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Faculty of Arts & Philosophy

Thierry Oppeneer

Democratic Elements in the Greek cities of


the Roman Empire
An investigation into the politics of the post-Classical city
in the writings of Dio of Prusa and Plutarch of Chaeronea

Thesis submitted in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of


Master of Arts in History

2012

Promoter
Copromoter

Prof. dr. Arjan Zuiderhoek


Department of History
Prof. dr. Kristoffel Demoen
Department of Literature

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank prof. dr. Arjan Zuiderhoek whose knowledge of ancient politics has been of great
help in writing this thesis and prof. dr. Kristoffel Demoen for his help in understanding the complex
literary context of the ancient texts that will serve as the primary sources of this thesis. The
responsibility for all remaining errors rests of course entirely with me.
I would also like to thank my parents for giving me the opportunity to study history at Ghent
University and for their support during my entire education.

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Preface

Why should we study ancient politics? A first reason is the influence of the Greeks and the Romans on
modern political ideas and vocabulary. Many terms and concepts of western politics were developed
in antiquity. The Greeks were the first to think systematically about different types of government,
such as democracy, monarchy and oligarchy, and about important political concepts, such as
citizenship. The political questions asked by Plato, Aristotle and Cicero are of almost universal value
and inspire political debates even today. Besides the influence of the Greeks and the Romans on
modern politics, antiquity can be useful as a source for political exempla. Together the Greeks and the
Romans theorized about and practiced politics for more than a thousand years.
A second reason is that the ancient Greek cities, in contrast with other societies, could conceive a
form of politics in which there was room for the political participation of the entire citizen body. As
the title of this thesis already suggests I will be focusing on the democratic aspects of ancient politics.
The twentieth century has seen an unprecedented and worldwide growth in the number of
democracies. Many people in the United States and Europe have no doubts about the moral and
political superiority of democracy1 and recently even Islamic governments have found it impossible to
ignore the call for democracy. Yet seen from a historical perspective the current popularity of
democracy can be called relatively new. During the last 2500 years democracy was often described as
an inferior form of government and even today there are many countries in which a different type of
government is adopted. Less than a century ago the future of democracy in Europe was very dark. The
democracies of Europa had become a minority that was threatened with extinction by the power of
totalitarian regimes. After the Second World War communism became the dominant type of
government for half of Europe. Only after the fall of the Iron curtain democracys triumph seemed
universal.2 Many eastern European countries, however, still struggle in their attempt to become more
democratic.
Democracy has become a popular term and most governments see themselves as democratic. Nondemocratic governments often claim to be in a transition towards democracy and even dictators say
that their countries are democracies. According to Robert Dahl this has made democracy a term that

L.J. Samons II, Whats Wrong with Democracy? From Athenian Practice to American Worship, Berkeley, University of California
Press, 2004, p. 3.
2
K.A. Raaflaub, Einleitung und Bilanz: Kleisthenes, Ephialtes und die Begriindung der Demokratie, in: Demokratia: Der Weg zur
Demokratie bei den Griechen, Darmstadt, Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1995, p. 3.

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can mean anything, and therefore a term that means nothing.3 Until the middle of the nineteenth
century democracy had a different meaning than today. Democracy was only used to describe a type of
government like that of classical Athens, in which the people could vote directly on all important
decisions of state.4 In a modern state the people had to vote on representatives to make the decisions
for them. Modern democracies, like the United States, were therefore called republics, democratic
republics or representative democracies.5 Nowadays all these different types are called democracy.
So we can conclude that there is still much to be said on the subject of democracy, but is the
ancient concept of democracy still relevant today? It must be said that the ancient form of democracy
did not play a role of significance in the development of modern democracy, not on an institutional
level and not on the level of concepts and ideas.6 Ancient democracy is not important because of a
direct historical link between now and then. It can, however, be useful to reflect on the value and
desirability of democratic institutions and ideas and help us to think out of the box.
Over the last decades there has been a real revival in studies on ancient democracy. Most studies,
however, concentrate on the period of the fifth and fourth century B.C. and are limited to the Athenian
democracy. Relatively little attention has been given to the other democracies of the ancient world,
both those in the Classical period and those of the post-Classical period. There is of course a good
reason for this. The fact is that classical Athens is overrepresented in the sources. We are therefore
relatively well informed about the politics of Athens.7 Yet this is only an explanation and certainly not
a justification for the neglectance of other ancient democracies in modern scholarship. Moreover, other
reasons that are less excusable might have been more decisive. Modern scholarship has often
consciously overlooked the politics of post-Classical cities, because of their supposed irrelevance. The
neglectance of the Hellenistic and Roman cities was based on the value judgement that the Athenian
democracy, like other components of the Athenian society, was worth studying, because of its
superiority over other and later societies.
In this thesis I will study the politics and especially the democratic elements of the Greek cities in
the Roman Empire in the first two centuries A.D. In doing this I also hope to contribute in some way to
the current debates concerning democracy in the post-Classical period. For a long time the dominant
perspective has been one of the decline of the post-Classical city and the disappearance of democracy.
Here I will adopt a different perspective and argue that there were still democratic aspects in the
Graeco-Roman city.

R.A. Dahl, Democracy and Its Critics, New Haven-Londen, Yale University Press, 1989, p. 2.
P. Liddel, Democracy Ancient and Modern, in: A Companion to Greek and Roman Political Thought, Malden, Wiley-Blackwall,
2009, p. 143.
5
L.J. Samons II, Op. Cit., p. 1.
6
M.H. Hansen, The Tradition of Ancient Greek Democracy and its Importance for Modern Democracy, Kopenhagen, The Royal
Danish Academy of Sciences and Letters, 2005, pp. 27, 28.
7
S. Carlsson, Hellenistic Democracies: freedom, independence and political procedure in some east Greek city-states, Stuttgart,
Franz Steiner Verlag, 2010, p. 14.
4

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List of Abbreviations

Ancient Authors and Texts

Aristot. = Aristotle
Pol. = Politics
Cic. = Cicero
Dio = Dio of Prusa
Or. = Oratio
Philost. = Flavius Philostratus
VS = Vitae Sophistarum
Plin. = Pliny the Younger
Plut. = Plutarch of Chaeronea
An sen. = An Seni Respublica Gerenda sit
Praec. = Praecepta Gerendae Reipublicae

Modern Works and Collections

GRBS = Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies.


Jones, GCAJ = A.H.M. Jones, The Greek City from Alexander to Justinian, Oxford, Clarendon Press,
1940, 393 p.
JHS = Journal of Hellenic Studies
JRS = Journal of Roman Studies

Ober, MEDA = J. Ober, Mass and Elite in democratic Athens; rhetoric, ideology, and the power of the
people, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1989, p.
Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht = F. Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht in den Stdten des griechischen
Ostens: Untersuchungen zur politischen und sozialen Entwicklung in hellenistischer und
rmischer Zeit. Stuttgart, Steiner, 1993, 451 p.
Ste. Croix, CSAGW = G.E.M. de Ste. Croix, The Class Struggle in the Ancient Greek World, Ithaca,
Cornell University Press, 1981, 732 p.
Swain, Dio Chrysostom = S. Swain ed., Dio Chrysostom; Politics, Letters and Philosophy, Oxford,
Oxford University Press, 2000, 308 p.
Van Nijf and Alston, PCGC = O. Van Nijf and R. Alston eds. Political Culture in the Greek City after
the Classical Age. Leuven, Peeters, 2011, 349 p.

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Table of Contents

Introduction 1
1.1

Research Question ................................................................................................................... 1


Dmokratia .............................................................................................................................. 2

1.2
1.3

Sources..................................................................................................................................... 5
Methodology ............................................................................................................................ 6
1.3.1 Power .......................................................................................................................... 7
1.3.2 Literature ................................................................................................................... 10

1.4

Structure................................................................................................................................. 13

Part 1..................................................................................................................................................... 15
Chapter 1

The Decline of the Polis? ........................................................................................... 17

1.1

Autonomy .............................................................................................................................. 19
1.1.1 The Impact of Roman Rule ....................................................................................... 20

1.2

Dmokratia ............................................................................................................................ 23
1.2.1 Magistrates and Liturgies .......................................................................................... 24
1.2.2 The Council............................................................................................................... 27
1.2.3 The Assembly ........................................................................................................... 33

1.3

Conclusion ............................................................................................................................. 40

Chapter 2

The Second Sophistic ................................................................................................. 41

2.1
2.2
2.3

Second century literature: secondary literature? .................................................................... 42


The Concept of the Second Sophistic: origins and usefulness............................................... 43
Debate .................................................................................................................................... 45
2.3.1 The Second Sophistic: A Literary Phenomenon? ..................................................... 45
2.3.2 The Second Sophistic: A political phenomenon? ..................................................... 45
2.3.3 The Second Sophistic: A cultural phenomenon? ...................................................... 47
2.3.4 Towards a new perspective ....................................................................................... 48

2.4

Conclusion ............................................................................................................................. 51

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Part 2 ..................................................................................................................................................... 53
Chapter 3

Dio, Plutarch and their Works ................................................................................. 55

3.1

Dio of Prusa ........................................................................................................................... 55


3.1.1 Themes ...................................................................................................................... 56
3.1.2 Genre ......................................................................................................................... 57

3.2

Plutarch of Chaeronea ............................................................................................................ 59


3.2.1 Plutarchs Works ....................................................................................................... 60

Chapter 4

Mass and Elite ............................................................................................................ 61

4.1

The Institutional Perspective .................................................................................................. 61


4.1.1 The Magistrates ......................................................................................................... 62
4.1.2 The Assembly............................................................................................................ 67

4.2

The Discourse Paradigm ........................................................................................................ 73


4.2.1 The Dmos from an Elite Perspective ....................................................................... 73
4.2.2 The Communication between Mass and Elite ........................................................... 85

4.3

Conclusion ............................................................................................................................. 92

Conclusion ............................................................................................................................................ 93
Bibliography 95

Appendix ............................................................................................................................................. 103


Correspondence between Pliny and Trajan. ................................................................................... 103
Cicero Pro Flacco ........................................................................................................................... 106
IG XII,9 11 ..................................................................................................................................... 108

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Introduction

In this introduction I will introduce and clarify the subject of my thesis and the way in which I will be
approaching it. First I will describe and explain the research question this thesis tries to answer. Here I
will also say a few words on the terminology that will be used. After a short paragraph on the primary
sources of this thesis, follows a substantial paragraph on methodology. In it the most important
theories and paradigms that I have made use of in trying to answer the research question will be
summarized. The final part of this introduction will give an overview of the structure of this thesis.

1.1

Research Question

The subject of this thesis is the political life of the Greek cities, or poleis, of the Roman Empire from
around 50 to 150 A.D. The cities of this period are particularly known for the vast amount of
architectural remains and inscriptions. Because there were many poleis in the eastern part of the
empire, it is necessary to limit the scope of this thesis. I will be focusing on the cities that are
mentioned in the works of Plutarch of Chaeronea and Dio of Prusa. These cities are mostly located in
the Roman provinces of Asia and Bithynia-Pontus. The cities of the Roman East had a constitution
that was often highly similar. The political system consisted of magistrates (archontes), a council
(boul), and a popular assembly (ekklsia). The general view in modern scholarship is that by the
Roman imperial period the boul had become by far the most important institution of the city which
indicates that these cities had shifted to a more oligarchic and non-democratic society.1
The research question that forms the starting point for this thesis is as follows: Was there still any
room left for democratic elements in civic politics in the first two centuries A.D.?

F. Millar, The Greek City in the Roman Period, in: F. Millar, H.M. Cotton and G.M. Rogers eds. Rome, the Greek World and the
East, Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 2002, III + pp. 106, 118.
1

Were the people of the post-Classical city still a force that should be taken into account by others, for
example members of the elite? In order to figure out whether this was the case or not, we will first
examine the functioning of the political institutions of the Graeco-Roman city. Were popular
assemblies still convened, did they possess real powers, and what was their relation with the council?
The other political institutions of the polis, such as the council and the magistrates, will also be taken
into consideration, but they will receive slightly less attention in this thesis. The next step in answering
the research question is an investigation of the relationship between mass and elite. Who was
dominant in the politics of the city? Before going into more detail on the methods I will be using to
find some answers to these questions, I will first say a few words on the important terms polis and
dmokratia.
The polis is an important concept that will appear frequently throughout this thesis and is therefore
in need of a definition. The Greek poleis of the Roman period cannot be called city-states, I will often
use city as a translation, but this does not fully cover the meaning of the word. Although he only based
it on archaic and classical evidence, M. H. Hansen has provided a useful definition for this thesis with
his Lex Hafniensis de Civitate: Polis used in the sense of town to denote a named urban centre is
applied not just to any urban centre but only to a town which was also the centre of a polis in the sense
of political community. Thus, the term polis has two different meanings: town and state; but even
when it is used in the sense of town its reference, its denotation, seems almost invariably to be what
the Greeks called polis in the sense of a koinonia politon politeias and what we call a city-state.
Throughout this thesis it is important to keep in mind that being a political community was one of the
most defining features of the polis even in Roman times. Although the Greek city in the Roman period
also became defined by its public buildings and architecture, it remained a political community. Much
more than the cities of today the post-Classical polis retained genuine value, juridically, politically
and psychologically for its citizens.2

1.1.1

Dmokratia

In order to answer the research question it is important to know what exactly is meant with democracy
or dmokratia. Most of the time I will be using the transliterations dmokratia and polis instead of
the modern words democracy and city-state. Leaving these concepts untranslated is meant to
prevent the easy pitfall of associating these concepts with their English equivalents which can be
anachronistic and misleading. Avoiding translation, however, would be concealing the problem of
what these concepts really mean under a mask of authenticity, if I did not specifically state what these
concepts did or did not mean.3 Therefore I will give a short introduction into the most important
concept of this thesis, democracy or dmokratia.
Dmokratia, literally meaning rule by the people, is the Greek concept for a form of state, in which
the power is in the hands of the dmos, the whole of the citizenry, and not in the hands of the few,
oligarchia, or in the hands of one person, monarchia. A democracy differs from oligarchy on two

M.I. Finley, The Ancient City: From Fustel de Coulanges to Max Weber and beyond, in: Comparative Studies in Society and
History, Vol. 19, No. 3 (Jul., 1977), p. 307.
3
T. Whitmarsh, Ancient History Through Ancient Literature, in: A, Erskine (ed). A Companion to Ancient History. Blackwell
Publishing, 2009, p. 80.
2

important points. First, in a democracy all the men, who were born there, were citizens with rights,
who could take part in the popular assembly, the juries, and, sometimes with exception of the poorest,
the offices. Second, most of the power of state resided with the popular assembly, and not with any
other council, or the magistrates.4 This definition is fine as a short indication of the most important
elements of ancient democracy. There were, however, many different types of democracy in antiquity
and each of them had elements that were more or less democratic according to different criteria. In the
first chapter we will consider Aristotles definitions of the formation and functioning of democratic
institutions.
Here we will first look at a modern definition of democracy given by Robert Dahl and apply it to
ancient democracy. According to him the most important aspect of a democratic state is that the
citizens of that state view one another as basically equal in their competence to participate in
governing, or in other words, the members of a democratic state must consider themselves to be
political equals. Dahl distinguishes five criteria for judging whether a specific process is democratic or
not.5 Here I will take four of these criteria for democracy, apply them to the state and describe in what
way ancient dmokratia could have fulfilled them. In the following chapters I will then use these
modified criteria in assessing whether the Graeco-Roman cities were in fact democratic.
Each citizen of a democratic state must have the ability to participate actively in the decision
making process. This means that each citizen has an equal and effective opportunity to advocate his
opinion about the best policy to be adopted and that he can make his opinion known to the other
citizens.6 In the Athenian dmokratia the concepts of isegoria (the right to speak) and parrhesia
(freedom of speech) can be linked to this first criterion. Isegoria, found its most explicit application in
the ekklsia. After a specific measure was proposed the herald asked the question: Who wishes to
speak? It is at this moment each Athenian citizen could step unto the bema (speakers platform) to
make use of his right to speak. He could try to persuade the assembly to amend the proposal, in one
way or another, or to introduce a whole new proposal on the subject. In this way every man could have
a say in the policy of the polis.7 In order to fulfil this first criterion for democracy the Greek cities in
the Roman imperial period should still have fully functioning popular assemblies. Normal citizens
should have the opportunity to speak and the dmos should be able to amend or reject propositions
made by the council.
The second criterion of Dahl is that each citizen should have an equal and effective opportunity to
vote on the final decisions of the state, and that the vote of every citizen should be counted as equal.8
In Classical Athens the equal and effective opportunity to vote for each citizen meant that there was
state pay for attending the assembly or popular courts. In this way also the poorer citizens could
participate. Outside Athens, however, state pay for attendance of the political institutions seems rarely
to have existed. In order to fulfil this second criterion the poleis of the Roman Empire should have
popular courts and assemblies in which the citizens could still vote.
The third criterion states that each citizen should have an equal and effective opportunity for
exploring the issues that will be voted on. This means that they have access to information on the

H. Cancik and H. Schneider eds., Der Neue Pauly : Enzyklopdie der Antike, Stuttgart, Metzler, 1996-2007, pp. 452, 453.
R. A. Dahl, On Democracy, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1998, pp. 37, 38.
6
Ibidem, p. 37.
7
A. G. Woodhead, " and the Council of 500" in: Historia Zeitschrift fr Alte Geschichte, Franz Steiner Verlag, 16 (1967),
2, pp. 129,130.
8
R. A. Dahl, On Democracy, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1998, p. 37.
5

proposals under consideration, the possible alternatives, and their likely consequences.9 Again this
would require a fully functioning popular assembly in which the citizens could hear about different
proposals and the dmos as a whole should be able to amend or reject a proposal of the boul. Citizens
could also learn about proposals by debates in the other public arenas of the polis, such as the theatre
and agora (marketplace).
The final criterion is that citizens should decide on how a proposal is to be placed on the agenda. In
this way the decision making process is open to change.10 In a Classical dmokratia the agenda for the
popular assembly was usually decided by the council at least in part because of practical reasons. In
Athens the boul decided which proposals were placed on the agenda and were later to be voted on by
the ekklsia. These proposals were called probouleumata. The men who served on the council were
selected by lot from the whole citizen body. This process was repeated each year. In the Roman
period, however, the councils of the Greek cities had undergone some changes. Whether this fourth
criterion was fulfilled for these cities will be assessed below.
According to Dahl these four criteria are very demanding. A state in which all four of these criteria
were implemented to the fullest has therefore never existed in reality. Dahl sees his four criteria more
as tools for judging the democratic level of a particular political system and for improving democratic
governments. In the following chapters I will also use these criteria in this way. In the conclusion
these tools will be used to answer the question whether dmokratia in the Graeco-Roman polis still
existed or not.
Before going to the paragraph on methodology, however, one last aspect of dmokratia must be
taken into account. Since the middle of the last century a fifth criterion for democracy has been widely
accepted. The citizens or citizen body that I referred to in the four criteria above should include all
adult subjects of the state.11 This is a relatively new idea that was entirely absent from ancient politics.
A central feature of Greek politics was its severe restriction of access to citizenship. In the ancient
society women, slaves and outsiders were excluded from the citizen body and had no say in politics.
When talking about the power of the people or dmos, we must never forget that this was already an
exclusive part of the entire population. On the one hand this should prevent us from idealizing the
Greek dmokratia and confusing our modern ideas of democracy with those of the Greeks. This is one
of the examples why it is justified to use the transliteration dmokratia instead of the English
equivalent democracy. On the other hand this should not mean that every comparison between
ancient and modern democracy is impossible. Other political institutions or practices can still be
examples for modern times. After all it is not the task of historians to award or subtract credits
according to our own value-systems.12 The Greeks did not think of an inclusive vision on citizenship as
a precondition for the name dmokratia. It is for this reason that the fifth criterion for democracy will
not be applied in this thesis for an assessment of the democratic elements of the Greek cities in the
Roman Empire.

