokratie, 4th edition, Paderborn 1995. Blintliff (2008) J. Blintliff: Considerations on Agricultural Scale-Economies in the Greco-Roman World, in: R. Alston/O. van Nijf (eds.): Feeding the Ancient Greek City, Leuven 2008, 17–31. Bloch (2004) D. Bloch: The Date of Xenophon’s Poroi, C&M 55 (2004), 5–16. Bloedow (1981) E. F. Bloedow: The Speeches of Archidamus and Stenelaidas at Sparta, Historia 30 (1981), 129–143. Bloedow (1983) E. F. Bloedow: Archidamus the ‘Intelligent’ Spartan, Klio 65 (1983), 27–49. Bloedow (1987) E. F. Bloedow: Sthenelaidas the Persuasive Spartan, Hermes 115 (1987), 60–66. Bloedow (2000) E.  F. Bloedow: Spartan Naval Command. From Secretary to ‘Vice-Admiral’, Scholia 9 (2000), 12–19. Blok (2007) J.  H. Blok: Fremde, Bürger und Baupolitik im klassischen Athen, HistAnthr 15 (2007), 309–326. Blok (2015) J. H. Blok: The diôbelia. On the Political Economy of an Athenian State Fund, ZPE 193 (2015), 87–102. Blösel (2004) W. Blösel: Themistokles bei Herodot: Spiegel Athens im fünften Jahrhundert. Studien zur Geschichte und historiographischen Konstruktion des griechischen Freiheitskampfes 480 v. Chr., Historia ES 183, Stuttgart 2004. Blösel (2007) W. Blösel: Das Flottenbauprogramm des Themistokles und der Beschluß der Athener zur Seeverteidigung gegen Xerxes (Hdt. VII 140–144), in: B. Bleckmann (ed.): Herodot und die Epoche der Perserkriege, Köln 2007, 53–65. Blösel (2014) W.  Blösel: Zensusklassen für die Ämterbekleidung im klassischen Griechenland. Wie groß war der verfassungsrechtliche Abstand gemäßigter Oligarchien von der athenischen Demokratie?, in: W.  Blösel/W.  Schmitz/G.  Seelentag/J.  Timmer (eds.): Grenzen politischer Partizipation im klassischen Griechenland, Stuttgart 2014, 71–93. Bockisch (1974) G. Bockisch: Die sozial-ökonomische und politische Krise der Lakedaimonier und ihrer Symmachoi im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., in: E. C. Welskopf (ed.): Hellenische Poleis, Darmstadt 1974, 199–223. Bodei Giglioni (1970) G. Bodei Giglioni: Xenophontis De Vectigalibus. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione ed indici, Biblioteca di Studi Superiori 57, Firenze 1970. Boeckh (1840) A.  Boeckh: Urkunden über das Seewesen des Attischen Staates. Beilage zur Staatshaushaltung der Athener, Berlin 1840. Boeckh (1886) A. Boeckh: Die Staatshaushaltung der Athener, 3rd edition, Berlin 1886.

288

Bibliography

Boegehold (1995) A.  L. Boegehold: The Lawcourts at Athens. Sites, Buildings, Equipment, Procedure, and Testimonia, The Athenian Agora 28, Princeton 1995. Boffo (1985) L. Boffo: Il re ellenistico e i centri religiosi dell’Asia Minore, Firenze 1985. Bogaert (1965) R. Bogaert: Banquiers, courtiers et prêts maritimes à Athènes et à Alexandrie, CE 40 (1965), 140–156. Bogaert (1968) R. Bogaert: Banques et banquiers dans les cités grecques, Leiden 1968. Bogaert (1974) R.  Bogaert: Die Krise der Banken in Athen im 4. Jahrhundert v.u.Z., in: E. C. Welskopf (ed.): Hellenische Poleis, Darmstadt 1974, 521–530. Bogaert (1986a) R.  Bogaert: Grundzüge des Bankwesens im alten Griechenland, Xenia 18, Konstanz 1986. Bogaert (1986b) R. Bogaert: La banque à Athènes au IVe siècle avant J.-C. État de la question, MH 43 (1986), 19–49. Bolkestein (1939) H. Bolkestein: Wohltätigkeit und Armenpflege im vorchristlichen Altertum. Ein Beitrag zum Problem „Moral und Gesellschaft“, Utrecht 1939. Bölte (1929) F. Bölte: Zu lakonischen Festen, RhM 78 (1929), 124–143. Bommelaer (1991) J.-F.  Bommelaer: Lysandre de Sparte. Histoire et traditions décision, Athens 1991. Bonney (1998) R. Bonney: What’s New about the New French Fiscal History?, Journal of Modern History 70 (1998), 639–667. Bonney/Ormrod (1999) R. Bonney/W. M. Ormrod: Crises, Revolutions and Self-sustained Growth: Towars a Conceptual Model of Change in Fiscal History, in: W. M. Ormrod/M. Bonney/R. Bonney (eds.): Crises, revolutions and self-sustained growth, Stamford 1999, 1–21. Boochs (1985) W. Boochs: Die Finanzverwaltung im Altertum, Sankt Augustin 1985. Bordes (1982) J. Bordes: Politeia dans la pensée grecque jusqu’à Aristote, Paris 1982. Borza (1987) E. N. Borza: Timber and Politics in the Ancient World: Macedon and the Greeks, PAPhS 131 (1987), 32–52. Borza (1990) E. N. Borza: In the Shadow of Olympus. The Emergence of macedon, Princeton 1990. Bottin (1930) C.  Bottin: Étude sur la chorégie dithyrambique en Attique jusqu’a l’époque de Démétrius de Phalère (308 avant J.C.), RBPh 9 (1930), 749–782. Bottin (1931) C.  Bottin: Étude sur la chorégie dithyrambique en Attique jusqu’a l’époque de Démétrius de Phalère (308 avant J.C.), RBPh 10 (1931), 5–32; 463–493. Bouchet (2014) C. Bouchet: Isocrate l’Athénien ou la belle hégémonie. Étude des relations internationales au 4.e siècle a.C, Bordeaux 2014. Bounas (2016) T. Bounas: Die Kriegsrechtfertigung in der attischen Rhetorik des 4. Jh. v. Chr. Vom Korinthischen Krieg bis zur Schlacht bei Chaironeia (395–338 v. Chr.), Prismata 21, Frankfurt a. M. 2016. Bourriot (1996) F. Bourriot: Kaloi kagathoi, kalokagathia à Sparte aux époques archaique et classique, Historia 45 (1996), 128–140. Braccesi (1977) L.  Braccesi: Grecità adriatica. Un capitolo della colonizzazione greca in occidente, Bologna 1977. Bradford (1977) A. S. Bradford: AProsopography of Lacedaemonians from the Death of Alexander the Great, 323 B. C., to the Sack of Sparta by Alaric, A.D. 396, Vestigia 27, München 1977. Brandts/Sola (2001) J.  Brandts/C.  Sola: Reference Points and Negative Reciprocity in Simple Sequential Games, Games and Economic Behavior 36 (2001), 138–157. Brashinsky (1968) J. B. Brashinsky: Athen und die Gebiete an der nördlichen Schwarzmeerküste zwischen dem 6. und 2. Jahrhundert v. u. Z., BCO 13 (1968), 102–108. Brashinsky (1971) J.  B. Brashinsky: Epigraphical Evidence on Athens’ Relations with North Pontic Greek States, in: Acta of the Fifth International Congress of Greek and Latin Epigraphy, Cambridge 1971, 119–123. Braun (1956) E. Braun: Das Lob Spartas in der Nikomachischen Ethik, JÖAI 43 (1956), 132–138. Braund (2007) D.  Braund: Black Sea Grain for Athens? From Herodotus to Demosthenes, in: V. Gabrielsen/J. Lund (eds.): The Black Sea in Antiquity, Aarhus 2007, 39–68. Bravo (1980) B. Bravo: Sulân. Représailles et justice privée contre des étrangers dans les cités grecques. Ètudes du vocabulaire et des institutions, ASNP 10 (1980), 675–987.

Bibliography

289

Bravo (1983) B.  Bravo: Le commerce des céreales chez les Grecs de l’epoque Archäique, in: P.  Garnsey/C.  R. Wittaker (eds.): Trade and Famine in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge 1983, 17–29. Bremer (1991) J.  M. Bremer: Poets and Their Patrons, in: H: Hofmann/A.  Harder (eds.): Fragmenta Dramatica. Beiträge zur Interpretation der griechischen Tragikerfragmente und ihrer Wirkungsgeschichte, FS Radt, Göttingen 1991, 39–60. Bresson (1994) A.  Bresson: L’attentat d’Hieron et le commerce grec, in: J.  Andreau/P.  Briant (eds.): Économie antique, Saint-Bertrand-de Comminges 1994, 47–68. Bresson (1998) A. Bresson: Prosodoi publics, prosodoi privés. Le paradoxe de l’économie civique, Ktèma 23 (1998), 243–262. Bresson (2000a) A. Bresson: Prix officiels et commerce de gros a Athènes, in: A. Bresson (ed.): La cité marchande, Paris 2000, 183–210. Bresson (2000b) A.  Bresson: Merchants and Politics in Ancient Greece: Social and Economic Aspects, in: C. Zaccagnini (ed.): Mercanti e politica nel mondo antico, Roma 2000, 139–163. Bresson (2007–2008) A. Bresson: L’économie de la Grèce des cités (fin VIe – Ier siècle a. C.), 2 vols., Paris 2007–2008. Bresson (2011) A. Bresson: Grain from Cyrene, in: Z. H. Archibald/J. K. Davies/V. Gabrielsen (eds.): The Economies of Hellenistic Societies, third to first centuries BCE, Oxford/New York 2011. Bresson (2016) A. Bresson: The Making of the Ancient Greek Economy: Institutions, Markets, and Growth in the City-States, Princeton/Oxford 2016. Briant (1968) P. Briant: La Boule et l’election des ambassadeurs a Athenes au IVe siecle, REA 70 (1968), 7–31. Bringmann (1965) K. Bringmann: Studien zu den politischen Ideen des Isokrates, Hypomnemata 14, Göttingen/Marburg 1965. Bringmann (1980) K. Bringmann: Die soziale und politische Verfassung Spartas. Ein Sonderfall der griechischen Verfassungsgeschichte?, Gymnasium 87 (1980), 465–484. Bringmann (1999) K. Bringmann: Lykurg, in: K. Brodersen (ed.): Große Gestalten der griechischen Antike, München 1999, 72–78. Bringmann (2000) K.  Bringmann: Geben und Nehmen. Monarchische Wohltätigkeit und Selbstdarstellung im Zeitalter des Hellenismus, Mit einem numismatischen Beitrag von Hans-­ Christoph Noeske, Berlin 2000. Bringmann/Steuben (1995) K. Bringmann/H. von Steuben: Schenkungen hellenistischer Herrscher an griechische Städte und Heiligtümer 1: Zeugnisse und Kommentare, Berlin 1995. Brinkmann (1912) A. Brinkmann: Zu Xenophons Poroi, RhM 67 (1912), 135–137. Brodersen (2006) K.  Brodersen: Aristoteles. 77 Tricks zur Steigerung der Staatseinnahmen, Oikonomiká II. Griechisch/Deutsch, Stuttgart 2006. Brodersen (2008) K.  Brodersen: Nützliche Forschung. Ps.-Aristoteles’ Oikonomika IIund die Haushalte griechischer Poleis, in: F.  Burrer/H.  Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 106–127. Brown (1974) D. Brown: Das Geschäft mit dem Staat. Die Überschneidung des Politischen und des Privaten im Corpus Demosthenicum, Hildesheim/New York 1974. Bruce (1961) I. A. F. Bruce: The Democratic Revolution at Rhodes, CQ 55 (1961), 166–170. Bruce (1987) I. A. F. Bruce: Theopompus. Lysander and the Spartan Empire, AHB 1 (1987), 1–5. Brücher (2008) G. Brücher: Pazifismus als Diskurs, Wiesbaden 2008. Brüggenbrock (2006) C. Brüggenbrock: Die Ehre in den Zeiten der Demokratie. Das Verhältnis von athenischer Polis und Ehre in klassischer Zeit, Historische Semantik 8, Göttingen 2006. Brun (1983) P.  Brun: Eisphora  – Syntaxis  – Stratiotika. Recherches sur les finances militaires d’Athènes au IVe siècle av. J.-C., Centre de recherches d’histoire ancienne 50, Paris 1983. Brun (1985) P. Brun: IGII2 1609 et le versement en nature de l’eisphora, REA 87 (1985), 307–317. Brun (2000) P. Brun: L’orateur Démade. Essai d’histoire et d’historiographie, Scripta antiqua 3, Pessac 2000. Brunsson/Olsen (1993) N. Brunsson/J. P. Olsen: The Reforming Organization, London 1993.

290

Bibliography

Brunt (1965) P. A. Brunt: Spartan Policy and Strategy in the Archidamian War, Phoenix 19 (1965), 255–280. Brunt (1969) P. A. Brunt: Euboea in the Time of Philip II, CQ 19 (1969), 245–265. Bubelis (2010) W. Bubelis: The Sacred Triremes and their Tamiai at Athens, Historia 59 (2010), 385–411. Buchanan (1962) J.  J. Buchanan: Theorika. AStudy of Monetary Distributions to the Athenian Citizenry during the Fifth and Fourth Centuries B. C., New York 1962. Bücher (1893) K. Bücher: Die Entstehung der Volkswirtschaft, Tübingen 1893. Bücher (1922) K.  Bücher: Zur griechischen Wirtschaftsgeschichte, in: K.  Bücher: Beiträge zur Wirtschaftsgeschichte, Tübingen 1922, 1–97. Buckler (2000) J. Buckler: Demosthenes and Aeschines, in: I. Worthington (ed.): Demosthenes. Statesman and Orator, London 2000, 114–158. Buckler (2003) J. Buckler: Aegean Greece in the Fourth Century BC, Leiden 2003. Buckler/Beck (2008) J. Buckler/H. Beck: Central Greece and the Politics of Power in the Fourth Century BC, Cambridge/New York 2008. Bugh (1988) G. R. Bugh: The Horsemen of Athens, Princeton 1988. Bürchner (1921) L. Bürchner: s. v. Keos (2), RE 11 (1921), 182–189. Burckhardt (1995) L.  Burckhardt: Söldner und Bürger als Soldaten für Athen, in: W.  Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 107–133. Burckhardt (1996) L. Burckhardt: Bürger und Soldaten. Aspekte der politischen und militärischen Rolle athenischer Bürger im Kriegswesen des 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Historia ES 101, Stuttgart 1996. Burford (1993) A. Burford: Land and Labor in the Greek World, Baltimore/London 1993. Burke (1977) E. M. Burke: Contra Leocratem and De corona, Phoenix 31 (1977), 330–340. Burke (1984) E. M. Burke: Eubulus, Olynthus, and Euboea, TAPhA 114 (1984), 111–120. Burke (1985) E. M. Burke: Lycurgan Finances, GRBS 26 (1985), 251–264. Burke (1990) E. M. Burke: Athens after the Peloponnesian War. Restoration Effects and the Role of maritime Commerce, ClAnt 9 (1990), 1–13. Burke (2002) E.  M. Burke: The Early Political Speeches of Demosthenes: Elite Bias in the Response to Economic Crisis, ClAnt 21 (2002), 165–194. Burke (2005) E.  M. Burke: The Habit of Subsidization in Classical Athens. Toward a Thetic Ideology, C&M 56 (2005), 5–47. Burke (2010) E. M. Burke: Finances and the Operation of the Athenian Democracy in the ‘Lycurgan Era’, AJPh 131 (2010), 393–423. Burn (1960) A. R. Burn: The Lyric Age of Greece, New York 1960. Burnstein/Crandall/Kitayama (1997) E. Burnstein/C. Crandall/S. Kitayama: Some Neo-Darwinian Decision Rules for Altruism. Weighing Cues for Inclusive Fitness as a Function of the Biological Importance of the Decision, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 67 (1997), 773–789. Burrer (2008) F.  Burrer: Sold und Verpflegungsgeld in klassischer und hellenistischer Zeit, in: F.  Burrer./H.  Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 74–90. Burrer/Müller (2008) F.  Burrer/H.  Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008. Burriot (1982) F. Burriot: La faille et le Milieu social de Cléon, Historia 31 (1982), 404–435. Burstein (1978a) S. M. Burstein: IG II2 1485 and Athenian Relations with Lysimachos, ZPE 31 (1978), 181–185. Burstein (1978b) S. M. Burstein: IG II2 653, Demosthenes and Athenian Relations with Bosporus in the Fourth Century B. C., Historia 27 (1978), 428–436. Busch (1998) A. Busch: s. v. Steuern, Lexikon der Politik 7: Politische Begriffe (1998), 621–622. Busolt (1878) G. Busolt: Die Lakedaimonier und ihre Bundesgenossen bis zur Begründung der athenischen Seehegemonie, Leipzig 1878. Busolt/Swoboda (1920–1926) G. Busolt/H. Swoboda: Griechische Staatskunde, 2 vols., München 1920–1926.

Bibliography

291

Calhoun (1930) G. M. Calhoun: Risk in Sea Loans in Ancient Athens, JEBH2 (1930), 561–584. Calligas (1992) P. Calligas: From the Amyklaion, in: J. M. Sanders (ed.): Philolakon: Lakonian Studies in Honour of Hector Catling, London 1992, 31–48. Camp (1979) J. M. Camp: Water Supply of Ancient Athens from 3000 to 86 B. C., Princeton 1979. Camp (1982) J. M. Camp: Drought and Famine in the 4th Century, in: J. E. Coleman/K. Abramovitz (eds.): Studies in Athenian Architecture, Sculpture, and Topography, Princeton 1982, 9–17. Camp (1996) J. M. Camp: The Form of Pnyx III, in: B. Forsén/G. R. Stanton (eds.): The Pnyx in the History of Athens, Helsinki 1996, 41–46. Camp (2010) J. M. Camp: The Athenian Agora. Site Guide, 5th edition, Princeton 2010. Canevaro (2016) M.  Canevaro: Demostene, „Contro Leptine“. Introduzione, Traduzione e Commento Storico, Texte und Kommentare 55, Berlin 2016. Canevaro (2018a) M.  Canevaro: Majority Rule vs. Consensus: The Practice of Democratic Deliberation in the Greek Poleis, in: M. Canevarp/A. Erskine/B. Gray/J. Ober (eds.): Ancient Greek History and Contemporary Social Science, Edinburgh Leventis Studies 9, Edinburgh 2018, 101–156. Canevaro (2018b) M.  Canevaro: Introduction, in: M.  Canecaro/B.  Gray (eds.): The Hellenistic Reception of Classical Athenian Democracy and Political Thought, Oxford 2018, 1–18. Carawan (1985) E. Carawan: Apophasis and eisangelia: The Role of the Areopagus in Athenian Political Trials, GRBS 26 (1985), 115–140. Carawan (2002) E. Carawan: The Athenian Amnesty and the “Scrutiny of the Laws”, JHS 112 (2002), 1–23. Carawan (2013) E. Carawan: The Athenian Amnesty and Reconstructing the Law, Oxford 2013. Care et al. (2008) C. CARE/M. Edwards/Z. Farkas/J. Herrman/L. Horváth/G. Mayer/T. Mészáros/ N. Tchernetska/P. J. Rhodes: Fragments of Hyperides’ “Against Diondas” from the Archimedes Palimpsest, ZPE 165 (2008), 1–19. Cargill (1981) J. Cargill: The Second Athenian League. Empire or Free Alliance?, Berkeley/Los Angeles 1981. Cargill (1995) J. Cargill: Athenian Settlements of the Fourth Century B. C., Leiden 1995. Carlsson (2010) S.  Carlsson: Hellenistic Democracies. Freedom, Independence and Political Procedure in Some East Greek City-States, Stuttgart 2010. Carmichael (1997) C. M. Carmichael: Public Munificence for Private Benefit. Liturgies in Classical Athens, Economic Inquiry 35 (1997), 261–270. Carriero (2016) R. Carriero: More Inequality, Fewer Class Differences. The Paradox of Attitudes to Redistribution Across European Countries, Comparative Sociology 15 (2016), 112–139. Carsana (1996) C. Carsana: Le dirigenze cittadine nello stato seleucidico, Biblioteca di Athenaeum 30, Como 1996. J. M. Carter (1971) J. M. Carter: Athens, Euboea, and Olynthus, Historia 20 (1971), 418–429. L. B. Carter (1986) L. B. Carter: The Quiet Athenian, Oxford 1986. Cartledge (1976) P.  Cartledge: Did Spartan Citizens Ever Practise a Manual tekhne ?, LCM 1 (1976), 115–119. Cartledge (2000a) P. Cartledge: Agesilaos and the Crisis of Sparta, London 2000. Cartledge (2000b) P. Cartledge: s. v. metoikos, DNP 8 (2000), 104–107. Cartledge (2002a) P.  Cartledge: Sparta and Lakonia. A Regional History, 1300–362 BC, London 2002. Cartledge (2002b) P. Cartledge: The Economy (Economies) of Ancient Greece, in: W. Scheidel/S. von Reden (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Edinburgh 2002, 11–32. Cartledge (2003) P. Cartledge: The Spartans. The World of the Warrior-Heroes of Ancient Greece, Woodstock 2003. Cartledge/Spawforth (2002) P. Cartledge/A. Spawforth: Hellenistic and Roman Sparta. A Tale of Two Cities, London 2002. Casson (1956) L. Casson: The Size of the Ancient Merchant Ships, in: Studi in onore di A. Calderini e R. Paribeni, Milano 1956, 231–238. Casson (1973) L. Casson: Ships and Seamanship in the Ancient World, Princeton 1973.

292

Bibliography

Cataldi (2007) S. Cataldi: Isocrate e la Lakedaimonion Politeia. Spunti per una riconsiderazione, in: N. Birgalias/K. Buraselis/P. Cartledge (eds.): The Contribution of Ancient Sparta to Political Thought and Practice, Pyrgos 2007, 275–289. Cataudella (1985) M. R. Cataudella: Il programma dei Poroi e il problema della copertura finanziaria (III,9), in: F. Broilo (ed.): Xenia, Roma 1985, 37–44. Catling (2002) R. W. V. Catling: The Survey Area From the Early Iron Age to the Classical Period (c. 1050–c. 300 BC), in: W. Cavanagh/J. Crouwel/R. W. V. Catling/G. Shipley (eds.): Continuity and Change in a Greek Rural Landscape, London/Athens 2002, 151–256. Cavanagh (2002) W.  Cavanagh: The Laconia Survey: An Overview, in: W. Cavanagh/J. Crouwel/R. W. V. Catling/G. Shipley (eds.): Continuity and Change in a Greek Rural Landscape, London/Athens 2002, 421–437. Cavanagh/Gallou/Georgiadis (2009) W.  Cavanagh/C.  Gallou/M.  Georgiadis (eds.): Sparta and Laconia. From Prehistory to Pre-modern, BSAAS 16, London 2009. Cavanaugh (1996) M. B. Cavanaugh: Eleusis and Athens. Documents in Finance, Religion and Politics in the Fifth Century, Atlanta 1996. Cavanaugh (2002–2003) M.  B. Cavanaugh: Democracy, Equality, and Taxes, Alabama Law Review 54 (2002–2003), 415–481. Cawkwell (1962a) G. L. Cawkwell: Demosthenes and the Stratiotic Fund, Mnemosyne 15 (1962), 377–383. Cawkwell (1962b) G. L. Cawkwell: Notes on the Social War, C&M 23 (1962), 34–49. Cawkwell (1962c) G. L. Cawkwell: The Defence of Olynthus, CQ 12 (1962), 122–140. Cawkwell (1963) G. L. Cawkwell: Eubulus, JHS 83 (1963), 47–67. Cawkwell (1973) G. L. Cawkwell: The Date of I.G. II2 1609 Again!, Historia 22 (1973), 759–761. Cawkwell (1976) G. L. Cawkwell: Agesilaus and Sparta, CQ 26 (1976), 62–84. Cawkwell (1978) G. L. Cawkwell: Philipp of Macedon, London/Boston 1978. Cawkwell (1981) G. L. Cawkwell: Notes on the Failure of the Second Athenian Confederacy, JHS 101 (1981), 40–55. Cawkwell (1984) G. L. Cawkwell: Athenian Naval Power in the Fourth Century, CQ 34 (1984), 334–345. Ceccarelli (2004) P. Ceccarelli: Dancing the pyrrhiche in Athens, in: P. Murray/P. Wilson (eds.): Music and the Muses: The Culture of ‘Mousike’ in the Classical Athenian City, Oxford 2004, 91–117. Cecchet (2015) L.  Cecchet: Poverty in Athenian Public Discourse. From the Eve of the Peloponnesian War to the Rise of Macedonia, Historia ES 239, Stuttgart 2015. Celato (1967–68) S. Celato: La Grecia del IVsecolo a. C. nell’opera di Enea Tattico, AAPat 80 (1967–68), 215–244. Chambers (1990) M.  Chambers: Aristoteles, Staat der Athener, übers. und erläutert von M. Chambers, Aristoteles. Werke in deutscher Übersetzung 10.1, Darmstadt 1990. Christ (1990) M.  R. Christ: Liturgy Avoidance and Antidosis in Classical Athens, TAPhA 120 (1990), 147–169. Christ (1998) M. R. Christ: The Litigious Athenian, Baltimore 1998. Christ (2001) M. R. Christ: Conscription of Hoplites in Classical Athens, CQ 51 (2001), 398–422. Christ (2006) M. R. Christ: The Bad Citizen in Classical Athens, Cambridge 2006. Christ (2007) M. R. Christ: The Evolution of the Eisphora in Classical Athens, CQ 57 (2007), 53–69. Christ (2012) M. R. Christ: The Limits of Altruism in Democratic Athens, Cambridge 2012. Christesen (2003) P. Christesen: Economic Rationalism in Fourth-Century BCE Athens, G&R 50 (2003), 34–56. Christesen (2004) P. Christesen: Utopia on the Eurotas. Economic Aspects of the Spartan Mirage, in: T. J. Figueira (ed.): Spartan Society, Swansea 2004, 309–337. Christien (1974) J. Christien: La loi d’Epitadeus. Un aspect de l’histoire économique et social à Sparte, RD 52 (1974), 197–221. Christien (2002) J. Christien: Iron Money in Sparta. Myth and History, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta Beyond the Mirage, Swansea 2002, 171–190.

Bibliography

293

Cialdini et  al. (1997) R.  B. Cialdini/S.  L. Brown/B.  P. Lewis/C.  Luce/et  al.: Reinterpreting the Empathy-Altruism Relationship: When One Into One Equals Oneness, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 73 (1997), 481–494. Clark (1990) M. Clark: The Date of IG II2 1604, ABSA 85 (1990), 47–67. Clark (1995) M. Clark: καὶ τὸ μὴ τείνειν ἄγαν, ZPE 108 (1995), 281–284. Clark (1997) M. Clark: The Spirit of the Lycurgan Navy, in: Preatti XI Congresso Internazionale di Epigrafia Greca e Latina, Roma 1997, 157–166. C. J. Classen (2010) C. J. Classen: Herrscher, Bürger und Erzieher. Beobachtungen zu den Reden des Isokrates, Spudasmata 133, Hildesheim/Zürich/New York 2010. J. Classen (1897) J. Classen: Thukydides, vol. 1, Berlin 1897. Clauss (1983) M.  Clauss: Sparta. Eine Einführung in seine Geschichte und Zivilisation, München 1983. Clinton (1971) K. Clinton: Inscriptions from Eleusis, ArchEph 110 (1971), 81–136. Clinton (1974) K. Clinton: The Sacred Officials of the Eleusinian Mysteries, Philadelphia 1974. Clinton (1980) K. Clinton: A Law in the City Eleusinion Concerning the Mysteries, Hesperia 49 (1980), 258–288. Clinton (2005–2008) K. Clinton: Eleusis. The Inscriptions on Stone. Documents of the Sanctuary of the Two Goddesses and Public Documents of the deme, 3 vols., Athens 2005–2008. Cloché (1942) P. Cloché: Aristote et les institutions de Sparte, LEC 11 (1942), 289–313. Coates/Platis/Shaw (1988) J. F. Coates/S. K. Platis/J. T. Shaw: The Trireme Trials. Report on the Anglo-Hellenic Sea Trials of Olympias, Oxford 1988. Cogan (1981) M. Cogan: The Human Thing. The Speeches and Principles of Thucydides’ History, Chicago/London 1981. D. Cohen (1995) D. Cohen: The Rule of Law and Democatic Ideology in Classical Athens, in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 227–244. D.  Cohen (1998) D.  Cohen: Women, Property and Status in Demosthenes 41 and 57, Dike 1 (1998), 53–61. E. E. Cohen (1973) E. E. Cohen: Ancient Athenian Maritime Courts, Princeton 1973. E.  E. Cohen (1992) E.  E. Cohen: Athenian Economy and Society. A Banking Perspective, Princeton 1992. E. E. Cohen (2000) E. E. Cohen: The Athenian Nation, Princeton 2000. E.  E. Cohen (2005) E.  E. Cohen: Commercial Law, in: M.  Gagarin (ed.): The Cambridge Companion to Ancient Greek Law, Cambridge 2005, 290–302. E. E. Cohen (2016) E. E. Cohen: Transformation of the Athenian Economy: Maritime Finance and Maritime Law, in: C. Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 207–222. Cole (1995) T.  Cole: The Origins of Rhetoric in Ancient Greece, Ancient Society and History, Baltimore 1995. Colin (1928) G. Colin: Note sur l’administration financière de l’orateur Lycurge, REA 30 (1928), 189–200. Connor (1971) W.  R. Connor: The New Politicians of Fifth-Century Athens, Princeton/ London 1971. Conomis (1961) N. Conomis: Notes on the Fragments of Lycurgus, Klio 39 (1961), 72–152. Conophagos (1980) C. E. Conophagos: Le Laurium antique et la technique grecque de la production de l’argent, Athens 1980. Cooper (2004) C. Cooper: Demosthenes Actor on the Political and Forensic Stage, in: C. J. Mackie (ed.): Oral Performance and Its Context, Orality and Literarcy in Ancient Greece 5, Leiden/ Boston, 145–161. Costabile (1992) F. Costabile: Redditi, terre e fonti finanziarie dell’Olympieion: tributi, imposte e rapporti contrattuali, in: F. Costabile (ed.): Polis ed Olympieion a Locri Epizefiri, Catanzaro 1992, 160–174. Cozzoli (1979) U. Cozzoli: Proprietà fondiaria ed esercito nello stato spartano dell’età classica, Roma 1979.

294

Bibliography

Crosby (1941) M. Crosby: Greek Inscriptions, Hesperia 10 (1941), 14–27. Crosby (1950) M. Crosby: The Leases of the Laureion Mines, Hesperia 19 (1950), 189–312. Crowther (1985) N. B. Crowther: Male ‘Beauty’ Contests in Greece. The Euandria and Euexia, AC 54 (1985), 285–291. Csapo (2004) E. Csapo: The Rise of Acting: Some Social and Economic Conditions behind the Rise of the Acting Profession in the Fifth and Fourth Centuries B. C., in: C. Hugoniot/F. Hurlet/ S. Milanezi (eds.): Le statut de l’acteur dans l’antiquité grecque et romaine, Tours 2004, 53–76. Csapo (2007) E.  Csapo: The Men Who Built the Theatres: Theatropolai, Theatronai, and Arkhitektones, in: P.  Wilson (ed.): The Greek Theatre and Festivals, Oxford/New York 2007, 97–121. Csapo/W. Slater (1994) E. Csapo/W. Slater: The Context of Ancient Drama, Ann Arbor 1994. Csapo/P. Wilson (2010) E. Csapo/P. Wilson: Le passage de la chorégie à l’agonothésie à Athènes à la fin du IVe siècle, in: B. Le Guen (ed.): L’argent dans les concours du monde grec, Saint-­ Denis 2010, 83–105. Csapo/P. Wilson (2014) E. Csapo/P. Wilson: The Finance and Organisation of the Athenian Theatre in the Time of Eubulus and Lycurgus, in: E. Csapo/H. R. Goette/Green J. Richard/P. Wilson (eds.): Greek Theatre in the Fourth Century B. C., Berlin 2014, 393–424. Cudjoe (2010) R. V. Cudjoe: The Social and Legal Position of Widows and Orphans in Classical Athens, Symboles 3, Athens 2010. Culasso Gastaldi (2004) E. Culasso Gastaldi: Le prossenie ateniesi del IVsecolo a. C. Gli onorati asiatici, Fonti e studi di storia antica 10, Alessandria 2004. Culasso Gastaldi (2005) E. Culasso Gastaldi: Per un bilancio comparativo sulle prossenie ateniesi del IV secolo a.C., in: M.  G. Angeli Bertinelli/A.  Donati (eds.): Il cittadino, lo straniero, il barbaro, fra integrazione ed emarginazione nell’Antichità, Roma 2005, 45–75. Culasso Gastaldi (2008a) E. Culasso Gastaldi: Lemnos: i cippi di garanzia, ASAtene 84 (2008), 509–549. Culasso Gastaldi (2008b) E.  Culasso Gastaldi: Tra Atene e Lemnos: questioni di terra, in: E. Greco/E. Papi (eds.): Hephaestia 2000–2006. Ricerche e scavi della Scuola Archeologica Italiana die Atene in collaborazione con il Dipartimento di Archeologia e Storia delle Arti dell’Università di Siena, Tekmeria 6, Paestum/Athens 2008, 271–294. Cuniberti (2000) G.  Cuniberti: Lakedaimoníon Politeía. Priorità e originalità nel dibattito sulle politeiai-modello di Sparta e Creta, SIFC 18 (2000), 99–111. Cunningham (1967) C.  J. K.  Cunningham: The Silver Mines of Laureion, G&R 14 (1967), 145–156. Dalby (1998) A.  Dalby: Essen und Trinken im alten Griechenland. Von Homer bis zur byzantinischen Zeit, Stuttgart 1998. Dari-Mattiacci (2015) G. Dari-Mattiacci: The Economic Perspective: Demand and Supply in the Reduction of Transaction Costs in the Ancient World, in: D. P. Kehoe/D. M. Ratzan/U. Yiftach (eds.): Law and Transaction Costs in the Ancient Economy, Ann Arbor 2015, 273–292. David (1978) E. David: The Spartan Syssitia and Plato’s Law, AJPh 99 (1978), 486–495. David (1979a) E. David: The Conspiracy of Cinadon, Athenaeum 57 (1979), 239–259. David (1979b) E. David: The Pamphlet of Pausanias, PP34 (1979), 94–116. David (1980) E. David: Revolutionary Agitation in Sparta after Leuctra, Athenaeum 58 (1980), 299–308. David (1981) E. David: Sparta between Empire and Revolution (404–243 B. C.). Internal Problems and Their Impact on Contemporary Greek Consciousness, New York 1981. David (1982/83) E. David: Aristotle and Sparta, AncSoc 13/14 (1982/83), 67–103. Davies (1967) J. K. Davies: Demosthenes on Liturgies. ANote, JHS 87 (1967), 33–40. Davies (1969) J. K. Davies: The Date of IG ii2 1609, Historia 18 (1969), 309–333. Davies (1971) J. K. Davies: Athenian Propertied Families, Oxford 1971. Davies (1981) J. K. Davies: Wealth and the Power of Wealth in Classical Athens, Salem 1981. Davies (1994) J.  K. Davies: Accounts and Accountability in Classical Athens, in: R. Osborne/S. Hornblower (eds.): Ritual, Finance, Politics, Oxford 1994, 201–212.