Ibidem, p. 37.
Ibidem, p. 38.
11
Ibidem, p. 38.
12
M.I. Finley, Politics in the Ancient World, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1983, p. 9.
10

1.2

Sources

The goal of this thesis is not only to give a status quaestionis on democratic elements in the politics of
the Graeco-Roman cities, but also to contribute in a small way to the existing research on the subject. I
will try to do this by analysing some literary sources. The works of two authors will be discussed after
the historical and literary context of the first chapters. The first author is Dio of Prusa, who lived from
ca. 45 to 115 A.D. Dio of Prusa is also known as Dio Chrysostom meaning Golden Mouthed, because
of the style and quality of his speeches. This is also the reason why his works were used as a model for
later generations and therefore the reason why his texts have survived the ages. He came from the
Bithynic town Prusa nowadays known as Bursa. His literary works consist of some eighty orations of
which at least two were spuria that are now attributed to Favorinus. His work contains valuable
information for historians specialized in the socio-political aspects of civic life in the cities of Asia
Minor. Besides that his orations can also be used to study Stoic and Cynic philosophies.13 The texts
that are most useful for our current purposes are the Orationes 7, and 31 50.
The second author under consideration is Plutarch of Chaeronea, who lived from ca. 45 to 120 A.D.
He spent most of his life in the relatively small city of Chaeronea situated in Boeotia at the centre of
Greece and comparatively close to Delphi.14 He is mostly known for his Parallel Lives in which he
compares a famous Greek with a famous Roman. The many other works of Plutarch are combined in
his Moralia. From these two will be discussed here, namely his Praecepta gerendae reipublicae
(Precepts of Statecraft) and his An seni respublica gerenda sit (Whether an old man should engage in
public affairs). In his Precepts of Statecraft Plutarch writes in reaction to a request for advice on
politics from Menemachus, a young politician who probably lived in Sardis. In his Old Men in Public
Affairs Plutarch tries to convince a certain Euphanes to stay engaged in public affairs in spite of his
old age.
These two ancient authors and their works are very different from each other. The Discourses of
Dio Chrysostom are sophistic speeches mostly on political related subjects, whereas the texts of his
contemporary Plutarch are essays of a more philosophical nature. Together these writers will be able, I
hope, to give a new perspective on the politics of the Greek cities of the Roman East. In Part two of
this thesis I will be giving more information about these authors and the specific nature of their works.
The translations of all the ancient writers I will be using throughout this thesis are those of the Loeb
Classical Library, unless stated otherwise. Before going to the explanation of the methodology of this
thesis, a final thing regarding the choice for source material must be said.
An important source of information for the Roman imperial period is epigraphy. According to
Fergus Millar it is in this period that the Greek cities provided the fullest expression of their own
communal identity, through the medium of inscriptions which made them more visible than ever
before.15 Although epigraphy as a source will not be entirely absent from this thesis, most attention will
be given to literary sources. Assessing both literary and epigraphic sources would be a too ambitious
project. I have therefore chosen not to use inscriptions as a source for my own investigation. Both

13

Swain, Dio Chrysostom, pp. 1-10.


C.P. Jones, Plutarch and Rome, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1971, pp. 3, 4.
15
F. Millar, The Greek City in the Roman Period, in: F. Millar, H.M. Cotton and G.M. Rogers eds. Rome, the Greek World and the
East, Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 2002, III + p. 106.
14

inscriptions and ancient texts have their own interpretational problems. In the last decades historians
have become aware of the fact that inscriptions are not undistorted reflections of the political and
social institutions of antiquity.16 Ramsay MacMullen has made some important remarks about the use
of epigraphy for studying the history of the Roman Empire. Historians tend to say that this or that
activity or behaviour was prominent, vital, declining or the like according to the frequency of
epigraphic attestation. That assumes, however, that the body of all inscriptions against which
attestation is measured does not itself rise or fall - a false assumption.17 So a rise in the number of
honorary inscriptions would not necessarily mean that there was also a growing tendency to honour
elite members of the city. This first problem, however, is not problematic if one is cautious about it.
What is more problematic is that inscriptions tend to give a static and stereotype image of the
internal relations of the polis. The image of the city we get from epigraphic sources is an idealized one
in which there is little or no room for conflict or discord.18 According to Simon Swain this is a
consequence of the heavily contextualized and public nature of epigraphy.19 For Giovanni Salmeri it is
all rather a matter of length. Whatever the reason for it may be, the static image inscriptions evoke is
not very useful for a study concentrating on the citys internal structures of power. The advantage of
using literature is that it gives more information about the functioning of the political institutions and
about the cooperation between them. Literary sources are more likely to reflect or give indications for
conflicts in and between these political bodies.20

1.3

Methodology

Without a theoretical frame any study of the politics and literature of the Greek cities in the Roman
imperial period would only be a summary of some common sense statements. When studying ancient
society or ancient literature a scholar inevitably brings his own prejudices, presuppositions and
opinions to the table. We always use modern conceptions in our interpretation of ancient texts and
society. The choice we have is not whether we want to hold certain opinions and presuppositions or
not whether we like it or not, we have already answered certain questions and thus accepted certain
prejudices before we read the first word on the page. The choice we do have is whether we want to be
aware of these prejudices, whether we want to be able to consciously examine the arguments for and
against a certain position. Political and literary methodologies help us to be conscious of our modern
conceptions about literature and politics. Keeping our own conceptions and perspectives in mind we

16

O. Van Nijf, The Civic World of Professional Associations in the Roman East, Amsterdam, Gieben, 1997, p. 23.
R. MacMullen, The Epigraphic Habit in the Roman Empire, in: The American Journal of Philology, 103, (1982), 3, p. 244.
18
G. Salmeri, Reconstructing the political life and culture of the Greek cities of the Roman Empire, in: Van Nijf and Alston,
PCGC, pp. 200, 201.
19
S. Swain, Hellenism and Empire: language, classicism, and power in the Greek world AD 50-250, Oxford, Oxford University
Press, 1996, p. 71.
20
G. Salmeri, Reconstructing the political life and culture of the Greek cities of the Roman Empire, in: Van Nijf and Alston,
PCGC, p. 202.
17

can then turn to the sources for ancient society.21 The theories that will be described and explained in
this paragraph are influenced by notions on power that can be associated with postmodernism and
New Historicism. First I will introduce the specific perspective on politics I will be using. After this I
will describe my approach to ancient literature.

1.3.1

Power

Central to any study of politics is the concept of power. A first intuitive idea of power is something
like A has power over B to the extent that he can get B to do something that B would not otherwise
do.22 In a dmokratia this would ideally mean that the dmos as a whole could get some parts of it, for
example a group of elite citizens, to do things they would not have done otherwise. This is of course
only a first idea of how power works. I will be using a more elaborate idea of power that is sometimes
called the discourse paradigm. This is an approach that has been developed as a response to the
dominance of the so-called coercion paradigm and its definition of power. The coercion paradigm
sees power as basically deriving from physical force. The state is the primary locus of power, because
it has, as the sovereign authority, the monopoly on both the internal and the external use of force.
Power is held by the sovereign state and can be studied by looking at its constitution and its political
institutions.23 This perspective on power has inspired many studies that have contributed a great deal
to our understanding of ancient politics. In this thesis, however, I will not be taking a constitutional or
institutional approach. The coercion paradigm is too restrictive in its notion of power, because it sees
power as repressive of and exterior to people.24 According to Moses Finley this leads to falling into the
constitutional-law trap25 Michel Foucault in his History of Sexuality puts it this way It is this image
we must break free of, that is, of the theoretical privilege of law and sovereignty, if we wish to analyse
power within the concrete and historical framework of its operation. We must construct an analytics of
power that no longer takes law as a model and a code.26

The Discourse Paradigm


An analytics of power is essential for every study on political systems. This power exists in the sense
of potestas and in the sense of auctoritas.27 As Josiah Ober in his study on the Athenian democracy
said it: Power is not simple; a proper explanation of the demos kratos will have to embrace not only
the more obvious elements of the franchise and the reality and threat of physical force but also
authority and legitimacy, ideology and communication,...28 It is this notion of power that will be the
starting point for my approach to politics.

21

T.A. Schmitz, Modern Literary Theory and Ancient Texts: an introduction, Oxford, Blackwell Publishing, 2007, pp. 6-9. Citation
from p. 9.
22
R.A. Dahl, The Concept of Power, in: Behavioural Science, 2 (1957), 3, pp. 202, 203.
23
J. Ober, The Athenian Revolution; essays on ancient Greek democracy and political theory, Princeton, Princeton University Press,
1996, pp. 88, 89.
24
Ober, MEDA, p. 22.
25
M. I. Finley, Op. Cit., p. 56.
26
M. Foucault, The History of Sexuality. Vol. I: An Introduction, Translated by R. Hurley. Harmondsworth, Penguin, 1998. p. 90.
27
M.I. Finley, Op. Cit., p. 8.
28
Ober, MEDA, p. 19.

The discourse paradigm is based on Michel Foucaults view on power. Power is ubiquitous in all
human relationships, or in other words: power is everywhere.29 This means that power is not
centralized in a sovereign state, its constitution, or its institutions. Power is also productive, rather than
repressive, meaning that it is not a one-dimensional relationship of repression between the rulers and
the ruled. Central to Foucaults concept of power is discourse. Power is a complex matrix of
relations disseminated and indeed contested, through linguistic and symbolic relationships.30
Discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but also undermines and exposes it, renders
it fragile and makes it possible to thwart it.31
When the concept of power of the discourse paradigm is combined with the concept of political
ideology it becomes clear in what way it influences the daily practices of politics. According to the
Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, political ideology is a set of ideas, beliefs, values, and opinions,
exhibiting a recurring pattern, that competes deliberately as well as unintentionally over providing
plans of action for public policy making, in an attempt to justify, explain, contest, or change the social
and political arrangements and processes of a political community.32 There are various and
contradictory ways to interpret political ideology. I will follow a non-Marxist semantic approach. In
this view ideologies are inevitable as ubiquitous mapping devices of cultural symbols and political
concepts that constitute a crucial resource for understanding sociopolitical life and enable collective
choices to be made concerning the shaping of that life. The semantic perspective of this approach can
be made clear by the following example: the concept of liberty may be present in most ideologies, but
its meaning is determined from case to case by the proximate concepts that surround it, private
property or social welfare pulling it in different directions. In this way ideologies shape the
competition over the control of the correct and legitimate meanings of political words and ideas,
and by means of that control, over the high ground of politics.33
It is now clearer what power means in the discourse paradigm and what role discourse plays in it,
but can it also be used when studying antiquity? Josiah Ober makes use of the discourse paradigm
and the semantic approach to political ideology to study the Athenian democracy. 34 In his book Mass
and Elite in Democratic Athens Ober tried to find the key to the success of the Athenians in
maintaining a democratic political system over a long period of time. Ober argues that the explanation
for this success can be found in ideology. He therefore started to reconstruct ideology by studying
ancient texts and formal rhetoric in particular. At the end of his book Ober comes to the conclusion
that the mediating and integrative power of communication between citizens especially between
ordinary and elite citizens in language whose vocabulary consisted of symbols developed and
deployed in public arenas: the peoples courts, the Assembly, the theatre, and the agora was the real
key to the success of the Athenians. In the democratic polis of Athens the people held the power,
because they controlled the symbolic universe. Networks of symbols were created in the reciprocal
communication between mass and elite. The vocabulary used in the rhetorical speeches was rich in
topoi that helped the Athenians to create a stable political system. According to Ober it was

29

T.A. Schmitz, Op. Cit., p. 145.


T. Whitmarsh, Greek Literature and the Roman Empire, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2001, pp. 18, 19.
31
M. Foucault, Op. Cit., p. 101.
32
M. Freeden, Ideology: political aspects, in: Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, Elsevier, 2001, p. 7174.
33
M. Freeden, Art. Cit., pp. 7174-7177.
34
Ober, MEDA, passim. He later elaborated his theory in. The Athenian Revolution; essays on acnient Greek democracy and
political theory.
30

communication that assured the dmos of an ideological hegemony over those who were their social
and economic superiors.35
The emphasis on discourse and the idea that it not only transmits, but also produces power, is clear
in Obers work. He repeatedly argues that formal rhetoric consists of the symbolic communication that
can be used to reconstruct the ideology of the citizenry. According to Ober the Athenians had no need
for democratic theory, because its function was already fulfilled by democratic discourse. This
discourse was created by the invention of new words (e.g. Dmokratia, isonomia), transvaluation of
existing terms (isegoria, plethos), subversion and appropriation of the terminology and ideals of the
aristocrats (kalokagathia, arete), but above all by the elaboration of the vocabulary of rhetorical topoi
and images...36 Christian Meier even suggested that this democratic discourse was the result of a
Begriffsweltwandel, a transformation in the entire conceptional universe, only surpassed in
importance by the Enlightenment. Es gibt Epochen, in denen sich der gesamte Bestand der Begriffe
auf politisch-gesellschaftlichem Feld wandelt: Zentrale Begriffe werden neu gebildet. Wichtige
berkommene Begriffe verndern ihre Bedeutung grndlich oder geraten ins Abseits. Die gesamte
Begriffswelt wird unter neue Vorzeichen gestellt, gewinnt neue Funktionen und bleibt sich dann, bei
aller Vernderung im einzelnen, fr mehr oder weniger lange Zeit wieder gleich.37
In this thesis I will argue that the approach Ober takes, the essential role of power and ideology in
providing symbols for communication, and the study of language as a means to reconstruct this
ideology, can be used when studying the politics of the post-Classical poleis. The conclusions Ober
offers are plausible for fourth century Athens, but the democratic system of Athens was unique even in
its time and can certainly not be compared with the political systems of the Graeco-Roman polis.
There is no doubt that the ideological hegemony of the dmos, as Ober described it for Athens, was
extraordinary and the Greek cities in the Roman period did show a tendency towards hierarchy and
oligarchy. In this thesis, however, I will argue that this did not mean that there was no room for
democratic elements in the politics of the polis. The view of the polis in the Roman imperial period as
a society in which the dmos had lost all of its power relies heavily on the idea that power can be seen
as restricted and repressive. In this view power was located in the institution of the elite, the boul, and
lacked by the institution of the dmos, the ekklsia. Power is seen as a one-dimensional relation
between the elite and the dmos. And when the ekklsia or dmos is still mentioned in the terminology
of the polis this is explained away as mere rhetoric. However, when we accept the idea that power is
something that is everywhere and that it is productive rather than repressive these statements become
problematic. When we see power no longer as being possessed by some and lacked by others and we
accept the idea that power is not only transmitted through discourse, but is also produced by discourse,
it becomes possible for the dmos to play a role of importance in the post-Classical polis.
Again this is not to say that an institutional approach is worthless. After all the institutions of the
ekklsia, the boul and the dikastria (the popular courts) functioned as fora for the communication
between mass and elite.38 As we will see in chapter one it is often argued that these institutions
transformed or even disappeared after the Classical period. If this is true it would be very difficult to
see where the dmos would have been able to play a role of significance in the politics of the Graeco-

35

Ober, MEDA, pp. 35.


Ober, MEDA, pp. 35-42, 338, 339.
37
C. Meier, Die Entstehung des Politischen bei den Griechen, Frankfurt, Suhrkamp, 1980, pp. 275, 278.
38
Ober, MEDA, pp. 127-148.
36

Roman cities. It is therefore of the utmost importance to establish whether these institutions continued
to exist or not and to see if there were major changes in their functioning.

1.3.2

Literature

Discourse is an essential element in the construction of power relations and therefore an essential
element of studying politics. Ancient texts reflect the language that is used to construct the structures
of power and the relation between mass and elite. Compared to other sources ancient literature has also
other advantages. Ancient texts contain a lot of evidence; they can be read in modern editions of good
quality; they are often electronically searchable; most of them have decent translations and are
accompanied with commentaries and other interpretive media; and it is relatively easy to date them.
There are, of course, also serious problems that have to be faced when using ancient literature for
historical purposes. Historians handle these problems, according to Tim Whitmarsh, often without care
by ignoring a more literary perspective. One of the mistakes historians tend to make is taking all the
statements and narratives of ancient authors at face value which can cause naive and partial readings
of ancient texts. Whitmarsh sees historians also as vulnerable to the pitfall of focusing too much on
points of contact between the text and the contemporary world or even neglecting and explaining away
textual evidence that does not fit in the historians particular view on society. Whitmarsh is, however,
also harsh on literary students who fail to take the historical context of ancient literature into account
and only pay attention to aesthetic and formal aspects, such as allusion and narratology. Focusing too
much on a literary perspective can also bring with it a tendency to privilege an elite perspective and to
neglect realities. 39
According to Whitmarsh historians and scholars of literature have much to learn from each other.
Historians should take into account the issues of interpretation raised by literary texts and students of
literature should take the historical context of the literature they are examining into account. Scholars
should therefore try to combine knowledge about the historical context of ancient society and insights
that derive from modern literary theory. Whitmarsh calls this approach literary historicism.40 This
perspective is stimulated by postmodernism and the responses to some postmodern questions offered
by cultural history and New Historicism. In the following pages I will describe a few problems of
interpretation associated with ancient literature and in what way literary historicism combines
historical and literary knowledge. Issues of interpretation can be found on the three levels of
transmission, translation and meaning.

Transmission
The level of transmission deals with the fundamental problem of establishing a text and trying to find
the authors original words. Some of the difficulties associated with the level of transmission follow
from the fact that ancient texts were copied by hand. The texts that survived the centuries were copied
and recopied many times leaving many opportunities for errors. Besides this the people who copied

T. Whitmarsh, Ancient History Through Ancient Literature, in: A, Erskine (ed). A Companion to Ancient History. Blackwell
Publishing, 2009, pp. 77-86.
40
Ibidem.
39

10

these texts were Alexandrian, Byzantine and Baghdadi scribes who had their own criteria to determine
which texts they should copy. So it can be said that the surviving texts may well be unrepresentative of
the whole range of ancient literature. Although this should be kept in mind, these first issues with
transmission do not cause serious problems for the general understanding of a text.41
A second, and maybe more problematic, group of issues on the level of tranmission are raised by
the fact that many texts were originally designed for oral performance in public space. The polis
always remained a public-orientated community. This is why Aristotle described man as a political
animal or an animal of the polis.42 Contrary to contemporary literature, ancient texts were meant to
stimulate engagement, not contemplation. When transcribed into written form texts were altered in a
way which makes it hard to recover the oral and public context they were originally designed for.43
Although modern editions of ancient texts are maybe closer to the original than earlier copies, they
remain the products of the decisions of editors.44 Knowledge of the historical context, and more
specifically the public and rhetorical context, is therefore very important.
The strong relationship between literature and society is also stressed by certain developments in
literary theory. Romantic conceptions that see literature as the spontaneous outpourings of genius have
been challenged for some time now. The focus nowadays is more on the effects of texts in society than
on the origins of these texts. Roland Barthes calls this the shift from work, defined as the product of
an author, to text, the challenge to readers.45 Texts are no longer seen merely as reflections of history.
Texts actively participate by defining and popularizing certain perceptions of society. In this way
reality becomes a collection of perceptions of the world, instead of a static structure that can be seen
through the window of literature. Texts are not the evidence of society; they are the building-blocks of
society.46

Translation
The second issue with ancient literature is what Whitmarsh calls the translational challenge of an
alien cultural artifact. The translation of ancient literature is necessary, because it keeps the literature
alive by making it understandable to a modern reader. In doing so, however, a translation inevitably
introduces a certain distance from the ancient language itself. The Greek language causes some
additional problems. One of them is that there are many almost untranslatable abstractions in it that
only are understandable within their cultural context. More important for this thesis is that political
language is also hard to translate. This is why terms as basileus and polis are often left untranslated.
This avoids the misleading associations that modern translations cause, but can also, as stated above,
conceal the problem.47 So also on the level of translation context is extremely important to question our
modern interpretations of the cultural and political concepts of the Greeks.

T. Whitmarsh, Ancient History Through Ancient Literature, in: A, Erskine (ed). A Companion to Ancient History. Blackwell
Publishing, 2009, pp. 78-80.
42
Aristotle, Politics, 1253a.
43
T. Whitmarsh, Ancient Greek Literature, Cambridge, Polity Press, 2004, pp. 4, 5.
44
T. Whitmarsh, Art. Cit., p. 80.
45
R. Barthes, The Rustle of Language, transl. R. Howard, Berkley, University of California Press, pp. 56-65.
46
T. Whitmarsh, Ancient Greek Literature, Cambridge, Polity Press, 2004, p. 6.
47
T. Whitmarsh, Art. Cit., pp. 80, 81, 85. Citation from p. 85.
41

11

Meaning
Ancient literature is not only in need of a linguistic translation, it also needs to be culturally translated.
This consists of searching for the meaningof a text. Historians often use a rather out-dated form of
literary criticism in which texts are searched for signs that could indicate what the ideas and
motivations of the author had been. This approach is also known as the expressive-realist school and
can be defined as a combination of the Aristotelian view on art as mimsis, the imitation of reality, and
the Romantic idea that literature was the direct expression of the perceptions and emotions of a
person.48
Over the last decades this literary theory has been contested in various ways. Cultural products are
less searched for signs of the inner emotions of the author and more for different and conflicting
voices. According to reception theorists searching for the original meaning of a text is a waste of time.
There is no possibility of reaching a final interpretation. Reception theorists therefore analyse the
different interpretations of a text that add to the existing meanings of a text. Each interpretation of the
meaning of a text has more or less its own validity. Whitmarsh agrees that it is indeed hard to establish
anything in the interpretation of ancient texts beyond the banal and that our interpretations will always
have to be expressed in a language biased with modern cultural priorities. However, this does not
mean that we should stop using ancient literature for studying ancient societies. The correct response,
according to Whitmarsh, should be one of interpretative pluralism. This approach can be taken by
searching for the likely range of possible interpretations in a given historical context. 49 New
Historicism is the name mostly given to scholars who approach literature in this way. Central to the
approach is the historicity of texts and the textuality of history. 50 Literary texts are grounded in
political and socio-economic materiality, but are also active in the constitution of power and identity:51
The meaning of a text is never simple. Texts are written to provoke and to be debated over,
especially in a community that was as publicly orientated as the polis. This does not mean, however,
that each text can have an infinite range of meanings. The degree to which a text is open to multiple
interpretations differs from text to text. Poetry for example is more likely to contain different meanings
than forensic oratory;52 and the speeches from Dio Chrysostom contain more ambiguity than the more
philosophically orientated advices of Plutarch.
Applying this interpretative pluralism is not always easy. Especially in texts that deal with politics
there is much debate over the possible range of meanings. The reason for this is that ancient authors
rarely opposed the political system or the structures of power directly. However, the Greeks did
sometimes use figured speech as a rhetorical device that allowed the author to deliver two different
messages as one. In this way the author could please two different interpretative communities at the
same time. The literature of the Roman imperial period is often characterized as fond of using this
both-sidedness (to epamphoteron). The possible range of interpretations of the texts analysed in this
thesis should therefore include readings that are implicitly critical of the political system.53

48

C. Belsey, Critical Practice, London, Methuen, 1980, p. 11.


T. Whitmarsh, Art. Cit., pp. 81, 82.
50
L.A. Montrose, Professing the Renaissance: The Poetics and Politics of Culture, in: H.A. Veeser (ed.) The New Historicism,
New York, Routledge, 1989, p. 20.
51
T. Whitmarsh, Ancient Greek Literature, Cambridge, Polity Press, 2004, pp. 29-33.
52
Ibidem, p. 6.
53
T. Whitmarsh, Art. Cit., pp. 83-85.
49

12

In this thesis I will try to reconstruct the original reception contexts of my primary sources in order
to create a map of possible readings. By doing this it should be possible to avoid the mistakes
historians see literary students making and vica versa. In chapter one I will focus on the political
context of the Graeco-Roman polis. In chapter two the literary context will be examined and in
chapters three and four the direct historical context of the works of our three authors will we
described. In this way a historical frame will be created after which a more literary approach can be
adopted. During all this it should be kept in mind that: literary texts are cultural products, no more or
less than material artifacts; but they are also (often) designed to generate multiple interpretations, and
for that reason they cannot be reduced to the status of epiphenomena of a cultural system. 54

Literature and Power


Uptill now I have been silent on the biggest problem the use of ancient literature causes for this
inquiry into the democratic elements in the Graeco-Roman poleis. Ancient texts are always the
product of a select group of individuals often described with the acronym FAME (freeborn, adult,
male elites). Ancient literature is therefore biased in favour of elite perspectives. This is certainly
problematic for a study of the political system and the relations of power in society, because dominant
groups in society always try to present their power as stable and uncontested and tend to downplay the
voices that struggle against their dominance. As stated above this is, however, not how power works.
Power is not something that the elite possesses and the rest of the people lack. Power is a set of
relationships between unequal partners,55 or to cite Foucault once more: power is not something that
is is acquired, seized or shared, something that one holds on to or allows to slip away; power is
exercised from innumerable points, in the interplay of non-egalitarian and mobile relations.56
The focus in my analysis of the specific texts in part two is therefore on the dialogue between elite
writers and the dmos and on power as a set of unequal relations between dmos and elite. In this way
I hope to adjust the dominant view of the Greek cities in the Roman imperial period as strong
oligarchies in which the dmos lost all of its powers.

1.4

Structure

I have divided my thesis in two main parts. The first part is primarily meant as a status quaestionis of
the political and literary context of the poleis in the Roman period. It will introduce the debates in
modern scholarship that are most important to the subject of this thesis. The first chapter deals with the
political context of the polis and will give an overview of the dominant views on the evolution of the
political institutions. In this chapter I will describe the dominant view on the political systems of the
Graeco-Roman cities and the evidence that supports this view. Here I will also question parts of this

54

T. Whitmarsh, Art. Cit., pp. 85, 86. Citations from p. 86.


T. Whitmarsh, Ancient Greek Literature, Cambridge, Polity Press, 2004, p. 7.
56
M. Foucault, The History of Sexuality: An Introduction, New York: Vintage Books, 1990 (trans. Robert Hurley) p. 94.
55

13

view and discuss the possibility of an alternative view on politics in this period. The general focus will
always be on democracy and democratic elements. The second chapter is about the phenomenon of the
Second Sophistic, which is very important for the literary and cultural climate of the period, although
it also has consequences for the political context of the polis. In this chapter I will describe the
evolution of the debate on the Second Sophistic and how recent approaches influence how the
literature of the period is studied.
The purpose of part one as a whole is to contextualize the research that will be done in part two.
This is important for several reasons. Without an overview of the scholarship on the subject it would
be impossible to avoid making simple mistakes or doing research that has already been done by others.
It will also help to steer the analysis of part two in the most productive direction. In the conclusion I
will try to answer the research question by means of the information given in the first chapters and the
study of the literature in the second part.

14

Part 1

Chapter 1
The Decline of the Polis?

La cit grecque n'est pas morte Chrone, ni sous


Alexandre, ni dans le cours de toute l'poque hellnistique.
Louis Robert1

If we look at the polis from the perspective of world history our conclusion can only be that it was one
of the most successful forms of political organisation. The polis continued to be a primary locus for
politics for 1200 years. Of course there were significant changes during this long period and there has
been a lot of debate on the precise nature of these changes and their consequences. Onno van Nijf and
Richard Alston are right in saying that the final outcome the decline and fall of the ancient city is
perhaps clear, but that there is no general agreement about the pace and the route along which this
decline took place and that the level of disagreement is radical.2 In this chapter I will describe some
of the different views on the pace and route of this decline. Although there is indeed intense
discussion on the subject I will often speak of the theory of decline. The theory of decline is not a real
theory in the sense that it has been consciously developed as a heuristic device to help explain the
post-Classical society, but it has influenced the study of the post-Classical polis nevertheless. Before
going into more detail I will first argue what I mean by the theory of decline and why it is important
for this thesis.
For a long time the dominant view in historiography has been that changes in the fourth century
B.C. led to the failure of the Greek polis, followed by a steady degeneration of virtually every
political, social, cultural, and other facet of civic life in the Hellenistic and Roman periods.3 The
classical period was the golden age of the polis and the end of the classical period meant the beginning
of the degeneration of the polis. The decisive turning point for many scholars was in 338 B.C. at
Chaeronea when Phillip is said to have murdered the polis. For a time the only debate was whether
Philip had murdered a terminally ill patient, the polis as an evolutionary dead end and therefore

L. Robert, Thophane de Mytilne Constantinople, in: Comptes rendus de lAcadmie des inscriptions et belles-lettres, p. 42.
Van Nijf and Alston, PCGC, p. 4.
3
P. Harland, The Declining Polis? in: L.E. Vaage ed. Religious Rivalries in the Early Roman Empire and the Rise of Christianity.
Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2006, p. 22.
1
2

17

doomed to extinction,4 or someone who was still very much alive. The outcome, however, was clear.5
The theory of decline emphasises the degeneration of almost every aspect of civic life, especially those
aspects that had contributed most to the grandeur of the classical polis, such as literature, autonomy
and democracy. The cause for these different declining aspects is the same: the advent of large scale
politics and the incorporation of the Greek cities first in the Hellenistic kingdoms and later and more
thoroughly in the Roman Empire.
In more recent years the politics of the post-Classical polis has been revived as a subject for
historical research. Before these recent studies could be written their authors had to overcome an
important prejudice, namely that the dmos acquiesced in the dominance of the elite and the Roman
authorities. This prejudice is, according to Giovanni Salmeri caused by the stereotype image that is
reflected in the enormous number of inscriptions. Yet in contrast with the epigraphic material, ancient
texts often show that politics in the institutions of the polis, both boul and ekklsia, are still very
much alive.6
Over the last decades there has been a shift in scholarship on the consequences of Hellenistic rule
for the Greek cities. The validity of some essential parts of the decline theory has been increasingly
contested from the early nineties onwards. One of the first scholars who seriously challenged the
theory of decline was Louis Robert. Nowadays it has almost become a new orthodoxy that the poleis
did not die at Chaeronea.7 However, it can be said that Actium has replaced Chaeronea as the
beginning of the end.8 It is true that Roman rule differed from that of the Hellenistic kings, certainly
from the Imperial period onwards. In this thesis I will argue, however, that the polis was still very
much alive in the first two centuries A.D. and that it continued to be a primary locus for politics. The
Greek cities of the Roman imperial period can no longer be seen as secondary societies.
In the two paragraphs of this chapter I will describe the main features of the theory of decline. The
focus will be on the political aspects of the decline theory and not on its cultural aspects. The first
paragraph will be on the external politics of the polis and the impact of Roman rule. The second
paragraph is about the decline perspective on the internal politics of the polis and its consequences for
democracy. I will begin each paragraph with a summary of the decline perspective on the subject at
hand. After this more recent contributions and authors with a different perspective will be discussed.
Important passages in the primary sources, both epigraphic and literary material, are mentioned in the
text and if needed can be found in more detail in the appendix.

W.G. Runciman, Doomed to extinction. The polis as an evolutionary dead end, in: O. Murray and S. Price, eds., The Greek city
from Homer to Alexander, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1990, pp. 347-368.
5
Van Nijf and Alston, PCGC, pp. 5-8.
6
G. Salmeri, Reconstructing the political life and culture of the Greek cities of the Roman Empire, in: Van Nijf and Alston,
PCGC, pp. 197-202.
7
Van Nijf and Alston, PCGC, pp. 5-8.
8
A. Heller, La cit grecque dpoque impriale : vers une socit dordres ? in: Annales HSS, mars-avril 2009, p. 342.
4

18

1.1

Autonomy

One of the premises of the theory of decline is that autonomy was essential for civic life in the polis.
Without autonomy a city could not be called a real polis. From this perspective the quality of the civic
life of a certain city is regarded as directly connected to the autonomy of that city. So when large scale
politics began to dominate the region this caused a serious problem for the civic life of the Greek
cities. The political aspects of the polis life began to degenerate in the Hellenistic period and continued
to do so under the rule of the Romans. According to the theory of decline the loss of autonomy was
disastrous for local politics. In this view, autonomy in its strict sense is the essential ingredient
without which the polis becomes an empty shell, causing a corresponding decay in other dimensions
of civic life.9
There have been several objections against this view on autonomy and the polis. First, the question
must be answered if autonomy was as important to the cities as is assumed in the theory of decline.
Second, it is hard to answer the question when the autonomy of the poleis had disappeared, if it ever
did disappear totally before the third century A.D. In describing the different ways in which scholars
have answered these questions it will become clear that the politics of the Graeco-Roman polis can
still be considered a serious subject of investigation.
We begin with the first question. Was autonomy essential for the Greek city? One of the scholars
who has studied the ancient city excessively is Mogens Herman Hansen. In one of his articles he
opposes the tendency among historians to see autonomy as a defining characteristic of the polis.
According to Hansen in the orthodox view on the Greek cities the concepts of autonomia and polis are
wrongly connected. The Greek word autonomia means literally living under one's own laws, but the
Greeks used the word more in the sense of being independent than only self-governing. When we
accept this definition of autonomia the cities in the Roman imperial period could certainly not be
called autonomous. Hansen, however, points to the fact that in the sixth and fifth centuries B.C. many
poleis were dependencies and in the fourth century B.C. even most of them. The Greeks continued to
refer to these cities as poleis.10 So if the Greeks did not think of autonomia as a precondition for being
a polis and if autonomia could not be applied to all poleis even in the classical period, why should the
supposed loss of autonomy in the Hellenistic and Roman period necessarily lead to the disintegration
of the polis? For the larger poleis, such as Athens, Thebes and Sparta, the Hellenistic age did signify a
loss of power, but for many smaller poleis nothing much had changed. The smaller poleis may even
have benefitted from the fact that the Macedonians destroyed the supremacy of Thebes and Athens,
since they could no longer be the victims of the expansionist aggression of these larger poleis.11 It
would therefore be absurd to speak of the decline of the classical city according to the sole criterion of
international responsibilities.12
The second question, if and when autonomy disappeared, is even harder to answer. The
relationship between the cities and the Hellenistic kings has been described as being dominated by the