Bibliography

295

Davies (1995) J.  K. Davies: The Fourth Century Crisis. What Crisis?, in: W.  Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 29–36. Davies (1998) J. K. Davies: Ancient Economies. Models and Muddles, in: H. Parkins/C. J. Smith (eds.): Trade, Traders and the Ancient City, London/New York 1998, 225–256. Davies (2004) J.  K. Davies: Temples, Credit, and the Circulation of Money, in: A. Meadows/K. Shipton (eds.): Money and Its Uses in the Ancient Greek World, Oxford 2004, 117–128. Davies (2005) J.  K. Davies: Linear and Nonlinear Flow Models for Ancient Economies, in: J. G. Manning/I. Morris (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Stanford 2005, 127–160. Davies (2006) J.  K. Davies: Hellenistic Economies, in: G.  R. Bugh (ed.): The Cambridge Companion to the Hellenistic World, Cambridge/New York 2006, 73–92. Davies (2007) J. K. Davies: Classical Greece: Production, in: I. Morris/R. Saller/W. Scheidel (eds.): The Cambridge Economic History of The Greco-Roman World, Cambridge 2007, 333–361. Davis (2014) G. Davis: Mining Money in Late Archaic Athens, Historia 63 (2014), 257–277. de Carvalho Gomes (1995) C. H. de Carvalho Gomes: Xouthias Son of Philakhaios. On IG V.2. 159 and Its Possible Historical Placement, ZPE 108 (1995), 103–106. de Laix (1973) R.  A. de Laix: Probouleusis at Athens. AStudy of Political Decision-Making, Berkeley 1973. de Laix (1974) R. A. de Laix: Aristotle’s Conception of the Spartan Constitution, Journal of the History of Philosophy 12 (1974), 21–30. de Martinis (2012) L. de Martinis: Idemocratici ateniesi dopo Cheronea. Alla luce del nuovo Iperide, Aevum 86 (2012), 39–62. de Martinis (2013a) L. de Martinis: Atene e il “governo dei tecnici”, Nuova Secondaria Ricerca 8 (2013), 63–65. de Martinis (2013b) L. de Martinis: Licurgo fra tradizione e innovazione, Nuova Secondaria Ricerca 8 (2013), 24–54. de Romilly (1954) J. de Romilly: Les modérés athéniens vers le milieu du IVe siècle: échos et concordances, REG 67 (1954), 327–354. de Romilly (1977) J. de Romilly: The Rise and Fall of States According to Greek Authors, Ann Arbor 1977. de Souza (1999) P. de Souza: Piracy in the Graeco-Roman World, Cambridge 1999. de Souza (2013) P. de Souza: War at Sea, in: B. Campbell/L. A. Tritle (eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Warfare in the Classical World, Oxford 2013, 369–394. de Souza/Heckel/Llewellyn-Jones (2007) P. de Souza/W. Heckel/L. Llewellyn-Jones: The Greeks at War. From Athens to Alexander, Oxford 2007. de Ste. Croix (1953) G. E. M. de Ste. Croix: Demosthenes’ TIMHMA and the Athenian Eisphora in the Fourth Century B. C., C&M 14 (1953), 30–70. de Ste. Croix (1964) G.  E. M. de Ste. Croix: Review of J.  J. Buchanan: Theorika. AStudy of Monetary Distributions to the Athenian Citizenry during the Fifth and Fourth Centuries B. C., New York 1964., CR14 (1964), 190–192. de Ste. Croix (1966) G.  E. M. de Ste. Croix: The Estate of Phaenippus (Ps.-Dem., xlii), in: E. Badian (ed.): Ancient Society and Institutions, FS Ehrenberg, Oxford 1966, 109–114. de Ste. Croix (1972) G. E. M. de Ste. Croix: The Origins of the Peloponnesian War, London 1972. de Ste. Croix (1974) G.  E. M. de Ste. Croix: Ancient Greek and Roman Maritime Loans, in: H. C. Edey/B. S. Yamey (eds.): Debits, Credits, Finance and Profits, London 1974, 41–59. de Ste. Croix (1975) G. E. M. de Ste. Croix: Political Pay Outside Athens, CQ 25 (1975), 48–52. de Ste. Croix (1981) G. E. M. de Ste. Croix: The Class Struggle in the Ancient Greek World form Archaic Age to the Arab Conquest, London 1981. de Ste. Croix (1984) G. E. M. de Ste. Croix: Class in Marx’s Conception of History, Ancient and Modern, New Left Review 146 (1984), 94–111. Debnar (2001) P.  Debnar: Speaking the Same Language. Speech and Audience in Thucydides’ Spartan Debates, Ann Arbor 2001.

296

Bibliography

Debord (1982) P.  Debord: Aspects sociaux et économiques de la vie religieuse dans l’Anatolie Gréco-romaine, EPRO 88, Leiden 1982. Debord (1997) P. Debord: Hiérapolis: du sanctuaire-état à la cité, REA 99 (1997), 415–426. Deene (2014) M.  Deene: Let’s Work Together! Economic Cooperation, Social Capital, and Chances of Social Mobility in Classical Athens, G&R 61 (2014), 152–173. Deininger (1971) J. Deininger: Der politische Widerstand gegen Rom in Griechenland 217–86 v. Chr., Berlin 1971. Demetriades (1998) G.  M. Demetriades: Ἡμίθεοι καὶ θεοποιημένοι ἥρωες τῆς Λακωνίας, Lakonikai Spudai 14 (1998), 33–70. Demetriou (2011) D.  Demetriou: What is an Emporion? A Reassessment, Historia 60 (2011), 255–272. Denzau/North (1994) A. T. Denzau/D. C. North: Shared Mental Models. Ideologies and Institutions, Kyklos 47 (1994), 3–32. Descat (1993) R. Descat: La Loi de Solon sur l’interdiction d’exporter les produits Attiques, in: A. Bresson/P. Rouillard (eds.): L’emporion, Paris 1993, 145–151. Descat (2002) R.  Descat: La mer et l’informtion économique dans le monde grec, in: J. Andreau/C. Virlouvet (eds.): L’information et la mer dans le monde antique, Roma 2002, 263–278. Descat (2016) R.  Descat: Continuité et changement: le comportement économique à Athènes au IVe s. a. C, in: C. Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 195–206. Develin (1984) R. Develin: From Panathenaia to Panathenaia, ZPE 57 (1984), 133–138. Develin (1986) R. Develin: Prytany Systems and Eponyms for Financial Boards in Athens, Klio 68 (1986) 67–83. Develin (1989) R. Develin: Athenian Officials 684–321 B. C., Cambridge 1989. Dierse (1982) U. Dierse: s. v. Ideologie, Geschichtliche Grundbegriffe 3 (1982), 131–169. Dignas (2000) B. Dignas: The Leases of Sacred Property at Mylasa: An Alimentray Scheme for the Gods, Kernos 13 (2000), 117–126. Dignas (2002) B.  Dignas: Economy of the Sacred in Hellenistic and Roman Asia Minor, Oxford 2002. Dillery (1993) J. D. Dillery: Xenophon’s Poroi and Athenian Imperialism, Historia 42 (1993), 1–11. Dillon (2017) M. Dillon: Legal (and Customary?) Approaches to the Disabled in Ancient Greece, in: C. Laes (ed.): Disability in Antiquity, Abington 2017, 167–181. Dinsmoor (1933) W. B. Dinsmoor: Review of Hesperia, vol. 1, 1932, AJA 37 (1933), 180–182. Dittenberger (1872) W. Dittenberger: Der Vermögenstausch und die Trierarchie des Demosthenes, Rudolstadt 1872. Dorion (2008) L.-A. Dorion: Socrate oikonomikos, in: M. Narcy/A. Tordesillas (eds.): Xénophon et Socrate, Paris 2008, 253–282. Dörpfeld/Reisch (1896) W. Dörpfeld/E. Reisch: Das griechische Theater, Athens 1896. Dover (1950) K. J. Dover: The Chronology of Antiphon’s Speeches, CQ 44 (1950), 44–60. Dover (1968) K.  J. Dover: Lysias and the corpus Lysiacum, Sather classical lectures 39, Berkeley 1968. Dover (1974) K. J. Dover: Greek Popular Morality in the Time of Plato and Aristotle, Berkeley 1974. Dreher (1995) M. Dreher: Hegemon und Symmachoi. Untersuchungen zum Zweiten Athenischen Seebund, Berlin 1995. Dreher (2001) M. Dreher: Athen und Sparta, München 2001. Dreher (2014) M. Dreher: Die Rechte der Götter, in: M. Gagarin/A. Lanni (eds.): Symposion 2013, Wien 2014, 1–26. Drexhage/Konen/Ruffing (2002) H.-J.  Drexhage/H.  Konen/K.  Ruffing: Die Wirtschaft des Römischen Reiches (1.–3. Jahrhundert). Eine Einführung, Berlin 2002. Dreyer (1999) B. Dreyer: Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des spätklassischen Athen (322–ca. 230 v. Chr.), Historia ES 137, Stuttgart 1999. Dreyer (2001) B.  Dreyer: Wann endet die Klassische Demokratie Athens?, AncSoc 31 (2001), 27–66.

Bibliography

297

Ducat (1983) J. Ducat: Sparte archaïque et classique. Structures économiques, sociales, politiques, REG 96 (1983), 194–225. Ducat (2006) J. Ducat: Spartan Education. Youth and Society in the Classical Period, Swansea 2006. Ducat (2008) J. Ducat: Le statut des périèques lacédémoniens, Ktèma 33 (2008), 1–86. Ducat (2010) J. Ducat: The Ghost of the Lakedaimonian State, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta, Swansea 2010, 183–210. Ducrey (1988) P. Ducrey: Des dieux et des sanctuaires à Philippes de Macédoine, in: D. Knoepfler (eds.): Comptes et inventaires dans la cité grecque, Neuchâtel 1988, 207–213. Duncan (2006) A. Duncan: Performance and Identity in the Classical World, Cambridge 2006. Edeling (1999) T. Edeling: Einführung. Der Neue Institutionalismus in Ökonomie und Soziologie, in: T. Edeling (ed.): Institutionenökonomie und Neuer Institutionalismus, Opladen 1999, 7–15. Eder (1995a) W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995. Eder (1995b) W. Eder: Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Krise oder Vollendung?, in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 11–28. Edmunds (1975) L. Edmunds: Chance and Intelligence in Thucydides, Cambridge 1975. M. Edwards (1995) M. Edwards: Andocides, Greek orators 4, Warminster 1995. M. Edwards (2007) M. Edwards: Isaeus, The Oratory of Classical Greece 11, Austin 2007. M.  Edwards/Usher (1993) M.  Edwards/S.  Usher: Antiphon and Lysias, Greek orators 1, Warminster 1993. M.  L. Edwards (1995) M.  L. Edwards: Physical Disability in the Ancient Greek World, Diss. University of Minnesota 1995. M. L. Edwards (1996) M. L. Edwards: The Cultural Context of Deformity in the Ancient Greek World, AHB 10 (1996), 79–92. M. L. Edwards (1997) M. L. Edwards: Constructions of Physical Disability in the Ancient Greek World. The Community Concept, in: D. T. Mitchell/S. L. Snyder (eds.): The Body and Physical Difference, Ann Arbor 1997, 35–50. Egermann (1972) F. Egermann: Thukydides über die Art seiner Reden und über die Darstellung der Kriegsgeschehnisse, Historia 21 (1972), 575–602. Eheberg (1917) K. T. von Eheberg: Die Kriegsfinanzen, Leipzig 1917. Ehling (1997) K. Ehling: Zur Datierung des Gold- und Silbergeld‘verbots’ in Sparta, Jahrbuch für Numismatik und Geldgeschichte 47 (1997), 13–20. Ehrenberg (1924) V.  Ehrenberg: Spartiaten und Lakedaimonier, reprint in: V.  Ehrenberg (ed.): Polis und Imperium, Zürich/Stuttgart 1965, 161–201. Ehrenberg (1965) V. Ehrenberg: The Fourth Century B. C. as Part of Greek History, in: V. Ehrenberg: Polis und Imperium, ed. by K. F. Stroheker/A. J. Graham, Zürich/Stuttgart 1965, 32–41. Ehrhart (1993) W. Ehrhart: Der Fries des Lysikratesmonuments, AntPl 22 (1993), 7–67. Eich (2006) A.  Eich: Die politische Ökonomie des antiken Griechenland (6.–3. Jahrhundert v. Chr.), Passauer Historische Forschungen 14, Köln et al. 2006. Eich (2016) A. Eich: Konzeptionen zur politischen Steuerung und Beeinflussbarkeit von wirtschaftlichen Vorgängen (Athen, 4. Jh. v. Chr.), in: C. Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 233–252. Eich (2019) A. Eich: The Struggle over Prices. Conflicting Interests and the Politics of Intervention in the Price Formation Process (Classical Greece), in: S. Günther/D. Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019, 155–187. Eich (2020) A.  Eich: Klassenbegriff und Klassentheorie bei Marx und in den altertumskundlichen Sozialwissenschaften, in: C. Deglau/P. Reinard (eds.): Aus dem Tempel und dem ewigen Genuß des Geistes verstoßen?  – Karl Marx und sein Einfluss auf die Altertums- und Geschichtswissenschaft, Philippika 126, Wiesbaden 2020, 49–86. Ellis (1976) J. R. Ellis: Philip II and Macedonian Imperialism, London 1976.

298

Bibliography

Ellis-Evans (2013) A.  Ellis-Evans: The Ideology of Public Subscriptions, in: P.  Martzavou/N.  Papazarkadas (ed.): Epigraphical Approaches to the Postclassical Polis, Oxford 2013, 107–121. Engels (1988a) J.  Engels: Das Eukratesgesetz und der Prozeß der Kompetenzerweiterung des Areopages in der Eubulos- und Lykurgära, ZPE 74 (1988), 181–209. Engels (1988b) J. Engels: Anmerkungen zum „Ökonomischen Denken“ im 4. Jh. v. Chr. und zur wirtschaftlichen Entwicklung des Lykurgischen Athen, MBAH 7 (1988), 90–134. Engels (1992a) J. Engels: Zur Entwicklung der Attischen Demokratie in der Ära des Eubulos und des Lykurg (355–322 v. Chr.) und zu Auswirkungen der Binnenwanderung von Bürgern innerhalb Attikas, Hermes 120 (1992), 425–451. Engels (1992b) J.  Engels: Zur Stellung Lykurgs und zur Aussagekraft seines Militär- und Bauprogramms für die Demokratie vor 322 v. Chr., AncSoc 23 (1992), 5–29. Engels (1993) J.  Engels: Studien zur politischen Biographie des Hypereides. Athen in der Epoche der lykurgischen Reformen und des makedonischen Universalreiches, Quellen und Forschungen zur antiken Welt 2, München 1993. Engels (1998) J. Engels: Funerum sepulcrorumque magnificentia. Begräbnis- und Grabluxusgesetze in der griechisch-römischen Welt. Mit einigen Ausblicken auf Einschränkungen des funeralen und sepulkralen Luxus im Mittelalter und in der Neuzeit, Hermes ES78, Stuttgart 1998. Engels (2000a) J. Engels: Das athenische Getreidesteuer-Gesetz des Agyrrhios und angeblicher ‚sozialstaatlicher‘ Ziele in den Maßnahmen zur Getreideversorgung spätklassischer und hellenistischer Poleis, ZPE 132 (2000), 97–124. Engels (2000b) J. Engels: ‚Der Streit um den unbeliebten Frieden‘. Der Gesandtschaftsprozeß 343 v. Chr., in: L. Burckhardt/L. A. Burckhardt/J. von Ungern-Sternberg (eds.): Große Prozesse im antiken Athen, München 2000, 174–189. Engels (2006) J. Engels: Philipp II. und Alexander der Große, Darmstadt 2006. Engels (2008) J. Engels: Lykurg, Rede gegen Leokrates, hrsg., eingel. und übers. von J. Engels, Darmstadt 2008. Engels (2010) J.  Engels: Macedonians and Greeks, in: J.  Roisman/I.  Worthington (eds.): A Companion to Ancient Macedonia, Malden 2010, 81–98. Engen (2001) D.  T. Engen: Trade, Traders, and the Economy of Athens in the Fourth Century B.C.E., in: D. W. Tandy (ed.): Prehistory and History, Montréal 2001, 179–202. Engen (2010) D. T. Engen: Honor and Profit. Athenian Trade Policy and the Economy and Society of Greece, 415–307 B. C.E, Ann Arbor 2010. Engen (2011) D. T. Engen: Democracy, Knowledge, and the Hidden Economy of Athens, Journal of Economic Asymmetries 8 (2011), 93–106. English (2012) S.  English: Mercenaries in the Classical World to the Death of Alexander, Barnsley 2012. Epstein (2011) S. Epstein: Direct Democracy and Minority Rule. The Athenian Assembly in Its Relation to the Demos, in: G. Herman (ed.): Stability and Crisis in the Athenian Democracy, Stuttgart 2011, 87–102. Eremin (2002) A.  Eremin: Settlements of Spartan Perioikoi. Poleis or Komai?, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta Beyond the Mirage, Swansea 2002, 267–283. Errington (1986) M. Errington: Geschichte Makedoniens. Von den Anfängen bis zum Untergang des Königreiches, München 1986. Erxleben (1973) E.  Erxleben: Das Kapital der Bank des Pasion und das Privatvermögen des Trapeziten, Klio 55 (1973), 117–134. Erxleben (1974) E. Erxleben: Die Rolle der Bevölkerungsklassen im Außenhandel Athens im 4. Jahrhundert v.u.Z., in: E. C. Welskopf (ed.): Hellenische Poleis, Darmstadt 1974, 460–520. Erxleben (1975a) E. Erxleben: Das Verhältnis des Handels zum Produktionsaufkommen in Attica im 5. und 4. Jahrhundert v.u.Z., Klio 57 (1975), 365–398. Erxleben (1975b) E. Erxleben: Die Kleruchien auf Euböa und Lesbos, Klio 57 (1975), 83–100. Falk/Fehr/Fischbacher (2008) A.  Falk/E.  Fehr/U.  Fischbacher: Testing Theories of Fairness. Intentions Matter, Games and Economic Behavior 62 (2008), 287–303.

Bibliography

299

Falkner (1999) C.  Falkner: Astyochus, Sparta’s Incompetent Nauarch?, Phoenix 53 (1999), 206–221. Fantasia (1984) U.  Fantasia: Mercanti e “sitonai” nelle città greche. In margine a tre doumenti epigrafici della prima età ellenistica, CCC 5 (1984), 283–311. Fantasia (1987) U. Fantasia: Il grano die Leucone e la finanze die Atene. Noti a Demosthene 20,33, ASNP 17 (1987), 89–117. Fantasia (1989) U. Fantasia: Finanze Cittadine, liberalità privata e sitos demosios. Considerazioni su alcuni documenti epigrafici, Serta Historica 2 (1989), 47–84. Fantasia (1993) U. Fantasia: Grano Siciliano in Grecia nel Ve IVsecolo, ASNP 28 (1993), 9–31. Fantasia (2004) U. Fantasia: Appaltatori, grano pubblico, finanze cittadine: Ancora sul nomos di Agirrio, MediterrAnt 7 (2004), 513–540. Faraguna (1992) M. Faraguna: Atene nell’età di Alessandro. Problemi politici, economici, finanziari, Roma 1992. Faraguna (1999) M. Faraguna: Intorno alla nuova legge ateniese sulla tassazione del grano, Dike 2 (1999), 63–97. Faraguna (2000) M.  Faraguna: Aproposito degli archivi nel mondo greco. Terra e registrazioni fondiarie, Chiron 30 (2000), 65–115. Faraguna (2011) M. Faraguna: Lykourgan Athens?, in: V. Azoulay/P. Ismard (eds.): Clisthène et Lycurgue d’Athènes, Paris 2011, 67–86. Faraguna (2014) M. Faraguna: Alienation of Public and Sacred Landed Properties in Greek Cities: A Response to Leopold Migeotte, in: M.  Gagarin/A.  Lanni (eds.): Symposion 2013, Wien 2014, 303–312. Fawcett (2016) P.  Fawcett: „When I Squeeze You with Eisphora “. Taxes and Tax Policy in Classical Athens, Hesperia 85 (2016), 153–199. Fellmeth (2012) U.  Fellmeth: Die natürlichen Ressourcen Athens und ihre wirtschaftliche Nutzbarmachung in Xenophons Poroi, in: E. Olshausen/V. Sauer (eds.): Die Schätze der Erde, Stuttgart 2012, 119–135. Ferckel (1937) F.  Ferckel: Lysias und Athen. Des Redners politische Stellung zum Gaststaat, Würzburg 1937. Ferrucci (1998) S. Ferrucci: L’Atene di Iseo. L’organizzazione del privato nella prima metà del IVsec. a.C, Studi e testi di storia antica 9, Pisa 1998. Figueira (1984) T.  J. Figueira: Mess Contributions and Subsistence at Sparta, TAPhA 114 (1984), 87–109. Figueira (1986a) T. J. Figueira: Population Patterns in Late Archaic and Classical Sparta, TAPhA 116 (1986), 165–213. Figueira (1986b) T.  J. Figueira: “Sitopolai” and “Sitophylakes” in Lysias’ “Against the Graindealers”. Governmental Intervention in the Athenian Economy, Phoenix 40 (1986), 149–171. Figueira (1991) T.  J. Figueira: A Typology of Social Conflict in Greek Poleis, in: A.  Molho/K.  A. Raaflaub/J.  Emlen (eds.): City States in Classical Antiquity and Medieveal Italy, Stuttgart 1991, 289–307. Figueira (1998) T. J. Figueira: The Power of Money: Coinage and Politics in the Athenian Empire, Philadelphia 1998. Figueira (2002) T.  J. Figueira: Iron Money and the Ideology of Consumption in Laconia, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta Beyond the Mirage, Swansea 2002, 137–170. Figueira (2005) T. J. Figueira: The Imperial Commercial Tax and the Finances of the Athenian Hegemony, Incidenza dell’ Antico 3 (2005), 83–133. Fink (1963) J. Fink: Lieferanten der Athena, Gymnasium 70 (1963), 133–136. Finley (1952) M.  I. Finley: Studies in Land and Credit in Ancient Athens, 500–200 B.  C. The Horos Inscriptions, New York 1952. Finley (1953) M. I. Finley: Land, Debt, and the Man of Property in Classical Athens, Political Science Quarterly 68 (1953), 249–268.

300

Bibliography

Finley (1968) M.  I. Finley: Sparta and Spartan Society, in: J.-P.  Vernant (ed.): Problèmes de la guerre en Grèce ancienne, Paris/Den Haag 1968, 143–160, reprint in: M.  I. Finley (ed.): Economy and Society in Ancient Greek, London 1981, 24–40. Finley (1973) M. I. Finley: The Ancient Economy, Berkeley/Los Angeles 1973. Finley (1979) M. I. Finley (ed.): The Buecher-Meyer Controversy, New York 1979. Fischer (2012) J. Fischer: Behinderung und Gesellschaft im klassischen Athen. Bemerkungen zur 24. Rede des Lysias, in: R. Breitwieser (ed.): Behinderungen und Beeinträchtigungen, Oxford 2012, 41–45. Fisher (1989) N. R. E. Fisher: Drink, Hybris, and the Promotion of Harmony in Classical Sparta, in: A. Powell (ed.): Classical Sparta, London 1989, 26–50. Fisher (2007) N. R. E. Fisher: Aeschines: Against Timarchos, Oxford/New York 2007. Fittschen (1995) K. Fittschen: Eine Stadt für Schaulustige und Müßiggänger. Athen im 3. und 2. Jh. v. Chr., in: M. Wörrle/P. Zanker (eds.): Stadtbild und Bürgerbild im Hellenismus, München 1995, 55–77. Flaig (1993) E.  Flaig: Die spartanische Abstimmung nach der Lautstärke. Überlegungen zu Thukydides 1,87, Historia 42 (1993), 139–160. Flaig (2000) E.  Flaig: Pierre Bourdieu ‹Entwurf einer Theorie der Praxis› (1972), in: W. Ehrhardt/H. Jaumann (eds.): Jahrhundertbücher. Große Theorien von Freud bis Luhmann, München 2000, 358–382. Flaig (2005) E. Flaig: Demokratischer Imperialismus. Der Modellfall Athen, in: R. Faber (ed.): Imperialismus in Geschichte und Gegenwart, Würzburg 2005, 43–57. Flaig (2013a) E.  Flaig: Die Mehrheitsentscheidung. Entstehung und kulturelle Dynamik, Paderborn 2013. Flaig (2013b) E.  Flaig: Die Mehrheitsentscheidung  – ihr multiple Genesis und ihre kulturelle Dynamik, in: E. Flaig (ed.): Genesis und Dynamiken der Mehrheitsentscheidung, Schriften des Historischen Kollegs 85, München 2013, VII–XXXII. Flaig (2018) E.  Flaig: Totalitäre Demokratie. Eine Spurenlese zum Verhältnis von Freiheit und Gesetz, in: I. Jordović/U. Walter (eds.): Feindbild und Vorbild. Die athenische Demokratie und ihre intellektuellen Gegner, HZ Beiheft 74, Berlin/Boston 2018, 269–309. Flament (2007) C. Flament: Une économie monétarisée. Athènes à l’époque classique (440–338). Contribution à l’étude du phénomène monétaire en Grèce ancienne, Collection d’études classiques 22, Louvain-Namur 2007. Flament (2019) C. Flament: The Athenain Coinage. From Mines to Markets, in: S. Günther/D. Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019, 189–209. Flashar (1984) H.  Flashar: Die Poetik des Aristoteles und die griechische Tragödie, Poetica 16 (1984), 1–23. Flower (1991) M. A. Flower: Revolutionary Agitation and Social Change in Classical Sparta, in: M. A. Flower/M. Toher (eds.): Georgica, London 1991, 78–97. Flower (2002) M. A. Flower: The Invention of Tradition in Classical and Hellenistic Sparta, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta Beyond the Mirage, Swansea 2002, 191–217. Föllinger (2006) S. Föllinger: Sokrates als Ökonom? Eine Analyse der didaktischen Gestaltung von Xenophons Oikonomikos, WJA 30 (2006), 5–23. Föllinger (2016) S. Föllinger: Ökonomie bei Platon, Berlin 2016. Foraboschi (1984) D.  Foraboschi: Archeologia della cultura economica. Ricerche economiche ellenistiche, in: B. Virgilio (ed.): Studi ellenistici, Pisa 1984, 75–105. Fornara/Yates (2007) C.  W. Fornara/D.  C. Yates: FGrHist 328 (Philochorus) F 181,GRBS 47 (2007), 31–37. Fornis/Casillas (1997) C.  Fornis/J.-M.  Casillas: An Appreciation to the Social Function of the Spartan syssitia, AHB 11 (1997), 37–46. Forrest (1980) W. G. Forrest: A History of Sparta. 950–192 B.C, London 1980. Forsén (1996) B. Forsén: The Sanctuary of Zeus Hypsistos and the Date and Construction of Pnyx III, in: B. Forsén/G. R. Stanton (eds.): The Pnyx in the History of Athens, Helsinki 1996, 47–55.

Bibliography

301

Fortenbaugh/Huby/Long (1985) W. W. Fortenbaugh/P. M. Huby/A. A. Long (eds.): Theophrastus of Eresus. On His Life and Work, RUSCH 2, New Brunswick/London 1985. Förtsch (2001) R. Förtsch: Kunstverwendung und Kunstlegitimation im archaischen und frühklassischen Sparta, Mainz 2001. Fournier/Hamon (2007) J.  Fournier/P.  Hamon: Les orphelins de guerre de Thasos: un nouveau fragment de la stèle des Braves (ca 360–350 av. J.C.), BCH 131 (2007), 309–381. Fox/Guyer (1978) J.  Fox/M.  Guyer: Public Choice and Cooperation in n-Person Prisoner’s Dilemma, Journal of Conflict Resolution 22 (1978), 469–481. Foxhall (1992) L. Foxhall: The Control of the Attic Landscape, in: B. Wells (ed.): Agriculture in Ancient Greece, Stockholm 1992, 155–159. Foxhall (1998) L.  Foxhall: The Greek Countryside, in: B.  A. Sparks (ed.): Greek Civilization, Oxford 1998, 99–114. Foxhall (2002) L.  Foxhall: Access to Resources in Classical Greece. The Egalitarianism of the Polis in Practice, in: P.  Cartledge/E.  E. Cohen/L.  Foxhall (eds.): Money, Labour and Land, London/New York 2002, 209–220. Foxhall (2007) L. Foxhall: Olive Cultivation in Ancient Greece. Seeking the Ancient Economy, Oxford 2007. Foxhall/Forbes (1982) L. Foxhall/H. A. Forbes: Sitometria. The Role of Grain as a Staple Food in Classical Antiquity, Chiron 12 (1982), 41–92. Fraisse/Moretti (2007) P. Fraisse/J.-C. Moretti: Le Théâtre, EAD 42, Athens/Paris 2007. Francotte (1909) H. Francotte: Finances des citès grecques, Liège/Paris 1909. Fränkel (1878) M. Fränkel: Der attische Heliasteneid, Hermes 13 (1878), 452–466. Franzen (2019) W.  Franzen: Tax Culture in Classical Athens, in: S.  Günther/D.  Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019, 273–288. Fraser (1995) P.  M. Fraser: Citizens, Demesmen and Metics in Athens and Elsewhere, in: M. H. Hansen (ed.): Sources for the Ancient Greek City-State, Copenhagen 1995, 64–90. French (1991) A. French: Economic Conditions in Fourth Century Athens, G&R 28 (1991), 24–40. Friedland/Alford (1991) R.  Friedland/R.  R. Alford: Bringing Society Back In: Symbols, Practices, and Institutional Contradictions, in: W. W. Powell/P. J. DiMaggio (eds.): The New Institutionalism in Organizational Analysis, Chicago 1991, 232–266. Frier/Kehoe (2007) B.  W. Frier/D.  P. Kehoe: Law and Economic Institutions, in: I. Morris/R. Saller/W. Scheidel (eds.): The Cambridge Economic History of The Greco-Roman World, Cambridge 2007, 113–143. Fröhlich (2000) P. Fröhlich: Remarques sur la reddition des comptes des stratèges athéniens, Dike 3 (2000), 81–111. Fröhlich/C.  Müller (2005) P.  Fröhlich/C.  Müller (eds.): Citoyenneté et particiption a la basse époque hellénistique, Genf. Frolov (1973) E. Frolov: Staat und Ökonomie im Lichte schriftlicher Quellen des 4. Jhs. v.u.Z. Zum Traktat des Xenophon „Über die Einkünfte“, JWG 4 (1973), 175–189. Fuks (1972) A.  Fuks: Isokrates and the Social and Economic Situation in Greece, AncSoc 3 (1972), 17–44. Funke (1980a) P. Funke: Homónoia und Arché. Athen und die griechische Staatenwelt vom Ende des Peloponnesischen Krieges bis zum Königsfrieden (404/3–387/6 v. Chr.), Historia ES 37, Wiesbaden 1980. Funke (1980b) P. Funke: Stasis und politischer Umsturz in Rhodos zu Beginn des IV. Jahrhunderts v. Chr, in: W.  Eck/H.  Galsterer (eds.): Studien zur antiken Sozialgeschichte, Köln/Wien 1980, 59–70. Funke (1983) P. Funke: Konons Rückkehr nach Athen im Spiegel epigraphischer Zeugnisse, ZPE 53 (1983), 149–189. Funke (1984) P.  Funke: Nochmals zu den Wechselfällen rhodischer Politik zu Beginn des IV. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Hermes 112 (1984), 115–119.

302

Bibliography

Funke (2004) P. Funke: Sparta und die Peloponnesische Staatenwelt zu Beginn des 4. Jahrhunderts und der Dioikismos von Mantineia, in: C.  Tuplin (ed.): Xenophon and His World, Stuttgart 2004, 427–435. Funke (2009) P. Funke: Between Mantinea and Leuctra, in: P. Funke/N. Luraghi (eds.): The Politics of Ethnicity and the Crisis of the Peloponnesian League, Cambridge/London 2009, 1–14. Funke (2010) P.  Funke: Bürgerschaft und Bürgersein. Teilnehmen als Teilhaben, in: E.  Stein-­ Hölkeskamp/K.-J. Hölkeskamp (eds.): Die griechische Welt, München 2010, 472–486. Funke (2018) P.  Funke: A Politician in Exile. The Activities of the Athenian Kallistratos of Aphidnai in Macedonia, in: M.  Kalaitzi/P.  Paschidis/C.  Antonetti/A.-M.  Guimier-Sorbets (eds.), Βορειοελλαδικά. Tales from the Land of the Ethne, FS Hatzopoulos, ΜΕΛΕΤΗΜΑΤΑ 78, Athens 2018, 159–166. Gabrielsen (1981) V. Gabrielsen: Remuneration of State Officials in Fourth Century B. C. Athens, Odense University Classical Studies 11, Odense 1981. Gabrielsen (1985) V. Gabrielsen: The Naukrariai and the Athenian Navy, C&M 36 (1985), 21–51. Gabrielsen (1986) V.  Gabrielsen: Φανερά and Ἀφανὴς Οὐσία in Classical Athens, C&M 37 (1986), 99–114. Gabrielsen (1987a) V.  Gabrielsen: The Antidosis Procedure in Classical Athens, C&M 38 (1987), 7–38. Gabrielsen (1987b) V. Gabrielsen: The Diadikasia-Documents, C&M 38 (1987b), 39–51. Gabrielsen (1988) V. Gabrielsen: A Naval Debt and the Appointment of a Syntrierarch in IG II2 1623, C&M 39 (1988), 63–87. Gabrielsen (1989a) V. Gabrielsen: The Number of Athenian Trierarchs after ca. 340 B. C., C&M 40 (1989), 145–159. Gabrielsen (1989b) V.  Gabrielsen: IG II2 1609 and Eisphora Payments in Kind?, ZPE 79 (1989), 93–99. Gabrielsen (1990) V. Gabrielsen: Trierarchic Symmories, C&M 41 (1990), 89–118. Gabrielsen (1992) V. Gabrielsen: The Date of IGII2 1605 Again, ZPE 93 (1992), 69–74. Gabrielsen (1994) V.  Gabrielsen: Financing the Athenian Fleet. Public Taxation and Social Relations, Baltimore 1994. Gabrielsen (1997) V.  Gabrielsen: The Naval Aristocracy of Hellenistic Rhodes, Studies in Hellenistic Civilization 6, Aarhus 1997. Gabrielsen (2001) V. Gabrielsen: Naval Warfare. Its Economic and Social Impact on Greek Cities, in: T.  Bekker-Nielsen/L.  Hannestad (eds.): War as a Cultural and Social Force, Historisk-­ filosofiske skrifter 22, Copenhagen 2001, 72–89. Gabrielsen (2002) V.  Gabrielsen: Socio-Economic Classes and Ancient Greek Warfare, in: K. Ascani (ed.): Ancient History Matters, Roma 2002, 203–220. Gabrielsen (2007) V.  Gabrielsen: Warfare and the State, in: P.  Sabin/H. van Wees/M.  Whitby (eds.): The Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Warfare, vol. 1: Greece, the Hellenistic World, and the Rise of Rome, Cambridge 2007, 248–272. Gabrielsen (2008) V.  Gabrielsen: Die Kosten der athenischen Flotte in klassischer Zeit, in: F.  Burrer/H.  Müller (ed.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 46–73. Gabrielsen (2013) V. Gabrielsen: Finance and Taxes, in: H. Beck (ed.): A Companion to Ancient Greek Government, Chichester/West Sussex 2013, 332–348. Gagarin (2000) M. Gagarin: The Legislation of Demetrius of Phalerum and the Transformation of Athenian Law, in: W. W. Fortenbaugh/E. Schütrumpf (eds.): Demetrius of Phalerum, New Brunswick/London 2000, 347–365. Gagarin (2002) M. Gagarin: Antiphon the Athenian. Oratory, Law, and Justice in the Age of the Sophists, Austin 2002. Gajdukevič (1971) V. F. Gajdukevič: Das Bosporanische Reich, Berlin 1971. Gallant (1991) T.  W. Gallant: Risk and Survival in Ancient Greece: Reconstructing the Rural Domestic Economomy, Stanford 1991.

Bibliography

303

Gallego (2005) J.  Gallego: The Lakedaimonian Perioikoi. Military Subordination and Cultural Dependence, in: V. I. Anastasiadis (ed.): Esclavage antique et discriminations socio-culturelles, Bern 2005, 33–57. Gallo (1983) L. Gallo: Alimentazione e classi sociali. Una nota su orzo e frumento in Grecia, Opus 2 (1983), 449–472. Gallo (1987) L. Gallo: Salari e inflazione. Atene tra Ve IVsec. A.C., ASNP 17 (1987), 19–63. Gallo (1989) L. Gallo: Alimentazione urbana e alimentazione contadina nell’Atene classica, in: O. Longo/P. Scarpi (eds.): Homo edens, Verona 1989, 213–230. Gallo (2000) L.  Gallo: Le imposte dirette nelle poleis greche: un istituto tirannico?, Minima Epigraphica et Papyrologica 4 (2000), 17–36. Gansiniec (1956) Z.  Gansiniec: The Iron Money of the Spartans and the Obolos Currency, Archaeologia 8 (1956), 367–413. Garlan (1972) Y. Garlan: La guerre dans l’antiquité, Paris 1972. Garlan (1989) Y. Garlan: Guerre et économie en Grèce ancienne, Paris 1989. Garland (1995) R.  Garland: The Eye of the Beholder. Deformity and Disability in the Graeco-­ Roman World, Ithaca 1995. Garland (2001) R. Garland: The Piraeus from the Fifth to the First Century B. C., 2nd edition, Bristol 2001. Garnett (2013a) S. Garnett: s. v. Liturgy. Greece and Rome, EAH 8 (2013 a), 4119–4121. Garnett (2013b) S. Garnett: s. v. Metoikos, EAH 8 (2013b), 4482. Garnsey (1988) P. Garnsey: Famine and Food Supply in the Graeco-Roman World. Responses to Risk and Crisis, Cambridge 1988. Garnsey (1998a) P. Garnsey: Grain for Athens, in: P. Garnsey (ed.): Cities, Peasants and Food in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge 1998, 183–200. Garnsey (1998b) P. Garnsey: The Yield of the Land in Ancient Greece, in: P. Garnsey (ed.): Cities, Peasants and Food in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge 1998, 201–213. Gauthier (1976) P. Gauthier: Un commentaire historique des Póroi de Xénophon, Hautes études du monde gréco-romaine 8, Genf/Paris 1976. Gauthier (1981) P.  Gauthier: De Lysias à Aristote (Ath. pol. 51, 4). Le commerce du grain à Athènes et les functions des sitophylaques, RD 59 (1981), 5–28. Gauthier (1984a) P. Gauthier: Le programme de Xénophon dans les Poroi, RPh 58 (1984), 181–199. Gauthier (1984b) P. Gauthier: Les cités hellénistiques: Épigraphie et histoire des institutions et des régimes politiques, Akten des 8. Internationalen Kongresses für griechische und lateinische Epigraphik I (Athens 1982), Athens 1984, 82–107. Gauthier (1985) P. Gauthier: Les cités grecques et leurs bienfaiteurs (IVe–Ier siècle avant J.-C.). Contribution à l’histoire des institutions, Paris 1985. Gauthier (1990) P. Gauthier: L’inscription d’Iasos relative à l’ekklesiastikon (I. Iasos 29), BCH 114 (1990), 417–443. Gauthier (1993a) P. Gauthier: Les cités hellénistiques, in: M. H. Hansen (ed.): The Ancient Greek City-State, Copenhagen 1993, 211–231. Gauthier (1993b) P.  Gauthier: Sur l’institution de misthos de l’assemblée à Athènes (Ath. Pol. 41.3), in: M. Piérart (ed.): Aristote et Athènes, Fribourg 1993, 231–250. Gauthier (2001) P. Gauthier: Bulletin épigraphique, Nr. 164, REG 114 (2001), 509. Gehrke (1976) H.-J. Gehrke: Phokion. Studien zur Erfassung seiner historischen Gestalt, Zetemata 64, München 1976. Gehrke (1978) H.-J. Gehrke: Das Verhältnis von Politik und Philosophie im Wirken des Demetrios von Phaleron, Chiron 8 (1978), 149–193. Gehrke (1985) H.-J. Gehrke: Stasis. Untersuchungen zu den inneren Kriegen in den griechischen Staaten des 5. und 4. Jhdt. v. Chr., Vestigia 35, München 1985. Gehrke (2003) H.-J. Gehrke: Bürgerliches Selbstverständnis und Polisidentität im Hellenismus, in: K.-J. Hölkeskamp/J. Rüsen/E. Stein-Hölkeskamp/H. T. Grütter (eds.): Sinn (in) der Antike, Mainz 2003, 225–254. Gerloff (1952) W.  Gerloff: Ursprung und Anfänge öffentlicher Finanzwirtschaft, in: W. Gerloff/F. Neumark (eds.): Handbuch der Finanzwissenschaft, Tübingen 1952, 202–210.

304

Bibliography

Gernet (1954–1960) L. Gernet: Démosthène, Plaidoyers Civils, Paris 1954–1960. Gernet (1955) L. Gernet: Sur les actions commerciales en droit Athénien, in: L. Gernet: Droit et société dans la Grèce Ancienne, Paris 1955, 173–200. Gierl/Ziyou (2011) H. Gierl/Y. Ziyou: Wie reagieren Personen in einer reziproken Situation?, Der Markt 50 (2011), 19–54. Gintis/Smith/Bowles (2000) H. Gintis/E. A. Smith/S. Bowles: Costly Signaling and Cooperation, Journal of Theoretical Biology 213 (2000), 103–119. Giovannini (1975) A. Giovannini: Athenian Currency in the Late Fifth and Early Fourth Century B. C., GRBS 16 (1975), 185–195. Giovannini (1990) A. Giovannini: Le Parthénon, le Trésor d’Athéna et le tribut des alliés, Historia 39 (1990), 129–148. Giovannini (1997) A.  Giovannini: La participation des alliés au financement du Parthénon: „Aparchè“ ou tribut?, Historia 46 (1997), 145–157. Gish/Ambler (2009) D. A. Gish/W. Ambler: The Political Thought of Xenophon, Polis 26 (2009), 181–184. Gitti (1939) A. Gitti: Iperieci di Sparta e le origini del κοινὸν τῶν Λακεδαιμονίων, RAL15 (1939), 189–203. Glotz (1920) G. Glotz: Le travail dans la Grèce ancienne. Histoire economique de la Grèce depuis la période homérique jusqu’à la conquête romaine, Paris 1920. Glotz (1926) G. Glotz: Ancient Greece at Work. An Economic History of Greece From the Homeric Period to the Roman Conquest, New York 1926. Glover (1917) T. R. Glover: From Pericles to Philipp, New York 1917. Glowacki (2003) K.  Glowacki: A Personification of Demos on a New Attic Document Relief, Hesperia 72 (2003), 447–466. Goette (2007a) H. R. Goette: Choregic Monuments and the Athenian Democracy, in: P. Wilson (ed.): The Greek Theatre and Festivals, Oxford/New York 2007, 122–149. Goette (2007b) H.  R. Goette: Votive Offerings of Victors and Choregoi of the Panathenaia, in: O. Palagia/A. Choremi-Spetsierei (eds.): The Panathenaic Games, Oxford 2007, 117–126. Gogos (2008) S. Gogos: Das Dionysostheater von Athen. Architektonische Gestalt und Funktion, Wien 2008. Göhler/Kühn (1999) G.  Göhler/R.  Kühn: Institutionenökonomie, Neo-Institutionalismus und die Theorie politischer Institutionen, in: T.  Edeling (ed.): Institutionenökonomie und Neuer Institutionalismus, Opladen 1999, 17–42. Golden (1990) M. Golden: Children and Childhood in Classical Athens, Baltimore/London 1990. Goldhill (1987) S. Goldhill: The Great Dionysia and Civic Ideology, JHS 107 (1987), 58–76. Goldscheid (1926–1929) R. Goldscheid: Staat, öffentlicher Haushalt und Gesellschaft. Wesen und Aufgabe der Finanzwissenschaft vom Standpunkte der Soziologie, in: W.  Gerloff/F.  Meisel (ed.): Handbuch der Finanzwissenschaft, Tübingen 1926–1929, 146–184. Goligher (1907) W. A. Goligher: Studies in Attic Law. II: The Antidosis, Hermathena 14 (1907), 481–515. Gomme (1945–1956) A. W. Gomme: A Historical Commentary on Thucydides. Books I–V 24, Oxford 1945–1956. Gomme/Andrewes/Dover (1970) A.  W. Gomme/A.  Andrewes/K.  J. Dover: A Historical Commentary on Thucydides, Books V 25–VII, Oxford 1970. Gomme/Andrewes/Dover (1981) A.  W. Gomme/A.  Andrewes/K.  J. Dover: A Historical Commentary on Thucydides, Book VIII, Oxford 1981. Gottesman (2014) A. Gottesman: Politics and the Street in Democratic Athens, Cambridge 2014. Gottschalk (2000) H. B. Gottschalk: Demetrius of Phalerum. A Politician among Philosophers and a Philosopher among Politicians, in: W. W. Fortenbaugh/E. Schütrumpf (eds.): Demetrius of Phalerum, New Brunswick/London 2000, 367–380. Gouldner (1960) A. W. Gouldner: The Norm of Reciprocity: A Preliminary Statement, American Sociological Review 25 (1960), 161–178. Grant (2001) J. A. Grant: Class, Definition of, in: R. J. B. Jones (ed): Routledge Encyclopedia of International Political Economy 1 (2001), 161.

Bibliography

305

A. Gray (1994) A. Gray: Images of Sparta: Writer and Audience in Isocrates’ “Panathenaicus”, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): The Shadow of Sparta, London/New York 1994, 223–271. V. Gray (1989) V. Gray: The Character of Xenophon’s Hellenica, London 1989. Greenberg/Frisch (1972) M. S. Greenberg/D. M. Frisch: Effect of Intentionality on Willingness to Reciprocate a Favour, Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 8 (1972), 99–111. Gribble (1997) D.  Gribble: Rhetoric and History in [Andocides] 4, Against Alcibiades, CQ 45 (1997), 367–391. Grieb (2008) V. Grieb: Hellenistische Demokratie. Politische Organisation und Struktur in freien griechischen Poleis nach Alexander dem Großen, Historia ES 199, Stuttgart 2008. Griffith-Williams (2013) B.  Griffith-Williams: A Commentary on Selected Speeches of Isaios, Mnemosyne Suppl. 364, Leiden 2013. Gröschel (1989) S.-G. Gröschel: Waffenbesitz und Waffeneinsatz bei den Griechen, Frankfurt a. M. et al. 1989. Gruen (1993) E. S. Gruen: The Polis in the Hellenistic World, in: R. M. Rosen/J. Farrell (eds.): Nomodeiktes. FS Ostwald, Ann Arbor 1993, 339–354. Gschnitzer (1958) F.  Gschnitzer: Abhängige Orte im griechischen Altertum, Zetemata 17, München 1958. Gschnitzer (1974) F. Gschnitzer: s. v. Proxenos, RE Suppl. 13 (1974), 629–730. Gschnitzer (2013) F.  Gschnitzer: Griechische Sozialgeschichte. Von der mykenischen bis zum Ausgang der klassischen Zeit, 2nd edition, Stuttgart 2013. Günther (2008a) S. Günther: „Vectigalia nervos esse rei publicae“. Die indirekten Steuern in der Römischen Kaiserzeit von Augustus bis Diokletian, Philippika 26, Wiesbaden 2008. Günther (2008b) S. Günther: Kriegsfolge Finanzkrise? Zum angeblichen Bankensterben in Athen nach der Schlacht von Leuktra 371 v. Chr., MBAH 26 (2008), 49–53. Günther (2010) S. Günther: Die Stütze des Staates. ‚Reichensteuern‘ im klassischen Athen, Antike Welt 2/2010, 8–13. Günther (2012a) S.  Günther: Einleitung, in: S.  Günther (eds.): Ordnungsrahmen antiker Ökonomien. Ordnungskonzepte und Steuerungsmechnismen antiker Wirtschaftssysteme im Vergleich, Philippika 53, Wiesbaden 2012, 1–4. Günther (2012b) S.  Günther: Zwischen Theorie und Praxis. Der Perserkönig als idealer Ökonom in Xenophons Schriften, in: S. Günther (ed.): Ordnungsrahmen antiker Ökonomien. Ordnungskonzepte und Steuerungsmechnismen antiker Wirtschaftssysteme im Vergleich, Philippika 53, Wiesbaden 2012, 83–96. Günther (2014a) S. Günther: Framing the Financial Thoughts of Aeneas Tacticus: New Approaches of Theory to Economic Discourses in Antiquity, JAC 29 (2014), 77–86. Günther (2014b) S.  Günther: Kulturgeschichtliche Dimensionen antiker Schlachten  – eine Bestandsaufnahme, in: M. Füssel/M. Sikora (eds.): Kulturgeschichte der Schlacht, Krieg in der Geschichte 78, Paderborn et al. 2014, 27–52. Günther (2015) S.  Günther: Feldherr, Manager, Ökonom: Timotheus und die Wirtschaft des Krieges im Griechenland des 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Münzen Revue 47,4 (2015), 13–16. Günther (2016a) S. Günther: Die Söldner und das liebe Geld. Überlegungen zum Zusammenhang zwischen Münzprägung, Söldnertum und Marktgeschehen im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., in: B.  Eckhardt/K.  Martin (ed.): Eine neue Prägung. Innovationspotentiale von Münzen in der griechisch-römischen Antike, Philippika 102, Wiesbaden 2016, 93–108. Günther (2016b) S. Günther: Sonderwirtschaftszonen. Antike Konzeptionen und Konstruktionen am Beispiel des athenischen Piräus, in: K. Droß-Krüpe/S. Föllinger/K. Ruffing (eds.): Antike Wirtschaft und ihre kulturelle Prägung  – The Cultural Shaping of the Ancient Economy, Philippika 98, Wiesbaden 2016, 113–130. Günther (2017a) S. Günther: (K)einer neuen Theorie wert? Neues zur Antiken Wirtschaftsgeschichte anhand Dig. 50,11,2 (Callistr. 3 cognit.), Gymnasium 124 (2017), 131–144. Günther (2017b) S.  Günther: Research Survey: The Ancient Economy  – New Studies and Approaches. Ancient Greece, JAC 32 (2017) 69–81. Günther (2019) S.  Günther: Narrating Checks and Balances? The Setup of Finance-related Administrative Documents and Institutions in 5th and 4th Century BC Athens, in:

306

Bibliography

S.  Günther/D.  Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019, 211–227. Günther/Rohde (2019) S. Günther/D. Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019. Günther/Weise (2014) S.  Günther/F.  Weise: Zwischen aristokratischem Führungsanspruch und demokratischem Gleichheitsideal  – Überlegungen zur Gymnasiarchie im 5./4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., in: K.  Harter-Uibopuu/Th. Kruse (eds.): Sport und Recht in der Antike. Beiträge zum 2. Wiener Kolloquium zur Antiken Rechtsgeschichte, Wiener Kolloquien zur Antiken Rechtsgeschichte 2, Wien 2014, 59–87. Gutas/Lang/Schneider (2016) D. Gutas/J. Lang/J.-P. Schneider: Théophraste d’Érèse, in: R. Goulet (ed.): Dictionnaire des philosophes antiques 6 (2016), 1034–1123. Gygax (2016) M. D. Gygax: Benefaction and Rewards in the Ancient Greek City. The Origins of Euergetism, Cambridge 2016. Haake (2007) M. Haake: Der Philosoph in der Stadt. Untersuchungen zur öffentlichen Rede über Philosophen und Philosophie in der hellenistischen Poleis, Vestigia 56, München 2007. Haasis/Rieske (2015) L.  Haasis/C.  Rieske: Historische Praxeologie. Zur Einführung, in: L. Haasis/C. Rieske (eds.): Historische Praxeologie, Paderborn 2015, 7–54. Habicht (1995a) C. Habicht: Athen. Die Geschichte der Stadt in hellenistischer Zeit, München 1995. Habicht (1995b) C. Habicht: Ist ein „Honoratiorenregime“ das Kennzeichen der Stadt im späteren Hellenismus?, in: M.  Wörrle/P.  Zanker (eds.): Stadtbild und Bürgerbild im Hellenismus, München 1995, 87–92. Habinek (2008) T. Habinek: Ancient Rhetoric and Oratory, Malden/Oxford 2008. C. Hackel (2006) C. Hackel: Die Bedeutung August Boeckhs für den Geschichtstheoretiker Johann Gustav Droysen. Die Enzyklopädie-Vorlesungen im Vergleich, Würzburg 2006. U. Hackl (1987) Hackl: Die Aufhebung der attischen Demokratie nach dem Lamischen Krieg 322 v. Chr., Klio 69 (1987), 58–71. Hagmaier (2008) M.  Hagmaier: Rhetorik und Geschichte. Eine Studie zu den Kriegsreden im ersten Buch des Thukydides, Untersuchungen zur antiken Literatur und Geschichte 94, Berlin/ NewYork 2008. Hajdú (2002) I.  Hajdú: Kommentar zur 4. Philippischen Rede des Demosthenes, Texte und Kommentar 23, Berlin/New York 2002. Hakkarainen (1997) M. Hakkarainen: Private Wealth in the Athenian Public Sphere During the Late Classical and the Early Hellenistic Period, in: J. Frösén (ed.): Early Hellenistic Athens. Symptoms of a Change, Helsinki 1997, 1–32. Hall (2000) J.  M. Hall: Sparta, Lakedaimon and the Nature of Perioikic Dependency, in: P. Flenstedt-Jensen (ed.): Further Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis, Stuttgart 2000, 73–89. Hallof (1990) K. Hallof: Der Verkauf konfiszierten Vermögens vor den Poleten in Athen, Klio 72 (1990), 402–426. Hamel (1995) D. Hamel: Strategoi on the Bema. The Separation of Political and Military Authority in Fourth-Century Athens, AH B9 (1995), 25–39. Hamel (1998) D.  Hamel: Athenian Generals. Military Authority in the Classical Period, Mnemosyne Suppl. 182, Leiden 1998. Hamilton (1970) C. D. Hamilton: Spartan Politics and Policy, 405–401 B. C., AJPh 91 (1970), 294–314. Hamilton (1979) C.  D. Hamilton: Sparta’s Bitter Victories. Politics and Diplomacy in the Corinthian War, Ithaca 1979. Hamilton (1987) C. D. Hamilton: Social Tensions in Classical Sparta, Ktèma 12 (1987), 31–41. Hamilton (1991) C. D. Hamilton: Agesilaus and the Failure of Spartan Hegemony, Ithaca 1991. Hamilton (1992) C.  D. Hamilton: Lysander, Agesilaus, Spartan Imperialism and the Greeks of Asia Minor, AncW 23 (1992), 35–50. Hamilton (1996) C.  D. Hamilton: The Ideology of Spartan Conservatism, AncW 27 (1996), 147–155.

Bibliography

307

Hamilton (1997) C. D. Hamilton: Sparta, in: L. A. Tritle (ed.): The Greek World in the Fourth Century, London/New York 1997, 41–65. Hammond (1950) N. G. L. Hammond: The Lycurgean Reform at Sparta, JHS 70 (1950), 42–64. Hammond (1989) N. G. L. Hammond: The Macedonian State. Origins, Institutions and History, Oxford 1989. Hammond/Griffith/Walbank (1972–1988) N.  G. L.  Hammond/G.  T. Griffith/F.  W. Walbank: A History of Macedonia, Oxford 1972–1988. Hamon (2007) P. Hamon: Élites dirigeantes et processus d’aristocratisation à l’époque hellénistique, in: H.-L. Fernoux/C. Stein (eds.): Aristocratie antique. Modèles et exemplarité sociale, Dijon 2007, 79–100. Hamon (2009) P.  Hamon: Démocraties grecques après Alexandre: à propos de trois ouvrages récents, Topoi 16 (2009), 347–382. Hampl (1937) F. Hampl: Die lakedämonischen Periöken, Hermes 72 (1937), 1–49. Hampl (1939) F. Hampl: Poleis ohne Territorium, Klio 32 (1939), 1–60. Hanink (2014) J. Hanink: Lycurgan Athens and the Making of Classical Tragedy, Cambridge 2014. Hannestad (2007) L.  Hannestad: Timber as a Trade Resource of the Black Sea, in: V. Gabrielsen/J. Lund (ed.): The Black Sea in Antiquity, Aarhus 2007, 85–100. Hansen (1971–80) M.  H. Hansen: Athenian Nomothesia in the Fourth Century B.  C. and Demosthenes’ Speech Against Leptines, C&M 32 (1971–80), 87–104. Hansen (1974) M.  H. Hansen: The Sovereignty of the People’s Court in Athens in the Fourth Century B. C. and the Public Action Against Unconstitutional Proposals, Odense University Classical Studies 4, Odense 1974. Hansen (1975) M.  H. Hansen: Eisangelia. The Sovereignty of People’s Court in Athens in the Fourth Century B.  C. and the Impeachment of Generals and Politicans, Odense University Classical Studies 6, Odense 1975. Hansen (1976a) M. H. Hansen: Apagoge, Endeixis and Ephegesis against Kakourgoi, Atimoi and Pheugontes, Odense University Classical Studies 8, Odense 1976. Hansen (1976b) M.  H. Hansen: How Many Athenians Attended the ecclesia ?, first print in: GRBS17 (1976), 115–134, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia. A Collection of Articles 1976–83, Copenhagen 1983, 1–20 with 21–23. Hansen (1976c) M. H. Hansen: The Theoric Fund and the ‘graphe paranomon’ against Apollodorus, GRBS 17 (1976), 235–246. Hansen (1977) M. H. Hansen: How often did the ecclesia meet?, first print in: GRBS18 (1977), 43–70, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia. A Collection of Articles 1976–83, Copenhagen 1983, 35–62 with 62–72. Hansen (1978) M.  H. Hansen: Nomos and psephisma in Fourth-Century Athens, first print in: GRBS19 (1978), 315–330, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia. A Collection of Articles 1976–83, Copenhagen 1983, 161–176 with 177. Hansen (1979a) M. H. Hansen: Misthos for Magistrates in Classical Athens, Symbolae Osloenses 54 (1979), 5–22. Hansen (1979b) M.  H. Hansen: Did the Athenian ecclesia Legislate after 403/2?, first print in: GRBS 20 (1979), 27–53, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia. A Collection of Articles 1976–83, Copenhagen 1983, 179–205 with 206. Hansen (1979c) M. H. Hansen: How often did the Athenian dicasteria meet?, GRBS 20 (1979), 243–246. Hansen (1980a) M. H. Hansen: Perquisites for Magistrates in Fourth-Century Athens, C&M 32 (1980), 105–125. Hansen (1980b) M.  H. Hansen: Seven Hundred Archai in Classical Athens, GRBS 21 (1980), 151–173. Hansen (1982) M. H. Hansen: The Athenian ecclesia and the Assembly-Place on the Pnyx, first print in: GRBS 23 (1982), 241–249, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia. A Collection of Articles 1976–83, Copenhagen 1983, 25–33 with 34.

308

Bibliography

Hansen (1983a) M.  H. Hansen: The Athenian ‘Politicians’ 403–322, first print in: GRBS 24 (1983), 33–55, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia II. A Collection of Articles 1983–89, Copenhagen 1989, 1–23 with 24. Hansen (1983b) M. H. Hansen: Rhetores and Strategoi in Fourth-Century Athens, first print in: GRBS24 (1983), 151–180, reprint with addenda, in: M.  H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia II. A Collection of Articles 1983–89, Copenhagen 1989, 25–33 with 34–72. Hansen (1983c) M. H. Hansen: Two Notes on the Athenian dikai emporikai, in: P. Dimakis (ed.): Symposion 1979, Köln/Wien 1983, 167–175. Hansen (1984a) M. H. Hansen: Die athenische Volksversammlung im Zeitalter des Demosthenes, Xenia 13, Konstanz 1984. Hansen (1984b) M. H. Hansen: The number of rhetores in the Athenian ecclesia, 355–322 BC, first print in: GRBS25 (1984), 123–155, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia II. A Collection of Articles 1983–89, Copenhagen 1989, 93–127. Hansen (1985a) M. H. Hansen: Athenian Nomothesia, GRBS 26 (1985), 345–371. Hansen (1985b) M. H. Hansen: Two Notes on the Pnyx, first print in: GRBS26 (1985), 241–250, reprint with addenda, in: M.  H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia II.  A Collection of Articles 1983–89, Copenhagen 1989, 129–140 with 141. Hansen (1985c) M. H. Hansen: Demography and Democracy. The Number of Athenian Citizens in the Fourth Century B. C., Herning 1985. Hansen (1986) M. H. Hansen: The Construction of Pnyx II and the Introduction of Assembly Pay, first print in: C&M 37 (1986), 89–98, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia II. A Collection of Articles 1983–89, Copenhagen 1989, 143–152 with 153. Hansen (1987a) M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Assembly, Oxford 1987. Hansen (1987b) M. H. Hansen: How Often Did the Athenian ekklesia Meet? A Reply, first print in: GRBS 28 (1987), 35–50, reprint with addenda, in: M. H. Hansen: The Athenian Ecclesia II. A Collection of Articles 1983–89, Copenhagen 1989, 177–192 with 193–194. Hansen (1988) M. H. Hansen: Three Studies in Athenian Demography, Historisk-filosofiske meddelelser 56, Copenhagen 1988. Hansen (1989) M. H. Hansen: Was Athens a Democracy?, Copenhagen 1989. Hansen (1994) M. H. Hansen: Polis, Politeuma and Politeia. A Note on Arist. Pol. 1278b 6–14, in: D. Whitehead (ed.): From Political Architecture to Stephanus Byzantius, Stuttgart 1994, 91–98. Hansen (1995) M. H. Hansen: Die Athenische Demokratie im Zeitalter des Demosthenes. Struktur, Prinzipien und Selbstverständnis, Berlin 1995. Hansen (1996) M.  H. Hansen: Reflections on the Number of Citizens Accomodated in the Assembly Place on the Pnyx, in: B. Forsén/G. R. Stanton (eds.): The Pnyx in the History of Athens, Helsinki 1996, 23–33. Hansen (2006a) M.  H. Hansen: Studies in the Population of Aigina, Athens and Eretria, Copenhagen 2006. Hansen (2006b) M.  H. Hansen: The Shotgun Method. The Demography of the Ancient Greek City-State Culture, Columbia/London 2006. Hansen (2008) M. H. Hansen: An Update on the Shotgun Method, GRBS 48 (2008), 259–286. Hansen (2009) M.  H. Hansen: A Note on Agyrrhios’ Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 BC, in: P. J. Rhodes/L. G. Mitchell/L. Rubinstein/J. K. Davies (eds.): Greek History and Epigraphy, Swansea 2009, 145–154. Hansen (2013) M. H. Hansen: Reflections on Aristotle’s Politics, Copenhagen 2013. Hansen (2014) M.  H. Hansen: Misthos for Magistrates in Fourth-Century Athens?, GRBS 54 (2014), 404–419. Hanson (1998) V. D. Hanson: Warfare and Agriculture in Classical Greece, Berkeley 1998. Hanson (2001) V. D. Hanson: Der Krieg in der griechischen Antike, Berlin 2001. Harbaugh/Mayr/Burghart (2007) W. T. Harbaugh/U. Mayr/D. R. Burghart: Neural Responses to Taxation and Voluntary Giving Reveal Motives for Charitable Donations, Science 316 (2007), 1622–1625. H.  F. Harding (1973) H.  F. Harding: The Speeches of Thucydides. With an Introduction and Introductions for the Main Speeches and Military Harangues, Lawrence 1973.

Bibliography

309

P. E. Harding (1985) P. E. Harding: From the End of the Peloponnesian War to the Battle of Ipsus, Translated documents of Greece and Rome 2, Cambridge/New York 1985. P. E. Harding (1988) P. E. Harding: Athenian Defensive Strategy in the Fourth Century, Phoenix 42 (1988), 61–71. P. E. Harding (1995) P. E. Harding: Athenian Foreign Policy in the Fourth Century, Klio 77 (1995), 105–125. P. E. Harding (2015) P. E. Harding: Athens Transformed, 404–262 BC. From Popular Sovereignty to the Dominion of Wealth, New York/London 2015. Hardy/Van Vugt (2006) C.  L. Hardy/M.  Van Vugt: Nice Guys Finish First. The Competitive Altruism Hypothesis, Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 32 (2006), 1402–1413. D. Harris (1994) D. Harris: Freedom of Information and Accountability. The Inventory Lists of the Parthenon, in: R. Osborne/S. Hornblower (eds.): Ritual, Finance, Politics, Oxford 1994, 213–226. D. Harris (1995) D. Harris: The Treasures of the Parthenon and Erechtheion, Oxford Monographs on Classical Archaeology, Oxford/New York 1995. E. M. Harris (1986) E. M. Harris: How Often Did the Athenian Assembly Meet?, CQ 36 (1986), 363–377. E. M. Harris (1991) E. M. Harris: When Did the Athenian Assembly Meet? Some New Evidence, AJPh 112 (1991), 325–341. E. M. Harris (1995) E. M. Harris: Aeschines and Athenian Politics, New York 1995. E. M. Harris (1996) E. M. Harris: Demosthenes and the Theoric Fund, in: R. W. Wallace/E. M. Harris (eds.): Transitions to Empire, Norman/London 1996, 57–76. E. M. Harris (1999) E. M. Harris: Notes on the New Grain-Tax Law, ZPE 128 (1999), 269–272. E.  M. Harris (2000) E.  M. Harris: The Authenticity of Andokides’ De Pace, in: P.  Flensted-­ Jensen/T. H. Nielsen/L. Rubinstein (eds.): Polis & Politics, Copenhagen 2000, 479–505. E.  M. Harris (2002) E.  M. Harris: Workshop, Marketplace and Household. The Nature of Technical Specialization in Classical Athens and Its Influence on Economy and Society, in: P.  Cartledge/E.  E. Cohen/L.  Foxhall (eds.): Money, Labour and Land, London/New York 2002, 67–99. E. M. Harris (2013) E. M. Harris: The Rule of Law in Action in Democratic Athens, Oxford 2013. E. M. Harris (2016) E. M. Harris: From Democracy to the Rule of Law? Constitutional Change in Athens During the Fifth and Fourth Centuries BCE, in: C.  Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 73–87. A. R. W. Harrison (1968–1971) A. R. W. Harrison: The Law of Athens, vol. 1: The Family and Property, vol. 2: Procedure, Oxford 1968–1971. J.  A. Harrison (1977) J.  A. Harrison: The Athenian Law Courts in the Fourth century B.  C, London 1977. D.  Harvey (1993) D.  Harvey: The Sykophant and Sykophancy: Vexatious Redifinition?, in: P. Cartledge/P. Millett/S. Todd (eds.): Nomos, Cambridge 1993, 103–121. F.  D. Harvey (1976) F.  D. Harvey: The Maritime Loan in Eupolis’ Marikas, ZPE 23 (1976), 231–233. Hasebroek (1928) J.  Hasebroek: Staat und Handel im alten Griechenland. Untersuchungen zur antiken Wirtschaftsgeschichte, Tübingen 1928. Hasebroek (1931) J.  Hasebroek: Griechische Wirtschafts- und Gesellschaftsgeschichte bis zur Perserzeit, Tübingen 1931. Hasebroek (1933) J.  Hasebroek: Review of A.  Andreades: Geschichte der griechischen Staatswirtschaft. Von der Heroenzeit bis zur Schlacht bei Chaironeia, München 1931., HZ148 (1933), 321–323. Hasskamp (2005) D. Haßkamp: Oligarchische Willkür – demokratische Ordnung. Zur athenischen Verfassung im 4. Jh. v. Chr., Darmstadt 2005. Hatzopoulos/Knoepfler/Marigo-Papadopoulos (1990) M. B. Hatzopoulos/D. Knoepfler/V. Marigo-­ Papadopoulos: Deux site pour Méthone de Macédoine, BCH 114 (1990), 639–668. Hauben (1976) H. Hauben: The Expansion of Macedonian Sea-Power Under Alexander the Great, AncSoc 7 (1976), 79–185.

310

Bibliography

Häuser (1977) K. Häuser: Abriß der geschichtlichen Entwicklung der öffentlichen Finanzwirtschaft, in: F. Neumark (ed.): Handbuch der Finanzwissenschaft, Tübingen 1977, 3–25. Hedtkamp (1980) G. Hedtkamp: Klassifikation der öffentlichen Einnahmen, in: F. Neumark (ed.): Handbuch der Finanzwissenschaft, Tübingen 1980, 63–81. Heinen (1996) H. Heinen: Statues de Pairisadès I et de ses fils érigées sur proposition de Démosthène (Dinarque, contre Démosthène 43), in: P. Carlier (ed.): Le IVe siècle av. J.-C. Approches historiographiques, Nancy 1996, 357–368. Heitsch (1984) E.  Heitsch: Antiphon aus Rhamnus, Abhandlungen der Geistes- und Sozialwissenschaftlichen Klasse/Akademie der Wissenschaften und der Literatur 1984.3, Mainz et al. 1984. Heller (2009) A. Heller: La cité grecque d’époque impériale: vers une société d’ordres?, Annales 64 (2009), 341–373. Henning (1994) D.  Henning: Immobilienerwerb durch Nichtbürger in der klassischen und hellenistischen Polis, Chiron 24 (1994), 305–344. Henry (1981) A. S. Henry: Invitations to the Prytaneion at Athens, Antichthon 15 (1981), 100–110. Herman (1994) G. Herman: How Violent Was Athenian Society?, in: R. Osborne/S. Hornblower (eds.): Ritual, Finance, Politics, Oxford 1994, 99–117. Herman (1995) G. Herman: Honour, Revenge and the State in Fourth-Century Athens, in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 43–66. Herman (1996) G. Herman: Ancient Athens and the Values of Mediterranean Society, Mediterranean Historical Review 11 (1996), 5–36. Herman (1998) G. Herman: Reciprocity, Altruism and the Prisoner’s Dilemma. The Special Case of Ancient Athens, in: C.  Gill/N.  Postlethwaite/R.  Seaford (eds.): Reciprocity in Ancient Greece, Oxford 1998, 199–226. Herman (2002) G. Herman: Ritualised Friendship and the Greek City, Cambridge 2002. Herman (2009) G.  Herman: Morality and Behaviour in Democratic Athens. A Social History, Cambridge 2009. Herrmann-Otto (1998) E. Herrmann-Otto: Verfassung und Gesellschaft Spartas in der Kritik des Aristoteles, Historia 47 (1998), 18–40. Heskel (1997) J. Heskel: The North Aegean Wars, 371–360 B.C, Historia ES 102, Stuttgart 1997. Hibler (1992) D. Hibler: Three Reliefs From Sparta, in: J. M. Sanders (ed.): Philolakon: Lakonian Studies in Honour of Hector Catling, London 1992, 115–122. Hill (2002) P. B. Hill: Rational-Choice-Theorie, Bielefeld 2002. Hillmann (1994) K.-H.  Hillmann: s. v. Klasse, in: K.  Hillmann: Wörterbuch der Soziologie, Stuttgart 1994, 412–414. Hind (1994) J.  Hind: The Bosporan Kingdom, in: D.  M. Lewis/J.  Boardman/S.  Hornblower/ M. Ostwald (eds.): The Fourth Century B. C., Cambridge 1994, 476–511. Hintzen-Bohlen (1996) B. Hintzen-Bohlen: Retrospektive Tendenzen im Athen der Lykurg-Ära, in: M. Flashar/H.-J. Gehrke/E. Heinrich (eds.): Retrospektive, München 1996, 87–112. Hintzen-Bohlen (1997) B. Hintzen-Bohlen: Die Kulturpolitik des Eubulos und des Lykurg. Die Denkmäler- und Bauprojekte in Athen zwischen 355 und 322 v. Chr., Berlin 1997. Hochschulz (2007) B.  Hochschulz: Kallistratos von Aphidnai. Untersuchungen zu seiner politischen Biographie, Quellen und Forschungen zur Antiken Welt 51, München 2007. Hodkinson (1983) S.  Hodkinson: Social Order and the Conflict of Values in Classical Sparta, Chiron 13 (1983), 239–281. Hodkinson (1986) S. Hodkinson: Land Tenure and Inheritance in Classical Sparta, CQ 36 (1986), 378–406. Hodkinson (1992) S.  Hodkinson: Sharecropping and Sparta’s Economic Exploitation of the Helots, in: J.  M. Sanders (ed.): Philolakon: Lakonian Studies in Honour of Hector Catling, London 1992, 123–134. Hodkinson (1993) S.  Hodkinson: Warfare, Wealth, and the Crisis of Spartiate Society, in: J. Rich/G. Shipley (eds.): War and Society in the Greek World, London 1993, 146–176.