P. Harland, Art. Cit., p. 23.


M.H. Hansen, The Autonomous City-state. Ancient Fact or Modern Fiction in: Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis. M.H. Hansen
en K. Raaflaub eds. Historia-Einzelschriften 95, Stuttgart, Steiner, 1995, pp. 21-25, 43.
11
R. Strootman, Kings and Cities in the Hellenistic Age, in: Van Nijf and Alston, PCGC, p. 146.
12
M. Sartre, LOrient Romain: Provinces et socits provinciales en Mditerrane orientale dAuguste aux Svres (31 avant J.-C.
235 aprs J.-C.), Paris, Editions du Seuil, 1991, p. 121. Footnote 3.
10

19

latter. According to the theory of decline Hellenistic monarchs determined the fate and governed the
policies of the cities within their spheres. The political institutions of the cities therefore endured
only as hollow survivals. Although the discourse suggests otherwise the monarchs only posed as
advocates of liberty while keeping control and safeguarding their dominance. Seen from the
perspective of the theory of decline one could say that the poleis became the playthings of the great
powers. Eric S. Gruen disagrees with these conventional clichs, because they give a misleading
image of the nature of the relation between cities and kings. The many declarations in which
Hellenistic kings guaranteed autonomia, eleutheria and dmokratia cannot be explained away as mere
rhetoric or empty sloganeering. Seeing the subtle discourse between cities and kings as a faade is too
cynical. To prove his point Gruen refers to the occasion of the Isthmian Games of 196 B.C. in Corinth
on which the Roman general T. Quinctius Flaminus declared after beating Philip V in the Second
Macedonian war that the Greeks were to be free, subject to no tribute, and at liberty to govern
themselves according to their own ancestral laws. For the audience this discourse of autonomy was
very meaningful and their response was one of extreme joy.13 For Gruen this is a clear sign that these
declarations were more than just a faade.14 Moreover even if the declarations in which a polis was
guaranteed its autonomia, eleutheria and dmokratia and the freedom to govern themselves according
to ancestral laws can be seen as merely a faade, it remains true that these declarations were not
limited to the Hellenistic period. Such declarations were also made to the many cities in the classical
period that came to be in one way or another under the influence of the Persian and Athenian Empire
or the hegemony of the Spartans. It would therefore again be wrong to make too sharp a distinction
between classical and post-Classical cities.15
The relation between the cities and the Hellenistic kings was one of mutual benefits. The empires
of antiquity needed the cities as generators of surpluses for the many wars they fought. Besides that it
was extremely costly and time-consuming to besiege cities and success was never guaranteed. The
kings therefore preferred peaceful coalitions. Cities could gain protection from their enemies, grants of
autonomy and certain benefactions as trading privileges and exemptions from taxation. The Hellenistic
monarchs in turn gained the citys acknowledgment of their suzerainty, military aid and the pay of
tribute.16

1.1.1

The Impact of Roman Rule

When the Roman Republic conquered parts of the eastern Mediterranean the nature of their rule was
not very different. Polybius writing about the arche of the Romans did not mean the creation of
provinces and the subjection of the cities to tribute. He meant that everyone in practice must obey
Roman orders.17 The arche of the Romans was their right as military victors to decide whether or in

13

Pol. 18.46.5, 18.46.15; Livy 33..32.5, 33.33.5-7, 34.41.3, 39.37.10; Plut. Flam. 10.4, 12.2; App. Mac. 9.4.
E.S. Gruen, The Polis in the Hellenistic World, in: R.M. Rosen and J. Farrell eds. Nomodeiktes: Greek studies in honor of
Martin Ostwald, Michigan, Univeristy of Michigan Press, 1993, pp. 339-342.
15
Ibidem, pp. 339-342.
16
R. Strootman, Kings and Cities in the Hellenistic Age, in: Van Nijf and Alston, PCGC, pp. 142-146.
17
P.S. Derow, Polybius, Rome and the East, in: JRS 69 (1979), 1, p. 4.
14

20

what form a city or a kingdom might keep its independence.18 The Graeco-Roman poleis could
therefore hope to keep some form of independence. There was a whole range of privileged statuses or
favours the cities could acquire from the Romans. In what combination these rights normally existed is
difficult to tell, but we can distinguish the following most important grants. One of the possible rights
was libertas (freedom). This meant that the city was exempt from the jurisdiction, and the personal
visits, of the governor. Another right was immunitas, the exemption from taxation. A city could also
have the status of colonia, which automatically carried with it exemption from taxation, at least in the
early period of the Empire.19 An important factor for the status of a polis in the imperial period was the
role it had played in the civil wars prior to the formation of the principate. Although the poleis in the
Roman imperial period could not decide on big issues of peace and war, they were not necessarily
stripped of all of their powers.
Besides these formal grants there is another reason not to exaggerate the loss of autonomy. The
Roman authorities tended to avoid interfering in the affairs of the poleis. The Romans ruled their
empire in a rather passive and reactive way.20 This is not surprising taking into account the very low
number of Roman officials in the provinces. Both the province of Pontus and Bithynia (until the rule
of Marcus Aurelius) and the province of Asia were senatorial provinces and were therefore governed
by a senatorial governor. There was no large military force stationed in these provinces. In the
province of Asia there only was one proconsul, three legates and a quaestor. A small number
especially when contrasted with the large number of about 300 - 500 civic communities the province
of Asia contained.21 Garnsey and Saller therefore use the term government without bureaucracy in
describing the Empire. According to them the imperial rulings fell far short of a rash of general
enactments that drastically undermined the autonomy of local government institutions. The emperor
did not want a large bureaucracy or a systematical reorganisation of local governments.22
The province governor was in charge of defending his province and he judged the important
criminal and civil cases. When certain poleis had acquired the rights of libertas and immunitas they
could pretty much manage their own affairs. In order to do so they had, however, to avoid local
unrest.23 We can therefore conclude that the autonomy of the polis not totally disappeared. Certain
rights could be acquired by diplomacy to or from emperors. Besides that the polis kept on existing as a
political community whether it was truly autonomous or not.
According to P.J. Rhodes autonomy was in the Roman period very similar to autonomy under the
Hellenistic kings. Although the right kind of rgime sometimes was encouraged or required and
compliance with every command of the Romans had to be guaranteed, a city which did not provoke a
reaction of the authorities could pretty much govern itself. It is true that some inscriptions from the
principate suggest a position of greater subservience than in Hellenistic times. This portion of
evidence is, however, small in comparison to the rest that stays silent on the subject. For Rhodes the
conclusion must be that the Roman authorities could be, and sometimes were, involved in the internal

F. Millar, Polybius between Greece and Rome, in: F. Millar, H.M. Cotton and G.M. Rogers eds. Rome, the Greek World and the
East, Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 2002, III + p. 91.
19
F. Millar, The Greek City in the Roman Period, in: F. Millar, H.M. Cotton and G.M. Rogers eds. Rome, the Greek World and the
East, Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 2002, III + p. 113.
20
G.P. Burton, Proconsuls, Assizes and the Administration of Justice under the Empire, in: JRS 65 (1975), pp. 92106.
21
G.P. Burton, Provincial Procurators and the Public Provinces, in: Chiron 23, (1993), pp. 1328.
22
P. Garnsey and R. Saller, The Roman Empire : economy, society and culture, Berkely, University of California press, 1987, pp. 20
40. Citation from p. 38.
23
P.A. Brunt, Roman Imperial Themes. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990, pp. 116 17.
18

21

affairs of the Greek states, and that as time passed this involvement tended to occur more frequently
and to penetrate deeper, but that this process was haphazard rather than systematic, and the Greek
states were not regularly reduced to a pretence of deciding freely what was in fact ordered by the
Romans.24

24

P.J. Rhodes and D.M. Lewis, The Decrees of the Greek States, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1997, pp. 545-547. Citation from 547.

22

1.2

Dmokratia

A second and for this thesis more important part of the theory of decline concerns the internal politics
of the Greek cities of the Roman period. In the classical period democracy meant that every citizen
could participate actively in politics through voting and participating in the ekklsia. One of the central
hypotheses of the decline theory is that this was no longer the case for the post-Classical poleis.
According to the theory of decline the roles of the ekklsia and the dmos diminished in the Hellenistic
period and with the advent of the Roman era democracy finally disappeared altogether. The death of
democracy caused the detachment of most citizens, especially those who were less well to do, from
civic identity and pride. In short the loss of democracy destroyed the relation of most of the citizens
with their polis and this damaged the civic life in the post-classical polis severely.25
The aim of this paragraph is to critically re-evaluate the evidence for and against the claim that
popular participation in the politics of the polis had disappeared by the Roman imperial period. First I
will recapture the different arguments that have been made in support of the decline of democracy.
The general view stated above is worked out at length by A. H. M. Jones26 and G. E. M. de Ste. Croix27.
Both authors stress the fact that Greek democracy degenerated after the classical period and that this
was a gradual process that started in the Hellenistic age and was completed somewhere in the Roman
period. After this I will go into more detail and consider some more recent attributions to the debate.
Jones account starts with the bright future of Greek democracy that seems to lie ahead at the start
of the Hellenistic period. Alexander established democracies in every city he conquered or liberated
from the Persians, whether they were tyrannies or oligarchies. In this way democracy became the
normal constitution of the Greek cities throughout the east. The kings who came to rule parts of the
empire after Alexander had died mostly followed his policy towards the cities. When Antipater and
Cassander tried to install oligarchies they became so unpopular that their adversaries could exploit the
situation. Jones puts it this way: Whatever devices the kings might invent to secure their control over
their cities, there was one which they could not use, the formal limitation of political power to a small
class. In the Hellenistic age democracy was the normal constitution for a Greek city and when the
Greek city spread over the former Persian Empire democracy rode along.28
This, however, was only the formal constitutional situation as Jones repeatedly states. What seemed
to be the universal triumph of democracy was in the first place only theoretical. The principle of equal
political rights for citizens was probably in theory generally observed, but this did not mean that
democracy prevailed in actuality. According to Jones practice differed from theory; the ideal of
Greek democracy, that all should rule and be ruled in turn, was rarely realized and effective power

25

P. Harland, Art. Cit., pp. 21-28.


Jones, GCAJ, pp. 157 - 191, 270 - 276.
27
Ste. Croix, CSAGW, pp. 300 - 326, 518 - 537, 609 617.
28
Jones, GCAJ, p. 157-159. Citation from p. 157.
26

23

tended even in the Hellenistic age to be concentrated in the hands of the well to do. The Greeks,
however, did not want to use the hateful title of oligarchy and continued to use the word democracy. In
this way the term democracy became watered down. By the second century B.C. democracy had
ceased to be a living reality.29
De Ste. Croix is also pessimistic about the changes in Greek democracy. He speaks of the
destruction and extinction of democracy, and instead of development he prefers to use the word
retrogression. De Ste. Croix agrees with Jones that during the Hellenistic period political power
tended to become more and more concentrated in the hands of the few. In the Roman period this
retrogression accelerated so that the last remaining vestiges of democracy were gradually stamped out
of the Greek cities. It was in the third century A.D. that the last remnants of the original democratic
institutions of the Greek poleis had mostly ceased to exist for all practical purposes.30
Both authors thus emphasize the decline of democracy during the Hellenistic and Roman period,
although de Ste. Croix seems to delay its death a little longer. Altogether this period accounts for more
than 500 years. I find it therefore surprising that their conclusions focus so much on change and that
their overall tone is so pessimistic. Looking backwards with the benefit of hindsight knowing
democracy eventually ceased to exist can be an explanation for this negative view. For the political
situation in a specific city at a certain time, however, it can but be an oversimplified outline as de
Ste. Croix himself admits.31 Evidence that points to the continuance of democratic elements in postClassical politics is hereby reduced to exceptions that confirm the rule. If Greek democracy took so
long to disappear completely should we not give more attention to continuity instead of change?
Of course the constitutions of the Greek cities did not remain exactly the same over time. Although
their conclusions are at times too harsh Jones and de Ste. Croix collected many evidence on the
changes in democracy. I will therefore take their accounts as a starting point for an investigation into
the politics of the Graeco-Roman polis. The structure of this paragraph will follow the most important
political institutions of the polis. First I will describe the functioning of the magistrates, after this that
of the boul and finally that of the ekklsia.

1.2.1

Magistrates and Liturgies

In his book Politics Aristotle described how the officials of a democratic state were normally
appointed and how they functioned. First of all Aristotle states that officials were elected by all from
all and that this was by lot either for all magistrates or for those that did not need experience and skill.
This also means that there was not a property qualification for office, or only a very low one and that
officials were paid by the state. About the period a magistrate holds office Aristotle says that in a
democratic state there was a short tenure either of all offices or of as many as possible. Besides that no
office was held twice or more than a few times by the same person. Only the military offices could be
tenable for life. Finally Aristotle stresses the fact that in a democratic state the assembly was sovereign
over all matters. An official could not be sovereign over any matters, or only over extremely few.32

29

Jones, GCAJ, pp. 157 - 159, 170, 270. Citation from p. 270.
Ste. Croix, CSAGW, pp. 300, 306, 307. Citation from p. 300.
31
Ste. Croix, CSAGW, p. 307.
32
Aristot. Pol. 1317b, 18-38. And these principles having been laid down and this being the nature of democratic government, the
following institutions are democratic in character: election of officials by all from all; government of each by all, and of all by each
30

24

As we can read in Aristotles Politics the control over the magistrates and the limiting of its power
was an essential principle of Greek democracy. Different checks could be used to achieve this goal.
According to Jones these restrictions came under pressure in the Hellenistic period. In classical Athens
the most important magistrates were appointed by lot, but in the Hellenistic period magistrates were
generally appointed by election and some religious offices were hereditary. Besides that it was very
common for some offices to be sold by auction. In theory every citizen could still function as a
magistrate, but in practice the poorer citizens were excluded. This became increasingly the case when
magistrates were more and more expected to fulfil expensive liturgies. Although Jones admits that
many cities limited the terms of their magistracies even more than Athens, his overall conclusion
appears to be that the magistracies in the Hellenistic period were far less democratic than they had
been in classical Athens. This development culminated in Roman times when the part of the common
man came more and more to be to elect his betters to office.33
De Ste. Croix also stresses the attachment of special burdens to public offices as an important
factor in the decline of Greek democracy. In the Hellenistic and Roman period magistracies and
liturgies became to some extent assimilated. In assessing the importance of this new phenomenon for
the state of democracy de Ste. Croix looks to a passage in the Politics of Aristotle in which Aristotle
gives some advice to oligarchs.34
To the most important magistracies should be attached liturgies, in order that the common people
may be willing to acquiesce in their own exclusion from office and may sympathise with those
who have to pay so high a price for the privilege. Those who enter into office may also be
reasonably expected to offer magnificent sacrifices and to erect some building, so that the
common people, participating in the feasts and seeing their city embellished with offering and
buildings, may readily tolerate a continuance of this constitution [oligarchy]. The leading
citizens, too, will have visible memorials of their own expenditure. 35
Aristot. Pol.
1321a. 31-42.

As a consequence of his Marxist approach de Ste. Croix sees the assimilation of magistracies and the
performance of liturgies as a tool of the wealthy class to keep the poorer citizens out of office without
having to pass invidious legislation to that end.36 Whether the performance of liturgies by magistrates
was a development that was deliberately set into motion by the wealthy citizens in order to seize

in turn; election by lot either to all magistracies or to all that do not need experience and skill; no property-qualification for office, or
only a very low one; no office to be held twice, or more than a few times, by the same person, or few offices except the military
ones; short tenure either of all offices or of as many as possible; judicial functions to be exercised by all citizens, that is by persons
selected from all, and on all matters, or on most and the greatest and most important, for instance the audit of official accounts,
constitutional questions, private contracts; the assembly to be sovereign over all matters, but no official over any or only over
extremely few; or else a council to be sovereign over the most important matters (and a council is the most democratic of
magistracies in states where there is not a plentiful supply of pay for everybodyfor where there is, they deprive even this office of
its power, since the people draws all the trials to itself when it has plenty of pay, as has been said before in the treatise preceding this
one); also payment for public duties, preferably in all branches, assembly, law-courts, magistracies, or if not, for the magistracies,
the law-courts, council and sovereign assemblies, or for those magistracies which are bound to have common mess tables. Also
inasmuch as oligarchy is defined by birth, wealth and education, the popular qualifications are thought to be the opposite of these,
low birth, poverty, vulgarity. And in respect of the magistracies it is democratic to have none tenable for life, and if any life-office
has been left after an ancient revolution, at all events to deprive it of its power and to substitute election by lot for election by vote.
33
Jones, GCAJ, pp. 162, 270. Citation from p. 270.
34
Ste. Croix, CSAGW, pp. 305, 306.
35
Aristot. Pol. 1321a, 31-42.
36
Ste. Croix, CSAGW, p. 306.

25

control of city politics can be doubted. In practice, however, the effect could have been the same. In
sum it can be said that Jones and de Ste. Croix think that in theory or from an institutional perspective
not much had changed in the functioning of the magistrates, but that in practice it was in the hands of
the wealthier citizens.
The argument made by Jones and de Ste. Croix is clear. The attachment of expenses to the offices
of the cities made sure that they were monopolized by members of the elite. A scholar who recently
has done a lot of research on the changes of the polis in the Hellenistic and Roman period is
Friedemann Qua. According to Qua in the imperial period a certain service or payment had to be
fulfilled in order to take on office. Although the terminology differs the particular expenditure is
mostly represented as for the office, anti ts archs or huper ts archs. So the reason for the service
is the taking on of the office. Because the Greeks did not use a specific term for this the Latin term
summa honoraria is used by contemporary scholars. The summa honoraria could be fulfilled in
different ways. It was often a considerable amount of money. This money was put in funds that were
used mostly for public buildings or statues. It could also be the case that no sum of money was
required, but that the particular building costs had to be carried by the official. Qua also gives
examples of cases in which distributions of money or food could count as summa honoraria. Finally
an exceptional contribution to the polis or the performance of other public services could count as the
summa honoraria for a different office. It can therefore be said that the system was very flexible. The
origin of the summa honoraria is unknown, but Qua thinks it may well have been a further
consequence of the selling of offices that is already attested in Hellenistic times and that it was caused
by the need of money in the poleis. Qua assumes that in the imperial period this custom had become
an obligation. The magistrates of the Roman period could only have come from among the rich
citizens of the city. The conclusion of Qua is that the citys executive branch in the Roman period
had become an oligarchic institution.37 In this way the democratic principle described by Aristotle that
the officials should be elected from all became impossible to achieve in reality, but what about the
other principles?
The magistrates were elected by the assembly and although they were no longer elected from all we
can say that they were still elected by all. Qua, however, thinks this was not of particular value for the
democratic level of the Graeco-Roman polis. He argues that the community relied heavily on the
willingness of the citizens who were able to perform liturgies. The people had only one instrument to
get someone to volunteer, public pressure. The assembly could not choose from a number of
candidates, but had to rely on volunteers and could only confirm by vote after this had happened.
When a citizen had promised to take on a liturgic office the assembly could start to negotiate with the
volunteer on the nature and height of the summa honoraria, on which liturgies had to be performed
during the period of office and the time at which the period of office began. The conclusions could be
written down in a formal decree of the assembly. Although the magistrates were still elected by all the
power of the dmos should not be overestimated.38 H.W. Pleket agrees with this conclusion of Qua by
saying that the election of magistrates by the assembly was a formality, insofar as it confirmed a
probole made in and by the council, and a euphemism in case of expensive liturgic offices.39

Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 328-334.


Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 373-375.
39
H.W. Pleket, Political Culture and Political Practice in the Cities of Asia Minor in the Roman Empire, in: W. Schuller, Politische
Theorie und Praxis im Altertum, Darmstadt, Wiss. Buchges., 1998, p. 210.
37
38

26

In the Roman imperial period the offices would still rotate, but according to Qua it became
possible and even normal for officials to hold the same office more than once.40 His conclusion for the
functioning of the magistrates on the whole is that they became de facto the prerequisite of the richer
citizens. Yet Qua might just underestimate the role of the dmos too much. He leaves no room for the
possibility that the people could exercise some form of influence or power through their
communication with the richer citizens. H.L. Fernoux sees the election of officials by the assembly, as
is attested in Smyrna, Aphrodisias, Prusa and Ephesus, not as a formality, but as a sign of its
continuing importance. Fernoux even thinks that the assemblies of Prusa of Hypius, Ephesus and the
cities of the province of Cilicia also auditted their magistrates after their period of office.41 In chapter
four we will try to come to our own conclusions about the relation between the people and their
magistrates.

1.2.2

The Council

The council is an essential institution for a democracy. According to Aristotle a council instead of a
board containing a limited number of magistrates, the probouloi, is the most democratic of all the
magistracies in states that are not able to pay every citizen. When there is state pay for everyone the
people will draw all the power to the assembly leaving the council without much power. The function
of a council in a democracy is mostly probouleutic meaning that it has the duty of preparing measures
for the popular assembly, in order that it may be able to attend to its business.42 From the decrees
issued by the Greek cities in name of council and people, , we can see that
the practice of probouleusis was widespread, although not universal and different from city to city.43
An important argument in favour of the decline of democracy is that the balance of power between
boul and ekklsia shifted in favour of the former. There are two main arguments that support this
view. The first is that changes occurred in the formation of the council which made being a
councilmember an elite privilege. The second argument is that these changes lead to the taking over of
the political powers of the assembly by the council. In the following paragraph I will examine the
different arguments that lead to these two claims.

The Council as an Institution of the Elite


According to Jones the Romans under the Republic further assured the dominance of the upper class
by making the city councils permanent and therefore irresponsible bodies. In the Roman imperial
period the election of the magistrates and councillors passed gradually, in substance if not in legal

Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, p. 336.


H-L. Fernoux, Linstitution populaire dans les cits grecques dAsie mineure sous le Haut-Empire, in H. Duchne ed.,
Survivances et Mtamorphoses, Bourgogne, Equip dAccueil, 2005, p. 48.
42
Aristot. Pol., 1299b. 32-39. This is undemocratic, although a Council is a popular body, for there is bound to be some body of this
nature to have the duty of preparing measures for the popular assembly, in order that it may be able to attend to its business; but a
preparatory committee, if small, is oligarchical, and Preliminary Councillors must necessarily be few in number, so that they are an
oligarchical element. But where both of these magistracies exist, the Preliminary Councillors are in authority over the Councillors,
since a councillor is a democratic official, but a preliminary councillor is an oligarchic one. Also the power of the Council is
weakened in democracies of the sort in which the people in assembly deals with everything itself; Citation from 1299b. 32, 33.
43
P.J. Rhodes and D.M. Lewis, The Decrees of the Greek States, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1997, pp. 4, 475.
40
41

27

form, to the council. One of the powers of the assembly in the Hellenistic period had been that it could
elect the members of the council and magistrate. For Jones and de Ste. Croix it is clear that the council
took over the appointment of officials and councillors from the assembly, that it stopped being a
yearly changing democratic body and that it became an instrument of the elite.44
A more recent contribution that exhibits more or less the same view, at least for the institution of
the council, is F. Qua book on the rise of a Honoratiorenschicht in the cities of the Hellenistic and
Roman period. According to Qua the imperial period was a new phase in polis politics. Behind the
traditional terminology and formulas of the inscriptions lay an institutional reality that had changed
radically in comparison with the Hellenistic democracy. An important part of this was the
transformation of the council. In a democracy the council was the executive committee of the
assembly, everyone could become a member of the council for the period of one year only, and it had
an important probouleutic function. According to Qua the council in the imperial period changed
dramatically
The arguments Qua and de Ste. Croix bring forward to support this claim are based on very
scattered evidence. The most important evidence for the transformation of the council, at least for the
province of Bithynia and Pontus, comes from the lex Pompeia, which is known from the letters
between Pliny the Younger and the emperor Trajan.45 The Lex Pompeia was still in force in the early
second century, although with some small changes. From the letters between Trajan and Pliny it can
be concluded that the assembly did not elect the councillors anymore. This was done by special
officials the censores (or timtai in Greek). A person could only be elected by the timtai after having
served as a magistrate. As we have seen above, De Ste. Croix thought that only the rich were de facto
able to hold office. So the council must also have been the prerogative of the elite.46 The conclusion of
Qua regarding the evidence of the lex Pompeia is almost the same. From the passage in which Pliny
argues in favour of accepting the sons of councilmembers to the council (because this was always
better than allowing members of the plebs into the boul) it seems that when a city was short on
councilmembers plebeians could have been accepted. Qua, however, dismisses this evidence by
saying that this would soon cease to be the case.47
Qua moreover suggests that there was at least a tendency to require an entrance fee for the council
in the Bithynic cities. Evidence for this can be found, according to Qua, in the example of the
supernumerary councilmembers. The emperor had granted some cities in Bithynia and Pontus the
honour to enlarge their boul. Yet instead of being enrolled by the timtai the additional members of
the council were elected by the people. Although this was an exceptional case and one that indicated
the continuing importance of the assembly, Qua uses it to support his argument in favour of the
oligarchization of the council. In his letter to the emperor Pliny says that it was usual for these
additional council members to pay an honorary entrance fee. He asks the emperor if it should be
required of everyone who joined the council. Although Trajans answer was that this matter should be
left to the cities themselves, Qua sees the passage as a sign that there was a tendency towards the
payment of entrance fees for the councils of the Bithynic cities.48

44

Ste. Croix, CSAGW, p. 305.


Plin., 79, 80, 112-115. See Appendix I for whole text.
46
Ste. Croix, CSAGW, p. 305, 529 - 532.
47
Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 382, 383. Footnote 143.
48
Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 382, 383. Footnote 144.
45

28

Both De Ste. Croix and Qua argue that wealth became a prerequisite for council membership in
the province of Bithynia-Pontus. For Qua the council, as it appears in the lex provinciae for Bithynia
and Pontus, had apart from its name nothing in common anymore with a democratic institution. It was
no longer the executive committee of the ekklsia. It was an exclusive organ that was independent
from the assembly which made it possible for the council to oppose the assembly any time it wanted
to. Because of the fact that the council was composed of members of the elite it enjoyed a lot of
prestige and authority as an institution. Even if the role of the council had not changed formally, the
balance of power would have shifted in practice in favour of the council. After having argued that the
council in the province of Bithynia and Pontus was transformed in an oligarchic institution Qua tries
to do the same for the other provinces of the East.49
Qua begins with stating that the function of timts is also attested in a few cities in the province
of Asia, i.e. Cyzicus, Pergamum and Aphrodisias, and in the cities Ancyra (province of Galatia) and
Soloi (Cyprus). As we have seen above the timtai were normally officials who censored the council
instead of the assembly. Because he realizes that the evidence for the existence of timtai outside
Bithynia and Pontus is not abundant, Qua tries to find other indications to support his claim that the
members of the council in the other eastern provinces were not elected by the assembly any more.
He therefore refers to evidence that the same person could be a councilmember for more than once.
The iteration of offices is, according to Qua, an indication that the bouleutai were not elected any
more by the assembly each year, but that they were appointed for life. A final argument that Qua uses
to make his case is the increased prestige of councillors. There are different signs that the function of
councillor became a very prestigious one. In the imperial period people used the phrase citizen and
member of the council to refer to their status, which would indicate that being a council member was
a source for prestige additional to that of citizenship. Besides this, foreigners could not only be granted
citizenship as a reward, but also membership of the council, indicating its prestigious and its
permanent nature. According to Qua, the limited access to the council could have been the only
reason for the increase in the prestige of membership of the council. In this way the political and
institutional difference between polits and bouleuts came to be the same as the social difference
between bouleuts and demots, between the elite and the plebs and between the people as
Unterschicht and the councillors as Ratsherrenstand.50
Qua overall conclusion is therefore that the council of the imperial period was an oligarchic
institution which was only called boul, because the democratic meaning of the term had disappeared.
The lack of money for the payment of councilmembers was responsible for the permanent membership
of councilmembers and the transformation of the council. Qua emphasizes the change in the
composition of the council. For Qua the status of its members increased the status of the council as
an institution. The council therefore became the dominant institution of the polis even if it not took all
decisions itself, but in cooperation with the assembly. Examples of decrees enacted by the assembly
are explained away by Qua as the conformations of the will of the council. According to Qua the
transformation of the council led to the emergence of an elite body of government; a decisive step in
the development of the government of notables.51 For De Ste. Croix it is clear that the Assembly lost its
power to elect council members almost everywhere before the end of the second century. Evidence
that points to continuing elections by the assembly are merely examples of the ratification of a fait

Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 384, 385.


Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 386-392.
51
Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 393, 394.
49
50

29

accompli. In this way the assembly ceased to have any political importance by the middle of the
second century. It was dominated by the magistrates and the council without whose consent nothing
could be proposed.52

Challenges for the council


The conclusions of Qua and De Ste. Croix are contested on different points by other scholars. In this
paragraph a few of these objections will be discussed. Although the evidence to support it is not
waterproof, most scholars do not deny that the common people were more and more excluded from
the counil. Yet this does not necessarily meant that it became an instrument of the elite as a class and
that it dominated the assembly on every matter.
A first important argument is made by H.W. Pleket who has tried to nuance the above described
view on the boul. According to Pleket the constitution of the Graeco-Roman polis cannot be reduced
to the simple dichotomy between council and dmos. Both the council and the people cannot be seen
as homogenous groups. The council was not a monolithic block that represented the elite as a class.
The council itself, Pleket argues, was subject to a process of oligarchization. He uses the term internal
oligarchization or exclusivism to indicate that, whereas the council as a whole never became a caste,
in the top echelons a restricted group of elite families tried hard and probably to a lager extent (but
never completely) managed to monopolize the top echelons in the councils. This meant that there
were a number of leading families that had more power than the others in the council. The members of
the boul were as a group far more diverse than Qua wants to admit. The same is true for the dmos.
It cannot be said of the people of the Graeco-Roman city that they were all poor. Whats even more
important is that, according to Pleket, the gap between the dmos and the council was not really that
big. The difference between the poor bouleutai and the rich dmotai should not be overestimated.
The higher echelons of the dmos could probably also fulfil possible census criteria. To prove his
point Pleket refers to the letter from Hadrian to the city of Clazomenae in which he mentions both
primores viri and inferiores. Qua had suggested that the latter were admitted to the boul despite a
census criterium,53 but Pleket thinks that they were wealthy enough to fulfil the requirement, although
they were not as rich as those belonging to the leading families. The above described argument of
Pliny to allow young elites who had not taken up offices yet to join the council, because this was
always better than having to admit those e plebe and who were not poor,54 is according to Pleket
another indication that those who belonged to the top of the dmos could become bouleutai.55
Pleket links the interesting attestation of bouleutikai archai and dmotikai archai in Oenoanda to
his theory on the recruitment of councillors from among the relatively rich dmotai. The former could
only be taken on by bouleutai, while the latter were open to members of the dmos. Qua had
interpreted this phenomenon as a way to exclude the dmos from the important and prestigious offices
and a seat in the council.56 If this is indeed an indication of ordomaking, as Qua seems to interpret it,
it cannot be proven that it was widespread. There are only a few attestations all from the same region

52

Ste. Croix, CSAGW, Ste. Croix, CSAGW, p. 305, 529 - 532.


Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, p. 383. Footnote 143.
54
Plin., 10. 79.
55
H.W. Pleket, Art. Cit., pp. 205-209. Citation from p. 209.
56
Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 389, 390.
53

30

and also from the same period, i.e. the end of the 2nd century.57 Pleket, however, thinks that after
fulfilment of a demotic office one could become a member of the council. This would explain why it
could be said that there were also inferiores among the councilmembers, a phenomenon that Qua
attests, but fails to explain. In contrast with Qua, Pleket sees the gap between bouleutai and dmotai
as bridgeable. The top of the dmos was close to the lower echelons of the boul and from this top
homines novi were recruited. For Pleket the recruitment of these new councilmembers among the
upper parts of the people must have been connected to the heavy costs and expenses council
membership carried with it. Costly magistracies and embassies were fulfilled in turn in order to divide
the financial burden. It was therefore important for the councillors that there were enough people that
could bear expenses.
Another objection of Pleket against the view that the politics of the Graeco-Roman polis cannot be
reduced to the binary opposition between council and people is that there are also signs of discord
among the bouleutai. As has been already stated in the introduction the image we get from inscriptions
of the relationship between and within the different institutions of the polis tends to be an idealized
one. According to Pleket literary sources often confirm this faade, but they also give information
about discord between the political elite and the people and between factions within the elite. In part
two we will discuss a few of these passages in more detail. The conclusion of Pleket about the council
in the Roman period is that it was indeed the most important political institution, but that within the
council there was a group of the wealthiest families who mostly ran the show. These leading members
of the council had, however, to negotiate with the rest of the council and could be contested by other
leading members as part of the competition for status between them.58
It is in the context of the competition between the members of the elite sometimes even resulting in
serious strife, that some scholars still see a role for the dmos. Members of the elite with a certain
amount of rhetorical talent could try to find support in the assembly against their political opponents.59
A. Heller refers to the already mentioned election of the supernumerary councillors by the assembly in
Bithynia as a case in point. According to Heller there was a real competition over the extra seats in the
council and the assembly functioned as a judge in in the conflict between the candidates who all
wanted to obtain the support of the people. For Heller this is an indication that the assembly was not
just an instrument of the council, but that the assembly still continued in a way familiar to classical
democracy, examining and voting on candidates. She admits that this election was less democratic
than the classical drawing of lots, because it allowed the richer citizens to use their wealth to influence
the people. The example of the supernumerary councillors of Bithynia shows that the Graeco-Roman
polis was closer to oligarchy than classical Athens, but it also shows significant difference from
Roman practice by trusting the people to decide on an important public function. The lex provinciae of
Bithynia did not entirely exclude the possibility of popular elections, albeit in the margin.60
For the cities of Asia there was no comprehensive legislation that can be seen as an attempt to
reorganise the local institutions to the Roman model. The institutions of the cities in Asia could
change in different ways. These changes were not necessarily combined with each other, nor did they
occur everywhere. In his attempt to prove the oligarchic nature of the council Qua tends to over

A. Heller, La cit grecque dpoque impriale: vers une socit dordres?, in: Annales HSS, mars-avril 2009, p. 350.
H.W. Pleket, Art. Cit., pp. 204-210.
59
G. Salmeri, Reconstructing the political life and culture of the Greek cities of the Roman Empire, in: Van Nijf and Alston,
PCGC, p. 202.
60
A. Heller, La cit grecque dpoque impriale: vers une socit dordres?, in: Annales HSS, mars-avril 2009, pp. 347-349.
57
58

31

interpret certain testimonies.61 However, an indication of the fact that bouleutai were not recruited
from among the ordinary citizens does not necessarily mean that council membership was for life. And
an attestation of lifelong membership of the council does not necessarily infer the existence of censors.
As Qua already noted there are attestations of timtai for some cities, but evidence for this is scarce
and incomplete. The conclusion of Heller is that there simply was not one way in which all the
councils of Asia were formed. She argues that different institutional practices coexisted in the cities of
Asia. An indication for this can be found in the story of the Ephesian naval officer that was
recommended by Hadrian to become a member of the council of Ephesus. In it we see a combination
of possible political practices for the formation of the council. The emperor writes that he leaves the
dokimasia of the candidates for the council to the city, but if they approve of the naval officer that he
is willing to pay the entrance fee that is acquired for the election. On the one hand the examining of
the candidate points to an election of councillors, while the offer to pay the entrance fee points to a
census requirement and therefore appointment for life.
An interesting hypothesis for the formation of the council of Cyzicus in the Roman imperial period
comes from P. Hamon. He argues that the timtai were in charge of creating a pool of persons that
were designated bouleutai for life. From this pool each year a council was elected.62 According to
Heller two parallels indicate that Cyzicus could have been more than an exception. The first is an
inscription from Carystus in Euboea which can be dated to the reign of Hadrian.63 From the inscription
can be concluded that the prytaneis from the council of Carystus still rotated monthly and more
surprisingly that the council as a whole was appointed annually by lot. Because of the improbability of
a council that was open to every citizen in the Roman imperial period, Heller suggests that the
councillors that were elected by lot were first chosen by timtai just like in Cyzicus. This was
according to her also the case in Rhodes where there was a winter and summer council and there also
seems to have been state pay for the council and the assembly.64 For Heller it is indeed undeniably so
that the Council from the principate onwards was not democratic anymore in the sense that it was open
to the entire dmos, but it is also not true that it was as oligarchic as it is sometimes perceived to be.65

Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 388, 389.