Bibliography

311

Hodkinson (1994) S. Hodkinson: “Blind Ploutos”? Contemporary Images of the Role of Wealth in Classical Sparta, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): The Shadow of Sparta, London/New York 1994, 183–222. Hodkinson (1996) S. Hodkinson: Spartan Society in the Fourth Century. Crisis and Continuity, in: P. Carlier (ed.): Le IVe siècle av. J.-C. Approches historiographiques, Nancy 1996, 85–101. Hodkinson (1998) S.  Hodkinson: Lakonian Artistic Production and the Problem of Spartan Austerity, in: N. Fisher/H. van Wees (eds.): Archaic Greece, London 1998, 93–117. Hodkinson (2000) S. Hodkinson: Property and Wealth in Classical Sparta, London 2000. Hölkeskamp (1999) K.-J.  Hölkeskamp: Schiedsrichter, Gesetzgeber und Gesetzgebung im archaischen Griechenland, Historia ES 131, Stuttgart 1999. Hölkeskamp (2010) K.-J. Hölkeskamp: Lykurg – der Mythos vom Verfassungsstifter und Erzieher, in: E.  Stein-Hölkeskamp/K.-J.  Hölkeskamp (eds.): Die griechische Welt, München 2010, 316–335. Holladay (1977) A. J. Holladay: Spartan Austerity, CQ 27 (1977), 111–126. Holleaux (1938–1957) M. Holleaux: Études d’épigraphie et d’histoire grecques, Paris 1938–1957. Holzinger (1893) C. von Holzinger: Aristoteles’ und Herakleides’ lakonische und kretische Politien, Philologus 52 (1893), 58–117. Hommel (1981) H.  Hommel: Griechische Rhetorik und Beredsamkeit, in: E.  Vogt (ed.): Griechische Literatur 1981, 337–376. Hooker (1982) J. T. Hooker: Sparta. Geschichte und Kultur, Stuttgart 1982. Hopkins (1978) K.  Hopkins: Economic Growth and Towns in Classical Antiquity, in: P. Abrams/E. A. Wrigley (eds.): Towns in Societies. Essays in Economic History and Historical Sociology, Cambridge 1978, 35–77. Hopper (1953) R. J. Hopper: The Attic Silver Mines in the Fourth Century B. C., ABSA 48 (1953), 200–254. Hopper (1961) R. J. Hopper: The Mines and Miners of Ancient Athens, G&R 8 (1961), 138–151. Hopper (1968) R. J. Hopper: The Laureion Mines. A Reconsideration, ABSA 63 (1968), 293–326. Hopper (1982) R. J. Hopper: Handel und Industrie im klassischen Griechenland, München 1982. Hornblower (1991–2008) S.  Hornblower: A Commentary on Thucydides, 3 vols., Oxford 1991–2008. Horsley (1982) G. H. R. Horsley: The Second Athenian Confederacy, in: G. H. R. Horsley (ed.): Hellenica. Essays on Greek Politics and History, North Ryde 1982, 131–150. Horster (2004) M.  Horster: Landbesitz griechischer Heiligtümer in archaischer und klassischer Zeit, RGVV53, Berlin/New York 2004. Horster (2008) M. Horster: Review of V. Grieb: Hellenistische Demokratie. Politische Organisation und Struktur in freien griechischen Poleis nach Alexander dem Großen, Historia ES199, Stuttgart 2008, in: H-Soz-Kult, 19.09.2008, http://www.hsozkult.de/publicationreview/id/ rezbuecher-10903. Horstmann (1988) A. Horstmann: August Boeckh und die Antike-Rezeption im 19. Jahrhundert, in: K. Christ/A. Momigliano (eds.): L’Antichità nell’Ottocento in Italia e Germania, Bologna/ Berlin 1988, 39–75. Horváth (2014) L. Horváth: Der neue Hypereides. Textedition, Studien und Erläuterungen, Texte und Kommentare 50, Berlin 2014. Huber (1939) O. Huber: Die wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse Athens vom Ende des Peloponnesischen Krieges bis zum Königsfrieden. Dargestellt vor allem auf Grund der attischen Redner, Diss. München 1939. Hull/Boll (1994) B. B. Hull/F. Boll: Hell, Religion, and Cultural Change, Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics 150 (1994), 447–464. Humble (1997) N.  Humble: Xenophon’s View of Sparta. A Study of the Anabasis, Hellenica and Respublica Lacedaemoniorum, Diss. McMaster University 1997 (http://hdl.handle. net/11375/14129. Humble (2004) N. Humble: The Author, Date and Purpose of Chapter 14 of the Lakedaimonion Politeia, in: C. Tuplin (ed.): Xenophon and His World, Stuttgart 2004, 215–228.

312

Bibliography

Humble (2007) N.  Humble: Xenophon, Aristotle and Plutarch on Sparta, in: P.  Cartledge/ N. Birgalias/K. Buraselis (eds.): The Contribution of Ancient Sparta to Political Thought and Practice, Pyrgos 2007, 291–301. Humphreys (1970) S.  C. Humphreys: Economy and Society in Classical Athens, ASNP 39 (1970), 1–26. Humphreys (1977) S.  C. Humphreys: Public and Private Interests in Classical Athens, CJ 73 (1977), 97–104. Humphreys (1985) S. C. Humphreys: Lycurgus of Butadae, in: C. G. Starr/J. W. Eadie/J. Ober (eds.): The Craft of the Ancient Historian, Lanham 1985, 199–252. Humphreys (2004) S.  C. Humphreys: Lycurgus of Boutadai: An Athenian Aristocrat, in: S. C. Humphreys (ed.): The Strangeness of Gods, Oxford/New York 2004, 77–129. Hunt (1998) P.  Hunt: Slaves, Warfare, and Ideology in the Greek Historians, Cambridge/New York 1998. Hunt (2010) P. Hunt: War, Peace, and Alliance in Demosthenes’ Athens, New York 2010. Hunter (1994) V. Hunter: Policing Athens. Social Control in the Attic Lawsuits, 420–320 B. C., Princeton 1994. Huys (1996) M. Huys: The Spartan Practice of Selective Infanticide and Its Parallels in Ancient Utopian Tradition, AncSoc 27 (1996), 47–74. Hyland (2013) A. Hyland: War and the Horse. Part I: Horses For War. Breeding and Keeping a Warhorse, in: B. Campbell/L. A. Tritle (eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Warfare in the Classical World, Oxford 2013, 493–511. Ieranò (1997) G. Ieranò: Il Ditirambo di Dioniso. Le testimonianze antiche, Pisa/Roma 1997. Igelbrink (2015) C. Igelbrink: Die Kleruchien und Apoikien Athens im 6. und 5. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Rechtsformen und politische Funktionen der athenischen Grünungen, Klio Beihefte 25, Berlin 2015. Irmscher (1971) J.  Irmscher: August Böckh und seine Bedeutung für die Entwicklung der Altertumswissenschaft, JWG 2 (1971), 107–118. Isager (1988) S. Isager: Once Upon a Time. On the Interpretation of [Aristotle], Okonomika II, in F. Zimmer (ed.): Studies in Ancient History and Numismatics, Aarhus 1988, 77–83. Isager (1992) S. Isager: Sacred and Profane Ownership of Land, in: B. Wells (ed.): Agriculture in Ancient Greece. Proceedings of the Seventh International Symposium at the Swedish Intitute at Athens, Stockholm 1992, 119–122. Isager/Hansen (1975) S. Isager/M. H. Hansen: Aspects of Athenian Society in the Fourth Century B. C. AHistorical Introduction to and Commentary on the paragraphe -Speeches and Speech Against Dionysodorus in the corpus Demosthenicum (XXXII–XXXVII and LVI), Translated by J.H. Rosenmeier, Odense University Classical Studies 5, Odense 1975. Isager/Skydsgaard (1992) S. Isager/J. E. Skydsgaard: Ancient Greek Agriculture. An Introduction, London/New York 1992. Isler (2002) H.  P. Isler: Das Dionysos-Theater in Athen, in: F.  Zimmer (ed.): Die griechische Klassik – Idee oder Wirklichkeit, München 2002, 533–541. Ismard (2015) P. Ismard: La démocratie contre les experts. Les esclaves publics en Grèce ancienne, Paris 2015. Ito (2011) S. Ito: Evidence, Theories and the Ancient Economy. A Critical Survey of Recent Work, JASCA 1 (2011), 5–25. Jaccottet (1990) A.-F. Jaccottet: Le lierre de la liberté, ZPE 80 (1990), 150–156. Jackson (1990) D. F. Jackson: The Manuscripts of Xenophon’s Poroi, SIFC 83 (1990), 166–179. Jacob (1928) O. Jacob: Les esclaves publics à Athènes, Paris 1928. Jacquemin (2005) A. Jacquemin: s. v. Métèque, in: J. Leclant (ed.): Dictionnaire de l’Antiquité, Paris 2005, 1409–1410. Jakab (2007) E. Jakab: SEG XLVIII 96: Steuergesetz oder Frachtvertrag?, in: E. Cantarella (ed.): Symposion 2005, Wien 2007, 105–122. Jameson (1988) M.  H. Jameson: Sacrifice and Animal Husbandry in Classical Greece, in: C. R. Whittaker (ed.): Pastoral Economies in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge 1988, 87–119.

Bibliography

313

Jansen (2007) J.  N. Jansen: After Empire. Xenophon’s Poroi and the Reorientation of Athens Political Economy, Diss. University of Texas at Austin 2007. Jardé (1925) A. Jardé: Les céréales dans l’antiquité grecque, Paris 1925. Jehne (1995) M. Jehne: Die Funktion des Berichts über die Kinadon-Verschwörung in Xenophons „Hellenika“, Hermes 123 (1995), 166–174. Jerdee/Rosen (1974) T. H. Jerdee/B. Rosen: Effects of Opportunity to Communicate and Visibility of Individual Decisions on Behavior in the Common Interest, Journal of Applied Social Psychology 59 (1974), 712–716. Jim (2014) Th. S.  F. Jim: Sharing With the Gods. Aparchai and Dekatai in Ancient Greece, Oxford 2014. Johnston (1987) A. W. Johnston: IG ii 2 2311 and the Number of Panathenaic Amphorae, ABSA 82 (1987), 125–129. Johnston (2007) A. W. Johnston: Panathenaic Amphorae, Again, ZPE 161 (2007), 101–104. Johnstone (2003) S. Johnstone: Women, Property, and Surveillance in Classical Athens, ClAnt 22 (2003), 247–274. Johnstone (2011) S. Johnstone: A History of Trust in Ancient Greece, Chicago 2011. A. H. M. Jones (1957) A. H. M. Jones: Athenian Democracy, Oxford 1957. A. H. M. Jones (1968) A. H. M. Jones: Sparta, Oxford 1968. A. H. M. Jones (1969) A. H. M. Jones: The Athenian Democracy and Its Critics, in: A. H. M. Jones (ed.): Athenian Democracy, Oxford 1969, 41–72. E.  E. Jones/Davis (1965) E.  E. Jones/K.  E. Davis: From Acts to Dispositions: The Attribution Process in Person Perception, in: L.  Berkowitz (ed.): Advances in Experimental Social Psychology, New York 1965, 219–266. Jordan (1969) B. Jordan: The Meaning of the Technical Term “Hyperesia” in Naval Contexts of the Fifth and Fourth Centuries. B. C., CSCA 2 (1969), 183–207. Jordan (1975) B. Jordan: The Athenian Navy in the Classical Period. AStudy of Athenian Naval Administration and Military Organization in the Fifth and Fourth Centuries B. C., Berkeley/ Los Angeles/London 1975. Jordan (2001) B. Jordan: Metic Trierarchs, AHB 15 (2001), 131–134. Jordović (2005) I. Jordović: Anfänge der Jüngeren Tyrannis. Vorläufer und erste Repräsentanten von Gewaltherrschaft im späten 5. Jahrhundert v. Chr., Europäische Hochschulschriften. Reihe III: Geschichte und ihre Hilfswissenschaften 1017, Frankfurt a. M. et al. 2005. Jordović (2018) I. Jordović: Platons Kritik des demokratischen Konzepts der Freiheit zu tun, was man will, in: I. Jordović/U. Walter (eds.): Feindbild und Vorbild. Die athenische Demokratie und ihre intellektuellen Gegner, HZBeiheft 74, Berlin/Boston 2018, 183–208. Jordović/Walter (2018) I.  Jordović/U.  Walter (eds.): Feindbild und Vorbild. Die athenische Demokratie und ihre intellektuellen Gegner, HZ Beiheft 74, Berlin/Boston 2018. Jung (2006) M. Jung: Marathon und Plataiai. Zwei Perserschlachten als „lieux de mémoire“ im antiken Griechenland, Hypomnemata 164, Göttingen 2006. Kahrstedt (1913) U.  Kahrstedt: Nachlese auf griechischen Schlachtfeldern, Hermes 48 (1913), 283–291. Kahrstedt (1919) U. Kahrstedt: Die spartanische Agrarwirtschaft, Hermes 54 (1919), 279–294. Kahrstedt (1922) U.  Kahrstedt: Griechisches Staatsrecht. I: Sparta und seine Symmachie, Göttingen 1922. Kahrstedt (1934) U.  Kahrstedt: Staatsgebiet und Staatsangehörigkeit in Athen. Studien zum öffentlichen Recht Athens I, Stuttgart 1934. Kahrstedt (1937) U.  Kahrstedt: Untersuchungen zu den athenischen Behörden, Klio 30 (1937), 10–33. Kaiser (2007) B. A. Kaiser: The Athenian Trierarchy. Mechanism Design for the Private Provision of Public Goods, Journal of Economic History 67 (2007), 445–480. Kalcyk (1982) H.  Kalcyk: Untersuchungen zum attischen Silberbergbau. Gebietsstruktur, Geschichte und Technik, Europäische Hochschulschriften. Reihe III: Geschichte und ihre Hilfswissenschaften 160, Frankfurt a. M. 1982. Kaletsch (1999) H. Kaletsch: s. v. Kea, in: S. Lauffer (ed.): Griechenland, Augsburg 1999, 315–318.

314

Bibliography

Kallet (1983) L. Kallet: Iphikrates, Timotheos, and Athens, GRBS 24 (1983), 239–252. Kallet (1998) L.  Kallet: Accounting for Culture in Fifth-Century Athens, in: D. Boedeker/K. A. Raaflaub (eds.): Democracy, Empire, and the Arts in Fifth-Century Athens, Cambridge/London 1998, 43–58. Kallet (2001) L. Kallet: Money and the Corrosion of Power in Thucydides. The Sicilian Expedition and Its Aftermath, Berkeley 2001. Kallet (2013) L. Kallet: The Origins of the Athenian Economic ARCHE, JHS 133 (2013), 43–60. Kallet-Marx (1993) L.  Kallet-Marx: Money, Expense and Naval Power in Thucydides’ History 1–5.24, Berkeley 1993. Kallet-Marx (1994) L.  Kallet-Marx: Money Talks: Rhetor, Demos, and the Resources of the Athenian Empire, in: R. Osborne/S. Hornblower (ed.): Ritual, Finance, Politics, Oxford 1994, 227–251. Kalligas (1980) P. G. Kalligas: Τὸ ἱερὸ τοῦ ’Απόλλωνα Ὑπερτελεάτα στὴ Λακωνία, Lakonikai Spudai 5 (1980), 10–30. Kalligas (1994) P. G. Kalligas: Η περιoχή τoυ ιερoύ και τoυ θεάτρoυ τoυ Διoνύσoυ στην Aθήνα, in: W. D. E. Coulson et al. (ed.): The Archaeology of Athens and Attica under the Democracy, Oxbow Monographs in Archaeology 37, Oxford 1994, 25–30. Kamen (2013) D. Kamen: Status in Classical Athens, Princeton/Oxford 2013. Kapellos (2014) A. Kapellos: Lysias 21. A Commentary, Berlin 2014. Karayiannis/Hatzis (2012) A. D. Karayiannis/A. N. Hatzis: Morality, Social Norms and the Rule of Law as Transaction Cost-Saving Devices: The Case of Ancient Athens, European Journal of Law and Economics 33 (2012), 621–643. Karousos (1958/59) X. I. Karousos: Λακωνικὸς Ἀπόλλων, Peloponnesiaka 3/4 (1958/59), 9–16. Karvounis (1999) C. Karvounis: Die Dauer der gesetzlichen Befreiung von der Trierarchie, C&M 50 (1999), 61–66. Karvounis (2001) C.  Karvounis: Schlug Demosthenes tatsächlich eine Erhöhung der Symmorienanzahl von 20 auf 100 vor (Demosth. or. 14)?, Klio 83 (2001), 52–67. Karvounis (2002) C.  Karvounis: Demosthenes. Studien zu den Demegorien orr. XIV, XVI, XV, IV, I, II, III, Classica Monacensia. Münchner Studien zur Klassischen Philologie 24, Tübingen 2002. Karvounis (2008) C.  Karvounis: Einleitung, in: Demosthenes. Reden zur Finanzierung der Kriegsflotte, eingel., hrgs. und übers. von C. Karvounis, Texte zur Forschung 90, Darmstadt 2008, 11–47. Kearns (1989) E. Kearns: The Heroes of Attica, Bulletin ICS Suppl. 57, London 1989. Keen (1993) A.  G. Keen: ‘Grain for Athens’. The Importance of the Hellespontine Route in Athenian Foreign Policy Before the Peloponnesian War, Electronic Antiquity 1 (1993), 1–4 (https://scholar.lib.vt.edu/ejournals/ElAnt/V1N6/keen.html). Kehoe/Ratzan/Yiftach (2015) D.  P. Kehoe/D.  M. Ratzan/U.  Yiftach: Introduction: Transaction Costs, Ancient History, and the Law, in: D. P. Kehoe/D. M. Ratzan/U. Yiftach (eds.): Law and Transaction Costs in the Ancient Economy, Ann Arbor 2015, 1–35. D.  H. Kelly (1981) D.  H. Kelly: Policy-Making in the Spartan Assembly, Antichthon 15 (1981), 47–61. Th. Kelly (1979) Th. Kelly: Peloponnesian Naval Strength and Sparta’s Plans for Waging War Against Athens in 431 B. C., in: M. H. Powell/R. H. Sack (eds.): Studies in Honour of Tom B. Jones, Neuenkirchen/Vlyn 1979, 245–255. Kennedy (1994) G. Kennedy: A New History of Classical Rhetoric, Princeton 1994. Kennedy (1996) G. Kennedy: The Art of Persuasion in Greece, Ann Arbor 1996. Kennell (1995) N.  M. Kennell: The Gymnasium of Virtue. Education and Culture in Ancient Sparta, Chapel Hill 1995. Kennell (2010) N. M. Kennell: Spartans. A New History. Ancient Cultures, New York 2010. Kiechle (1963) F. Kiechle: Lakonien und Sparta. Untersuchungen zur ethnischen Struktur und zur politischen Entwicklung Lakoniens und Spartas bis zum Ende der archaischen Zeit, Vestigia 5, München 1963. Kienast (1974) D. Kienast: s.v. Presbeia, RE Suppl. 13 (1974), 499–628.

Bibliography

315

Kindstrand (1982) J.  F. Kindstrand: The Stylistic Evaluation of Aeschines in Antiquity, Studia Graeca Upsaliensia 18, Stockholm 1982. Kindt (2009) J. Kindt: Polis Religion – A Critical Appreciation, Kernos 22 (2009), 9–34. Kirchhoff (1865) U.  Kirchhoff: Über die Rede vom trierarchischen Kranze, ADAW 1 (1865), 65–108. Kirchner (1901–1903) J. Kirchner: Prosopographia Attica, Berlin 1901–1903. Kirchner (1907) J. Kirchner: s. v. Eubulos (8), RE VI 1 (1907), 876–877. Knell (1979) H. Knell: Perikleische Baukunst, Darmstadt 1979. Knell (1995) H. Knell: Überlegungen zur öffentlichen Architektur des 4. Jahrhunderts in Athen, in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 475–514. Knell (2000) H.  Knell: Athen im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr.  – eine Stadt verändert ihr Gesicht. Archäologisch-kulturgeschichtliche Betrachtungen, Darmstadt 2000. Köhler (1879) U. Köhler: Eine attische Marineurkunde, AM 4 (1879), 79–89. Köhler (1883) U. Köhler: Aus den attischen Marineinschriften, AM 8 (1883), 165–180. Kohns (1964) H. P. Kohns: Die staatliche Lenkung des Getreidehandels in Athen (zu Lysias, or. 22), in: H. Braunert (ed.): Studien zur Papyrologie und antiken Wirtschaftsgeschichte, Bonn 1964, 146–166. Kõiv (2000) M. Kõiv: The Origins, Development and Reliability of the Ancient Tradition about the Formation of Spartan Constitution, Studia Humaniora Tartuensia 1 (2000), 1–27. Kolb (1981) F.  Kolb: Agora und Theater, Volks- und Festversammlung, Archäologische Forschungen 9, Berlin 1981. Kolbe (1901) W. Kolbe: Zur athenischen Marineverwaltung, AM 26 (1901), 377–418. Kolonas (1989–1990) L. Kolonas: Ανασκαφή Οινιάδων: τα νεώρια, Archaiognosia 6 (1989–1990), 153–159. Kotsidu (1991) H. Kotsidu: Die musischen Agone der Panathenäen in archaischer und klassischer Zeit. Eine historisch-archäologische Untersuchung, Quellen und Forschungen zur antiken Welt 8, München 1991. Kourouniotes/H.  A. Thompson (1932) K.  Kourouniotes/H.  A. Thompson: The Pnyx in Athens. A Study Based on Excavations Conducted by the Greek Archaeological Service, Hesperia 1 (1932), 90–217. Kowalzig/P.  Wilson (2013) B.  Kowalzig/P.  Wilson: Introduction. The World of Dithyramb, in: B. Kowalzig/P. Wilson (eds.): Dithyramb in Context, Oxford 2013, 1–27. Kraay (1966) C. M. Kraay: Greek Coins. With photographs by M. Hirmer, New York 1966. Kränzlein (1963) A.  Kränzlein: Eigentum und Besitz im griechischen Recht des fünften und vierten Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Berliner juristische Abhandlungen 8, Berlin 1963. Kraut (1997) R.  Kraut: Aristotle, Politics, Books VIIand VIII.  Translated with a Commentary, Oxford 1997. Kremmydas (2012) C.  Kremmydas: Commentary on Demosthenes Against Leptines. With Introduction, Text, and Translation, Oxford 2012. Kroll (1977) J. H. Kroll: An Archive of the Athenian Cavalry, Hesperia 46 (1977), 83–140. Kroll (2011) J.  H. Kroll: The Reminting of Atheninan Silver Coinage, 353 B.  C., Hesperia 80 (2011), 229–259. Kromayer (1903) J.  Kromayer: Studien über Wehrkraft und Wehrverfassung der griechischen Staaten vornehmlich im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., Klio 3 (1903), 47–67. G. Kron (2011) G. Kron: The Distribution of Wealth at Athens in Comparative Perspective, ZPE 179 (2011), 129–138. U.  Kron (1976) U.  Kron: Die zehn attischen Phylenheroen. Geschichte, Mythos, Kult und Darstellungen, MDAI(A) Beiheft 5, Berlin 1976. U. Kron (1979) U. Kron: Demos, Pnyx und Nymphenhügel. Zu Demos-Darstellungen und zum ältesten Kultort des Demos in Athen, MDAI(A) 94, 1979, 49–75. Kröner (1969) H.-O. Kröner: Dialog und Rede. Zur Deutung des Isokrateischen Panathenaikos, A&A 15 (1969), 102–121. Kuenzi (1923) A. Kuenzi: ΕΠΙΔΟΣΙΣ, Bern 1923 (reprint New York 1979).

316

Bibliography

Kuhn (2012) C. Kuhn: Politische Kommunikation und öffentliche Meinung in der antiken Welt. Einleitende Bemerkungen, in: C.  Kuhn (ed.): Politische Kommunikation und öffentliche Meinung in der antiken Welt, Stuttgart 2012, 11–30. Kurihara (2014) A.  Kurihara: Pity and “Charis” in the Classical Athenian Courts, JASCA 2 (2014), 67–87. Kyle (1987) D. G. Kyle: Athletics in Ancient Athens, Leiden 1987. Kyle (2007) D. G. Kyle: Sport and Spectacle in the Ancient World, Malden/Oxford 2007. Kyparissis/Peek (1941) N. Kyparissis/W. Peek: Attische Urkunden, MDAI(A) 66 (1941), 218–239. Kyriazis (2009) N.  K. Kyriazis: Financing the Athenian State. Public Choice in the Age of Demosthenes, European Journal of Law and Economics 27 (2009), 109–127. Kyriazis/Karayiannis (2011) N. K. Kyriazis/A. D. Karayiannis: Democracy, Institutional Changes and Economic Development. The Case of Ancient Athens, Journal of Economic Asymmetries 8 (2011), 61–91. Kyriazis/Zouboulakis (2004) N.  K. Kyriazis/M.  S. Zouboulakis: Democracy, Sea Power and Institutional Change. An Economic Analysis of the Athenian Naval Law, European Journal of Law and Economics 17 (2004), 117–132. Lagia (2015) A. Lagia: Diet and the polis : An Isotopic Study of Diet in Athens and Laurion during the Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman Periods, in: A. Papathanasiou/M. Richards/S. C. Fox (eds.): Archaeodiet in the Greek World: Dietary Reconstruction from Stable Isotope Analysis, Hesperia Suppl. 49, Princeton 2015, 119–146. Laing (1965) D. R. Laing: A New Interpretation of the Athenian Naval Catalogue IG II2 1951, Diss. University of Cincinnati 1965. Laing (1968) D. R. Laing: A Reconstruction of I.G. II2, 1628, Hesperia 37 (1968), 244–254. Lalonde (1991) G. V. Lalonde: Horoi, in: G. V. Lalonde/M. K. Langdon/M. B. Walbank (eds.): Inscriptions, Princeton 1991, 1–51. Lambert (1996) S. D. Lambert: IG II2 1471A and the Value of Gold at Athens in the 320s B.C:, ZPE 110 (1996), 84–86. Lambert (1997) S.  D. Lambert: Rationes Centesimarum. Sales of Public Land in Lykourgan Athens, Amsterdam 1997. Lambert (2001) S. D. Lambert: Fragmente Athenischer Ehrendekrete aus der Zeit des Lamischen Krieges (zu Ag. XVI 94 und IG II2 292), ZPE 136 (2001), 65–70. Lambert (2006) S.  D. Lambert: Athenian State Laws and Decrees, 352/1–322/1: III Decrees Honouring Foreigners. A. Citizenship, Proxeny and Euergesy, ZPE 158 (2006), 115–158. Lambert (2007) S.  D. Lambert: Athenian State Laws and Decrees, 352/1–322/1: III Decrees Honouring Foreigners B. Other awards, ZPE 159 (2007), 101–154. Lambert (2008) S. D. Lambert: Polis and Theatre in Lykourgan Athens. The Honorific Decrees, in: I. Polinskaya/A. P. Matthaíou (eds.): Mikrós ieromnīmōn, Athens 2008, 52–85. Lambert (2011) S. D. Lambert: Some Political Shifts in Lykourgan Athens, in: V. Azoulay/P. Ismard (eds.): Clisthène et Lycurgue d’Athènes, Paris 2011, 175–190. Lambert (2012a) S.  D. Lambert: Inscribed Athenian Laws and Decrees 352/1–322/1 BC. Epigraphical Essays, Brill Studies in Greek and Roman Epigraphy 2, Leiden/Boston 2012. Lambert (2012b) S.  D. Lambert: Inscribing the Past in Fourth-Century Athens, in: J. Marincola/L. Llewellyn-Jones/C. A. Maciver (eds.): Greek Notions of the Past in the Archaic and Classical Eras, Edinburgh 2012, 253–275. Lambert (2018a) S. D. Lambert: Proposers of Inscribed Laws and Decrees and the Distribution of Political Influence in Late Classical Athens, in: S. D. Lambert (ed.): Inscribed Athenian Laws and Decrees in the Age of Demosthenes. Historical Essays, Brill Studies in Greek and Roman Epigraphy 9, Leiden/Boston 2018, 171–226. Lambert (2018b) S. D. Lambert: Council and Assembly in Late Classical and Hellenistic Athens: An Epigraphical Perspective on Democracy, in: S. D. Lambert (ed.): Inscribed Athenian Laws and Decrees in the Age of Demosthenes. Historical Essays, Brill Studies in Greek and Roman Epigraphy 9, Leiden/Boston 2018, 227–271.

Bibliography

317

Landucci Gattinoni (2015) F.  Landucci Gattinoni: Il ruolo sociale del ‘benefattore’ nell’Atene del primo ellenismo, in: U. Roberto/P. A. Tuci (eds.): Tra marginalità e integrazione, Milano 2015, 57–72. Lane Fox (1996) R.  Lane Fox: Theophrastus’ Characters and the Historian, PCPhS 42 (1996), 127–170. Lang/Crosby (1964) M. Lang/M. Crosby: Weights, Measures and Tokens, The Athenian Agora 10, Princeton 1964. Langdon (1991) M. K. Langdon: Poletai Records, in: G. V. Lalonde/M. K. Langdon/M. B. Walbank (eds.): Inscriptions, Princeton 1991, 53–143. Langdon (1994) M. K. Langdon: Public Auctions in Ancient Athens, in: R. Osborne/S. Hornblower (eds.): Ritual, Finance, Politics, Oxford 1994, 253–265. Lanni (2005) A.  Lanni: Relevance in Athenian Courts, in: M.  Gagarin (eds.): The Cambridge Companion to Ancient Greek Law, Cambridge 2005. Lanni (2006) A. Lanni: Law and Justice in the Courts of Classical Athens, Cambridge 2006. Larsen (1937) J. A. O. Larsen: s.v. Perioikoi, RE 19,1 (1937), 816–833. Laspe/Schubert (2012) D.  Laspe/C.  Schubert: Seemacht, Seeherrschaft und Seestrategie bei Pseudo-Xenophon, Klio 94 (2012), 55–81. Latte (1946/47) K. Latte: Kollektivbesitz und Staatsschatz in Griechenland (1946/47), reprint in: K. latte: Kleine Schriften zu Religion, Recht, Literatur und Sprache der Griechen und Römer, München 1968, 294–312. Lauffer (1974) S.  Lauffer: Die Liturgien in der Krisenperiode Athens. Das Problem von Finanzsystem und Demokratie, in: E. C. Welskopf (ed.): Hellenische Poleis, Darmstadt 1974, 147–159. Lauffer (1975) S.  Lauffer: Das Bergbauprogramm in Xenophons Poroi, in: H.  F. Mussche/ P. Spitaels/F. Goemaere-De Poerck (eds.): Thorikos and the Laurion in Archaic and Classical Times, Ghent 1975, 171–194. Lauffer (1979) S. Lauffer: Die Bergwerkssklaven von Laureion, Forschungen zur antiken Sklaverei 11, Wiesbaden 1979. Lauffer (1980) S. Lauffer: Die Bedeutung der Leiturgien für das Funktionieren der Demokratie, in: U. Margedant (ed.): Die attische Demokratie, Frankfurt a. M. 1980, 63–64. Laum (1952) B.  Laum: Geschichte der öffentlichen Finanzwirtschaft im Altertum und Frühmittelalter, in: W. Gerloff/F. Neumark (eds.): Handbuch der Finanzwissenschaft, Tübingen 1952, 211–235. Laurenti (1968) R. Laurenti: Studi sull’Economico attribuito ad Aristotele, Milano 1968. Lauter (1986) H. Lauter: Die Architektur des Hellenismus, Darmstadt 1986. Lawton (1995) C.  L. Lawton: Attic Document Reliefs. Art and Politics in Ancient Athen, Oxford 1995. Lazenby (1985) J. F. Lazenby: The Spartan Army, Warminster 1985. Lazenby (1997) J. F. Lazenby: The Conspiracy of Kinadon Reconsidered, Athenaeum 85 (1997), 437–447. Leão (2006) D. F. Leão: Dikai emporikai: processos relativos a comerciantes marítimos na Grécia antiga, in: F. d. Oliveira/P. Thiercy/R. Vilaça (eds.): Mar Greco-latino, Coimbra 2006, 127–137. Le Guen (2001) B. Le Guen: Les Associations de Technites Dionysiaques à l’époque hellénistique, 2 vols., Nancy 2001. Le Guen (2014) B.  Le Guen: Theatre, Religion, and Politics at Alexander’s Travelling Royal Court, in: E. Csapo/H. R. Goette/Green J. Richard/P. Wilson (eds.): Greek Theatre in the Fourth Century B. C., Berlin 2014, 249–274. C. Lehmann (1964) C. Lehmann: Die Auseinandersetzung zwischen Wort- und Sachphilologie in der deutschen Klassischen Altertumswissenschaft des 19. Jahrhunderts, Diss. HU Berlin 1964. G. A. Lehmann (1980) G. A. Lehmann: Krise und innere Bedrohung der hellenischen Polis bei Aeneas Tacticus, in: W. Eck/H. Galsterer (eds.): Studien zur antiken Sozialgeschichte, Köln/ Wien 1980, 71–86. G. A. Lehmann (1989) G. A. Lehmann: Aeneas Tacticus und die politisch-soziale Krise der zeitgenössischen Polis-Welt: einige kritische Anmerkungen, Index 17 (1989), 105–115.

318

Bibliography

G. A. Lehmann (1995) G. A. Lehmann: Überlegungen zu den oligarchischen Machtergreifungen im Athen des 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., in: W.  Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 139–150. G. A. Lehmann (1997) G. A. Lehmann: Oligarchische Herrschaft im klassischen Athen. Zu den Krisen und Katastrophen der attischen Demokratie im 5. und 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr, Nordrhein-­ Westfälische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Vorträge G 346, Opladen 1997. G. A. Lehmann (1999) G. A. Lehmann: Demosthenes, in: K. Brodersen (ed.): Große Gestalten der griechischen Antike, München 1999, 201–208. G.  A. Lehmann (2004) G.  A. Lehmann: Demosthenes von Athen. Ein Leben für die Freiheit, München 2004. Lenschau (1953) T. Lenschau: s. v. πορνικὸν τέλος, RE 22 (1953), 265. Leppin (1995) H. Leppin: Zur Entwicklung der Verwaltung öffentlicher Gelder im Athen des 4. Jahrhunders v. Chr., in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 557–571. Leppin (2002) H.  Leppin: Theophrasts „Charaktere“ und die Bürgermentalität in Athen im Übergang zum Hellenismus, Klio 84 (2002), 37–56. Lévy (2003) E. Lévy: Sparte. Histoire politique et sociale jusqu’ à la conquête romaine, Paris 2003. D.  M. Lewis (1957) D.  M. Lewis: On the Financial Offices of Eubulus and Lycurgus, reprint in: D.  M. Lewis: Selected Papers in Greek and Near Eastern History, ed. by P.  J. Rhodes, Cambridge 1997, 212–229. D.  M. Lewis (1971) D.  M. Lewis: Boeckh, Staatshaushaltung der Athener, 1817–1967, reprint in: D.  M. Lewis: Selected Papers in Greek and Near Eastern History, ed. by P.  J. Rhodes, Cambridge 1997, 1–6. D. M. Lewis (1973) D. M. Lewis: The Athenian Rationes Centesimarum, in: M. I. Finley (ed.): Problèmes de la terre en Grèce ancienne, Paris/Den Haag 1973, 187–214. D. M. Lewis (1977) D. M. Lewis: Sparta and Persia, Cincinnati Classical Studies 1, Leiden 1977. D.  M. Lewis (1984) D.  M. Lewis: Democratic Institutions and Their Diffusion, reprint in: D.  M. Lewis.: Selected Papers in Greek and Near Eastern History, ed. by P.  J. Rhodes, Cambridge 1997, 51–59. D. M. Lewis (1990) D. M. Lewis: Public Property in the City, in: O. Murray/S. Price (eds.): The Greek City, Oxford 1990, 245–163. J.  Lewis (2009) J.  Lewis: Poroi, in: D.  A. Gish/W.  Ambler (eds.): The Political Thought of Xenophon, Exeter 2009. N. Lewis (1960) N. Lewis: “Leitourgia” and Related Terms, GRBS 3 (1960), 175–184. N. Lewis (1965) N. Lewis: “Leitourgia” and Related Terms (II), GRBS 6 (1965), 227–230. Liddel (2003) P. P. Liddel: The Places of Publication of Athenian State Decrees from the Fifth Century BCto the 3rd Century AD, ZPE 143 (2003), 79–93. Liddel (2007) P. P. Liddel: Civic Obligation and Individual Liberty in Ancient Athens, Oxford 2007. Linders (1992a) T. Linders: Sacred Finances. Some Observations, in: B. Alroth/T. Linders (eds.): Economics of Cult. Proceedings of the Uppsala Symposium, Boreas 21, Uppsala 1992, 9–12. Linders (1992b) T.  Linders: The Delian Temple Accounts: Some Observations, OpusAth 19 (1992), 69–73. Linfert/Mausbach (1981) A.  Linfert/J.  Mausbach (eds.): Die Skeuothek des Philon im Piräus, Köln 1981. E. Link (1940) E. Link: Untersuchungen zur Symmorienrede (XIV) des Demosthenes, Limburg a. d. Lahn 1940. S. Link (1994a) S. Link: Der Kosmos Sparta. Recht und Sitte in klassischer Zeit, Darmstadt 1994. S. Link (1994b) S. Link: Das griechische Kreta. Untersuchungen zu seiner staatlichen und gesellschaftlichen Entwicklung vom 6. bis zum 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr, Stuttgart 1994. S.  Link (1999a) S.  Link: Der geliebte Bürger. Paideia und paidika in Sparta und auf Kreta, Philologus 143 (1999), 3–25. S. Link (1999b) S. Link: Spartas Untergang, Laverna 10 (1999), 17–37. S. Link (2000) S. Link: Das frühe Sparta. Untersuchungen zur spartanischen Staatsbildung im 7. und 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr, Pharos 13, St. Katharinen 2000.

Bibliography

319

S. Link (2008a) S. Link: Aristoteles, Ephoros und die „Kretische Verfassung“, Gymnasium 115 (2008), 469–479. S.  Link (2008b) S.  Link: Staatliche Institution und innergemeindlicher Diskurs. Politische Entscheidungsfindung in Sparta?, HZ287 (2008), 1–35. S. Link (2011) S. Link: Sparta, von innen gesehen, HZ 293 (2011), 323–371. Lipka (2002) M. Lipka: Xenophon’s Spartan Constitution. Introduction, Text, Commentary, Texte und Kommentar 24, Berlin 2002. Lipsius (1878) J.  H. Lipsius: Die athenische Steuerreform im Jahr des Nausinikos, JKPh 24 (1878), 289–299. Lipsius (1905–1915) J. H. Lipsius: Das attische Recht und Rechtsverfahren, Leipzig 1905–1915 (reprint Hildesheim 1984). Lipsius (1916) J. H. Lipsius: Die attische Steuerverfassung und das attische Volksvermögen, RhM 71 (1916), 161–186. Loening (1987) T.  C. Loening: The Reconciliation Agreement of 403/402 B.  C. in Athens. Its Content and Application, Hermes ES 53, Stuttgart 1987. Lohmann (1995) H. Lohmann: Die Chora Athens im 4. Jh. v. Chr., in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 515–548. Loomis (1992) W. T. Loomis: The Spartan War Fund. IG V 1,1 and a New Fragment, Historia ES 74, Stuttgart 1992. Loomis (1995) W. T. Loomis: Eleusinian Inscriptions. Three Emendations, Hesperia 64 (1995), 131–134. Loomis (1998) W.  T. Loomis: Wages, Welfare Costs and Inflation in Classical Athens, Ann Arbor 1998. Lord/Maher (1991) R.  G. Lord/K.  J. Maher: Leadership and Information Processing. Linking Perceptions and Performance, People and Organizations 1, Boston 1991. Lotze (1962) D. Lotze: ΜΟΘΑΚΕΣ, Historia 11 (1962), 427–435. Lotze (1964) D. Lotze: Lysander und der Peloponnesische Krieg, Abhandlungen der sächsischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Leipzig. Philologisch-historische Klasse 57, Berlin 1964. Lotze (1985) D. Lotze: Die Teilhabe des Bürgers an Regierung und Rechtsprechung in den Organen der direkten Demokratie des klassischen Athen, in: E. Kluwe (ed.): Kultur und Fortschritt in der Blütezeit der griechischen Polis, Berlin 1985, 52–76. Lotze (1990) D.  Lotze: Spielräume sozialer Mobilität in Athen und Sparta, Klio 72 (1990), 135–143. Lotze (1993/4) D.  Lotze: Bürger zweiter Klasse. Spartas Periöken, Akademie gemeinnütziger Wissenschaften zu Erfurt. Sitzungsberichte der Geisteswissenschaftlichen Klasse 2, (1993/94), 37–51. Lovén (2011) B. Lovén: The Ancient Harbours of the Piraeus, vol. I.1: The Zea Shipsheds and Slipways: Architecture and Topography, Monographs of the Danish Institute at Athens 15,1, Athens/Aarhus 2011. Lupi (1996) M.  Lupi: Asternesi dall’Agora. Analogie istituzionali tra Tebe e Sparta, Mètis 11 (1996), 69–82. Luther (2004) A.  Luther: Könige und Ephoren. Untersuchungen zur spartanischen Verfassungsgeschichte, Studien zur Alten Geschichte 2, Frankfurt a. M. 2004. Lyttkens (1994) C.  H. Lyttkens: A Predatory Democracy? An Essay on Taxation in Classical Athens, Explorations in Economic History 31 (1994), 62–90. Lyttkens (1997) C. H. Lyttkens: A Rational-Actor Perspective on the Origin of Liturgies in Ancient Greece, Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics 153 (1997), 462–484. Lyttkens (2010) C.  H. Lyttkens: Institutions, Taxation, and Market Relationships in Ancient Athens, Journal of Institutional Economics 6 (2010), 505–527. Lyttkens (2013) C. H. Lyttkens: Economic Analysis of Institutional Change in Ancient Greece. Politics, Taxation and Rational Behaviour, Routledge Explorations in Economic History 58, New York 2013. Ma (1999) J. Ma: Antiochos III and the Cities of Western Asia Minor, Oxford 1999.

320

Bibliography

Ma (2003) J. Ma: Peer polity interaction in the Hellenistic Age, PP 180 (2003), 9–39. MacDowell (1962) D. M. MacDowell: Andocides, De mysteriis, Oxford 1962. MacDowell (1971) D. M. MacDowell: The Law of Athens, Oxford 1971. MacDowell (1975) D. M. MacDowell: Law-Making at Athens in the Fourth Century B. C., JHS 95 (1975), 62–74. MacDowell (1978) D. M. MacDowell: The Law in Classical Athens, London 1978. MacDowell (1986) D. M. MacDowell: The Law of Periandros about Symmories, CQ 36 (1986), 438–449. MacDowell (1991) D. M. MacDowell: The Athenian Procedure of Phasis, in: M. Gagarin (ed.): Symposion 1990, Köln/Wien 1991, 187–198. MacDowell (2004) D. M. MacDowell: Epikerdes of Kyrene and the Athenian Privilege of Ateleia, ZPE 150 (2004), 127–133. MacDowell (2009) D. M. MacDowell: Demosthenes the Orator, Oxford/New York 2009. Mack (2015) W. Mack: Proxeny and Polis. Institutional Networks in the Ancient Greek World, Oxford 2015. Mackil (2015) E.  M. Mackil: The Greek Polis and Koinon, in: A.  Monson/W.  Scheidel (eds.): Fiscal Regimes and the Political Economy of Premodern States, Cambridge 2015, 469–491. Mader (2006) G.  Mader: Fighting Philip with Decrees. Demosthenes and the Syndrome of Symbolic Action, AJPh 127 (2006), 376–386. Maffi (1997) A.  Maffi: Forme della proprietà, in: S.  Settis (ed.): I Greci: Storia, Cultura, Arte, Società, vol. 2.2: Una storia greca: Definizione (VI–IVsecolo a. C.), Turin 1997, 345–368. Magnetto/Erdas/Carusi (2010) A. Magnetto/D. Erdas/C. Carusi (eds.): Nuove ricerche sulla legge granaria ateniese del 374/3 a.C, Pisa 2010. Malitz (2008) J.  Malitz: Der Preis des Krieges. Thukydides und die Finanzen Athens, in: F.  Burrer/H.  Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 28–45. Mann (2007) C. Mann: Die Demagogen und das Volk. Zur politischen Kommunikation im Athen des 5. Jahrhunderts v. Chr, Klio Beihefte 13, Berlin 2007. Mann (2008) C. Mann: Review of V. Grieb: Hellenistische Demokratie. Politische Organisation und Struktur in freien griechischen Poleis nach Alexander dem Großen, Historia ES199, Stuttgart 2008, in: sehepunkte 8 (2008), Nr. 9, 15.09.2008, http://www.sehepunkte. de/2008/09/13931.html. Mann (2009) C. Mann: Kalokagathia in der Demokratie: Überlegungen zur Medialität der politischen Kommunikation im klassischen Athen, in: C. Mann/M. Haake/R. von den Hoff (eds.): Rollenbilder in der athenischen Demokratie, Wiesbaden 2009, 147–170. Mann (2012) C. Mann: Gleichheiten und Ungleichheiten in der hellenistischen Polis: Überlegungen zum Stand der Forschung, in: C. Mann/P. Scholz (eds.): „Demokratie“ im Hellenismus, Mainz 2012, 11–27. Mann/Scholz (2012) C. Mann/P. Scholz (eds.): „Demokratie“ im Hellenismus, Mainz 2012. Manville (1990) P. B. Manville: Origins of Citizenship in Ancient Athens, Princeton 1990. Marcaccini (2013) C. Marcaccini: Rivoluzione oligarchica o restaurazione della democrazia?, Klio 95 (2013), 405–428. Marchiandi (2002) D. Marchiandi: Fattorie e periboli funerari nella chora die Efestia (Lemno): L’occupazione del territorio in una cleruchia ateniese tra Ve IVsec. A. C., ASAA 80, 487–583. Marek (1984) C.  Marek: Die Proxenie, Europäische Hochschulschriften. Reihe III: Geschichte und ihre Hilfswissenschaften 213, Frankfurt a. M./New York 1984. Markianos (1969) S. S. Markianos: A Note on the Administration of Lycurgus, GRBS 10 (1969), 325–331. Markle (1985) M. M. Markle: Jury Pay and Assembly Pay at Athens, in: P. Cartledge/F. D. Harvey (eds.): Crux, Exeter/London 1985, 265–297. A. Martin (1886) A. Martin: Les cavaliers athéniens, Paris 1886. G.  Martin (2012) G.  Martin: Kritik am Volk, vor dem Volk. Öffentliche Kommunikation und Konfrontation im klassischen Athen, in: C. Kuhn (ed.): Politische Kommunikation und öffentliche Meinung in der antiken Welt, Stuttgart 2012, 67–85.

Bibliography

321

I.  W. Martin/Mehrotra/Prasad (2009) I.  W. Martin/A.  K. Mehrotra/M.  Prasad (eds.): The New Fiscal Sociology. Taxation in Comparative and Historical Perspective, Cambridge 2009. T. R. Martin (1995) T. R. Martin: Coins, Mints, and the Polis, in: M. H. Hansen (ed.): Sources for the Ancient Greek City-State, Copenhagen 1995, 257–291. T.  R. Martin (1996) T.  R. Martin: Why Did the Greek Polis Need Coins?, Historia 45 (1996), 261–283. Matter (1989) P.  Matter: Der Behinderte in der griechischen Gesellschaft der Antike, AU 32 (1989), 54–61. Matthaíou (2006) A. P. Matthaíou: ΛΑΚΟΝΙΚΕΣ ΕΠΙΓΡΑΦΕΣ Nr. 1–6, in: A. P. Matthaíou (ed.): Καττάδε έδοξε τοῖϛ Λακεδαιμονίοιϛ, Athens 2006, 8–20. Matthaíou/Pikoulas (1989) A. P. Matthaíou/G. A. Pikoulas: Ἔδον τοῖς Λακεδαιμονίοις ποττὸν πόλεμον, Horos 7 (1989), 77–124. Mattusch (1994) C.  C. Mattusch: The Eponymous Heroes. The Idea of Sculptural Groups, in: W. D. E. Coulson/O. Palagia/T. L. Shear/H. A. Shapiro/F. J. Frost (eds.): The Archeology of Athens and Attica under the Democracy, Oxbow Monograph 3, Oxford 1994, 73–81. Mausbach (1981) J.  Mausbach: Zu Planung, Datierung und Kapazität der Skeuothek, in: A. Linfert/J. Mausbach (eds.): Die Skeuothek des Philon im Piräus, Köln 1981, 57–60. McDonald (1943) W.  A. McDonald: The Political Meeting Places of the Greeks, The Johns Hopkins University Studies in Archaeology 34, Baltimore 1943. McKechnie (1994) P.  McKechnie: Greek Mercenary Troops and Their Equipment, Historia 43 (1994), 297–305. Meadows (1995) A.  Meadows: Pausanias and the Historiography of Classical Sparta, CQ 45 (1995), 92–113. Mee/Spawforth (2001) C.  Mee/A.  Spawforth: Greece: An Oxford Archaeological Guide, Oxford 2001. Mehl (1996) A. Mehl: Behinderte in der antiken griechischen Gesellschaft, in: M. Liedtke (ed.): Behinderung als pädagogische und politische Herausforderung, Bad Heilbrunn 1996, 119–135. L. Meier (2012) L. Meier: Die Finanzierung öffentlicher Bauten in der hellenistischen Polis, Die hellenistische Polis als Lebensform 3, Berlin 2012. M. Meier (1998) M. Meier: Aristokraten und Damoden. Untersuchungen zur inneren Entwicklung Spartas im 7. Jahrhundert v. Chr. und zur politischen Funktion der Dichtung des Tyrtaios, Stuttgart 1998. M. Meier (2002) M. Meier: s. v. Sparta, DNP 12.2 (2002), 1112–1115. M. Meier (2006) M. Meier: Wann entstand das Homoios-Ideal in Sparta?, in: A. Luther (ed.): Das frühe Sparta, Stuttgart 2006, 113–124. Meiggs (1982) R. Meiggs: Trees and Timber in the Ancient Mediterranean World, Oxford 1982. Meiggs/Lewis (1969) R.  Meiggs/D.  M. Lewis: A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions, Oxford 1969. Meikle (1995) S. Meikle: Aristotle’s Economic Thought, Oxford 1995. Meikle (2002) S. Meikle: Modernism, Economics and the Ancient Economy, in: W. Scheidel/S. von Reden (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Edinburgh 2002, 233–250. Meissner (2008) B. Meissner: Reparationen in der klassischen griechischen Welt und in hellenistischer Zeit, in: F. Burrer/H. Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 246–259. Meister (1990) K.  Meister: Die griechische Geschichtsschreibung. Von den Anfängen bis zum Ende des Hellenismus, Stuttgart/Berlin 1990. Meister (2008) K.  Meister: Die finanzielle Ausgangssituation Athens zu Beginn des Peloponnesischen Krieges, in: F. Burrer/H. Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 19–27. Melville-Jones (1978) J. R. Melville-Jones: The Value of Gold at Athens in 329/8 BC, AJAH 3 (1978), 184–187. Meritt (1936) B. D. Meritt: Greek Inscriptions, Hesperia 5 (1936), 355–430. Meritt (1952) B. D. Meritt: Law Against Tyranny, Hesperia 21 (1952), 355–359.

322

Bibliography

Merkel et al. (2003) W. Merkel/H.-J. Puhle/A. Croissant/C. Eicher/P. Thiery: Defekte Demokratie, vol. 1: Theorien, Opladen 2003. Mertens (2002) N. Mertens: ouk homoioi, agathoi de. The Perioikoi in the Classical Lakedaimonian Polis, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta Beyond the Mirage, Swansea 2002, 285–303. Mette (1977) H.  J. Mette: Urkunden dramatischer Aufführungen in Griechenland, Texte und Kommentare 8, Berlin/NewYork 1977. E. Meyer (1895) E. Meyer: Die wirtschaftliche Entwicklung des Altertums. Ein Vortrag, gehalten auf der dritten Versammlung deutscher Historiker in Frankfurt a. M. am 20. April 1895, reprint in: E. Meyeeer: Kleine Schriften, Jena 1910, 79–168. E.  Meyer (1899) E.  Meyer: Zur Geschichte der attischen Finanzen im fünften Jahrhundert, in: E. Meyer: Forschungen zur Alten Geschichte, vol. 2: Zur Geschichte des fünften Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Halle 1899, 88–148. E.  Meyer (1909) E.  Meyer: Griechische Finanzen, in: J.  Conrad/L.  Elster/W.  Lexis/E.  Loening (eds.): Handwörterbuch der Staatswissenschaften, Jena 1909, 134–146. E.  A. Meyer (2010) E.  A. Meyer: Metics and the Athenian Phialai-Inscriptions. A Study in Athenian Epigraphy and Law, Historia ES 208, Stuttgart 2010. K.  Meyer (1975) K.  Meyer: Xenophons “Oikonomikos”. Übersetzung und Kommentar, Marburg 1975. M. Meyer (1989) M. Meyer: Die griechischen Urkundenreliefs, MDAI(A) Beiheft 13, Berlin 1989. Michell (1957) H. Michell: The Economics of Ancient Greece, Cambridge 1957. Michell (1964) H. Michell: Sparta. to krypton tes politeias ton Lakedaimonion, London 1964. Michels (1911) R.  Michels: Zur Soziologie des Parteiwesens in der modernen Demokratie. Untersuchungen über die oligarchischen Tendenzen des Gruppenlebens, Leipzig 1911. Migeotte (1982) L. Migeotte: Épigraphie et littérature grecques: L’exemple des souscriptions publiques, CEA 14 (1982), 47–51. Migeotte (1983) L.  Migeotte: Souscriptions Athéniennes de la période classique, Historia 32 (1983), 129–148. Migeotte (1984) L. Migeotte: L’emprunt public dans les cités grecques. Recueil des documents et analyse critique, Québec/Paris 1984. Migeotte (1990) L. Migeotte: Le pain quotidien dans les cités hellénistiques. Une “affaire d’Etat”?, Cahiers des études anciennes 24 (1990), 291–300. Migeotte (1991) L. Migeotte: Le pain quotidien dans les cités hellénistiques. Àpropos des fonds permanents pour l’approvisionnement en grain, CCG 2 (1991), 19–41. Migeotte (1992) L.  Migeotte: Les souscriptions publiques dans les cités grecques, Genf/ Quebec 1992. Migeotte (1995) L. Migeotte: Les finances publiques des cités grecques: bilan et perspectives de recherche, Topoi 5 (1995), 7–32. Migeotte (1998) L. Migeotte: Finances sacrées et finances publiques dans les cités grecques, in: Actas del IX Congreso Español de Estudios Clásicos. Historia y Arqueologia, Madrid 1998, 181–185. Migeotte (2002) L. Migeotte: Les finances des cités grecques. Aux périodes classique et hellénistique, Paris 2002. Migeotte (2006) L. Migeotte: Téménè dèmosia, in: P. Brillet-Dubois (ed.): Φιλολογία, Lyon 2006, 187–195. Migeotte (2008) L.  Migeotte: Kriegs- und Verteidigungsfinanzierung in den hellenistischen Städten, in: F.  Burrer/H.  Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 151–160. Migeotte (2009) L. Migeotte: The Economy of the Greek Cities. From the Archaic Period to the Early Roman Empire, Berkeley 2009. Migeotte (2014a) L. Migeotte: Les finances des cités grecques, Paris 2014. Migeotte (2014b) L. Migeotte: L’alienation de biens-fonds publics et sacrés dans les cités grecques aux périodes classique et hellénistique, in: M. Gagarin/A. Lanni (eds.): Symposion 2013, Wien 2014, 287–301.

Bibliography

323

Milinski/Semmann/Krambeck (2002) M.  Milinski/D.  Semmann/H.-J.  Krambeck: Reputation Helps Solve the ‘Tragedy of the Commons’, Nature 415 (2002), 424–426. Millender. E. (2006) Millender. E.: The Politics of Spartan Mercenary Service, in: S. Hodkinson/A. Powell (eds.): Sparta and War, Swansea 2006, 235–266. M. Miller (1971) M. Miller: The Thalassocracies, Studies in Chronography 2, Albany 1971. S. G. Miller (2003) S. G. Miller: The Organization and Functioning of the Olympic Games, in: D.  J. Phillips/D.  Pritchard (eds.): Sport and Festival in the Ancient Greek World, Swansea 2003, 1–40. S. G. Miller (2004) S. G. Miller: Ancient Greek Athletics, London 2004. Millett (1980) P.  Millett: Note on a Greek Text Relating to Credit Transactions, PCPhS 26 (1980), 67–69. Millett (1982) P. Millett: The Attic Horoi Reconsidered in the Light of Recent Discoveries, Opus 1 (1982), 219–230. Millett (1983) P. Millett: Maritime Loans and the Structure of Credit in Fourth-Century Athens, in: P.  Garnsey/C.  R. Wittaker (eds.): Trade and Famine in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge 1983, 36–52. Millett (1989) P. Millett: Patronage and Its Avoidance in Classical Athens, in: A. Wallace-Hadrill (ed.): Patronage in Ancient Society, London 1989, 15–47. Millett (1991) P. Millett: Lending and Borrowing in Ancient Athens, Cambridge 1991. Millett (1993a) P.  Millett: Sale, Credit, and Exchange in Athenian Law and Society, in: P. Cartledge/P. Millett/S. Todd (eds.): Nomos, Cambridge 1993, 167–194. Millett (1993b) P.  Millett: Warfare, Economy, and Democracy in Classical Athens, in: J. Rich/G. Shipley (eds.): War and Society in the Greek World, London 1993, 177–196. Millett (1998) P. Millett: The Rhetoric of Reciprocity in Classical Athens, in: C. Gill/N. Postlethwaite/ R. Seaford (eds.): Reciprocity in Ancient Greece, Oxford 1998, 227–253. Millis (2014) B. W. Millis: Inscribed Public Records of the Dramatic Contests at Athens: IG II2 2318–2323a and IG II2 2325, in: E.  Csapo/H.  R. Goette/Green J.  Richard/P.  Wilson (eds.): Greek Theatre in the Fourth Century B. C., Berlin 2014, 425–446. Millis/Olson (2012) B. W. Millis/S. D. Olson: Inscriptional Records for the Dramatic Festivals in Athens. IG II2 2318–2325 and Related Texts, Leiden 2012. Milns (2000) R.  D. Milns: The Public Speeches of Demosthenes, in: I.  Worthington (ed.): Demosthenes. Statesman and Orator, London 2000, 205–223. Mirhady (2007) D.  C. Mirhady: The Dikast’s Oath and the Question of Fact, in: A. H. Sommerstein/J. Fletcher (eds.): Horkos. The Oath in Greek Society, Exeter 2007, 48–59. Missiou (1992) A.  Missiou: The Subversive Oratory of Andokides. Politics, Ideology, and Decision-Making in Democratic Athens, Cambridge 1992. Mitchell (1962) F.  W. Mitchell: Demades of Paeania and IG II2 1493–5, TAPhA 93 (1962), 213–229. Mitchell (1970) F. W. Mitchell: Lykourgan Athens 338–322 B. C., Cincinnati 1970. Moggi (1979) M. Moggi: L’eisphorá dei coloni ateniesi a Potideia (Oec. 2,2,5 [1347a]), QUCC 30 (1979), 137–142. Moggi (1981) M. Moggi: Alcuni episodi della colonizzazione Ateniese (Salamina-Potidea-Samo), in: G. Cataldi/M. Moggi/G. Nenci/G. Panessa (eds.): Studi sui rapporti interstatali nel mondo antico, Relazioni interstatali nel mondo antico. Fonti e studi 3, Pisa 1981, 1–55. Möller (2007) A. Möller: Classical Greece: Distribution, in: I. Morris/R. Saller/W. Scheidel (eds.): The Cambridge Economic History of The Greco-Roman World, Cambridge 2007, 362–384. Monson/Scheidel (2015a) A.  Monson/W.  Scheidel (eds.): Fiscal Regimes and the Political Economy of Premodern States, Cambridge 2015. Monson/Scheidel (2015b) A.  Monson/W.  Scheidel: Studying Fiscal Regimes, in: A. Monson/W. Scheidel (eds.): Fiscal Regimes and the Political Economy of Premodern States, Cambridge 2015, 3–27. Moreno (2003) A. Moreno: Athenian Bread-Baskets. The Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 B. C. reinterpreted, ZPE 145 (2003), 97–105.

324

Bibliography

Moreno (2007a) A. Moreno: Feeding the Democracy. The Athenian Grain Supply in the Fifth and Fourth Centuries BC, Oxford 2007. Moreno (2007b) A.  Moreno: Athenian Wheat-Tsars. Black Sea Grain and Elite Culture, in: V. Gabrielsen/J. Lund (eds.): The Black Sea in Antiquity, Aarhus 2007, 69–84. Moreno (2009) A.  Moreno: ‘The Attic Neighbour’. The Cleruchy in the Athenian Empire, in: J.  Ma/N.  Papazarkadas/R.  Parker (eds.): Interpreting the Athenian Empire, London 2009, 211–221. Moretti (1999/2000) J.-C. Moretti: The Theater of the Sanctuary of Dionysos Eleuthereus in Late Fifth-Century Athens, ICS 24 (1999/2000), 377–398. Moretti (2010) J.-C. Moretti: Le coût et le financement des théâtres grecs, in: B. Le Guen (ed.): L’argent dans les concours du monde grec, Saint-Denis 2010, 145–187. Morley (2004) N. Morley: Theories, Models, and Concepts in Ancient History. Approaching the Ancient World, London/New York 2004. Morris (2004) I.  Morris: Economic Growth in Ancient Greece, Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics 160 (2004), 709–742. Morris (2005) I.  Morris: Archaeology, Standards of Living, and Greek Economic History, in: J. G. Manning/I. Morris (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Stanford 2005, 91–126. Morris/Manning (2005) I. Morris/J. G. Manning: Introduction, in: J. G. Manning/I. Morris (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Stanford 2005, 1–44. Morris/Saller/Scheidel (2007) I.  Morris/R.  P. Saller/W.  Scheidel: Introduction, in: I.  Morris/R.  P. Saller/W.  Scheidel (eds.): The Cambridge Economic History of The Greco-­ Roman World, Cambridge 2007, 1–12. Morrison (1984) J. S. Morrison: Hyperesia in Naval Contexts in the Fifth and Fourth Centuries B. C., JHS 104 (1984), 48–59. Morrison (1987) J. S. Morrison: Athenian Sea-Power in 323/2 B. C. Dream and Reality, JHS 107 (1987), 88–97. Morrison/Coates (1987) J.  S. Morrison/J.  F. Coates: An Athenian Trireme Reconstructed. The British Sea Trials of “Olympias”, 1987, Oxford 1987. Morrison/Coates (1990) J. S. Morrison/J. F. Coates: Die athenische Triere, Mainz 1990. Morrison/Coates/Rankov (2000) J. S. Morrison/J. F. Coates/N. B. Rankov: The Athenian Trireme. The History and Reconstruction of an Ancient Greek Warship, 2nd edition, Cambridge 2000. Morrison/Williams (1968) J.  S. Morrison/R.  T. Williams: Greek Oared Ships, 900–322 B.  C., Cambridge 1968. Morrow (1960) G. R. Morrow: Plato’s Cretan City. A Historical Interpretation of the Laws, New Jersey 1960. Mosley (1965) D.  J. Mosley: The Size of Embassies in Ancient Greek Diplomacy, TAPhA 96 (1965), 255–266. Mosley (1970) D. J. Mosley: The Size of Athenian Embassies Again, GRBS 11 (1970), 35–42. Mosley (1973) D.  J. Mosley: Envoys and Diplomacy in Ancient Greece, Historia ES 22, Wiesbaden 1973. Mossé (1962) C.  Mossé: La fin de la démocratie athénienne. Aspects sociaux et politiques du déclin de la cité grecque au IVe siècle avant J.-C., Paris 1962. Mossé (1972) C.  Mossé: La vie économique d’Athènes au IVe siècle: crise ou renouveau?, in: F. Sartori (ed.): Praelectiones Patavinae, Roma 1972, 135–144. Mossé (1973) C.  Mossé: Le statut des paysans en Attique au IVe siècle, in: M.  I. Finley (ed.): Problèmes de la terre en Grèce ancienne, Paris/Den Haag 1973, 179–186. Mossé (1977) C.  Mossé: Les périèques lacédémoniens. A propos d’Isocrate, Panathénaique, 177sqq., Ktèma 2 (1977), 121–124. Mossé (1979a) C.  Mossé: Der Zerfall der athenischen Demokratie (404–86 v. Chr.), Zürich/ München 1979. Mossé (1979b) C. Mossé: Les symmories athéniennes, in: H. van Effenterre (ed.): Points de vue sur la fiscalité antique, Paris 1979, 31–42.

Bibliography

325

Mossé (1983) C. Mossé: The ‘World of the Emporium’ in the Private Speeches of Demosthenes, in: P. Garnsey/K. Hopkins/C. R. Whittaker (eds.): Trade in the Ancient Economy, Berkeley/ Los Angeles 1983, 53–63. Mossé (1989) C. Mossé: Lycurge l’Athénien. Homme du passé ou précurseur de l’avenir?, QS 30 (1989), 25–36. Mossé (1995) C.  Mossé: La classe politique a Athenes au IVème siècle, in: W.  Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 67–77. Mossé (2007) C. Mossé: L’image de Sparte dans les Vies parallèles de Plutarque, in: P. Cartledge/ N. Birgalias/K. Buraselis (eds.): The Contribution of Ancient Sparta to Political Thought and Practice, Pyrgos 2007, 303–313. Moysey (1981) R. A. Moysey: The Thirty and the Pnyx, AJA 85 (1981), 31–37. Mueller-Goldingen (2007) C.  Mueller-Goldingen: Xenophon. Philosophie und Geschichte, Darmstadt 2007. H.  Müller (2008) H.  Müller: Gesandtschaftsgeschenke im Kontext kriegerischer Auseinandersetzungen im Altertum, in: F.  Burrer/H.  Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 91–105. H. Müller (2009) H. Müller: Tiere als Kostenfaktor in antiken Kriegen, in: R. Pöppinghege (ed.): Tiere im Krieg, Paderborn 2009, 15–31. T. Müller/Pickel (2007) T. Müller/S. Pickel: Wie lässt sich Demokratie am besten messen? Zur Konzeptqualität von Demokratieindizes, Politische Vierteljahresschrift 48 (2007), 511–539. Murnaghan (2011) S.  Murnaghan: Choroi achoroi : The Athenian Politics of Tragic Choral Identity, in: D. M. Carter (ed.): Why Athens? A Reappraisal of Tragic Politics, Oxford/New York 2011, 245–267. Musiolek (1987) P.  Musiolek: August Boeckh und die antike Wirtschaftsgeschichte, Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift der Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin 36 (1987), 26–28. Nadler (2002) A.  Nadler: Inter-Group Helping Relations as Power Relations: Maintaining or Challenging Social Dominance Between Groups Through Helping, Journal of Social Issues 58 (2002), 487–502. Näf (1997) B.  Näf: Vom Frieden reden  – den Krieg meinen? Aspekte der griechischen Friedensvorstellungen und der Politik des Atheners Eubulos, Klio 79 (1997), 317–340. Nafissi (1991) M.  Nafissi: La nascità del Kosmos. Studi sulla storia e la società di Sparta, Napoli 1991. Nebelin (2018) M.  Nebelin: Demokratisches Entscheiden und antidemokratische Ideologie im klassischen Athen, in: I.  Jordović/U.  Walter (eds.): Feindbild und Vorbild. Die athenische Demokratie und ihre intellektuellen Gegner, HZ Beiheft 74, Berlin/Boston 2018, 109–152. Nee (2009) L.  Nee: Oeconomicus, in: D.  A. Gish/W.  Ambler (eds.): The Political Thought of Xenophon, Exeter 2009. Neils (1992a) J. Neils: The Panathenaia: An Introduction, in: J. Neils (ed.): Goddess and Polis. The Panathenaic Festival in Ancient Athens, Princeton 1992, 13–27. Neils (1992b) J. Neils: Panathenaic Amphorae: Their Meaning, Makers, and Markets, in: J. Neils (ed.): Goddess and Polis. The Panathenaic Festival in Ancient Athens, Princeton 1992, 28–51. Németh (1988) G.  Németh: Die dreißig Tyrannen und die athenische Prosopographie, ZPE 73 (1988), 181–189. Németh (2001) G. Németh: Metics in Athens, AAntHung 41 (2001), 331–348. Németh (2006) G.  Németh: Kritias und die Dreißig Tyrannen. Untersuchungen zur Politik und Prosopographie der Führungselite in Athen 404/403 v. Chr., HABES 43, Stuttgart 2006. Nenci (1974) G.  P. G.  Nenci: Considerazioni sulle monete di cuoio e di ferro nel bacino del Mediterraneo e sulla convenzionalità del loro valore, ASNP 4 (1974), 639–657. Neyer/Lang (2003) F.  J. Neyer/F.  R. Lang: Blood is Thicker Than Water: Kinship Orientation Across Adulthood, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 84 (2003), 310–321. Niebuhr (1811–1832) B. G. Niebuhr: Römische Geschichte, Berlin 1811–1832. Nielsen (2005) T.  H. Nielsen: APolis as a Part of a Larger Identity Group. Glimpses From the History of Lepreon, C&M 56 (2005), 57–89.