P. Hamon, Le Conseil et la participation des citoyens: les mutations de la basse poque hellnistique, in. P. Frhlich and C.
Mller eds. Citoyennet et participation la basse poque hellnistique, Genve, Droz, 2005, pp. 141-143.
63
IG, XII, 9, 11.
64
Dio, Or. 31. 102. Furthermore, you will not claim that you have heavier expenses than had the men of those earlier times, since in
that period there were expenditures for every purpose for which they are made now for their national assemblies, sacred
processions, religious rites, fortifications, jury service, and for the council. .
. ,, , , , , .
65
A. Heller, La cit grecque dpoque impriale: vers une socit dordres?, in: Annales HSS, mars-avril 2009, pp. 349-352.
61
62

32

1.2.3

The Assembly

The popular assembly was the democratic institution par excellence. Even in the Roman period almost
every city had an ekklsia and formally it still had the final say in the decision-making process.66
Aristotle writes in his Politics that the assembly of a popular government was made up of all the
citizens of the state and that it was sovereign about war and peace and the formation and dissolution
of alliances, and about laws, and about sentences of death and exile and confiscation of property, and
about the audits of magistrates. Aristotle describes four different types of democracy in which this
was the case. In the first one all citizens serve as magistrates in rotation instead of in an assembly. The
assembly only convenes to vote on legislation and changes in the constitution. In other constitutions of
this first type the magistrates decide in small boards or joint assemblies. The magistrates are appointed
from the tribes or from the very smallest sections of the citizen-body in rotation until office has gone
through the whole body. The second type is an assembly of all citizens that elects and audits the
magistrates, enact laws and decides on peace and war. All the other matters are dealt with by the
magistrates who are elected by lot or vote from the whole dmos. The third type Aristotle
distinguishes is one in which the assembly convenes to elect and audit the magistracies and decide on
peace and war, but leaves all other matters to the magistrates. The fourth and final type is for an
assembly of all citizens that decides on all matters leaving the magistrates only the power of making
preliminary decisions.67 In order to make sure that all citizens were able to participate in the assembly
there had to be state pay.68
According to Aristotle there were different political practices that could be seen in democracies.
Some practices were more democratic or radical than others. Democratic assemblies could be seen to

66

P.J. Rhodes and D.M. Lewis, Op. Cit., p. 502.


Aristot. Pol. 1298a 3-30. Citation from 3-5. The deliberative factor is sovereign about war and peace and the formation and
dissolution of alliances, and about laws, and about sentences of death and exile and confiscation of property, and about the audits of
magistrates. And necessarily either all these decisions must be assigned to all the citizens, or all to some of them (for instance to
some one magistracy or to several), or different ones to different magistracies, or some of them to all the citizens and some to certain
persons. For all the citizens to be members of the deliberative body and to decide all these matters is a mark of a popular
government, for the common people seek for equality of this nature. But there are several modes of such universal membership. One
is for the citizens to serve in rotation and not all in a body (as is enacted in the constitution of the Milesian Telecles, and in other
constitutions also the boards of magistrates deliberate in joint assemblies but all the citizens enter into the magistracies from the
tribes or from the very smallest sections of the citizen-body in rotation until office has gone through the whole body), and for there
to be joint assemblies only to consider legislation and reforms of the constitution and to hear the reports submitted by the
magistrates. Another mode is for all to assemble in a body, but only for the purpose of electing magistrates, enacting laws,
considering the declaration of war and the conclusion of peace and holding the audit of magistrates, but for all other matters to be
considered by the magistrates appointed to deal with each respectively and elected by suffrage or by lot from all the citizens.
Another mode is for the citizens to meet about the magistracies and the audits and in order to deliberate about declaring war and
concluding an alliance, but for all other matters to be dealt with by the magistrates, elected by suffrage in as many cases as
circumstances allow, and such magistracies are all those which must of necessity be filled by experts. A fourth mode is for all to
meet in council about all matters, and for the magistracies to decide about nothing but only to make preliminary decisions; this is the
mode in which democracy in its last form is administered at the present daythe form of democracy which we pronounce to
correspond to dynastic oligarchy and to tyrannical monarchy. These modes then are all of them democratic.
68
Aristot. Pol. 1320a 17-20. 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
67

33

enact laws, to elect and audit magistrates and to decide on important issues. Aristotle, however, does
not combine all these possible functions into a description of the ideal democratic assembly. The
different practices mentioned by Aristotle will be used in his paragraph to examine the democratic
level of the Graeco-Roman polis. First we will examine the composition of the assembly. After this the
functioning of the assembly will be discussed.

Composition of and attendance to the ekklsia


In the accounts of Jones and de Ste. Croix the assembly is not discussed in detail. For de Ste. Croix it
is however clear that the rule of the Romans was a turning point in the history of the Greek popular
assemblies. Although we have little evidence for this, de Ste. Croix thinks that the Romans tended to
undermine the power of the assembly. They did this mostly by encouraging local elites, but they also
intervened in the constitutions of some cities. Another important imposition on the power of the
popular assemblies was the implication of property qualifications for citizenship in the second century
B.C. for mainland Greece and for Asia Minor a little later. According to de Ste. Croix it would be safe
to say that by the third century, even when decrees still use traditional formulaethe assembly of no
Greek city should be regarded as having played any greater part than merely assenting by acclamation
to decisions taken by the magistrates and/or council.69
H-L Fernoux and F. Qua are less pessimistic about the fortune of the assembly during the
Principate. They both think that the composition of the ekklsia is essential for its political power as an
institution. The total number of citizens that attended the assembly can be an indication of the
importance that was attached to the assembly as a political institution and to the decisions that were
being made there. In contrast with de Ste. Croix they think that is very likely that every citizen still
had the right to attend an assembly in the Roman period. De Ste. Croix assumption of a census
requirement for the assembly is based on a few unclear indications. One of these is a passage in the
second speech of Dio of Prusa before the assembly of Tarsus we will be seeing later on in more
detail.70 Another indication that the assembly might be closed off for certain parts of the population is
the attestation of assembly members (ekklsiastai) as a special group within the citizen body.71 In some
honorary inscriptions the population is shown to be divided in different hierarchic categories, such as
the boulutai, the ekklsiastai, and the politai. Why the distinction between the ekklsiastai and the
politai is made is unclear. In contrast with de Ste. Croix both Qua and Fernoux do not think that this
is can be seen as evidence that suggests that the ekklsia was no longer open to the whole dmos. The
criterion for the division is not necessarily a census. For Qua the solution might be that the criterion
for the division was age. Fernoux, however, thinks that it might have been something else. The
ekklsiastai could be those who actually attended the assembly regularly. The politai were the others
that did not have the opportunity, time or money to attend every assembly because there was no state
pay. This last group could have existed of the rural population, small merchants and craftsmen.72
Whatever the criterion may be the division between ekklsiastai and politai was not a widespread

69

Ste. Croix, CSAGW, p. 533.


Dio, Or. 34. 21-23.
71
IGR III 800. 801 for Sillyon; IGR III 409 and SEG 19, 835 for Pogla; IK Selge 17, 20 for Selge.
72
H-L. Fernoux, Linstitution populaire dans les cits grecques dAsie mineure sous le Haut-Empire, in H. Duchne ed.,
Survivances et Mtamorphoses, Bourgogne, Equip dAccueil, 2005, pp. 21-24.
70

34

phenomenon. There is moreover other evidence that indicates that the assembly of the Roman period
was still open to all the citizens.73
For the imperial period we do not have much evidence on the numbers of people attending the
assembly, but the size of the assembly places could shed some light on this issue. In the Greek cities
the theatre was normally the assembly place. Most theatres could contain a large number of citizens. In
the theatre of Ephesus, which was of course a fairly big city, for example approximately 23000 people
could assemble. Moreover when the Greeks referred to the assembly they often spoke of the
s, the assembly of the entire people.74 A final image of an assembly meeting of the Roman
period referred to by Qua comes from Dio Cassius, who condemns the assembly because nothing
good comes out of their deliberations and because the people in it always stir up a good deal of
turmoil.75 Concluding from this evidence Qua states that even in the beginning of the third century
A.D. the assembly was an institution that was still very much alive and that it cannot be said that the
assembly was threatened in its existence by apathetic citizens.76
Fernoux agrees with this conclusion of Qua. He uses a few passages from Cicero and the Acts of
the apostles as evidence for an active assembly.77 Cicero despises the Greek assemblies because they
are composed of cobblers and belt makers and their turbulent nature. In the Acts of the Apostles an
official (grammateus) of Ephesus had to calm down the craftsmen (technitai) who had gathered in a
spontaneous assembly. From the passage it is clear that the technitai would also be present at the
regular assembly ( ). Besides these literary sources Fernoux points to the
inscriptions mentioned already by Qua in which the whole dmos is said to be present at an assembly
meeting. According to Fernoux it is possible that all the politai were present only at these plenary
assembly meetings while a smaller group attended also the other meetings. The plenary meetings
might be rather special occasions with important matters on the agenda. Fernoux concludes from the
above that the situation must have been different from city to city, that it is possible that there is a
hierarchisation in some cities, but that in others there was a broad popular participation in the
assemblies (with two nuances, the urban population would be overrepresented in comparison with the
rural population and maybe the whole population would be assembled only on important meetings.
Seen from an institutional perspective the popular assembly is still very well alive. Its composition,
although hard to determine with precision, does not contradict its prestige a priori. Where there seems
to be a hierarchisation the prestige of the ekklsiastai would have even been enhanced, as can be seen
from the larger proportions in benefactions.78

Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 353-358.


IosPE I 40 for Olbia; IGR IV 791 for Apamea; IGR IV 642 for Acmonia; JHS 57 (1937) 4 B for Orcistus; cf. also TAM III 1, 3.
and TAM III, 1, 5.
for Termessus.
75
Cassius Dio, 52.30.2. The affairs of the other cities you should order in this fashion: In the first place, the populace should have no
authority in any matter, and should not be allowed to convene in any assembly at all; for nothing good would come out of their
deliberations and they would always be stirring up a good deal of turmoil. .
:
. ,
, .
76
Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 364, 365.
77
Cic., Pro Flacco, 17-19, 57.Acts XIX, 29-39.
78
H-L. Fernoux, Linstitution populaire dans les cits grecques dAsie mineure sous le Haut-Empire, in H. Duchne ed.,
Survivances et Mtamorphoses, Bourgogne, Equip dAccueil, 2005, pp. 21-31.
73
74

35

G.M. Rogers taking Ephesus as a case study comes to similar conclusions. Rogers uses an
inscription of the great foundation of C. Vibius Salutaris in A.D.79 to examine the composition of the
assembly. The description of the seating arrangements in the assembly in this inscription provides
evidence that the boul, or at the very least some members of it, attended the assembly. It also shows
that the other people in the assembly were divided by tribe. According to Rogers the presence of (parts
of) the boul in one of the largest and most important cities of Asia should lead us to re-examine the
long-lived myth of the apathetic and politically powerless demos of the imperial Greek polis, which
merely ratified the resolutions of the Boule. Rogers links the honorary inscription to the prescripts of
about 200 other inscriptions of Ephesus of decrees that are passed by the assembly and boul together,
. Some of these can be dated as late as the third century A.D.80 From this
Rogers concludes that the normal procedure for the enactment of a law was that the boul first
consulted on a certain matter in the bouluterion and then proposed their findings to the rest of the
dmos in the theatre where the final vote was taken.81

Council and Assembly working together?


Although there are many examples of inscriptions of the Graeco-Roman poleis still using traditional
formulae ( ),82 scholars disagree on the meaning of this. As we have
already seen de Ste. Croix regards these as mere rhetoric,83 while Rogers thinks that this points to the
continuing importance of the assembly. The conclusions of Pleket can be found somewhere in
between these two opinions. It is true, he says, that the ekklsia was not powerless, but its formal
constitutional power should also not be overestimated. The role of the assembly was reactive and at
best it ratified only what the council or magistrates had initiated. Pleket admits that the assembly was
composed of important civic groups which must have contributed to its importance and he concurs
with Qua and Fernoux that the citizens in the assembly were certainly not apathetic, but, according to
him, this does not detract from the fact that at best the demos added a few footnotes to or emended a
few passages in texts written by (members of) the bouleutic elite. The role of the assembly became
more and more a ritual one.84 In this paragraph we will examine the cooperation between the assembly
and the council.
Although Qua thought that the council had transformed into an instrument of the notables, he did
not think this led to a total exclusion of the assembly from the political decision-making process. The
important political decisions were seldom made by the council alone. There are many decrees issued
by the assembly on important matters, for example in the field of finance, on issues concerning public
land, and the granting of privileges. The vast bulk of decrees of the assembly that survived, because
they were published on stone, were honorary decrees. Many of these decrees were made by the council
and assembly together. The question remains, however, how this was done. Which institution was
dominant? For Qua it is clear that the council was the driving force behind the enactment of a decree.
It was the council that convened in order to take a proposal into account and make a specific and

79

IEph 27.
For a list of these 200 prescripts cf. G.M. Rogers, The Assembly of Imperial Ephesos in: ZPE, p. 225 f. 7.
81
G.M. Rogers, The Assembly of Imperial Ephesos in: ZPE, pp. 224-228. Citation from p. 228.
82
P.J. Rhodes and D.M. Lewis, The Decrees of the Greek States, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1997, p. 475.
83
Ste. Croix, CSAGW, p. 533.
84
H.W. Pleket, Art. Cit.. p. 210.
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36

detailed probouleumata. The assembly could either approve the decision of the council or it had to
reject the whole proposal at once. For Qua the council must have seen the formal confirmation of its
decisions by the assembly as necessary for its legal force, but this does not mean that the conformation
was more than just a formality. He thinks therefore that the reality behind the formal language of
cooperation must have been that the council assumed a leading role and made an independent
decision. The role of the assembly was secondary. It did not have the right of initiative and could only
give a formal confirmation or rejection.85
The same can be said of the cooperation between assembly and council on the appointment of the
magistrates. Officially the election of magistrates was a prerogative of the assembly, but for Qua this
does not meant that the council was not involved. The task of the council was to find candidates and to
present them to the assembly. This made it possible for the council to determine the decisions of the
assembly. As with the adoption of laws the assembly was left with nothing more than the choice to
either accept or decline the decision of the council. It is therefore clear that the power of the assembly
was limited severely. According to Qua the assembly normally accepted the decisions of the council,
although he admits that declining was more than only a theoretical possibility.86
There is, however, one problem for this view on the cooperation between the council and the
assembly. If the assembly can only be seen to affirm what was already decided by the council, why are
there still indications of debates going on in the assembly? The image of the turbulent Greek
assemblies we get from certain literary sources seems not to be the same as that of the subordinate
ekklsia. According to Qua the turmoil that was sometimes caused by assemblies was the result of
the growing tensions between the people and the council. These tensions were caused by the peoples
discontent with their political impotence. In order to safeguard their dominance in politics the notables
tried to avoid polarisation between dmos and council. They therefore did not want to offend the
assembly by confronting them with readymade decisions. Important matters had to be discussed in
front of the assembly. According to Qua, however, this did not mean that the notables were not in
control any more. Only a distinguished citizen deserved the opportunity to speak in an assembly. This
had to be someone who had used his wealth performing liturgies and benefactions for the wellbeing of
the city. These citizens all belonged to the group of notables. Ass a class the members of the elite
could bend the discussion in the assembly in a certain direction. In this way the notables ensured
themselves of their dominance by giving up only a little power. For Qua the only real opportunity for
the people to be decisive in political matters was when the council had been unable to come to a
consensus. Although in name sovereign, in practice the ekklsia had to settle for a minor role as it
could only decline or accept proposals and it had no right to speak.87

Institutional and extra-institutional powers of the dmos


Not every scholar is as convinced of the political impotence of the assembly as Qua. If the decline of
the ekklsia was as pronounced as is often claimed, the question arises why it was kept. For Fernoux
the existence of assemblies cannot be explained away by referring to the importance of tradition or the
canalisation of elite aspirations. According to Fernoux there were several domains in which the
assembly still made important decisions, such as the organisation of festivals and all sorts of

Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 394-398.


Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 399-401.
87
Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 402-404.
85
86

37

competitions and the construction of public buildings and other architectural projects. The assembly
also decided on certain religious and financial matters. As we have seen above Fernoux also thought
that the assembly of Smyrna, Aphrodisias, Prusa and Ephesus still elected the magistrates and that
those of Prusa of Hypius, Ephesus and the province of Cilicia also controlled them.88
In contrast with Fernoux, Qua argues that there was not much left for the people in politics. The
institutional weakness and the dependence of the people are very clear. The assembled people had to
see their performance as a mass as one of the few, and maybe the only, opportunity to formulate and
push through their political opinions. The dmos therefore counted on their greater numbers to be still
regarded as a force. The question is whether this gave them political weight or influence in the
decision-making process. The assembly was a forum for the political speeches of the elite, but it was
also a mass gathering with its specific characteristics. It did not accept the opinions of the speakers in
silence. By acclamation the people made clear with whom they agreed and with whom they disagreed.
Through acclamation the assembly could make up for its otherwise limited political participation. The
pressure of the masses in the assembly was a legitimate instrument to make known the opinion of the
people, but it could not get out of hand, because of the pressure of the Romans on the cities to keep
order.89
The image of popular unrest given by M. Sartre is slightly different. He emphasizes that fear of
popular disorder is a permanent and recurring feature in the discourse of rhetores, from the Acts of the
Apostles to the letters of Pliny the younger. Both the Roman authorities and the notables deeply
mistrusted the movements of the people. They therefore did everything they could to avoid provoking
the people. The pretexts for agitation were manifold. Besides the crises for food that were often violent
but short, there were other occasions on which the people were always easy to agitate. Some of the
most characteristic causes for popular unrest are preachers,90 mages, magicians or good speakers of all
kinds. Dio of Prusa describes a sphere of civil war for the Bithynic cities of Nicea, Nicomedea, Prusa
of Apamea and Tarsus of Cilicia. It is true that Dio probably exaggerated the sphere in these cities in
his speeches, but his descriptions must have been at least partially true. An often recurring theme in
the Roman imperial period was that of homonoia, concord. This was one of the most popular themes
in imperial speeches and inscriptions.91
Pleket also makes a clear distinction between constitutional and unconstitutional sources of power
for the assembly. Whereas the demos lacked formal power it could influence the elite in an
unconstitutional way. In the speeches of Dio of Prusa verbal quarrels between the council and the
people are attested, for example the conflict in Tarsus concerning the rights of the linen workers in the
ekklsia. Another and more common cause for public unrest the scarcity of grain led to a turbulent and
spontaneous assembly in Prusa. A demonstration of the silversmiths in Ephesus against the preaching
of the apostle Paul also lead to an ad hoc assembly of the people that could only be calmed down by
the assurance that the matter would be discussed on a regular assembly meeting or a conventus of the
Roman governor. Pleket refers to the theories of A. Cameron about left wing and right wing
stereotypes of popular behaviour. According to Pleket the right wing stereotype of the lazy, fickle,
capricious crowd which allows itself to be stirred by irresponsible demagogues is the less dangerous

88

H-L. Fernoux, Art. Cit., pp. 19-73.


Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 414-416.
90
Acts, 14:11, 13:44, 17:4, 18:4, 16:13 and 21, 14:1, 17:12 for the cities of . Lystra, Antiochi of Pisidi, Thessaloniki, Corinth,
Phillipes, Iconium and Beroia.
91
M. Sartre, Op. Cit., pp. 187-189.
89

38

stereotype of the two. It is only useful to remember that the dmos consisted mostly of people who did
have a job and had to work hard for a living. The left wing stereotype, however, should really be
avoided. This stereotype is more dangerous for the study of polis politics, because it assumes that the
dmos basically consisted of politically engaged people who were liable to depolitization by local
benefactors. This left wing perspective leads to an idealisation of the dmos and reads too much into
turbulent demonstrations. According to Pleket these demonstrations were more like a sort of prepolitical protests. As long as the system worked and the elites used their richness for the city the
people would acquiesce in their secondary role. Most of the time the dmos was satisfied with
applauding or booing the elite speakers in the assembly. For Pleket this is also the reason why the
assemblies continued to convene.
In the fourth chapter we will see more on homonoia, discord and the unconstitutional powers of the
assembly.

39

1.3

Conclusion

In this chapter I have described the concept of the theory of decline and I have tried to show that even
under the rule of the Romans the Greek cities still continued to be of political importance. Despite of
studies that have emphasized elements of change and decline there are strong signs of continuity in the
political institutions of the polis.92 Although the period over which democracy disappeared was almost
500 years the theory of decline keeps focusing on a process of degeneration of earlier forms of
democracy. In my opinion this is influenced by a linear perspective of the past in which change is
considerate to be cumulative and irreversible.93 This perspective also suggests a heavy reliance on the
benefit of hindsight in the argumentation of the decline theory. When assessing the political life of the
post-Classical polis more attention should be given to elements of continuity. Popular assemblies did
continue to be an important part of politics, despite the dominance of the elites.94
It cannot be denied that the institutions of the Graeco-Roman polis were different from those of
classical Athens. The magistrates and the council were de facto closed off for large parts of the
population. This does, however, not necessarily mean that the Greek cities of the Roman Empire had
to be oligarchies. The assembly continued to be an important institution and it cannot be said with
certainty that it was entirely dominated by the council. The negative evaluation of democracy in the
post-Classical period is caused in part by the answer to the question in what degree the postclassical
polis represents the degeneration of an earlier form of democracy. According to P. Harland many
scholars have an idealized vision of Athenian democracy, which is shaped by modern values and
does not accurately reflect the reality of the ancient situation. Even in classical Athens elite citizens
held the most important political positions. An assessment of the politics of the Graeco-Roman period
must therefore not be based on an exaggeration of the increase in influence of the elite citizens.95 The
real power of the people of classical Athens had been their ideological hegemony. This helped them to
have an influence over their economic and social superior fellow citizens.96 Later on we will see if the
dmos of the Graeco-Roman cities could still exercise power through their communication with the
elite, but for now it suffices to say that it cannot be said that either the polis or democracy died at
Actium, or under the rule of a Roman emperor, or in the course of the imperial period.

92

Van Nijf and Alston, PCGC, p. 9.


P. Burke, Western Historical Thinking in a Global Perspective 10 Theses, in: J. Rsen ed. Western Historical Thinking, New
York, Berghahn Books, 2002, pp. 17, 18.
94
P. Harland, Art. Cit., pp. 21-28.
95
Ibidem, p. 21-28.
96
Ober, MEDA, pp. 35
93

40

Chapter 2
The Second Sophistic

: the sheer sweat of exertion involved in projecting an


unamplified voice before a large outdoor audience, the
demands of managing the heavy folds of the cloak or toga,
the exhilarating risk of stumbles and solecisms lying in wait
for a moment's loss of nerve, the vibrant immediacy of a
collaborative audience, ready to explode with jeers or
applause. M.W. Gleason1

In this chapter I will describe the central aspects of the so-called Second Sophistic and give an
overview of the debates that the term has caused in modern scholarship. The Second Sophistic is an
important phenomenon for this thesis. It is essential for an understanding of the literary context of the
texts I will be using later on. As I stated in the introduction contextualization is very important in
discovering the possible range of meanings of a text. Moreover it is a very common statement in
textbooks that Dio Chrysostom, Plutarch or Flavius Philostratus belonged to the period known as the
Second Sophistic.2 In the following paragraphs I will try to make clear what this means.
A second reason why the Second Sophistic is an important phenomenon for this thesis is, because
its influence is not limited to literary aspects. Although the term the Second Sophistic is widely used
by historians and students of literature alike, its meaning has caused a lot of debate in modern
scholarship. There is a wide range of different and sometimes even contradictory perspectives on the
Second Sophistic. It has been characterized as a political phenomenon,3 as a literary phenomenon,4 and
as a cultural phenomenon.5 More recently the Second Sophistic has been studied from the perspectives
of identity6 and gender.7 It can therefore be said that the Second Sophistic was a complex phenomenon,
or rather a complex of phenomena.8 The different aspects of what is called the Second Sophistic are

M.W. Gleason, Making Men, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1995, p. xx.
G. Anderson, The Second Sophistic: a cultural phenomenon in the Roman Empire, London, Routledge, 1993, p. ix.
3
G.W. Bowersock, Greek sophists in the Roman Empire, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1969, passim.
4
B.P. Reardon, Courants littraires grecs des IIe et IIIe sicle aprs J.-C., Paris, 1971. Passim.
5
G. Anderson, Op. Cit., passim.
6
S. Goldhill, Being Greek under Rome, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2001, passim.
7
M.W. Gleason, Op. Cit., passim.
8
G. Anderson, Op. Cit., p. ix.
2

41

essential for the intellectual climate of the period. In the following pages I will describe the main
aspects of the Second Sophistic by giving an overview of the debates associated with it. Because of the
political scope of this thesis, I will tend to give more attention to the political aspects of the
phenomenon than would otherwise be justified. Before beginning with an assessment of the origins
and usefulness of the term the Second Sophistic, some things must be said first about scholarship on
the literature of the first centurys A.D. in general.

2.1

Second century literature: secondary literature?

The study of ancient literature has seen a similar development as that of politics in the post-Classical
polis. Until the second part of the twentieth century the dominant view on the literature of the first
centurys A.D. was that it was of poor quality in comparison with classical literature. Maud W.
Gleason and Tim Whitmarsh have recently argued to do away with the last remainings of what can be
called the theory of decline in literature. Gleason begins her book on the Second Sophistic by
describing what she calls the disease metaphor. In this view the literature of the second century is
sick and degenerated, because it was unoriginal, inauthentic and of poor literary quality in comparison
with what the giants of literature had produced in the classical period. Writers in the second century
just tried to copy and impersonate the classical authors and they were not even very good at it. The
rhetoric of the sophists was the summum of this bad archaising taste. Gleason is not very pleased with
this metaphor of disease and the effect it had on scholarship. According to Gleason modern
scholarship should not be concentrating on whether they like the literature of the time or not.
Moreover adopting a perspective of disease and degeneration is not a very scientific approach.
Scholars who study the literature of the Second Sophistic should learn to deal with the fact that
originality was not considered a virtue by the Greeks of the Roman imperial period.9
For Whitmarsh the tendency among scholars to describe the society and literature of Roman Greece
in negative terms is based in part on a wrong conception of mimesis, a complex term that covers both
artistic representation and imitation of predecessors. In the Roman imperial period it was very
common to impersonate and imitate persons from the Classical past. This did not mean, however, that
the Greek literature from the Roman period is essentially secondary and parasitic. Mimesis is a
more complex process. An imitation of a classical text or author is not simply a reproduction, it is also
a transformation.10
According to Whitmarsh the cause of what Gleason calls the metaphor of disease is the myth of
the primacy of Classical Greece. This is an invention of scholars that leads to the fact that all postClassical ancient societies are viewed (with whatever degree of affection) as secondary, non-original,
non-authentic. The phrase the Second Sophistic can be seen as an expression of this view. The words
second and sophistic both point at the supposed unoriginal and trivial nature of the literature. When

M.W. Gleason, Op. Cit., p. xvii-xix.


T. Whitmarsh, Greek literature and the Roman Empire:the politics of imitation, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2001, pp. 26, 27,
41-46.
10

42

the phrase is used to refer to the historical period the entire society of the period becomes unoriginal
and trivial. The myth of the primacy of Classical Greece is connected to the idea that art and freedom
are two sides of the same coin.11 B.A. Van Groningen states it this way: Real art, real literature as
well, cannot thrive unless in freedom. It is the achievement of independent, responsible minds. The
Greek literature of the second century is the work of a powerless community, which, on the other
hand, overstrains its faculties in unhealthy exaggerations. It is a neglected one in a neglected century,
and, generally speaking, it deserves this neglect.12
So also in the study of literature the idea of degeneration over time, from the classical period to the
post-Classical period, has been dominant for a while. In this chapter we will see that this view has
been rejected by most contemporary scholars.

2.2

The Concept of the Second Sophistic: origins and usefulness

The term the Second Sophistic comes from the work of Flavius Philostratus who used it in his book
Vitae Sophistarum, or The Lives of the Sophists from around 230 A.D.13 In this work Philostratus uses
the phrase to describe a literary style cultivated particularly, although not exclusively, in the Roman
imperial period. According to Philostratus there are two types of sophists. On the one hand there are
the practitioners of the so called first sophistic, for example the famous Gorgias and Critias, on the
other hand there are those who belong to the Second Sophistic. According to Philostratus the first
group of sophists concentrated mainly on subjects of philosophy, while the latter group was all about
declamations and taking the role of another, mostly historical, person.14
In modern scholarship, however, the Second Sophistic is conventionally used as a term for the
historical period between 50 and 250 A.D.15 or to refer to the entire literary culture of the Roman
imperial period. The difference between the meaning Philostratus gave to the phrase and the way in
which modern academics use it is not necessarily problematic. We should, however, stay aware of the
fact that the term the Second Sophistic is only a heuristic device that is constructed to enable the study
of ancient society. The danger of modern constructions, although they are inevitable and necessary, is
that they also steer research in certain directions and therefore ignore other parts of the past. So there
has to be good reason for using a phrase such as the Second Sophistic.16
The use of the term the second sophistic has been subject to criticism. According to Simon Goldhill
this criticism is partly justified. The first critique is that there is no indication in ancient literature,

11

T. Whitmarsh, Greek literature and the Roman Empire:the politics of imitation, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2001, pp. 28, 43,
44.
12
B.A. Van Groningen, General Literary Tendencies in the Second Century A.D, in: Mnemosyne: Fourth Series, 18 (1965), pp.
55, 56.
13
Philost., VS, 480-484.
14
T. Whitmarsh, The Second Sophistic, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2005, pp. 3, 4.
15
S. Swain, Hellenism and Empire: language, classicism, and power in the Greek world AD 50-250, Oxford, Oxford University
Press, 1996, p. 8.
16
T. Whitmarsh, Greek Literature and the Roman Empire, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2001, pp. 42, 43.

43

apart from Philostratus himself who coined the term at the very end of the period, that contemporaries
considered the different authors to be part of a homogenous group with a shared agenda. So it can be
said that the term the Second Sophistic forces a very diverse group of writers and literary products into
a single and therefore distorting category. The second reason for criticism is that the criteria for
inclusion are rather vague. Should someone be a philosopher to be included in the phenomenon or
should philosophers be excluded? Should someone be proud of the name sophist or should he reject it?
The last criterion of inclusion is the date of the period. All periodization is eventually artificial, but the
dates of the beginning and ending of the Second Sophistic are extremely difficult to justify and it is
even more difficult to discover when or if the first sophistic ever stopped.17 Why then is the term used
so often? There are also arguments that can be made in favour of using the term. One of them is that it
rightly stresses the importance of rhetorical training and the rewards of rhetorical success in the
Roman Empire. A second one is that it reflects the constant pull backwards to the glorious traditions of
classical Greece, the so-called first Sophistic, a return which is marked most strongly by the regular
use of a highly literate classical Greek through different genres. The last argument for the use of the
term the Second Sophistic is that it has a conventional recognisability. It can be a convenient starting
point for exploring the different aspects of society under the Empire.18
With these objections in mind it is possible to focus on the two essential elements of the Second
Sophistic: its preoccupation with the past and the importance of rhetorical display. Declamations or
rhetorical speeches can be divided into three main genres, using the terminology of Aristotle. These
three genres can be linked to the main political institutions in Classical Athens. The first genre was
that of the forensic speech (genus iudicale: Latin, genos dikanikon: Greek). Rhetorical speeches of
this kind were usually performed for the dikastria, the popular courts. The second genre was that of
the political speech (genus deliberativum: Latin, genos symbouleutikon: Greek), usually associated
with the ekklsia and boul. The final genre was that of the epideictic speech (genus
demonstrativum: Latin, genos epideiktikon: Greek). The purpose of this last genre was gratifying the
public and evoking admiration and respect.19
An especially popular subtype belonging to the genre of the epideictic speech was that of the
meletai, or exercises. In these speeches the sophists pretended to be a famous historical person, for
example a mythical figure or someone from the golden age of Athens. Instead of pretending to be
these famous figures the sophists could also choose to address their speech to them. There are two
types of meletai. The first type is that of the suasoriae, or persuasion-pieces, the second that of the
sasoria, or bilateral debates. The former were produced to convince, the latter were fictional forensic
speeches. Another subtype of epideictic speeches is that of the adoxographic works, modelled to the
encomium of Helen written by Gorgias, in which something trivial or worthless is praised. Finally
there were also a lot of quasi sophistic works. The works of Plutarch and Dio Chrysostom are counted
among these. 20 After this short familiarizing introduction we will now consider the different aspects of
the Second Sophistic in more detail.

17

G. Anderson, Op. Cit., pp. 17, 18.


S. Goldhill, Op. Cit., pp. 14, 15.
19
D. Praet, Stijlvol Overtuigen; geschiedenis en systeem van de antieke rhetorica, Didactica Classica Gandensia, 2001, Gent, p. 18.
20
T. Whitmarsh, The Second Sophistic, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2005, p. 20.
18

44

2.3

2.3.1

Debate

The Second Sophistic: A Literary Phenomenon?

One of the most important studies on the Second Sophistic was done by G.W. Bowersock. His work
revitalised the study of the Second Sophistic in historiography. In the nineteenth century there had
been a debate among German scholars whether the Second Sophistic had to be seen as an Asianizing
or an Atticizing phenomenon, or in other words whether the language used in rhetoric display was
modelled on classical Greek from Athens or on more contemporary Greek from Asia. The debate was
closed by Wilamowitz-Moellendorff who argued compellingly that the evidence for a rise in rhetoric
was too scarce to justify the notion of a Second Sophistic.21 In contrast with historiography the subject
of the Second Sophistic still generated some interest in the study of ancient literature. According to
Bowersock this was odd, because, although the literature of the sophists was generally speaking of low
quality the sophists themselves were historically very important figures. He therefore intended to
correct this situation and to renew the interest for the Second Sophistic in historiography with his book
Greek Sophists in the Roman Empire published in the late sixties. Bowersock sees the Second
Sophistic and especially the second century A.D. as a Greek renaissance. It is in this period, he argues,
that there was a strong relation between literature and politics. In this extraordinary period literary men
shaped the future of the Roman Empire and were highly respected. He therefore comes to the
conclusion that it could be argued without apology that the Second Sophistic has more importance in
Roman History than it has in Greek Literature.22 With such strong and explicit statements his book
stirred up new debates. B.P. Reardon was one of the scholars that disagreed with Bowersock. For
Reardon the Second Sophistic was still mostly a literary phenomenon.23

2.3.2

The Second Sophistic: A political phenomenon?