326

Bibliography

Niese (1889) B. Niese: Zur Verfassungsgeschichte Lakedämons, HZ 62 (1889), 58–84. Niese (1906) B.  Niese: Neue Beiträge zur Geschichte und Landeskunde Lakedämons, NGG 2 (1906), 101–142. Nilsson (1906) M.  P. Nilsson: Griechische Feste von religiöser Bedeutung mit Ausschluss der attischen, Leipzig 1906 (reprint Stuttgart/Leipzig 1995). Nilsson (1912) M. P. Nilsson: Die Grundlagen des spartanischen Lebens, Klio 12 (1912), 308–340. Nilsson (1967) M.  P. Nilsson: Geschichte der griechischen Religion, vol. 1: Die Religion Griechenlands bis auf die griechische Weltherrschaft, 3rd edition, München 1967. Nippel (1980) W. Nippel: Mischverfassungstheorie und Verfassungsrealität in Antike und früher Neuzeit, Geschichte und Gesellschaft. Bochumer Historische Studien 21, Stuttgart 1980. Nippel (1990) W.  Nippel: Methodenentwicklung und Zeitbezüge im althistorischen Werk Max Webers, Geschichte und Gesellschaft 16 (1990), 355–374. Nippel (2009) W. Nippel: Barthold Georg Niebuhr und die Begründung der modernen Althistorie, in: A. M. Baertschi/C. G. King (eds.): Die modernen Väter der Antike: Die Entwicklung der Altertumswissenschaften an Akademie und Universität im Berlin des 19. Jahrhunderts, Berlin 2009, 87–114. Nippel (2013a) W. Nippel: Barthold Georg Niebuhr und die Begründung der modernen Althistorie, Forschungen zur Brandenburgischen und Preußischen Geschichte 23 (2013), 165–192. Nippel (2013b) W. Nippel: Boeckhs Beitrag zur Alten Geschichte, in: C. Hackel/S. Seifert (eds.): August Boeckh, Berlin 2013, 45–58. Noack (1927) F.  Noack: Eleusis. Die baugeschichtliche Entwicklung des Heiligtumes, Berlin/ Leipzig 1927. Noethlichs (1987) K. L. Noethlichs: Bestechung, Bestechlichkeit und die Rolle des Geldes in der spartanischen Außen- und Innenpolitik vom 7.–2. Jh. v. Chr., Historia 34 (1987), 129–170. North (1986) D.  C. North: The New Institutional Economics, Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics 142 (1986), 230–237. North (1988) D.  C. North: Theorie des institutionellen Wandels. Eine neue Sicht der Wirtschaftsgeschichte, Die Einheit der Gesellschaftwissenschaften 56, Tübingen 1988. North (1992) D. C. North: Institutionen, institutioneller Wandel und Wirtschaftsleistung, Einheit der Gesellschaftswissenschaften 76, Tübingen 1992. North (1995) D. C. North: The New Institutional Economics and Third World Development, in: J.  Harris/J.  Hunter/C.  M. Lewis (eds.): The New Institutional Economics and Third World Development, London/New York 1995, 17–26. North (2005) D. C. North: Understanding the Process of Economic Change, Princeton 2005. Nowak/Sigmund (1998) M. A. Nowak/K. Sigmund: Evolution of Indirect Reciprocity by Image Scoring, Nature 393 (1998), 573–577. Ober (1978) J. Ober: Views of Sea Power in the Fourth-Century Attic Orators, AncW 1 (1978), 119–130. Ober (1982) J. Ober: Athenian Reactions to Military Pressure and the Defense of Attica. 404–322 B. C., Ann Arbor/London 1982. Ober (1985) J.  Ober: Fortress Attica. Defense of the Athenian Land Frontier 404–322 B.C, Leiden 1985. Ober (1989) J. Ober: Mass and Elite in Democratic Athens. Rhetoric, Ideology, and the Power of the People, Princeton 1989. Ober (1994) J. Ober: Power and Oratory in Democratic Athens. Demosthenes 21, Against Meidias, in: I. Worthington (ed.): Persuasion, London/New York 1994, 85–108. Ober (1998) J. Ober: Political Dissent in Democratic Athens. Intellectual Critics of Popular Rule, Princeton 1998. Ober (2008) J. Ober: Democracy and Knowledge. Innovation and Learning in Classical Athens, Princeton 2008. Ober (2010) J. Ober: Wealthy Hellas, TAPhA 140 (2010), 241–286. Ober (2015a) J. Ober: Access, Fairness, and Transaction Costs: Nikophon’s Law on Silver Coinage (Athens, 375/4 B. C.E.), in: D. P. Kehoe/D. M. Ratzan/U. Yiftach (eds.): Law and Transaction Costs in the Ancient Economy, Ann Arbor 2015, 51–79.

Bibliography

327

Ober (2015b) J. Ober: Classical Athens, in: A. Monson/W. Scheidel (eds.): Fiscal Regimes and the Political Economy of Premodern States, Cambridge 2015, 492–522. Ober (2016) J. Ober: Das antike Griechenland. Eine neue Geschichte, Stuttgart 2016. Ober (2019) J. Ober: Income Inequality, Political Equality, and Taxation in Late-classical Athens, in: S.  Günther/D.  Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019, 289–316. O’ Connor (2013) S.  O’Connor: The Daily Grain Consumption of Classical Greek Sailors and Soldiers, Chiron 43 (2013), 327. Oehler (1896) J. Oehler: s.v. ἀτέλεια, RE 2.2 (1896), 1911–1913. Oehler (1925) J. Oehler: s. v. Leiturgie, RE 12 (1925), 1871–1879. Oetjen (2019) R.  Oetjen: An Economic Model of Greek Euergetism, in: R.  Oetjen (ed.): New Perspectives in Seleucid History, Archaeology and Numismatics, FS G. M. Cohen, Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 355, Berlin/Boston 2019, 108–122. Offe (1999) C. Offe: Demokratie und Vertrauen, Transit 18 (1999), 118–131. Oliva (1967) P. Oliva: Das lykurgische Problem, AAntHung 15 (1967), 273–281. Oliva (1971) P. Oliva: Sparta and Her Social Problems, Amsterdam/Prag 1971. G. J. Oliver (2003) G. J. Oliver: Oligarchy at Athens after the Lamian War: Epigraphic Evidence for the Boule and the Ekklesia, in: O. Palagia/S. V. Tracy (eds.): The Macedonians in Athens, 322–229 B. C., Oxford 2003, 40–51. G. J. Oliver (2007) G. J. Oliver: War, Food, and Politics in Early Hellenistic Athens, Oxford 2007. G.  J. Oliver (2011) G.  J. Oliver: Before “Lykourgan Athens”. The Origins of Change, in: V. Azoulay/P. Ismard (eds.): Clisthène et Lycurgue d’Athènes, Paris 2011, 119–131. J. H. Oliver (1960) J. H. Oliver: Demokratia, the Gods and the Free World, Baltimore 1960 (reprint New York 1979). Ollier (1933–1943) F. Ollier: Le Mirage spartiate. Étude sur l’idéalisation de Sparte dans l’antiquité grecque de l’origine jusqu’aux Cyniques, 2 vols., Paris 1933–1943 (reprint New York 1973). Ollier (1934) F. Ollier: Xenophon: La République des Lacédémoniens. Texte et traduction avec une introduction et un commentaire, Paris 1934 (reprint New York 1979). O’ Neil (1995) J.  L. O’Neil: The Origins and Development of Ancient Greek Democracy, Lanham, 1995. Orth (2003) W. Orth (ed.): Isokrates. Neue Ansätze zur Bewertung eines politischen Schriftstellers, Trier 2003. M. J. Osborne (1981) M. J. Osborne: Entertainment in the Prytaneion at Athens, ZPE 41 (1981), 153–170. M.  J. Osborne (1981–1983) M.  J. Osborne: Naturalization in Athens, Verhandelingen van de Koninklijke Academie voor Wetenschappen 98, Brüssel 1981–1983. R. Osborne (1985) R. Osborne: Law in Action in Classical Athens, JHS 105 (1985), 40–58. R. Osborne (1987) R. Osborne: Classical Landscape with Figures. The Ancient Greek City and its Countryside, London 1987. R.  Osborne (1988) R.  Osborne: Social and Economic Implications of the Leasing of Land and Property in Classical and Hellenistic Greece, Chiron 18 (1988), 279–323. R. Osborne (1991) R. Osborne: Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Subsistence: Exchange and Society in the Greek City, in: J. Rich/A. Wallace-Hadrill (eds.): City and Country in the Ancient World, London 1991, 119–145. R. Osborne (1992) R. Osborne: Is it a Farm? The Definition of Agricultural Sites and Settlements in Ancient Greece, in: B. Wells (ed.): Agriculture in Ancient Greece, Stockholm 1992, 21–28. R.  Osborne (1993) R.  Osborne: Vexatious Litigation in Classical Athens: Sykophancy and the Sykophant, in: P. Cartledge/P. Millett/S. Todd (eds.): Nomos, Cambridge 1993, 83–102. R. Osborne/Jameson (1992) R. Osborne/M. H. Jameson: Agricultural Labor in Ancient Greece, in: B. Wells (ed.): Agriculture in Ancient Greece, Stockholm 1992, 136–146. Osmers (2013) M.  Osmers: „Wir aber sind damals und jetzt immer die gleichen“. Vergangenheitsbezüge in der polisübergreifenden Kommunikation der klassischen Zeit, Historia ES 226, Stuttgart 2013.

328

Bibliography

Ostwald (1955) M. Ostwald: The Athenian Legislation Against Tyranny and Subversion, TAPhA 86 (1955), 103–128. Ostwald (1986) M. Ostwald: From Popular Sovereignty to the Sovereignty of Law. Law, Society and Politics in Fifth Century Athens, Berkeley 1986. O’ Sullivan (2009) L.  O’Sullivan: The Regime of Demetrius of Phalerum in Athens, 317–307 BCE. A Philosopher in Politics, Mnemosyne Suppl. 318, Leiden/Boston 2009. Ottmann (2001) H.  Ottmann: Geschichte des politischen Denkens, vol. 1.2: Die Griechen. Von Platon bis zum Hellenismus, Stuttgart/Weimar 2001. Palagia (1980) O. Palagia: Euphranor, Monumenta Graeca et Romana 3, Leiden 1980. Palagia (1982) O.  Palagia: A Colossal Statue of a Personification from the Agora of Athens, Hesperia 51 (1982), 99–113. Papastamati-von Moock (2007) C. Papastamati-von Moock: Menander und die Tragikergruppe. Neue Forschungen zu den Ehrenmonumenten im Dionysostheater von Athen, MDAI(A) 122 (2007), 273–327. Papastamati-von Moock (2014) C. Papastamati-von Moock: The Theatre of Dionysus Eleuthereus in Athens: New Data and Observations on Its ‘Lycurgan’ Phase, in: E. Csapo/H. R. Goette/Green J. Richard/P. Wilson (eds.): Greek Theatre in the Fourth Century B. C., Berlin 2014, 15–76. Papazarkadas (2011) N. Papazarkadas: Sacred and Public Land in Ancient Athens, Oxford/New York 2011. Papazarkadas (2013) N. Papazarkadas: Apodektai, EAH 2 (2013), 543–544. Papilon (2008) T. L. Papilon: Isocrates, in: I. Worthington (ed.): A Companion to Greek Rhetoric, Malden 2008, 58–74. Paradiso (2000) A. Paradiso: Lycurgue spartiate: analogie, anachronisme et achronie dans la construction historiographique du passé, in: C. Darbo-Peschanski (ed.): Constructions du temps dans le monde grec ancien, Paris 2000, 373–391. Pareti (1909) L.  Pareti: Ricerche sulla potenza marittima degli Spartani e sulla cronologia dei navarchi, MAT 59 (1909), 71–159. Parke (1987) H. Parke: Athenische Feste, Kulturgeschichte der antiken Welt 38, Mainz 1987. Parker (1989) R.  Parker: Spartan Religion, in: A.  Powell (ed.): Classical Sparta, London 1989, 142–172. Parker (1996) R. Parker: Athenian Religion. A History, Oxford/New York 1996. Parker (2005) R. Parker: Polytheism and Society at Athens, Oxford 2005. Parpas (2013) A. P. Parpas: Alexander the Great. The Dissolution of the Persian Naval Supremacy 334–331 B. C., Dubai 2013. Paulsen (1999) T.  Paulsen: Die Parapresbeia-Reden des Demosthenes und des Aischines. Kommentar und Interpretationen zu Demosthenes, or. XIX, und Aischines, or. II, Bochumer Altertumswissenschaftliches Colloquium 40, Trier 1999. Paulsen (2011) T.  Paulsen: Antiphon von Rhamnus, in: B.  Zimmermann (ed.): Handbuch der griechischen Literatur der Antike, vol. 1: Die griechische Literatur der archaischen und klassischen Zeit, München 2011, 436–439. Pazdera (2006) M.  Pazdera: Getreide für Griechenland. Untersuchungen zu den Ursachen der Versorgungskrisen im Zeitalter Alexanders des Großen und der Diadochen, Antike Kulturen und Geschichte 9, Münster 2006. Peake (1991) S. Peake: The Role of the ‘strategoi’ in Athens in the 4th Century B. C., Diss. St. Andrews 1991. Peake (1997) S. Peake: A Note on the Dating of the Social War, G&R 44 (1997), 161–164. Pearson (1966) L. Pearson: Apollodorus, the Eleventh Orator, in: L. Wallach (ed.): The Classical Tradition, Ithaca 1966, 347–359. Pearson (1981) L. Pearson: The Art of Demosthenes, Chico 1981. Pébarthe (2006) C. Pébarthe: La circulation de l’information et l’adoption d’un décret: les décisions économiques et financières à l’époque de Périclès, in: L.  Capdetrey/J.  Nels-Clément (eds.): La circulation de l’information dans les états, Bordeaux, 35–51.

Bibliography

329

Pébarthe (2007) C. Pébarthe: La question de la clientèle en Grèce ancienne: Cimon versus Périclès, patronage privé contre patronage communautaire?, in: V. Lécrivain (ed.), Clientèle guerrière, clientèle foncière et clientèle électorale, Dijon 2007, 173–197. Pébarthe (2016) C. Pébarthe: New Assessment on Trade and Politics in 4th Century B. C. E. Athens, in: C. Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 223–232. Pecirka (1967) J.  Pecirka: A Note on Aristotele’s Conception of Citizenship and the Role of Foreigners in Fourth Century Athens, Eirene 6 (1967), 23–26. Pecirka (1976) J. Pecirka: The Crisis of the Athenian Polis in the Fourth Century B. C., Eirene 14 (1976), 5–29. Pélékidis (1962) C. Pélékidis: Histoire de l’éphébie attique des origines à 31 av. J.-C., Paris 1962. Pendrick (2010) G. J. Pendrick: Antiphon the Sophist, the Fragments, Cambridge Classical Texts and Commentaries 39, Cambridge 2010. Perlmann (1963) S. Perlmann: The Politicians in the Athenian Democracy of the Fourth Century B. C., Athenaeum 41 (1963), 327–355. Perlmann (1967) S. Perlmann: Political Leadership in Athens in the Fourth Century B. C., PP 22 (1967), 161–176. Pettersson (1992) M. Pettersson: Cults of Apollo at Sparta. The Hyakinthia, the Gymnopaidiai, and the Karneia, Skrifter utgivna av Svenska Institutet i Athen 80, Stockholm 1992. Philippi (1874) A.  Philippi: Der Areopag und die Epheten. Eine Untersuchung zur athenischen Verfassungsgeschichte, Berlin 1874. Philippson (1950–1959) A. Philippson: Die griechischen Landschaften, Frankfurt a. M. 1950–1959. Phillips (2013) D. D. Phillips: The Law of Ancient Athens, Law and Society in the Ancient World, Ann Arbor 2013. Pickard-Cambridge (1946) A.  W. Pickard-Cambridge: The Theatre of Dionysus in Athens, Oxford 1946. Pickard-Cambridge (1970) A. W. Pickard-Cambridge: Dithyramb, Tragedy and Comedy, revised by T. B. L. Webster, Oxford 1970. Pickard-Cambridge (1988) A. W. Pickard-Cambridge: The Dramatic Festivals of Athens, revised with a New Supplement by J. Gould and D. M. Lewis, Oxford 1988. Pinto (2012) P. M. Pinto: The Title of Isocrates’ Antidosis, Hermes 140 (2012), 362–368. Piper (1979) L. J. Piper: Wealthy Spartan Women, CB 56 (1979), 5–8. Pippidi (1969) D. M. Pippidi: Luttes politiques et troubles sociaux à Héraclée du Pont à l’époque classique, StudClas 11 (1969), 235–238. Pippin Burnett/Edmonson (1961) A. Pippin Burnett/C. N. Edmonson: The Chabrias Monument in the Athenian Agora, Hesperia 30 (1961), 74–91. Pleket (1971) H. W. Pleket: Review of R. Bogaert: Banques et banquiers dans les cités grecques, Leiden 1968, Mnemosyne 24 (1971), 433–437. Podes (1992) S. Podes: Zur Problematik der Diobelie und Obolos-Zahlungen, GB 18 (1992), 35–45. Podes (1994) S.  Podes: The Introduction of Jury Pay by Pericles. Some Mainly Chronological Considerations, Athenaeum 82 (1994), 95–110. Poiss (2009) T. Poiss: Die unendliche Aufgabe. August Boeckh als Begründer des Philologischen Seminars, in: A.  M. Baertschi/C.  G. King (eds.): Die modernen Väter der Antike: Die Entwicklung der Altertumswissenschaften an Akademie und Universität im Berlin des 19. Jahrhunderts, Berlin 2009, 45–72. Polacco (1990) L.  Polacco: Il teatro di Dioniso Eleutereo ad Atene, Monografie della Scuola Archeologica di Atene e delle Missioni Italiane in Oriente 4, Roma 1990. Polanyi (1957) K.  Polanyi: Aristotle Discovers the Economy, in: K.  Polanyi/ C. M. Arensberg/H. W. Pearson (eds.): Trade and Market in the Early Empires: Economies in History and Theory, Glencoe 1957, 64–94. Polanyi (1979) K. Polanyi: Ökonomie und Gesellschaft. Mit einer Einleitung von S. C. Humphreys, Frankfurt a. M. 1979. Pomeroy (1982) S. B. Pomeroy: Charities for Greek Women, Mnemosyne 35 (1982), 115–135.

330

Bibliography

Pomeroy (1994) S. B. Pomeroy: Xenophon: Oeconomicus. A Social and Historical Commentary, Oxford 1994. Pomptow (1909) H. R. Pomptow: Studien zu den Weihgeschenken und der Topographie 5, Klio 9 (1909), 153–193. Poralla (1966) P.  Poralla: Prosopographie der Lakedaimonier bis auf die Zeit Alexanders des Großen, Studia Historica 24, Breslau 1913 (reprint Roma 1966). Poralla/Bradford (1985) P. Poralla/A. S. Bradford: AProsopography of Lacedaemonians from the Earliest Times to the Death of Alexander the Great, Chicago 1985. Posner (1972) E. Posner: Archives in the Ancient World, Cambridge 1972. Poulakos (1995) J.  Poulakos: Sophistical Rhetoric in Classical Greece, Studies in Rhetoric/ Communication, Columbia 1995. Poulakos (1997) T. Poulakos: Speaking for the polis. Isocrates’ Rhetorical Education, Studies in Rhetoric & Communication, Columbia 1997. Poulakos/Depew (2004) T. Poulakos/D. Depew (eds.): Isocrates and Civic Education, Austin 2004. Powell (1980) A. Powell: Athens’ Difficulty, Sparta’s Opportunity: Causation and the Peloponnesian War, AC 49 (1980), 87–114. Powell (1988) A. Powell: Athens and Sparta. Constructing Greek Political and Social History from 478 B. C., London 1988. Powell (2006) A.  Powell: Why Did Sparta not Destroy Athens in 404, or in 403 BC?, in: S. Hodkinson/A. Powell (eds.): Sparta and War, Swansea 2006, 287–303. Powell (2008) A.  Powell: Warum zerstörte Sparta 404 oder 403 v. Chr. nicht Athen?, in: K. Brodersen (ed.): Vincere scis, victoria uti necis, Berlin 2008, 18–36. Powell (2010) A.  Powell: Divination, Royalty, and Insecurity in Classical Sparta, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta, Swansea 2010, 85–135. Priddat (2004) B. P. Priddat: Historische Methode und moderne Ökonomie. Über das Methodische in der Historischen Schule und das Historische in der Neuen Institutionenökonomie, in: H. Berghoff/J. Vogel (eds.): Wirtschaftsgeschichte als Kulturgeschichte, Frankfurt a. M./New York 2004, 99–116. Priddat (2005) B.  P. Priddat: Strukturierter Individualismus. Institutionen als ökonomische Theorie, Institutionelle und evolutorische Ökonomik 27, Marburg 2005. Priddat (2008) B. P. Priddat: Öffentliche Güter als politische Güter, Zeitschrift für öffentliche und gemeinwirtschaftliche Unternehmen 31 (2008), 152–173. Prignitz (2014) S.  Prignitz: Bauurkunden und Bauprogramm von Epidaurus, Vestigia 67, München 2014. Pritchard (2003) D. M. Pritchard: Athletics, Education and Participation in Classical Athens, in: D.  J. Phillips/D.  Pritchard (eds.): Sport and Festival in the Ancient Greek World, Swansea 2003, 293–349. Pritchard (2005) D. M. Pritchard: War and Democracy in Ancient Athens. A Preliminary Report, Classicum 31 (2005), 16–25. Pritchard (2010) D.  M. Pritchard: The Symbiosis between Democracy and War. The Case of Ancient Athens, in: D. M. Pritchard (ed.): War, Democracy and Culture in Classical Athens, Cambridge 2010, 1–62. Pritchard (2012) D. M. Pritchard: Costing Festivals and War. Spending Priorities of the Athenian Democracy, Historia 61 (2012), 18–65. Pritchard (2014) D. M. Pritchard: The Public Payment of Magistrates in Fourth-Century Athens, GRBS 54 (2014), 1–16. Pritchard (2015a) D.  M. Pritchard: Public Spending and Democracy in Classical Athens, Austin 2015. Pritchard (2015b) D.  M. Pritchard: Public Finance and War in Ancient Greece, G&R 62 (2015), 48–59. Pritchard (2019) D. M. Pritchard: The Democratic Control of Public Spending in Classical Athens, in: S.  Günther/D.  Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019, 229–243.

Bibliography

331

Pritchett (1953) W. K. Pritchett: The Attic Stelai I, Hesperia 22 (1953), 225–299. Pritchett (1956a) W. K. Pritchett: The Attic Stelai II, Hesperia 25 (1956), 178–317. Pritchett (1956b) W. K. Pritchett: Fourth-Century Athenian Sales Taxes, CPh 51 (1956), 100–102. Pritchett (1971–1991) W. K. Pritchett: The Greek State at War, 5 vols., Berkeley 1971–1991. Pritchett (2001) W. K. Pritchett: Athenian Calendars and Ekklesias, Amsterdam 2001. Proietti (1987) G.  Proietti: Xenophon’s Sparta. An Introduction, Mnemosyne Suppl. 98, Leiden 1987. Quass (1991) F. Quass: Der Königsfriede vom Jahr 387/6 v. Chr. Zur Problematik einer allgemein-­ griechischen Friedensordnung, HZ 252 (1991), 33–56. Quass (1993) F.  Quass: Die Honoratiorenschicht in den Städten des griechischen Ostens: Untersuchungen zur politischen und sozialen Entwicklung in hellenistischer und römischer Zeit, Stuttgart 1993. Rackham (1990) O. Rackham: Ancient Landscapes, in: O. Murray/S. Price (eds.): The Greek City, Oxford 1990, 85–111. Rand/Greene/Nowak (2012) D.  G. Rand/J.  D. Greene/M.  A. Nowak: Spontaneous Giving and Calculated Greed, Nature 489 (2012), 427–430. Rathbone/von Reden (2015) D. Rathbone/S. von Reden: Mediterranean Grain Prices in Classical Antiquity, in: R.  J. van der Spek /B. van Leeuwen/J.  L. van Zanden (eds.): A History of Market Performance. From Ancient Babylonia to the Modern World, London/New York 2015, 149–235. Raubitschek (1941) A. E. Raubitschek: Two Notes on Isocrates, TAPhA 72 (1941), 356–364. Raubitschek (1962) A. E. Raubitschek: Demokratia, Hesperia 31 (1962), 238–263. Rawlings (2007) L. Rawlings: The Ancient Greeks at War, Manchester/New York 2007. Rawlings (2013) L. Rawlings: War and Warfare in Ancient Greece, in: B. Campbell/L. A. Tritle (eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Warfare in the Classical World, Oxford 2013, 3–28. Rawson (1969) E. Rawson: The Spartan Tradition in European Thought, Oxford 1969. Rebenich (1998) S. Rebenich: Xenophon: Die Verfassung der Spartaner, hrsg., übers. und erl. von S. Rebenich, Texte zur Forschung 70, Darmstadt 1998. Redfield (1977–1978) J. Redfield: The Women of Sparta, CJ 73 (1977–1978), 146–161. Regenbogen (1940) O. Regenbogen: s. v. Theophrastos von Eresos, RE Suppl. 7 (1940), 1354–1562. Reinmuth (1952) O. W. Reinmuth: The Genesis of the Athenian Ephebia, TAPhA 83 (1952), 34–50. Reinmuth (1971) O. W. Reinmuth: The Ephebic Inscriptions of the Fourth Century, Leiden 1971. Rhodes (1972) P. J. Rhodes: The Athenian Boule, Oxford 1972. Rhodes (1980) P. J. Rhodes: Athenian Democracy after 403 B. C., CJ 75 (1980), 305–323. Rhodes (1982) P. J. Rhodes: Problems in Athenian Eisphora and Liturgies, AJAH 7 (1982), 1–19. Rhodes (1985a) P. J. Rhodes: A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia, Oxford 1985. Rhodes (1985b) P. J. Rhodes: Nomothesia in Fourth Century Athens, CQ 35 (1985), 55–60. Rhodes (1986) P. J. Rhodes: Political Activity in Classical Athens, JHS 106 (1986), 132–144. Rhodes (1991) P. J. Rhodes: The Athenian Code of Law, 410–399 B. C., JHS 111 (1991), 87–100. Rhodes (1996) P. J. Rhodes: s.v. apodektai, DNP 1 (1996), 848–849. Rhodes (2007) P. J. Rhodes: Διοίκησις, Chiron 37 (2007), 349–362. Rhodes (2011) P. J. Rhodes: Appeals to the Past in Classical Athens, in: G. Herman (ed.): Stability and Crisis in the Athenian Democracy, Stuttgart 2011, 13–30. Rhodes (2012) P. J. Rhodes: The Alleged Failure of Athens in the Fourth Century, Electrum 19 (2012), 111–129. Rhodes (2013) P.  J. Rhodes: The Organization of Athenian Public Finance, G&R 60 (2013), 203–231. Rhodes (2016) P.  J. Rhodes: Fourth-Century Appointments in Athens, in: C.  Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 109–119. Rhodes (2017) P.  J. Rhodes: The Athenian Constitution written in the School of Aristotle, Liverpool 2017. Rhodes/Osborne (2007) P.  J. Rhodes/R.  Osborne: Greek Historical Inscriptions. 404–323 BC, Oxford/New York 2007.

332

Bibliography

Rice (1974) D. G. Rice: Agesilaus, Agesipolis, and Spartan Politics, 386–379 B. C., Historia 23 (1974), 164–182. Richardson (2015) M.  Richardson: Polis Inscriptions and Jurors in Fourth-Century Athens, in: K. F. Daly/L. A. Riccardi (eds.): Cities Called Athens, Lewisburg 2015, 351–368. Richer (1998) N. Richer: Les éphores. Études sur l’histoire et sur l’image de Sparte (VIIIe–IIIe siècle avant Jésus-Christ), Histoire ancienne et médiévale 50, Paris 1998. Richer (2001) N. Richer: “Eunomia” et “Eudaimonia” a Sparte, Dike 4 (2001), 13–38. Ridley (1974) R.  T. Ridley: The Economic Activities of the Perioikoi, Mnemosyne 27 (1974), 281–292. Riemann (1956) H. Riemann: s. v. Lysikratesmonument, RE Suppl. 8 (1956), 266–347. Riezler (1907) K. Riezler: Über Finanzen und Monopole im alten Griechenland. Zur Theorie und Geschichte der antiken Stadtwirtschaft, Berlin 1907 (reprint New York 1979). Rigsby (2016) K. J. Rigsby: A Litigant in Athens. Demosthenes 56, CQ 66 (2016), 398–399. Rihll (1987) T. E. Rihll: The Attic naukrariai, LCM 12 (1987), 10. Rihll (2001) T. E. Rihll: Making Money in Classical Athens, in: J. Salmon/D. J. Mattingly (eds.): Economies Beyond Agriculture in the Classical World, London et al. 2001, 115–142. Rihll (2010) T. E. Rihll: Skilled Slaves and the Economy. The Silver Mines of the Laurion, in: H. Heinen/A. Binsfeld (eds.): Antike Sklaverei, Stuttgart 2010, 203–220. Ritchie (1984) C. E. Ritchie: The Athenian Boundary Stones of Public Domain, Diss. University of Colorado 1994. Robbins (1918) F. E. Robbins: The Cost to Athens of Her Second Empire, CPh 13 (1918), 361–388. Robert (1924) L. Robert: Epigraphica. Décret de Géronthrai, REG 37 (1924), 180–181. Robert (1969) L. Robert: Théophane de Mytilène à Constantinople, CRAI 113 (1969), 42–64. G. Roberts (1998) G. Roberts: Competitive Altruism. From Reciprocity to the Handicap Principle, Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences 265 (1998), 427–431. J.  E. T.  Roberts (1976) J.  E. T.  Roberts: The Impeachment of Generals at Athens During the Classical Period. A Study in Political Accountability, Ann Arbor 1976. Robertson (1927) D. S. Robertson: The Duration of a Trierarchy, CR 41 (1927), 114–116. Robinson (1974) R. S. Robinson: The Size of the Slave Population at Athens During the Fifth and Fourth Centuries Before Christ, Westport 1974. Roesch (1984) P.  Roesch: L’Amphiaraion d’Oropos, in: G.  Roux (ed.): Temples et sanctuaires. Séminaire de recherche 1981–1983, Lyon/Paris 1984, 173–184. Rohde (2012) D. Rohde: Bürgerpflicht und Gleichheitsideal. „Besteuerung“ und ihre diskursiven Grundlagen in Sparta und Athen, in: S. Günther (ed.): Ordnungsrahmen antiker Ökonomien. Ordnungskonzepte und Steuerungsmechanismen antiker Wirtschaftssysteme im Vergleich, Wiesbaden 2012, 23–40. Rohde (2015) D.  Rohde: Die Finanzierung öffentlicher Aufgaben als Ausdruck politischer Mentalitäten im Athen des 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., HNB 2 (2015), 59–77. Rohde (2017) D.  Rohde: „Weder haben wir in der Staatskasse Geld noch zahlen wir gerne aus unserer eigenen Tasche“. Die öffentlichen Finanzen Spartas in klassischer Zeit, in: V.  Pothou/A.  Powell (eds.): Das antike Sparta. Proceedings of the International Conference Regensburg, 24.–26. September 2009, Stuttgart 2017, 247–272. Rohde (2019a) D. Rohde: “For everything to remain the same, everything must change!” Private Wealth and Public Revenues, in: S. Günther/D. Rohde (eds.): 200 Years after August Boeckh’s „The Public Economy of the Athenians“. Perspectives of Economic History for the 21st Century. Proceedings of an International Workshop held at the ZiF in Bielefeld 2017, JAC 34, Changhun 2019, 245–271. Rohde (2019b) D.  Rohde: Die Versteigerung konfiszierter Güter im klassischen Athen, in: Chr. Schäfer/P.  Reinard (eds.): Gebrauchtwaren und Second Hand-Markt in der Antike, Internationale Tagung September 2016, Scripta Mercaturae Beihefte 1, Gutenberg 2019, 13–24. Rohde (2019c) D.  Rohde: „Verrat ist eine Frage des Datums“: Der parapresbeia -Prozess des Jahres 343, in: J.  Hoffmann-Salz/K.-J.  Hölkeskamp/K.  Kostopoulos/S.  Lentzsch (eds.): Die Grenzen des Prinzips, Stuttgart 2019, 95–106.

Bibliography

333

Romano (1985) D.  G. Romano: The Panathenaic Stadium and Theater of Lykourgos: A Re-Examination of the Facilities on the Pnyx Hill, AJA 89 (1985), 441–454. Romano (1996) D. G. Romano: Lykourgos, the Panathenaia and the Great Altar of Athena: Further Thoughts Concerning the Pnyx Hill, in: B. Forsén/G. R. Stanton (eds.): The Pnyx in the History of Athens, Helsinki 1996, 71–85. Roscalla (1990) F.  Roscalla: Influssi antistenici nell’Economico di Senofonte, Prometheus 16 (1990), 207–216. Roscalla (2004) F.  Roscalla: Kalokagathia e kaloikagathoi in Senofonte, in: C.  Tuplin (ed.): Xenophon and His World, Stuttgart 2004, 115–124. Rose (2006) P.  Rose: Divorcing Ideology from Marxism and Marxism from Ideology: Some Problems, Arethusa 39 (2006), 101–136. Rose (2009) P. Rose: Class, in: K. Raaflaub/H. von Wees (eds.): A Companion to Archaic Greece, Malden 2009, 468–482. Rose (2012) P. Rose: Class in Archaic Greece, Cambridge et al. 2012. Roselli (2009) D. K. Roselli: Theorika in Fifth-Century Athens, GRBS 49 (2009), 5–30. Rosivach (1992) V. J. Rosivach: The Rationes Centesimarum, Eirene 28 (1992), 49–61. Rosivach (1994) V.  J. Rosivach: The System of Public Sacrifice in Fourth-Century Athens, Atlanta 1994. Rosivach (2000) V. J. Rosivach: Some Economic Aspects of the Fourth-Century Athenian Market in Grain, Chiron 30 (2000), 31–64. Rosivach (2002) V. J. Rosivach: The Requirements for the Solonic Classes in Aristotle, AP 7.4, Hermes 130 (2002), 36–47. Rosivach (2005) V. J. Rosivach: Notes on the pentakosiomedimnos’ Five Hundred medimnoi, CQ 55 (2005), 597–601. Rosivach (2011) V. J. Rosivach: State Pay as War Relief in Peloponnesian-War Athens, G&R 58 (2011), 176–183. Rostovtzeff (1926) M. I. Rostovtzeff: The Social and Economic History of the Roman Empire, Oxford 1926. Rostovtzeff (1941) M. I. Rostovtzeff: The Social and Economic History of the Hellenistic World, Oxford 1941. Roth (2003) P. Roth: Der Panathenaikos des Isokrates. Übersetzung und Kommentar, Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 196, München 2003. Rotroff (1978) S.  I. Rotroff: An Anonymous Hero in the Athenian Agora, Hesperia 47 (1978), 196–209. Rotroff (1996) S. I. Rotroff: Pnyx III: Pottery and Stratigraphy, in: B. Forsén/G. R. Stanton (eds.): The Pnyx in the History of Athens, Helsinki 1996, 35–40. Rotroff/Camp (1996) S. I. Rotroff/J. M. Camp: The Date of the Third Period of the Pnyx, Hesperia 65 (1996), 263–294. Rousset (2013) D.  Rousset: Sacred Property and Public Property in the Greek City, JHS 133 (2013), 113–133. Roy (1997) J. Roy: The Perioikoi of Elis, in: M. H. Hansen (ed.): The Polis as an Urban Centre and as a Political Community, Copenhagen 1997, 282–320. Rubinstein (2005) L. Rubinstein: Differentiated Rhetorical Strategies in the Athenian Courts, in: M. Gagarin/D. Cohen (eds.): The Cambridge Companion to Ancient Greek Law, Cambridge 2005, 129–145. Rubinstein (2009) L. Rubinstein: Ateleia Grants and their Enforcement in the Classical and Early Hellenistic Periods, in: L. Mitchell/L. Rubinstein (eds.): Greek History and Epigraphy. Essays in Honour of P. J. Rhodes, Swansea 2009, 115–143. Rudhardt (1992) J. Rudhardt: Notions fondamentales de la pensée religieuse et actes constitutifs du culte dans la Grèce classique, Antiquité 3, Paris 1992. Ruffing (2012) K. Ruffing: Wirtschaft in der griechisch-römischen Antike, Geschichte kompakt, Darmstadt 2012. Ruffing (2015) K.  Ruffing: Von der primitivistischen Orthodoxie zum römischen Basar. Die Wirtschaft des Römischen Reiches in der Forschung des ausgehenden 20. und des beginnen-

334

Bibliography

den 21. Jahrhunderts, in: R. Lafer/K. Strobel (eds.): Antike Lebenswelten. Althistorische und papyrologische Studien, Berlin/Boston 2015, 3–27. Ruschenbusch (1978) E. Ruschenbusch: Die athenischen Symmorien des 4. Jh. v. Chr., ZPE 31 (1978), 275–284. Ruschenbusch (1979a) E. Ruschenbusch: Die Einführung des Theorikon, ZPE 36 (1979), 303–308. Ruschenbusch (1979b) E.  Ruschenbusch: Die soziale Herkunft der Epheben um 330, ZPE 35 (1979), 173–176. Ruschenbusch (1979c) E. Ruschenbusch: Zur Besatzung athenischer Trieren, Historia 28 (1979), 106–110. Ruschenbusch (1985a) E. Ruschenbusch: Ein Beitrag zur Leiturgie und zur Eisphora. Die Höhe des Vermögens, das die Pflicht zur Leistung einer Leiturgie und zur Zahlung der Eisphora begründet, ZPE 59 (1985), 237–240. Ruschenbusch (1985b) E.  Ruschenbusch: Die trierarchischen Syntelien und das Vermögen der Synteliemitglieder, ZPE 59 (1985), 240–249. Ruschenbusch (1985c) E. Ruschenbusch: Die Sozialstruktur der Bürgerschaft Athens im 4. Jh. v. Chr., ZPE 59 (1985), 249–251. Ruschenbusch (1985d) E.  Ruschenbusch: Wechsel und Veränderungen im Kreis der 300 Leiturgiepflichtigen und unsere Kenntnis der Oberschicht Athens in den Jahren 376 bis 322 v. Chr., ZPE 59 (1985), 251–252. Ruschenbusch (1985e) E. Ruschenbusch: Die Zahl der griechischen Staaten und die Arealgröße und Bürgerzahl der „Normalpolis“, ZPE 59 (1985), 253–263. Ruschenbusch (1987a) E. Ruschenbusch: Der Endtermin in der Leiturgie des Trierarchen, ZPE 67 (1987), 155–157. Ruschenbusch (1987b) E.  Ruschenbusch: Demosthenes’ erste freiwillige Trierarchie und die Datierung des Euböaunternehmens vom Jahre 357, ZPE 67 (1987), 158–159. Ruschenbusch (1987c) E.  Ruschenbusch: Das Datum von IG II/III2 1611 und der Bundesgenossenkrieg, ZPE 67 (1987), 160–163. Ruschenbusch (1987d) E. Ruschenbusch: Das Datum von IG II/III2 1612, ZPE 67 (1987), 164. Ruschenbusch (1987e) E. Ruschenbusch: Symmorienprobleme, ZPE 69 (1987), 75–81. Ruschenbusch (1990) E. Ruschenbusch: Die Zahl der athenischen Trierarchen in der Zeit nach 340 v. Chr., C&M 41 (1990), 79–88. Ruschenbusch (1998) E.  Ruschenbusch: Mißernten bei Getreide in den Jahren 1921–1938  in Griechenland als Modell für die Antike, in: E. Olshausen/H. Sonnabend (eds.): Naturkatastrophen in der antiken Welt, Stuttgart 1998, 78–81. Rutherford (2013) I. Rutherford: State Pilgrims and Sacred Observers in Ancient Greece. A Study of Theōriā and Theōroi, Cambridge 2013. Rutishauser (2012) B. Rutishauser: Athens and the Cyclades. Economic Strategies 540–314 BC, Oxford 2012. Ruzicka (1998) S. Ruzicka: Epaminondas and the Genesis of the Social War, CPh 93 (1998), 60–69. Ryder (2000) T. T. T. Ryder: Demosthenes and Philipp II, in: I. Worthington (ed.): Demosthenes. Statesman and Orator, London 2000, 45–89. Sallares (1991) R. Sallares: The Ecology of the Ancient Greek World, London 1991. Sallares (2007) R. Sallares: Ecology, in: I. Morris/R. Saller/W. Scheidel (eds.): The Cambridge Economic History of The Greco-Roman World, Cambridge 2007, 15–37. Saller (2002) R.  Saller: Framing the Debate over Growth in the Ancient Economy, in: W. Scheidel/S. von Reden (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Edinburgh 2002, 251–269. Salomon (1997) N. Salomon: Le cleruchie di Atene, Pisa 1997. Salomone (1976) S. Salomone: L’impegno etico e la morale di Licurgo, A&R 21 (1976), 41–52. Samons (2000) L. J. Samons: Empire of the Owl. Athenian Imperial Finance, Historia ES 142, Stuttgart 2000. Samotta (2010) I. Samotta: Demosthenes, Tübingen/Basel 2010. Sancho Rocher (2008) L. Sancho Rocher: Democracia frente a populismo en Isócrates, Klio 90 (2008), 36–61.

Bibliography

335

Sancho Rocher (2012) L. Sancho Rocher: Democracia e imperialismo maritimo. Atenas, siglos V–IV a. C., Madrid 2012. Savalli-Lestrade (2003) I. Savalli-Lestrade: Remarques sur les élites dans les poleis hellénistiques, in: M. Gervasoni-Cébeillac/L. Lemoine (eds.): Les élites et leurs facettes. Les élites locales dans le monde hellénistique et romain, Actes du Colloque international Clermont-Ferrand, Roma/Clermont-Ferrand, 51–64. Scardino (2007) C. Scardino: Gestaltung und Funktion der Reden bei Herodot und Thukydides, Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 250, Berlin/NewYork 2007. Schäfer (1885–1887) A.  Schäfer: Demosthenes und seine Zeit, Leipzig 1885–1887 (reprint Hildesheim 1966). Schanz (1999) G. Schanz: Exklusivrechte auf die ökonomische Perspektive? Konfrontation neoinstitutionalistischer Anmaßungen mit verhaltenstheoretischen Argumenten, in: T.  Edeling (eds.): Institutionenökonomie und Neuer Institutionalismus, Opladen 1999, 147–164. Schapps (1991) D. Schapps: When is a Piglet not a Piglet?, JHS 111 (1991), 208–209. Scheer (2012) T.  S. Scheer: Land als Ressource im archaischen und klassischen Griechenland, GWU 63 (2012), 517–535. Schefold (2004) B. Schefold: Xenophons Oikonomikos: Der Anfang welcher Wirtschaftslehre?, in: V. Caspari/B. Schefold (eds.): Beiträge zur ökonomischen Dogmengeschichte, Darmstadt 2004, 1–20. Schefold (2011) B.  Schefold: The Applicability of Modern Economics to Forms of Capitalism in Antiquity. Some Theoretical Considerations and Textual Evidence, Journal of Economic Asymmetries 8 (2011), 131–163. Scheidel (2007) W.  Scheidel: Demography, in: I.  Morris/R.  Saller/W.  Scheidel (eds.): The Cambridge Economic History of The Greco-Roman World, Cambridge 2007, 38–86. Scheidel (2010) W.  Scheidel: Real Wages in Early Economies: Evidence for Living Standards from 1800 BCEto 1300 CE, Journal of the Social and Economic History of the Orient 53 (2010), 425–462. Scheidel (2017) W. Scheidel: The Great Leveler. Violence and the History of Inequality. From the Stone Age to the Twenty-First Century, Princeton/Oxford 2017. Scheidel/von Reden (2002) W.  Scheidel/S. von Reden (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Edinburgh 2002. Scherf (2011) W.  Scherf: Öffentliche Finanzen. Einführung in die Finanzwissenschaft, Konstanz 2011. Schmidt (1980) K. Schmidt: Grundprobleme der Besteuerung, in: F. Neumark (ed.): Handbuch der Finanzwissenschaft, Tübingen 1980, 120–171. Schmidt-Hofner (2014) S.  Schmidt-Hofner: Politik räumlich denken: Herodots drei Parteien in Attika und das politische Imaginaire der Griechen, HZ 299 (2014), 624–668. Schmidt-Hofner (2016) S.  Schmidt-Hofner: Das Klassische Griechenland. Der Krieg und die Freiheit, München 2016. J.-M. Schmitt (1974) J.-M. Schmitt: Les premières tétrères à Athènes, REG 87 (1974), 80–90. O. Schmitt (1992) O. Schmitt: Der Lamische Krieg, Bonn 1992. Schmitt Pantel (1990) P. Schmitt-Pantel: Collective Activities and the Political in the Greek City, in: O. Murray/S. Price (eds.): The Greek City, Oxford 1990, 199–213. Schmitt Pantel (1992) P. Schmitt-Pantel: La cité au banquet. Histoire des repas publics des cités grecques, CEFR 157, Roma 1992. Schmitz (1988) W. Schmitz: Wirtschaftliche Prosperität, soziale Integration und die Seebundpolitik Athens. Die Wirkung der Erfahrungen aus dem Ersten Attischen Seebund auf die athenische Außenpolitik in der ersten Hälfe des 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., München 1985. Schmitz (1995a) W. Schmitz: Die 21. Rede des Lysias und ihre Aktualität, AU 38 (1995), 72–96. Schmitz (1995b) W. Schmitz: Reiche und Gleiche. Timokratische Gliederung und Demokratische Gleichheit der athenischen Bürger im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 573–597. Schmitz (1997) W. Schmitz: s. v. eisphora, DNP 3 (1997), 930–931.

336

Bibliography

Schmitz (2008) W.  Schmitz: Verpasste Chancen. Adel und Aristokratie im archaischen und klassischen Griechenland, in: H.  Beck/P.  Scholz/U.  Walter (eds.): Die Macht der Wenigen. Aristokratische Herrschaftspraxis, Kommunikation und ‚edler‘ Lebensstil in Antike und Früher Neuzeit, HZ Beiheft 47, München 2008, 35–70. Schmitz (2013) W. Schmitz: s. v. eisphora, EAH 5 (2013), 2344–2345. Schmitz (2014) W. Schmitz: Griechische Sozialgeschichte, Heidelberg 2014. Schmitz (2017) W. Schmitz: Die Gründung der Stadt Tarent und die Gesetze des Lykurg. Eine neue Sicht auf Spartas Geschichte in archaischer Zeit, Klio 99 (2017), 420–463. B.  Schneider (1985) B.  Schneider: August Boeckh. Altertumsforscher, Universitätslehrer und Wissenschaftsorganisator in Berlin des 19. Jahrhunderts. Ausstellung zum 200. Geburtstag, Berlin 1985. H. Schneider (1989) H. Schneider: August Boeckh, in: M. Erbe (ed.): Berlinische Lebensbilder, Berlin 1989, 37–54. H. Schneider (1990) H. Schneider: Die Bücher-Meyer-Kontroverse, in: W. M. Calder/A. Demandt (eds.): Eduard Meyer, Leiden 1990, 417–445. Schnurr (1995) C. Schnurr: Zur Topographie der Theaterstätten und der Tripodenstrasse in Athen, ZPE 105 (1995), 139–153. Schofield (1993) M. Schofield: Plato on the Economy, in: M. H. Hansen (ed.): The Ancient Greek City-State, Copenhagen 1993, 183–196. Scholz (2000) P. Scholz: Der Prozeß gegen Sokrates. Ein ‚Sündenfall‘ der athenischen Demokratie?, in: L. Burckhardt/L. A. Burckhardt/J. von Ungern-Sternberg (eds.): Große Prozesse im antiken Athen, München 2000, 157–173. Scholz (2008) P.  Scholz: Die ‚Macht der Wenigen‘ in den hellenistischen Städten, in: H. Beck/P. Scholz/U. Walter (eds.): Die Macht der Wenigen. Aristokratische Herrschaftspraxis, Kommunikation und ‚edler‘ Lebensstil in Antike und Früher Neuzeit, HZ Beiheft 47, München 2008, 71–99. Scholz (2009) P.  Scholz: Der ‘gute’ Bürger in Lykurgs Rede gegen Leokrates, in: C.  Mann/M.  Haake/R. von den Hoff (eds.): Rollenbilder in der athenischen Demokratie, Wiesbaden 2009, 171–192. Schömann (1855) G. F. Schömann: Griechische Alterthümer, 2 vols., Berlin 1855. Schömann (1897–1902) G. F. Schömann: Griechische Alterthümer, 4. Auflage neu bearbeitet von J. H. Lipsius, 2 vols., Berlin 1855. Schönert-Geiss (1971) E.  Schönert-Geiss: Die Wirtschafts- und Handelsbeziehungen zwischen Griechenland und der nördlichen Schwarzmeerküste im Spiegel der Münzfunde (6.–1. Jahrh. v.u.Z.), Klio 53 (1971), 105–117. Schönert-Geiss (1974) E. Schönert-Geiss: Die Geldzirkulation Attikas im 4. Jahrhundert v.u.Z., in: E. C. Welskopf (ed.): Hellenische Poleis, Darmstadt 1974, 531–550. Schorn (2006) S.  Schorn: Zur Authentizität und Datierung von Xenophons Poroi, WJA 30 (2006), 25–40. Schorn (2011) S. Schorn: Xenophons Poroi als philosophische Schrift, Historia 60 (2011), 65–93. Schorn (2012) S.  Schorn: The Philosophical Background of Xenophon’s Poroi, in: C. Tuplin/F. Hobden (eds.): Xenophon, Leiden/Boston 2012, 689–724. Schubert (2000) C.  Schubert: Der Areopag. Ein Gerichtshof zwischen Politik und Recht, in: L.  Burckhardt/L.  A. Burckhardt/J. von Ungern-Sternberg (eds.): Große Prozesse im antiken Athen, München 2000, 50–65. Schubert (2003) C. Schubert: Athen und Sparta in klassischer Zeit. Ein Studienbuch, Stuttgart 2003. Schubert (2008) C. Schubert: Die Naukrarien. Zur Entwicklung der attischen Finanzadministration, Historia 57 (2008), 38–64. Schuler (2005) C. Schuler: Die διοίκησις τῆς πόλεως im öffentlichen Finanzwesen der hellenistischen Poleis, Chiron 35 (2005), 385–403. Schulz (1999) R.  Schulz: Militärische Revolution und politischer Wandel. Das Schicksal Griechenlands im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., HZ 268 (1999), 281–310. Schulz (2010) R. Schulz: Kleine Geschichte des antiken Griechenland, Stuttgart 2010.

Bibliography

337

Schulz (2011) R. Schulz: Thukydides und das Meer, in: E. Baltrusch/C. Wendt/Baltrusch-Wendt (eds.): Ein Besitz für immer?, Baden-Baden 2011, 63–85. Schulz (2013) R. Schulz: Feldherren, Krieger und Strategen. Krieg in der Antike von Achill bis Attila, Stuttgart 2013. Schumpeter (1918) J.  A. Schumpeter: Die Krise des Steuerstaates (1918), reprint in: J. A. Schumpeter: Aufsätze zur Soziologie, Tübingen 1953, 1–71. Schuster (2005) S. Schuster: Das Seedarlehen in den Gerichtsreden des Demosthenes. Mit einem Ausblick auf die weitere historische Entwicklung des Rechtsinstitutes: dáneion nautikón, fenus nauticum und Bodmerei, Freiburger rechtsgeschichtliche Abhandlungen 49, Berlin 2005. Schütrumpf (1987) E. Schütrumpf: Xenophon Poroi. Vorschläge zur Beschaffung von Geldmitteln oder Über die Staatseinkünfte, Einleitung, krit. Textausgabe, Übersetzung und Anmerkungen, Texte zur Forschung 38, Darmstadt 1987. Schütrumpf (1991–2005) E.  Schütrumpf: Aristoteles: Politik, übersetzt und erläutert, 4 vols., Berlin 1991–2005. Schütrumpf (1995) E.  Schütrumpf: Politische Reformmodelle im vierten Jahrhundert. Grundsätzliche Annahmen politischer Theorie und Versuche konkreter Lösungen, in: W. Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 271–300. Schwahn (1930) W. Schwahn: Gehalts- und Lohnzahlung in Athen, RhM 79 (1930), 170–177. Schwahn (1931) W. Schwahn: Die Xenophontischen Póroi und die athenische Industrie im vierten Jahrhundert, RhM 80 (1931), 253–278. Schweigert (1939) E.  Schweigert: Fragments of the Naval Record of 357/6 B.  C., Hesperia 8 (1939), 17–25. Schwenk (1985) C. Schwenk: Athens in the Age of Alexander. The Dated Laws & Decrees of the ‘Lycourgan Era’ 338–322 BC, Chicago 1985. Scott (2010) A.  Scott: Laconian Black-figure Pottery and Spartan Elite Consumption, in: A. Powell/S. Hodkinson (eds.): Sparta, Swansea 2010, 165–181. Seager (1966) R. Seager: Lysias against the Corn-Dealers, Historia 15 (1966), 172–184. Seager (1994) R. Seager: The King’s Peace and the Second Athenian Confederacy, in: D. M. Lewis/ J.  Boardman/S.  Hornblower/M.  Ostwald (eds.): The Fourth Century B.  C., Cambridge 1994, 156–186. Sealey (1956) R.  Sealey: Callistratos of Aphidna and His Contemporaries, Historia 5 (1956), 178–203. Sealey (1976) R. Sealey: Die spartanische Nauarchie, Klio 58 (1976), 335–358. Sealey (1993) R. Sealey: Demosthenes and His Time, New York 1993. Sebillotte Cuchet (2011) V. Sebillotte Cuchet: Sexes, genre et „idéologie civique“: les dessus et les dessous du Contre Léocrate, in: V. Azoulay/P. Ismard (eds.): Clisthène et Lycurgue d’Athènes, Paris 2011, 255–274. Seiler (1986) F. Seiler: Die griechische Tholos. Untersuchungen zur Entwicklung, Typologie und Funktion kunstmässiger Rundbauten, Mainz 1986. Sekunda (2010) N. V. Sekunda: The Macedonian Army, in: J. Roisman/I. Worthington (eds.): A Companion to Ancient Macedonia, Malden 2010, 446–471. Sekunda (2013) N. V. Sekunda: War and Society in Greece, in: B. Campbell/L. A. Tritle (eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Warfare in the Classical World, Oxford 2013, 199–215. Sekunda/Hook (1998) N. V. Sekunda/R. Hook: The Spartan Army, Elite 66, Oxford 1998. Sen (1977) A.  Sen: Rational Fools. A Critique of the Behavioural Foundations of Economic Theory, Philosophy and Public Affairs 6 (1977), 317–344. Serrati (2007) J. Serrati: Warfare and the State, in: P. Sabin/H. van Wees/M. Whitby (eds.): The Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Warfare, vol. 1: Greece, the Hellenistic World, and the Rise of Rome, Cambridge 2007, 461–497. J. L. Shear (1995) J. L. Shear: Fragments of Naval Inventories From the Athenian Agora, Hesperia 64 (1995), 179–224. J. L. Shear (2001) J. L. Shear: Polis and Panathenaia: The History and Development of Athena’s Festival, Ann Arbor 2001.

338

Bibliography

J. L. Shear (2003) J. L. Shear: Prizes from Athenes: The List of Panathenai Prizes and the Sacred Oil, ZPE 142 (2003), 87–105. J. L. Shear (2011) J. L. Shear: Polis and Revolution. Responding to Oligarchy in Classical Athens, Cambridge 2011. J. L. Shear (2012) J. L. Shear: The Politics of the Past. Remembering Revolution at Athens, in: J. Marincola/L. Llewellyn-Jones/C. A. Maciver (eds.): Greek Notions of the Past in the Archaic and Classical Eras, Edinburgh 2012, 276–300. T. L. Shear (1970) T. L. Shear: The Monument of the Eponymous Heroes in the Athenian Agora, Hesperia 39 (1970), 145–222. Shipley (1992) G. Shipley: Perioikos. The Discovery of Classical Lakonia, in: J. M. Sanders (ed.): Philolakon: Lakonian Studies in Honour of Hector Catling, London 1992, 211–226. Shipley (1996a) G.  Shipley: Archaeological Sites in Laconia and the Thyreatis, in: W. Cavanagh/J. Crouwel/R. W. V. Catling/G. Shipley (eds.): Continuity and Change in a Greek Rural Landscape, London/Athens 1996, 263–313. Shipley (1996b) G.  Shipley: Site Catalogue of the Survey, in: W.  Cavanagh/J.  Crouwel/ R.  W. V.  Catling/G.  Shipley (eds.): Continuity and Change in a Greek Rural Landscape, London/Athens 1996, 315–438. Shipley (1996c) G. Shipley: The Epigraphic Material, in: W. Cavanagh/J. Crouwel/R. W. V. Catling/ G.  Shipley (eds.): Continuity and Change in a Greek Rural Landscape, London/Athens 1996, 213–234. Shipley (1997) G.  Shipley: ‘The Other Lakedaimonians’. The Dependent Perioikic Poleis of Laconia and Messenia, in: M. H. Hansen (ed.): The Polis as an Urban Centre and as a Political Community, Copenhagen 1997, 189–281. Shipley (2000) G. Shipley: The Extent of Spartan Territory in the Late Classical and Hellenistic Periods, ABSA 95 (2000), 367–390. Shipley (2002) G.  Shipley: Perioecic Society, in: M.  Whitby (ed.): Sparta, Edinburgh 2002, 182–189. Shipley (2006) G.  Shipley: Sparta and Its Perioikic Neighbours. A Century of Reassessment, Hermathena 181 (2006), 1–22. Shipton (1998) K. Shipton: The Prices of the Athenian Silver Mines, ZPE 120 (1998), 57–63. Shipton (2000) K.  Shipton: Leasing and Lending. The Cash Economy in Fourth-Century BC Athens, BICS Supp 74, London 2000. Shipton (2016) K. Shipton: The Silver Mines of 4th C Democratic Athens. An Economic Nexus, in: C. Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 253–260. Sickinger (1999) J. P. Sickinger: Public Records and Archives in Classical Athens, Studies in the History of Greece and Rome, Chapel Hill 1999. Silver (2003) M. Silver: Review of W. Scheidel/S. Sitta von Reden (eds.): The Ancient Economy, Edinburgh 2002, EH.net 2003 (http://eh.net/book_reviews/the-ancient-economy/) Silverman (1994) D. L. Silverman: The Trierarchy and Athenian Civic Identity, Diss. University of California at Berkeley 1994. Sinclair (1978) R. K. Sinclair: The King’s Peace and the Employment of Military and Naval Forces 387–378, Chiron 8 (1978), 29–54. Sinclair (1988) R. K. Sinclair: Democracy and Participation in Athens, Cambridge 1988. Singer (1958) K.  Singer: Oikonomia. An Inquiry into Beginnings of Economic Thought and Language, Kyklos 11 (1958), 29–57. Skard (1932) E. Skard: Zwei religiös-politische Begriffe. Euergetes – Concordia, Oslo 1932. N.  W. Slater (1993) N.  W. Slater: Theozotides on Adopted Sons (Lysias fr. 6), Scholia 2 (1993), 81–85. W. Slater (2010) W. Slater: Paying the Pipers, in: B. Le Guen (ed.): L’argent dans les concours du monde grec, Saint-Denis 2010, 249–281. Smarczyk (1990) B. Smarczyk: Untersuchungen zur Religionspolitik und politischen Propaganda Athens im Delisch-Attischen Seebund, Quellen und Forschungen zur Antiken Welt 5, München 1990.

Bibliography

339

Smarczyk (1999) B.  Smarczyk: Einige Bemerkungen zur Datierung der Beiträge zu Spartas Kriegskasse in IG V 1,1, Klio 81 (1999), 45–67. Smith/Bliege Bird (2000) E. A. Smith/R. L. Bliege Bird: Turtle Hunting and Tombstone Opening. Public Generosity as Costly Signaling, Evolution and Human Behavior 21 (2000), 245–261. Solari (1907) A. Solari: Ricerche spartane, Livorno 1907. M. Sommer (2013) M. Sommer: Wirtschaftsgeschichte der Antike, München 2013. S. Sommer (2001) S. Sommer: Das Ephorat. Garant des spartanischen Kosmos, Mainzer althistorische Studien 2, St. Katharinen 2001. Sommerstein (2013) A.  H. Sommerstein: The Judicial Sphere, in: A. H. Sommerstein/A. J. Bayliss/L. A. Kozak (eds.): Oath and State in Ancient Greece, Berlin 2013, 57–119. Sorg (2015) T. Sorg: Agyrrhios Beyond Attica: Tax-Farming and Imperial Recovery in the Second Athenian League, Historia 64 (2015), 49–76. Sourvinou-Inwood (1988) C. Sourvinou-Inwood: Further Aspects of Polis Religion, AION(Arch) 10 (1988), 259–274. Sourvinou-Inwood (1990) C. Sourvinou-Inwood: What Is Polis Religion?, in: W. Murray/S. Price (eds.): The Greek City from Homer to Alexander, Oxford 1990, 295–322. Sourvinou-Inwood (2011) C.  Sourvinou-Inwood: Athenian Myths and Festivals. Aglauros, Erechtheus, Plynteria, Panathenaia, Dionysia, Oxford 2011. Spahn (1984) P. Spahn: Die Anfänge der antiken Ökonomik, Chiron 14 (1984), 301–323. Spence (1993) I. G. Spence: The Cavalry of Classical Greece. ASocial and Military History with Particular Reference to Athens, Oxford/New York 1993. Spielvogel (2001) J.  Spielvogel: Wirtschaft und Geld bei Aristophanes. Untersuchungen zu den ökonomischen Bedingungen in Athen im Übergang vom 5. zum 4. Jahrhundert. v. Chr., Frankfurt a. M. 2001. Spina (1980/81) L. Spina: Poesia e retorica contro Leocrate, AFLN 23 (1980/81), 17–41. Spineto (2005) N. Spineto: Dionysos a teatro. Il contesto festivo del dramma greco, Roma 2005. Stangl (2008) G. Stangl: Antike Populationen in Zahlen. Überprüfungsmöglichkeiten von demographischen Zahlenangaben in antiken Texten, Grazer altertumskundliche Studien 11, Frankfurt a. M. et al. 2008. Stanley (1976) P. V. Stanley: Ancient Greek Markets. Regulations and Controls, Diss. University of California 1976. Stanley (1993) P. V. Stanley: Release from Liturgical Service in Athens, Laverna 4 (1993), 26–44. Stanton (1996) G. R. Stanton: The Shape and Size of the Athenian Assembly Place in Its Second Phase, in: B.  Forsén/G.  R. Stanton (eds.): The Pnyx in the History of Athens, Helsinki 1996, 7–21. Stanton/Bicknell (1987) G.  R. Stanton/P.  J. Bicknell: Voting in Tribal Groups in the Athenian Assembly, GRBS 28 (1987), 51–92. Starr (1989) C. G. Starr: The Influence of Sea Power on Ancient History, New York/Oxford 1989. Steffelbauer (2008) I.  Steffelbauer: Zeugiten, Hopliten, Politen. Bauern, Krieger, Bürger, in: M. Cerman (ed.): Agrarrevolutionen, Innsbruck/Wien/Bozen 2008, 60–76. Steinhauer (2009) G.  Steinhauer: The Commercial Harbour of Ancient Piraeus, in: V. Vassilopoulou/S. Katsarou-Tzeveleki (eds.): From Mesogeia to Argosaronikos, Markopoulo 2009, 481–488. Stenger (2005) J. Stenger: Die Liturgien des Andokides (And. 1,132), Hermes 133 (2005), 63–76. Stephanus (1854) H. Stephanus: s.v. τέλος, Thesaurus Graecae linguae 8 (1954), 1992–2000. Stibbe (1996) C. M. Stibbe: Das andere Sparta, Kulturgeschichte der antiken Welt 65, Mainz 1996. Stockton (1990) D. Stockton: The Classical Athenian Democracy, Oxford 1990. Stoll (2010) O. Stoll: Zum Ruhme Athens: Wissen zum Wohl der Polis. Xenophons Ideal einer Führungspersönlichkeit und Athens Reiterei im Hipparchikos ‚Logos‘, Berlin 2010. Stork/van Ophusken/Dorandi (2000) P.  Stork/J.  M. van Ophusken/T.  Dorandi: Demetrius of Phalerum. The Sources, Text and Translation, in: W.  W. Fortenbaugh/E.  Schütrumpf (eds.): Demetrius of Phalerum, New Brunswick/London 2000, 1–310. Strasburger (1939) H. Strasburger: s. v. Trierarchie, RE VII A1 (1939), 106–116.

340

Bibliography

Strasburger (1954) H. Strasburger: Der Einzelne und die Gemeinschaft im Denken der Griechen, HZ 117 (1954), 227–248. Strauss (1986) B.  S. Strauss: Athens after the Peloponnesian War. Class, Faction and Policy. 403–386 BC, Ithaca, NY 1986. Strauss (2007) B. S. Strauss: B. Naval Battles and Sieges, in: P. Sabin/H. van Wees/M. Whitby (eds.): The Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Warfare, vol. 1: Greece, the Hellenistic World, and the Rise of Rome, Cambridge 2007, 223–247. Strombach et al. (2014) T. Strombach/J. Jin/B. Weber/P. Kenning/Q. Shen/Q. Ma/T. Kalenscher: Charity Begins at Home. Cultural Differences in Social Discounting and Generosity, Journal of Behavioral Decision Making 27 (2014), 235–245. Stroud (1971) R. S. Stroud: Greek Inscriptions: Theozotides and the Athenian Orphans, Hesperia 40 (1971), 280–301. Stroud (1974) R. S. Stroud: An Athenian Law on Silver-Coinage, Hesperia 43 (1974), 157–188. Stroud (1998) R.  S. Stroud: The Athenian Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 B.  C., Hesperia Suppl. 29, Princeton 1998. Stroud (2010) R.  S. Stroud: Introduction, in: A.  Magnetto/D.  Erdas/C.  Carusi (eds.): Nuove ricerche sulla legge granaria ateniese del 374/3 a.C, Pisa 2010, 11–25. Stroud (2016) R. S. Stroud: The Athenian Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 B. C.: Unfinished Business, in: C. Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 185–193. Stubbs (1950) H. W. Stubbs: Spartan Austerity. A Possible Explanation, CQ 44 (1950), 32–37. Summa (2003) D.  Summa: Dalla coregia all’agonotesia attravero i documenti epigrafici, in: A. Martina (ed.): Teatro greco postclassico e teatro latino: teorie e prassi drammatica, Roma 2003, 510–532. Sundwall (1906) J. Sundwall: Epigraphische Beiträge zur sozial-politischen Geschichte Athens im Zeitalter des Demosthenes, Klio Beihefte 4, Leipzig 1906. Taplin (1977) O. Taplin: The Stagecraft of Aeschylus. The Dramatic Use of Exits and Entrances in Greek Tragedy, Oxford 1977. Taylor (2001a) C. Taylor: Bribery in Athenian Politics Part I: Accusations, Allegations and Slander, G&R 48 (2001), 53–66. Taylor (2001b) C. Taylor: Bribery in Athenian Politics Part II: Ancient Reaction and Reception, G&R 48 (2001), 154–172. Taylor (2007a) C.  Taylor: A New Political World, in: R.  Osborne (ed.): Debating the Athenian Cultural Revolution, Cambridge 2007, 72–90. Taylor (2007b) C. Taylor: The Sociology of Athenian Democracy. A Prosopographical Approach, in: K.  S. Keats-Rohan (ed.): Prosopography Approaches and Applications, Oxford 2007, 313–324. Taylor (2017) C.  Taylor: Poverty, Wealth, and Well-Being. Experiencing Penia in Democratic Athens, Oxford 2017. Tazelaar (1967) C. M. Tazelaar: ΠΑΙΔΕΣ ΚΑΙ ΕΦΗΒΟΙ. Some Notes on the Spartan Stages of Youth, Mnemosyne 20 (1967), 127–153. Tchernetska et al. (2007) N. Tchernetska/C. Austin/E. W. Handley/L. Horváth: New Readings in the Fragment of Hyperides’ Against Timandros from the Archimedes Palimpsest, ZPE 162 (2007), 1–4. Teegarden (2014) D. Teegarden: Death to Tyrants! Ancient Greek Democracy and the Struggle Against Tyranny, Princeton/Oxford 2014. Theocharaki (2011) A.  M. Theocharaki: The Ancient Circuit Wall of Athens, Hesperia 80 (2011), 71–156. Thomas (2016) R. Thomas: Performance, Audience Participation and the Dynamics of the Fourth-­ Century Assembly and Jury-Courts of Athens, in: C. Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 89–107. Thommen (1996) L.  Thommen: Lakedaimonion politeia. Die Entstehung der spartanischen Verfassung, Historia ES 103, Stuttgart 1996.

Bibliography

341

Thommen (2003a) L.  Thommen: Sparta. Verfassungs- und Sozialgeschichte einer griechischen Polis, Stuttgart 2003. Thommen (2003b) L. Thommen: Volkstribunat und Ephorat. Überlegungen zum “Aufseheramt” in Rom und Sparta, Göttinger Forum für Altertumswissenschaft 6 (2003), 19–38. Thommen (2004) L.  Thommen: Der Spartanische Kosmos und sein ‚Feldlager‘ der Homoioi. Begriffs- und forschungsgeschichtliche Überlegungen zum Sparta-Mythos, in: R. Rollinger/C. Ulf (eds.): Griechische Archaik, Berlin 2004, 127–141. Thommen (2014) L. Thommen: Die Wirtschaft Spartas, Stuttgart 2014. H. A. Thompson (1940) H. A. Thompson: The Tholos of Athens and Its Predecessors, Hesperia Suppl. 4, Princeton 1940. H. A. Thompson (1954) H. A. Thompson: Excavations in the Athenian Agora: 1953, Hesperia 23 (1954), 31–67. H. A. Thompson (1982) H. A. Thompson: The Pnyx in Models, in: A. L. Boegehold (ed.): Studies in Attic Epigraphy, History and Topography, Princeton 1982, 133–147. H. A. Thompson/Scranton (1943) H. A. Thompson/R. L. Scranton: Stoas and City Walls on the Pnyx, Hesperia 12 (1943), 269–383. H. A. Thompson/Wycherley (1972) H. A. Thompson/R. E. Wycherley: The Agora of Athens. The History, Shape and Uses of an Ancient City Center, The Athenian Agora 14, Princeton 1972. W. E. Thompson (1970) W. E. Thompson: Notes on Athenian Finance, C&M 28 (1970), 17–41. W. E. Thompson (1973) W. E. Thompson: Observations on Spartan Politics, RSA 3 (1973), 47–58. W. E. Thompson (1978) W. E. Thompson: The Athenian Investor, RSC 26 (1978), 403–423. Thomsen (1964) R. Thomsen: Eisphora. A Study of Direct Taxation in Ancient Athens, Humanitas 3, Copenhagen 1964. Thomsen (1977) R. Thomsen: War Taxes in Classical Athens, in: A. Chastagnol/Cl. Nicolet/H. Van Effenterre (eds.): Armées et fiscalité dans le monde antique, Paris 1977, 135–144. Thür (1995) G.  Thür: Die athenischen Geschworenengerichte  – eine Sackgasse?, in: W.  Eder (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, Stuttgart 1995, 321–334. Thür (2004) G.  Thür: Pachtzins und Vergabe der Silberminen im Laurion, in: L.  Ruscu/ C.  Ciongradi/R.  Ardevan/C.  Roman/C.  Gazdac (eds.): Orbis antiquus, Cluj-Napoca 2004, 159–163. Thüry (2001) G. E. Thüry: Müll und Marmorsäulen. Siedlungshygiene in der römischen Antike, Zaberns Bildbände zur Archäologie, Mainz 2001. Tiersch (2016a) C.  Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016. Tiersch (2016b) C. Tiersch: Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jh. v. Chr. zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, in: C.  Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 7–32. Tiersch (2018) C.  Tiersch: Selbstbeschreibung der Demokratie bei attischen Rednern, in: I.  Jordović/U.  Walter (eds.): Feindbild und Vorbild. Die athenische Demokratie und ihre intellektuellen Gegner, HZ Beiheft 74, Berlin/Boston 2018, 45–72. Tigerstedt (1965–1978) E.  N. Tigerstedt: The Legend of Sparta in Classical Antiquity, Acta Universitatis Stockholmiensis 9, Stockholm 1965–1978. Timmer (2009) J.  Timmer: Die Mehrheitsregel und die Legitimität von Entscheidungen in der attischen Demokratie des späten 5. und 4. Jhs. v. Chr., in: M.  Rathmann (ed.): Studien zur antiken Geschichtsschreibung, Bonn 2009, 25–53. Timmer (2016) J. Timmer: Schritte auf dem Weg des Vertrauens. Überlegungen zu Chancen und Grenzen der Steuerung von Handlungsdispositionen, in: C.  Tiersch (ed.): Die Athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert zwischen Modernisierung und Tradition, Stuttgart 2016, 33–53. Timmer (2017a) J.  Timmer: Vertrauen. Eine Ressource im politischen System der römischen Republik, Campus Historische Studien 74, Frankfurt/New York 2017. Timmer (2017b) J. Timmer: Planen – Vertrauen – Ignorieren. Die Unsicherheit der Zukunft und das Handeln des Aristokraten, in: M.  Bernhardt/W.  Blösel/S.  Brakensiek/B.  Scheller (eds.): Möglichkeitshorizonte. Zur Pluralität von Zukunftserwartungen und Handlungsoptionen in der Geschichte, Kontingenzgeschichten 4, Frankfurt a. M. 2017, 65–90.

342

Bibliography

Tod (1968) M. N. Tod: A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions, Oxford 1968. Todd (1990) S. C. Todd: The Use and Abuse of the Attic Orators, G&R 37 (1990), 159–178. Todd (1993a) S. C. Todd: The Shape of Athenian Law, Oxford 1993. Todd (1993b) S.  C. Todd: The Purpose of Evidence in Athenian Courts, in: P. Cartledge/P. Millett/S. Todd (eds.): Nomos, Cambridge 1993, 19–40. Todd (2005) S.  C. Todd: Law and Oratory at Athens, in: M.  Gagarin (ed.): The Cambridge Companion to Ancient Greek Law, Cambridge 2005, 97–111. Todd Lowry (1987) S. Todd Lowry: The Archaeology of Economic Ideas. The Classical Greek Tradition, Durham 1987. Tomasello (2010) M. Tomasello: Warum wir kooperieren, Frankfurt a. M. 2010. Tomlinson (1992) R. A. Tomlinson: The Menelaion and Spartan Architecture, in: J. M. Sanders (ed.): Philolakon: Lakonian Studies in Honour of Hector Catling, London 1992, 247–255. Tönnies (1887) F. Tönnies: Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft, Leipzig 1887. Too (2009) Y. L. Too: The Rhetoric of Identity in Isocrates. Text, Power, Pedagogy, Cambridge Classical Studies, Cambridge 1995. Torr (1993) C. Torr: Ancient Ships, Chicago 1993. Touloumakos (1967) J.  Touloumakos: Der Einfluss Roms auf die Staatsform der griechischen Stadtstaaten des Festlandes und der Inseln im ersten und zweiten Jhdt. v. Chr., Göttingen 1967. Townsend (1982) R. F. Townsend: Aspects of Athenian Architectural Activity in the Second Half of the Fourth Century B. C., Ann Arbor 1982. Townsend (1995) R. F. Townsend: The East Side of the Agora. The Remains Beneath the Stoa of Attalos, The Athenian Agora 27, Princeton 1995. Tozzi (2016) G. Tozzi: Assemblee politiche e spazio teatrale ad Atene, Padova 2016. Tracy (2000) S.  V. Tracy: Demetrius of Phalerum. Who was He and Who was He Not?, in: W.  W. Fortenbaugh/E.  Schütrumpf (eds.): Demetrius of Phalerum, New Brunswick/London 2000, 331–345. Traill (1994–2007) J. S. Traill: Persons of Ancient Athens, Toronto 1994–2007. Travlos (1971) I. N. Travlos: Bildlexikon zur Topographie des antiken Athen, Tübingen 1971. Travlos (1988) I. N. Travlos: Bildlexikon zur Topographie des antiken Attika, Tübingen 1988. Treister (1996) M. Treister: The Role of Metals in Ancient Greek History, Mnemosyne Suppl. 156, Leiden/New York 1996. Trevett (1992) J. Trevett: Apollodoros. The Son of Pasion, Oxford 1992. Trevett (1994) J. Trevett: Demosthenes’ Speech On Organization (Dem. XIII), GRBS 35 (1994), 179–193. Trevett (1996) J.  Trevett: Did Demosthenes Publish His Deliberative Speeches?, Hermes 124 (1996), 425–441. Trevett (2011) J.  Trevett: Introduction, in: Demosthenes, Speeches 1–17. Translated With Introduction and Notes by J. Tevett, The Oratory of Classical Greece 14, Austin 2011, 6–26. Tritle (1999) L.  A. Tritle: Leocrates: Athenian Businessman and Macedonian Agent?, in: Proceedings of the VI International Symposium on Ancient Macedonia, Thessaloniki 1999, 1227–1233. Trivers (1971) R.  L. Trivers: The Evolution of Reciprocal Altruism, The Quarterly Review of Biology 46 (1971), 35–57. Trundle (2004) M.  Trundle: Greek Mercenaries. From the Late Archaic Period to Alexander, London/New York 2004. Tsetskhladze (1997) G. Tsetskhladze: A Survey of the Major Urban Settlements in the Kimmerian Bosporos, in: M. H. Hansen/T. H. Nielsen (eds.): Yet More Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis, Stuttgart 1997, 39–81. Tsetskhladze (1998) G. Tsetskhladze: Trade on the Black Sea in the Archaic and Classical Periods. Some Observation, in: H.  Parkins/C.  J. Smith (eds.): Trade, Traders and the Ancient City, London/New York 1998, 52–74. Tsetskhladze (2008) G.  Tsetskhladze: ‘Grain for Athens’. The View from the Black Sea, in: R. Alston/O. van Nijf (eds.): Feeding the Ancient Greek City, Leuven 2008, 47–62.

Bibliography

343

Tsitsiridis (1998) S. Tsitsiridis: Platons Menexenos. Einleitung, Text, und Kommentar, Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 107, Stuttgart/Leipzig 1998. Tuci (2015) P.  A. Tuci: La città e le vedove: forme di assistenza pubblica (e privata), in: U. Roberto/P. A. Tuci (eds.): Tra marginalità e integrazione, Milano 2015, 33–55. Tully (2006) J. Tully: Democracy in Action: Office Holding in Fourth Century Athens. Pytheas of Alopece and the Panathenaic Quadrennium, Historia 55 (2006), 504–508. Tuplin (1982) C.  Tuplin: Satyros and Athens IG ii2 212 and Isokrates 17.57, ZPE 49 (1982), 121–128. Tuplin (1993) C. Tuplin: The Failings of Empire. A Reading of Xenophon Hellenica 2.3.11–7.5.27, Historia ES 76, Stuttgart 1993. Tuplin (1998) C. Tuplin: Demosthenes ‚Olynthiacs‘ and the Charater of the Demegoric Corpus, Historia 47 (1998), 276–320. Tyler (2001) T. R. Tyler: Why Do People Rely on Others? Social Identitiy and the Social Aspects of Trust, in: K. S. Cook (ed.): Trust in Society, New York 2001, 285–306. Tzvetkova (2007) J. Tzvetkova: The War Over the Chersonese. Zur Chronologie und Periodisierung des athenisch-odrysischen Konflikts um die thrakische Chersones, in: A.  Iakovidou (ed.): Thrace in the Graeco-Roman World, Athens 2007, 657–668. Unholtz (2011) J.  Unholtz: Der Oikos-Vorstand als Entrepreneur. Gewinnträchtige Praxis in Xenophons Oikonomikos, in: P. Seele (ed.): Ökonomie, Politik und Ethik in der praktischen Philosophie der Antike, Berlin 2011, 49–60. Untermann (1984) M.  Untermann: Neues zur Skeuothek des Philon, in: W.  Hoepfner (ed.): Bauplanung und Bautheorie der Antike, Diskussionen zur archäologischen Bauforschung 4, Berlin 1984, 81–86. Untersteiner (1993) M. Untersteiner: Les sophistes, 2 vols., Bibliothèque d’histoire de la philosophie, Paris 1993. Unz (1985) R. K. Unz: The Surplus of the Athenian Phoros, GRBS 26 (1985), 21–42. Urban (1986) R.  Urban: Zur inneren und äußeren Gefährdung griechischer Städte bei Aeneas Tacticus, in: H. Kalcyk (ed.): Studien zur alten Geschichte, Roma 1986, 989–1002. Urban (1991) R. Urban: Der Königsfrieden von 387/86 v. Chr. Vorgeschichte, Zustandekommen, Ergebnis und politische Umsetzung, Historia ES 68, Stuttgart 1991. Usher (2002) S. Usher: Greek Oratory. Tradition and Originality, Oxford 2002. Usteri (1903) P. Usteri: Ächtung und Verbannung im griechischen Recht, Berlin 1903. Valdés Guía/Gallego (2010) M.  Valdés Guía/J.  Gallego: Athenian Zeugitai and the Solonian Census Classes: New Reflections and Perspectives, Historia 59 (2010), 257–281. Valmin (1965) N. Valmin: Diobelia and Theorikon, OAth 6 (1965), 171–206. van Groningen/Wartelle (1968) B.  A. van Groningen/A.  Wartelle: Aristote. Économique, Paris 1968. van Ooteghem (1932) J. van Ooteghem: Démosthène et le théorikon, LEC 1 (1932), 388–407. Van Vugt/G.  Roberts/Hardy (2007) M.  Van Vugt/G.  Roberts/C.  Hardy: Competitive Altruism: Development of Reputation-Based Cooperation in Groups, in: R.  Dunbar/L.  Barrett (eds.): Oxford Handbook of Evolutionary Psychology, Oxford 2007, 531–540. Van Vugt/Van Lange (2006) M.  Van Vugt/P.  A. M.  Van Lange: Psychological Adaptations for Prosocial Behavior. The Altruism Puzzle, in: M. Schaller/J. A. Simpson/D. T. Kenrick (eds.): Evolution and Social Psychology, New York 2006, 237–261. van Wees (2000) H. van Wees: The City at War, in: R. Osborne (ed.): Classical Greece, 500–323 BC, Oxford/New York 2000, 81–110. van Wees (2001) H. van Wees: The Myth of the Middle-Class Army. Military and Social Status in Ancient Athens, in: T. Bekker-Nielsen/L. Hannestad (eds.): War as a Cultural and Social Force, Historisk-filosofiske skrifter 22, Copenhagen 2001, 45–70. van Wees (2004) H. van Wees: Greek Warfare. Myths and Realities, London 2004. van Wees (2007) H. van Wees: War and Society, in: P. Sabin/H. van Wees/M. Whitby (eds.): The Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Warfare, vol. 1: Greece, the Hellenistic World, and the Rise of Rome, Cambridge 2007, 273–299.

344

Bibliography

van Wees (2008) H. van Wees: „Diejenigen, die segeln, sollen Sold erhalten“. Seekriegführung und -finanzierung im archaischen Eretria, in: F.  Burrer/H.  Müller (eds.): Kriegskosten und Kriegsfinanzierung in der Antike, Darmstadt 2008, 128–150. van Wees (2009) H. van Wees: The Economy, in: K. A. Raaflaub/H. van Wees (eds.): A Companion to Archaic Greece, Oxford 2009, 444–467. van Wees (2011) H. van Wees: Demetrius and Draco. Athens’ Property Classes and Population In and Before 317 BC, JHS 131 (2011), 95–114. van Wees (2013) H. van Wees: Ships and Silver Taxes and Tribute. A Fiscal History of Archaic Athens, London 2013. Vanderpool (1949) E. Vanderpool: The Route of Pausanias in the Athenian Agora, Hesperia 18 (1949), 128–137. Vanhove (1996) D. Vanhove: Aristote et les mines du Laurion, AC 65 (1996), 243–249. Vannier (1988) F.  Vannier: Finances publiques et richesses privées dans le discours athénien aux Ve et IVe siècles, Annales littéraires de l’Université de Besançon, Centre de Recherche s d’Histoire Ancienne 75, Paris 1988. Vélissaropoulos (1977) J. Vélissaropoulos: Le monde de l’emporion, DHA 3 (1977), 61–85. Vélissaropoulos (1980) J.  Vélissaropoulos: Les nauclères grecs. Recherches sur les institutions maritimes en Grèce et dans l’Orient hellénisé, Genf 1980. Veyne (1976) P.  Veyne: Le pain et le cirque. Sociologie historique d’un pluralisme politique, Paris 1976. Veyne (1988) P.  Veyne: Brot und Spiele, Theorie und Gesellschaft 11, Frankfurt a. M./New York 1988. Vial (1984) C. Vial: Délos indépendante (314–167 avant J.-C.), Paris 1984. Victor (1983) U. Victor: [Aristoteles], “Oikonomikós”, Beiträge zur Klassischen Philologie 147, Königstein am Taunus 1983. Vidal-Naquet (1989) P. Vidal-Naquet: Der schwarze Jäger. Denkformen und Gesellschaftsformen in der griechischen Antike, Frankfurt a. M. 1989. Vielberg (1991) M.  Vielberg: Die religiösen Vorstellungen des Redners Lykurg, RhM 134 (1991), 49–68. Villacèque (2013) N. Villacèque: Spectateurs de paroles! Délibération démocratique et théâtre à Athènes à l’époque classique, Rennes 2013. Vinogradov/Kryžickij (1995) J. G. Vinogradov/S. D. Kryžickij: Olbia. Eine altgriechische Stadt im nordwestlichen Schwarzmeerraum, Leiden 1995. Vogel (1895) G.  Vogel: Die Ökonomik des Xenophon. Eine Vorarbeit für eine Geschichte der griechischen Ökonomik, Erlangen 1895. von den Hoff (2009) R. von den Hoff: Die Bildnisstatue des Demosthenes als öffentliche Ehrung eines Bürgers in Athen, in: C.  Mann/M.  Haake/R. von den Hoff (eds.): Rollenbilder in der athenischen Demokratie, Wiesbaden 2009, 193–220. von der Lieck (1933) K. von der Lieck: Die xenophontische Schrift von den Einkünften, Diss. Köln 1933. von Eickstedt (1991) K.-V. von Eickstedt: Beiträge zur Topographie des antiken Piräus, Athens 1991. von Reden (1995) S. von Reden: Piraeus. A World Apart, G&R 42 (1995), 24–37. von Reden (2007) S. von Reden: Classical Greece: Consumption, in: I. Morris/R. Saller/W. Scheidel (eds.): The Cambridge Economic History of The Greco-Roman World, Cambridge 2007, 385–406. von Reden (2015) S. von Reden: Antike Wirtschaft, EGRA10, Berlin 2015. Wagner/Weisgerber/Kroker (1985) G. A. Wagner/G. Weisgerber/W. Kroker: Silber, Blei und Gold auf Sifnos, Bochum 1985. Wagner-Hasel (2011) B.  Wagner-Hasel: Die Arbeit des Gelehrten. Der Nationalökonom Karl Bücher (1847–1930), Frankfurt a. M./New York 2011. F. W. Walbank (1966) F. W. Walbank: The Spartan Ancestral Constitution in Polybius, in: E. Badian (ed.): Ancient Society and Institutions, FS Ehrenberg, Oxford 1966, 303–312.

Bibliography

345

M. B. Walbank (1982) M. B. Walbank: The Confiscation and Sale by the Poletai in 402/1 B. C. of the Property of the Thirty Tyrants, Hesperia 51 (1982), 74–98. M. B. Walbank (1991) M. B. Walbank: Leases of Public Lands, in: G. V. Lalonde/M. K. Langdon/ M. B. Walbank (eds.): Inscriptions, Princeton 1991, 145–207. M. B. Walbank (2013) M. B. Walbank: Greek Inscriptions from the Athenian Agora. Fragments of a Financial Nature, Hesperia 82 (2013), 301–339. Wallace (1989a) R. W. Wallace: The Areopagos Council, to 307 B. C., Baltimore/London 1989. Wallace (1989b) R. W. Wallace: The Athenian Proeispherontes, Hesperia 58 (1989), 473–490. Wallner (2008) B. Wallner: Die Perioiken im Staat Lakedaimon, Hamburg 2008. Walser (2008) A. V. Walser: Bauern und Zinsnehmer. Politik, Recht und Wirtschaft im frühhellenistischen Ephesos, Vestigia 59, München 2008. Walter (1993) U. Walter: An der Polis teilhaben. Bürgerstaat und Zugehörigkeit im archaischen Griechenland, Historia ES 82, Stuttgart 1993. Walter (1996) U. Walter: Common Sense und Rhetorik. Isokrates – Verteidigung der politischen Kultur, GWU 47 (1996), 434–440. Walter (2003) U. Walter: Isokrates metanóôn? Traditionen athenischer Außen- und Kriegspolitik bei Isokrates, in: W. Orth (ed.): Isokrates, Trier 2003, 78–94. Wankel (1976) H. Wankel: Demosthenes. Rede für Ktesiphon über den Kranz, erläutert und mit einer Einleitung versehen, 2 vols., Heidelberg 1976. Wankel (1983) H.  Wankel: Bemerkungen zu dem athenischen Münzgesetz von 375/4, ZPE 52 (1983), 69–74. Warnke (1987) C.  Warnke: Warum hat August Boeckh die „Staatshaushaltung der Athener“ geschrieben? Wissenschaftshistorische Fakten und Überlegungen, Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift der Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin 36 (1987), 34–40. Warren (1992) P.  Warren: Lapis Lacedaemonius, in: J.  M. Sanders (ed.): Philolakon: Lakonian Studies in Honour of Hector Catling, London 1992, 285–296. Wassermann (1953) F. M. Wassermann: The Speeches of King Archidamus in Thucydides, CJ 48 (1953), 193–200. Wassermann (1964) F. M. Wassermann: The Voice of Sparta in Thucydides, CJ 59 (1964), 289–297. Waywell (1999) G. Waywell: Sparta and Its Topography, BICS 43 (1999), 1–23. Weber (1907/8) M.  Weber: Agrarverhältnisse im Altertum (1907/8), in: J.  Conrad/L.  Elster/ W.  Lexis/E.  Loening (eds.): Handwörterbuch der Staatswissenschaften, Jena 1909, 52–188 (reprint in: MWG I 6: Zur Sozial- und Wirtschaftsgeschichte des Altertums. Schriften und Reden 1893–1908, ed. by J. Deininger, Tübingen 2006, 320–747). Weber (1917) M. Weber: Rußlands Übergang zur Scheindemokratie, Die Hilfe. Wochenschrift für Literatur, Politik und Kunst, hrsg. von Friedrich Naumann, 23. Jg., Nr. 17 vom 26. April 1917, 272–279 (reprint in: MWG I 15: Zur Politik im Weltkrieg: Schriften und Reden 1914–1918, ed. by W. J. Mommsen, Tübingen 1984, 238–260). Weber (1921) M. Weber: Die Stadt, Archiv für Sozialwissenschaft und Sozialpolitik (reprint in: MWG I 22-5: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft. Die Wirtschaft und die gesellschaftliche Ordnungen und Mächte. Nachlass. Teilband 5: Die Stadt, ed. by W. Nippel, Tübingen 1999). Weber (1922a) M. Weber: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft, Grundriss der Sozialökonomik Abt. III, 4. Lieferung, Tübingen 1922, 603–612 und 642–817 (reprint in MWG I 22-4: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft. Die Wirtschaft und die gesellschaftlichen Ordnungen und Mächte. Nachlass. Teilband 4: Herrschaft, ed. by E. Hanke, Tübingen 2005, 117–716). Weber (1922b) M. Weber: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft. Grundriss der verstehenden Soziologie, 5th edition, ed. by J. Winkelmann, Tübingen 1980. Weissenberger (1987) M.  Weißenberger: Die Dokimasiereden des Lysias (orr. 16, 25, 26, 31), Beiträge zur Klassischen Philologie 182, Frankfurt a. M. 1987. Weissenberger (2003) M. Weißenberger: Lysias 1905–2000, Lustrum 45 (2003), 7–166. Welwei (1974) K.-W.  Welwei: Unfreie im antiken Kriegsdienst, 1. Teil: Athen und Sparta, Forschungen zur antiken Sklaverei 5, Wiesbaden 1974.

346

Bibliography

Welwei (1996) K.-W.  Welwei: Politische Kommunikation im klassischen Athen, in: G.  Binder/K.  Ehlich (eds.): Kommunikation in politischen und kultischen Gemeinschaften, Trier 1996, 25–50. Welwei (2004) K.-W.  Welwei: Sparta. Aufstieg und Niedergang einer antiken Großmacht, Stuttgart 2004. Welwei (2005) K.-W.  Welwei: Sparta. Zum Konstrukt eines oligarchischen Gegenbildes zur athenischen Demokratie, Gymnasium 112 (2005), 443–459. Welwei (2011a) K.-W.  Welwei: Athen: Von den Anfängen bis zum Beginn des Hellenismus, Darmstadt 2011. Welwei (2011b) K.-W. Welwei: Griechische Geschichte: Von den Anfängen bis zum Beginn des Hellenismus, Paderborn 2011. Werner (1955) R. Werner: Die Dynastie der Spartokiden, Historia 4 (1955), 412–444. Wesenberg (1985) B. Wesenberg: Kunst und Lohn am Erechtheion, AA (1985), 55–65. West (1989) W.  C. West: The Public Archives in Fourth-Century Athens, GRBS 30 (1989), 529–543. West (1995) W. C. West: The Decrees of Demosthenes Against Leptines, ZPE 107 (1995), 237–247. Westlake (1968) H. D. Westlake: Individuals in Thucydides, London 1968. Westlake (1986) H. D. Westlake: Spartan Intervention in Asia, 400–397 B. C., Historia 35 (1986), 405–426. Wevers (1969) R. F. Wevers: Isaeus. Chronology, Prosopography and Social History, Den Haag/ Paris, 1969. Whitby (1998) M.  Whitby: The Grain Trade of Athens in the Fourth Century BC, in: H. Parkins/C. J. Smith (eds.): Trade, Traders and the Ancient City, London/New York 1998, 102–128. Whitehead (1977) D. Whitehead: The Ideology of the Athenian Metic, Cambridge 1977. Whitehead (1983) D.  Whitehead: Competitive Outlay and Community Profit. Philotimia in Democratic Athens, C&M 34 (1983), 55–74. Whitehead (1984) D. Whitehead: Immigrant Communities in the Classical Polis. Some Principles for a Synoptic Treatment, AC 53 (1984), 47–59. Whitehead (1986a) D. Whitehead: The Demes of Attica 508/7–ca. 250 B. C. A Political and Social Study, Princeton 1986. Whitehead (1986b) D.  Whitehead: The Ideology of the Athenian Metic. Some Pendants and a Reappraisal, PCPhS 212 (1986), 145–158. Whitehead (1993) D.  Whitehead: Cardinal Virtues. The Language of Public Approbation in Democratic Athens, C&M 44 (1993), 37–75. Whitehead (2000) D. Whitehead: Hypereides. The Forensic Speeches, Oxford/New York 2000. Whitehead (2003) D. Whitehead: Aineias the Tactician. How to Survive Under Siege, Bristol 2003. Whitehead (2006) D.  Whitehead: Absentee Athenians. Lysias Against Philon and Lycurgus Against Leocrates, MH 63 (2006), 132–151. Wide (1893) S. Wide: Lakonische Kulte, Leipzig 1893. Wiemer (2010a) H.-U.  Wiemer: Review of S.  Carlsson: Hellenistic Democracies. Freedom, Independence and Political Procedure in Some East Greek City-states, Stuttgart 2010, in: sehepunkte 10 (2010), Nr. 9, 15.09.2010, http://www.sehepunkte.de/2010/09/16103.html. Wiemer (2010b) H.-U.  Wiemer: Review of V.  Grieb: Hellenistische Demokratie. Politische Organisation und Struktur in freien griechischen Poleis nach Alexander dem Großen, Historia ES199, Stuttgart 2008, HZ 290 (2010), 743–744. Wiesner (1994) J.  Wiesner: Antiphon, der Sophist und Antiphon, der Redner  – ein oder zwei Autoren?, WS 107 (1994), 225–243. Wijma (2014) S. M. Wijma: Embracing the Immigrant. The Participation of Metics in Athenian Polis Religion (5th–4th Century BC), Historia ES 233, Stuttgart 2014. Wilcken (1901) U.  Wilcken: Zu den pseudo-aristotelischen Oeconomica, Hermes 36 (1901), 188–200. Wilhelm (1934) A. Wilhelm: Untersuchungen zu Xenophons Poroi, WS 52 (1934), 18–52.

Bibliography

347

Wilke (1997) B. Wilke: Vergangenheit als Norm in der platonischen Staatsphilosophie, Philosophie der Antike 4, Stuttgart 1997. E.  Will (1975) E.  Will: Notes sur misthos, in: J.  Bingen/G.  Cambier/G.  Nachtergael (eds.): Le monde grec, Brüssel 1975, 426–438. W. Will (1983) W. Will: Athen und Alexander. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der Stadt von 338 bis 322 v. Chr., Münchner Beiträge zur Papyrusforschung und antiken Rechtsgeschichte 77, München 1983. W. Will (2013) W. Will: Demosthenes, Darmstadt 2013. A.  Williams (2011) A.  Williams: Leasing of Sacred Land in 4th Century Athens, Hesperia 80 (2011), 261–286. J.  M. Williams (1987) J.  M. Williams: The Peripatetic School and Demetrius of Phalerum’s Reforms in Athens, AncW 15 (1987), 87–98. C.  H. Wilson (1970) C.  H. Wilson: Athenian Military Finances, 378/7 to the Peace of 375, Athenaeum 48 (1970), 302–326. P. Wilson (2000) P. Wilson: The Athenian Institution of the Khoregia. The Chorus, the City and the Stage, Cambridge 2000. P.  Wilson (2003) P.  Wilson: The Politics of Dance. Dithyrambic Contest and Social Order in Ancient Greece, in: D.  J. Phillips/D.  M. Pritchard (eds.): Sport and Festival in the Ancient Greek World, Swansea 2003, 163–196. P. Wilson (2007) P. Wilson: Choruses for Sale in Thorikos. A Spekulative Note on SEG 34,107, ZPE 161 (2007), 125–132. P. Wilson (2008) P. Wilson: Costing the Dionysia, in: M. Revermann/P. Wilson (eds.): Performance, Iconography, Reception, Oxford 2008, 88–127. P. Wilson (2010) P. Wilson: How Did the Athenian Demes Fund Their Theatre?, in: B. Le Guen (ed.): L’argent dans les concours du monde grec, Saint-Denis 2010, 37–82. P.  Wilson (2011) P.  Wilson: The Glue of Democracy? Tragedy, Structure, and Finance, in: D.  M. Carter (eds.): Why Athens? A Reappraisal of Tragic Politics, Oxford/New York 2011, 19–43. P.  Wilson (2015) P.  Wilson: The Festival of Dionysos in Ikarion: A New Study of IG I3 254, Hesperia 84 (2015), 97–147. Windhoff-Héritier (1989) A.  Windhoff-Héritier: Rational Choice-Theorie und neuer Institutionalismus. Konkurrierende oder komplementäre Erklärungsansätze in der Politikwissenschaft, Bielefeld 1989. Winterling (1991) A. Winterling: Polisbegriff und Stasistheorie des Aeneas Tacticus. Zur Frage der Grenzen der griechischen Polisgesellschaften im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., Historia 40 (1991), 193–229. Winterling (1993) A.  Winterling: „Arme“ und „Reiche“. Die Struktur der griechischen Polisgesellschaften in Aristoteles’ ‚Politik‘, Saeculum 44 (1993), 179–205. Wirth (1985a) G. Wirth: Philipp II., Stuttgart 1985. Wirth (1985b) G.  Wirth: Nearchos, der Flottenchef, in: G.  Wirth (ed.): Studien zur Alexandergeschichte, Darmstadt 1985, 51–75. Wirth (1997) G. Wirth: Lykurg und Athen im Schatten Philipps II., in: W. Eder (ed.): Volk und Verfassung im vorhellenistischen Griechenland, Stuttgart 1997, 191–225. Witte (1995) J. Witte: Demosthenes und die Patrios Politeia. Von der imaginären Verfassung zur politischen Idee, Bonn 1995. C. Wolff (2010) C. Wolff: Sparta und die peloponnesische Staatenwelt in archaischer und klassischer Zeit, München 2010. H. J. Wolff (1966) H. J. Wolff: Die attische Paragraphe. Ein Beitrag zum Problem der Auflockerung archaischer Prozeßformen, Graezistische Abhandlungen 2, Weimar 1966. Worley (1994) L.  J. Worley: Hippeis. The Cavalry of Ancient Greece, History and Warfare, Boulder 1994. Wörrle/Zanker (1995) M.  Wörrle/P.  Zanker (eds.): Stadtbild und Bürgerbild im Hellenismus, München 1995.

348

Bibliography

Worthington (1992) I.  Worthington: A Historical Commentary on Dinarchus. Rhetoric and Conspiracy in Later Fourth-century Athens, Ann Arbor 1992. Worthington (1994) I. Worthington: The Canon of the Ten Attic Orators, in: I. Worthington (ed.): Persuasion, London/New York 1994, 244–263. Worthington (1999) I. Worthington: Greek Orators II: Dinarchus, Hyperides, Warminster 1999. Worthington (2000) I. Worthington (ed.): Demosthenes. Statesman and Orator, London 2000. Worthington (2007) I. Worthington (ed.): A Companion to Greek Rhetoric, Oxford 2007. Worthington (2008) I. Worthington: Philip II of Macedonia, New Haven 2008. Worthington (2014) I. Worthington: By the Spear. Philip II, Alexander the Great, and the Rise and Fall of the Macedonian Empire, Oxford 2014. Worthington/Cooper/Harris (2001) I.  Worthington/C.  R. Cooper/E.  M. Harris: Dinarchus, Hyperides, and Lycurgus, The Oratory of Classical Greece 5, Austin 2001. Wurster (1979) W.  W. Wurster: Die neuen Untersuchungen am Dionysostheater in Athen, Architectura 9 (1979), 58–76. Wycherley (1973) R. E. Wycherley: Literary and Epigraphical Testimonia, The Athenian Agora 3, Princeton 1973. Yun-Casalilla (2012) B. Yun-Casalilla: Introduction: The Rise of the Fiscal State in Eurasia From a Global, Comparative and Transnational Perspective, in: B. Yun-Casalilla/P. O’Brien (eds.): The Rise of Fiscal States, New York 2012, 1–35. Zahrnt (1971) M. Zahrnt: Olynth und die Chalkidier. Untersuchungen zur Staatenbildung auf der Chalkidischen Halbinsel im 5. und 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., Vestigia 14, München 1971. Zelnick-Abramovitz (2005) R.  Zelnick-Abramovitz: Not Wholly Free. The Concept of Manumission and the Status of Manumitted Slaves in the Ancient Greek World, Mnemosyne Suppl. 266, Leiden/Boston 2005. Zelnick-Abramovitz (2011) R. Zelnick-Abramovitz: The Guardian of the Land: The Areopagos Council as a Symbol of Stability, in: G.  Herman (ed.): Stability and Crisis in the Athenian Democracy, Stuttgart 2011, 103–126. Ziebarth (1929) E.  Ziebarth: Beiträge zur Geschichte des Seeraubs und Seehandels im alten Griechenland, Hamburg 1929. Ziebarth (1933) E. Ziebarth: Neue Beiträge zum griechischen Seehandel, Klio 26 (1933), 231–247. Ziebarth (1936) E. Ziebarth: Eine Handelsrede aus der Zeit des Demosthenes. Die Rede XXXIV gegen Phormion, Heidelberg 1936. B. Zimmermann (2008) B. Zimmermann: Dithyrambos. Geschichte einer Gattung, Berlin 2008. H.-D. Zimmermann (1974) H.-D. Zimmermann: Freie Arbeit, Preise und Löhne, in: E. C. Welskopf (ed.): Hellenische Poleis. Krise – Wandlung – Wirkung, vol. 1, Berlin 1974, 92–107. Zoepffel (2006) R.  Zoepffel: Aristoteles, Oikonomika. Schriften zu Hauswirtschaft und Finanzwesen, übers. und erl. von R.  Zoepffel, Aristoteles. Werke in deutscher Übersetzung 10.2, Berlin 2006. Zucker (1976) F. Zucker: Isokrates’ „Panathenaikos“, in: F. Seck (ed.): Isokrates, Darmstadt 1976, 227–252.