These opposing views are maybe too much artificially polarized,24 but they did stimulate studying the
Second Sophistic as a more complex phenomenon. E.L. Bowie points to the shortcomings of both of
these opposing views. He disagrees with Bowersock about the political importance of the sophists for
the Roman Empire. After assessing the role of sophists in embassies to the emperor, the senate and as
advisors of the emperor he concludes that some sophists were indeed influential. The reason for this,
however, was not their status and attributes as a sophist, but their status and attributes as a Greek
aristocrat. According to Bowie, Bowersock made a mistake in confusing the species, the sophists, for
the genus, the Greek aristocracy. It was the genus that was the determining factor in the success of
some of the sophists. The importance of the Second Sophistic for Roman history is not as obvious as

U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Asianismus und Atticismus, in Hermes: Zeitschrift fr klassische Philologie.


35, (1900), passim.
22
G.W. Bowersock, Op. Cit., pp. 1, 10, 43, 58.
23
B.P. Reardon, The Greek Renaissance in: W. Treadgold ed. Renaissances before the Renaissance : cultural revivals of late
antiquity and the Middle Ages, Stanford, Stanford University Press, 1984, p. 23.
24
G. Anderson, Op. Cit., p.11.
21

45

Bowersock thought it was. Moreover Bowersock is at times too negative in his judgement of Greek
literature in the Roman imperial period. Bowie ends his article therefore with a paraphrase of the
strong statement of Bowersock cited above: It might after all be that the Second Sophistic has more
importance in Greek literature, than in Roman history.25
Although Bowie did not think that the sophists were crucial for the course of Roman history, he did
see the Second Sophistic as more than just a literary phenomenon. As we have seen above
impersonating a figure from the classical past in rhetorical speeches and using classicizing language,
Atticism, were central aspects of the phenomenon of the Second Sophistic. Bowie sees these as part of
a broad tendency to archaism that affected different areas of cultural life in the second century A.D. He
therefore searched for a possible common cause for these archaising tendencies in society.26
The archaising tendency of the Second Sophistic is particularly clear in the rhetoric of the period
performed by the sophists. Rhetoric had always been a part of the education, paideia, of the Greek
elite, but by the second half of the first century A.D. rhetoric had become more than only a part of
education. Bowie admits that rhetoric could still be useful in a traditional sense, for example in
embassies from city to city or from a city to the emperor. Rhetoric could also still be used in the civic
life of the polis. Rhetorical ability was very important for the performance of ceremonial and festive
speeches. In politics rhetoric still played an important role in the debates that were held in the boul.
According to Bowie the ekklsia had lost all of its powers by the Roman period, but speeches still had
to be delivered to the citizen body, for example in cases of riot or famine. Yet for Bowie this more or
less traditional use of rhetoric, however, was not the most important aspect of the Second Sophistic.27
The most important aspect of rhetoric in the Second Sophistic was the widespread use and
popularity of performances with fictional themes. These fictional themes harked back constantly to
the classical period. The domination of fictional themes, so specific for the Second Sophistic, begins,
according to Bowie, with the shifting of political power from the poleis to the Hellenistic kingdoms.
The rise of fictional themes could be caused by the fact that elite citizens after the classical period
could no longer acquire power and immortality in speeches of persuasion to sovereign assemblies in
autonomous cities as their famous predecessors had done. In the post-Classical world elite citizens
found a substitute for this loss in fictional speeches. In this way they could still display their
intellectual superiority and experience the thrills of speaking before an audience.28
Bowie suggests that the archaising tendency in rhetoric and the linguistic archaism of the period
was part of a broader phenomenon, which was caused by political factors. The elite citizens of the
Graeco-Roman poleis were much more limited in their power in comparison with their ancestors in
Classical times (even though their position within their poleis was much more dominant, according to
Bowie, due to the disappearance of democracy). This was caused by the loss of autonomy and
sovereignty of the polis. At the end of the first century the imperial government started to interfere
increasingly in the internal matters of the cities and the competition and disputes between the cities.
Elite citizens were severely restricted in their actions by the constant fear of a possible Roman
intervention. The only weak point Bowie sees in his argument is that the autonomy and sovereignty of
the poleis had ceased to exist much earlier than the particular rise in archaising tendencies of the

E.L. Bowie, The Importance of Sophists, in: Yale Classical Studies, Later Greek Literature, Cambridge University Press, 27
1982, pp. 29, 53, 54. Citation from p. 54.
26
E.L. Bowie, The Greeks and their Past in the Second Sophistic, in: Past & Present, 46 (1970), 1, pp. 3, 4.
27
Ibidem, p. 6.
28
Ibidem, pp. 4-6.
25

46

Second Sophistic. According to Bowie this can be explained by the fact that in the earlier period the
Greek cities had always some hope left for the restoration of the city-state. It was only after the
devastations of the Mithridatic and Roman civil wars that this hope disappeared completely. At the
time that archaising tendencies became dominant the cities had, due to the Pax Romana, become
prosperous on an economic level again. Elite citizens sought to minimize the contrast between their
prosperity and the total dependence of their cities by re-enacting classical times and dwelling on past
political greatness. According to Bowie this explains the preoccupation of the Greeks with their past.
It was a reaction to their dissatisfaction with their contemporary political situation. This reaction could
sometimes seem to be a form of opposition from elite citizens against Rome, but on the whole the
absorption in the Greek past complemented their acquiescence in the politically defective Roman
present.29
As we have seen in chapter one some of the assumptions of Bowie can be seriously questioned.
Bowie himself points to some aspects of continuity in the political life of the polis in which elite
citizens could still make use of rhetorical speeches. These aspects are, according to Bowie,
overshadowed by the loss of autonomy and the growing intervention of the Romans. It is true that the
Romans did intervene at times and that the poleis were not as independent as they used to be, but local
affairs were mostly left to the local elites even in the Roman imperial period. Moreover as Bowie
admits himself the delay between the loss of independence and the rise of archaising tendencies is a
weak spot in his argumentation. This delay cannot be explained away as a consequence of some last
rests of hope of better times. Moreover it is at least paradoxal, if not contradictory, to see the fixation
of the elites with the past as caused by their feelings of impotence at a time when the Greek elites
actually became increasingly powerful.30 In the second century the Greeks enjoyed a significant rise in
economic prosperity and the Greek elites profited from new possibilities in the administration of the
Empire.31 It is therefore unlikely that the phenomenon of the Second Sophistic was caused by the
dissatisfaction of the Greeks with their political impotence.

2.3.3

The Second Sophistic: A cultural phenomenon?

The first recent general overview of the Second Sophistic is written by G. Anderson. In his work he
notes that the different perspectives on the Second Sophistic described above are very defensible, but
not easy to combine to get a single image on what the Second Sophistic really was. Both literary and
historical accounts give little attention to the specific cultural attitudes so typical for the period. He
wants to give a more comprehensive set of perspectives by describing the Second Sophistic as a
cultural phenomenon. 32
Anderson refuses to accept a purely political explanation for the Second Sophistic. The sophists
were part of an on-going tradition of rhetoric. In the Roman period, not unlike Hellenistic and
Classical times, rhetoric was still used in courts, assemblies or in communication with the ruler. A
political career was a good possibility for the rhetorical trained sophists. Anderson therefore disagrees

29

Ibidem, pp. 35-41. Citation from p. 41.


R. Syme, Roman Papers, E. Badian ed. Oxford, Oxford Clarendon Press, 1979, p. 576.
31
T. Schmitz, Bildung und Macht: zur sozialen und politischen Funktion der zweiten Sophistik in der griechischen Welt der
Kaiserzeit, Mnchen, Beck, 1997, pp. 24, 25.
32
G. Anderson, Op. Cit., pp. ix, x, 11.
30

47

with Bowies explanation for the archaising tendencies of the Second Sophistic. The assumption that
real political activity ceased with the arrival of the Romans is, according to Anderson, at least partially
untrue. Roman rule did certainly not mean the end of lively local politics or inter-city rivalries.
Many sophists were intensely involved in the affairs of their cities, although they could also opt out of
civic involvement.33
For Anderson the main impact of the Second Sophistic was cultural. The two most important and
constant characteristics of the sophist were: a determined Hellenism, thoroughly rooted in the
classical past, and a versatility which can easily border on ambiguity and equivocation. The first
characteristic meant that the phenomenon succeeded in keeping alive a sense of continuity with the
classical period and its literature. Andersons position on the consequences of this emphasis on the
classical past is ambivalent. On the one hand the literature of the period was not necessarily limited in
its creativity by this, but in practice the quality of the literature was not always good. The world of
the sophists, then, was not a curious and sterile cultural irrelevance. It could add to a living heritage
without necessarily being weighed down by it. But the whole business did run the constant risk of
being institutionalised: whatever can be taught runs the risk of being reduced to stereotype. And
sophists ran the risk of refining the tools of extempore rhetoric to the point where they could only
produce more extempore rhetores. The second characteristic of the sophists was their versatility. A
sophist had to maintain his position by skill. He had to prove himself in every speech he made.
Sophists could play with the enormous literary heritage of the classical period. According to Anderson
this made it possible for the skilled sophist to mock pretensions in a clever, witty and elegant way. A
less skilled sophist, however, would not come further than stereotypes and mannerism for its own
sake. The versatility of the sophists meant that they could be genuine artists, but also overindulgent
dabblers.34
The work of Anderson has contributed to our understanding of the Second Sophistic by pointing
out that its cultural aspects cannot be reduced to political epiphenomena. It also emphasizes the
ambiguity that surrounds many of the literary products of the period which should warn historians
against taking them at face value. Andersons book, however, fails to take into account the social and
political context of the period.

2.3.4

Towards a new perspective

Recent scholarship has studied the literature of the Second Sophistic from a new perspective.
According to Whitmarsh the lack of appreciation for second century Roman Greece is at least partially
caused by the fact that culture and power were traditionally seen as two opposed and autonomous
terrains. This can be seen in the debates about the question whether the Second Sophistic was more
important for Roman history or for Greek literature. These debates only reflect the problems of
modern academics and are based on a wrong conception of the relationship between culture and
power. Power is often associated with Rome and politics, while culture is associated with literature
and Greek identity. It is not a coincidence that the historical period of the Roman East is given the
name of a literary phenomenon, the Second Sophistic, while the historical period of the West is named

33
34

G. Anderson, Op. Cit., pp. 8, 25, 28, 236.


Ibidem, pp. 17, 236-245. Citation from pp. 244, 245.

48

the Principate or the Augustan age and not for example the Elegiac period. Whitmarsh wants to
break free from this perspective. He argues that ancient literature should not be considered outside the
circuits of power.35
Thomas Schmitz is one of the scholars who have studied the Second Sophistic from this new
perspective. According to Schmitz it cannot be said that the Second Sophistic was merely a literary or
an ivory tower phenomenon. For the members of the elite the performance of rhetorical speeches was
not just a hobby. The sophists performed for the masses, not for their private pleasures. The Second
Sophistic must therefore have had a social or political function. As we have seen the explanations of
Bowie and Bowersock are not really satisfying. According to Schmitz any attempt to explain the
phenomenon of the Second Sophistic should start from the assumption that the literary works of the
dominant class cannot be seen as separate from the structures of power. Moreover they must be seen
as having an important function in the establishment and operation of these structures of power.
Cultural phenomena, including rhetorical speeches, are neither determined by nor wholly autonomous
from the socio-historical reality. Schmitz speaks of strukturelle Parallelen between the different areas
of a society in which power is manifested, for example between rhetoric, education and literature.
Between these different fields there is no hierarchy. It is not that cultural power is the source of
political power or vice versa, although an increase in one of them would in many occasions mean an
increase in the other. The function of the symbolic capital that can be acquired by the above mentioned
cultural activities is the legitimization of the political power of the dominierenden Schichten.
According to Schmitz symbolic capital was not deliberately sought after by the members of the elite to
conceal their political power. The effect, however, would have been the same.36
An important aspect of the legitimization of political power was the concept of paideia. Gleason
and Schmitz have analysed this from the perspective of the theories of Pierre Bourdieu. Paideia is a
habitus in which the elite competed for social status. Cultural activities such as sports and sophistic
speeches had a political function in providing different fora for competition between the elites of the
cities in the Greek East.37 The central element in public display was that elites could present
themselves as holding paideia. In this way they could acquire social capital. It took a lot of time,
money and effort to become an eloquent speaker. In this way economic capital was conversed into
symbolic capital, which helped to disguise relations of dependence that have an economic basis under
a veil of moral relations. By showing that they were educated the notables could distinguish
themselves from the other members of the polis. In this way the gap between the educated and the
uneducated came to seem in no way arbitrary, but the result of a nearly biological superiority. 38 Both
Gleason and Whitmarsh reject the feeling of political impotence among the Greek elites as a sufficient
explanation for the popularity of rhetorical display and fictional themes. Cultural activities are also
involved in the structures of power.
This approach leaves room for power outside the traditional field of politics. It seems, however, not
to leave any room for power outside the class of the elite. According to Schmitz there is keinem
Zweifel, da die Oberschicht insgesamt alle politische Macht monopolisiert hatte, whrend die

35

T. Whitmarsh, Greek literature and the Roman Empire:the politics of imitation, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2001, pp.
preface, 43, 44.
36
T. Schmitz, Op. Cit., pp. 18-31.
37
T. Schmitz, Op. Cit., pp. 26-31.
38
M.W. Gleason, Op. Cit., pp. xx-xxv. Citation from p. xxi.

49

Unterschicht machtlos blieb. It is therefore not surprising that his view on the Graeco-Roman city
relies heavily on his acceptance of the conclusions of Qua Honoratiorenschicht.

50

2.4

Conclusion

As we have seen the Second Sophistic is more than just a literary or cultural phenomenon. The
approach we take to this phenomenon also influences our image of the society in which it flourished.
The Second Sophistic is characterized by the importance of rhetoric and its complex relation with the
classical past. The competitive nature of rhetoric and the ways in which it enabled elites to construct
their identity and acquire social and symbolic capital make that the Second Sophistic cannot be
explained sufficiently as a reaction to the advent of Rome and the incorporation of the poleis into the
Empire. We have seen that ancient literature and other cultural phenomena cannot be seen as standing
outside the power structures. This is, however, only one part of the approach to power I have described
in the introduction. Power is not only present and constructed in different fields of society; it is also
contested in these fields. Rhetorical speeches in which ability and education are shown can indeed
function as symbolic capital legitimizing power relations. As Ober has shown for classical Athens the
rhetoric of the elite can, however, also be influenced by the ideology of the people. Although the
literature of the Second Sophistic is written from the perspective of the elite, it should not only be
studied from the perspective of the elite. This claim is reinforced by the recent historical studies
indicating that the members of the elite were less dominant than was often assumed.

51

Part 2

53

Chapter 3
Dio, Plutarch and their Works

At the beginning of this thesis the primary sources have already been introduced shortly. In chapter
two the broader intellectual climate and the socio-political context of the literature of the first two
centuries A.D. have been described. This chapter will give further and more detailed information about
genre, context and the author of the literary texts under consideration and the consequences they may
have for their use in this investigation on popular elements in the Graeco-Roman poleis of the imperial
period. In this chapter the two authors and their texts will be discussed separately, while in the next
chapter several texts and authors will appear according to their usefulness for a certain topic. The first
author that will be discussed is Dio of Prusa.

3.1

Dio of Prusa

As I have already stated in the introduction I will not be using literary texts in order to find out whom
Dio of Prusa really was or what his real motivations and inner emotions might have been. The
approach that will be followed is that of interpretative pluralism instead of expressive realism.
Because of this approach, the specific scope of this thesis and the immensely diverse nature of his
texts, certain important discussions concerning Dio and his literary work will be passed over or only
considered shortly. These issues are for example the tension between the philosopher and the
politician or between the sophist and philosopher in Dio, the question of how much his thought was
influenced by stoic and cynic philosophy, what his relationship was with the emperors of his time,
when he went on exile and how this influenced his work, and so on. Yet in order to be able to combine
the literary theory and historical context, as stated in the introduction, I will here discuss some
important characteristics of Dio and his work.
In the introduction we have seen what Whitmarsh thought to be the most important pitfalls for the
study of ancient literature. One of them was neglecting historical realities and the privileging of an
elite perspective caused by focusing too much on literary aspects. This paragraph is meant to prevent
this mistake from happening. W. D. Barry stated in his article on the 32nd oration of Dio that in order

55

to understand it the most important thing was to keep in mind that its author was, by birth, wealth,
political power, and education, an aristocrat.1 From Dios speeches we learn that his family belonged
to the economic and political elite. His parents were Roman citizens (Or. 41.6) and his father was a
businessman with many local debtors (Or. 46.5). According to Dio his father was repeatedly honoured
by his fellow citizens (Or. 46.2) and to his mother a statue and a shrine were dedicated (Or. 44.3).
About his grandfather Dio tells us that he spent all his money on liturgies in Prusa and that he rebuilt
his wealth by teaching and through an imperial grant (Or. 46.3). Other members of his family were
honorary citizens in the city of Apamea (Or. 41.6). Dio himself was also an honorary citizen there and
in other cities (Or. 41.2). He was also member of the boul in Prusa and the koinon of the region.2 Dio
used his inherited wealth for the good of the city by performing many different liturgies (Or. 46.6). In
this way he claims to behave like the stereotype of the good rich man. Dio also seems to have had
good connections with the Romans. He had contact with the governor and claims to have known
several emperors. Only with Domitian he fell out of grace and had to go in exile (Or. 45.3-4).3
It can therefore be said that Dio was an aristocrat and even a member of the imperial elite. From his
wealth social and political privileges naturally followed. It is clear that as a member of the elite Dio
was very concerned with his social status. Although he might not have been the most typical aristocrat,
the speeches he made certainly reflect the perspective of someone from the elite. Dios thought can
therefore give some information about elite ideology and its ideas about the position of the people.
Dios speeches before the assembly are also a good example of the communication between mass and
elite. In studying these texts we can hopefully get a glimpse of popular ideology and the actual power
relations of the Graeco-Roman polis.
Dio was not only a member of the elite, but also a philosopher. In his orations held in the Bithynic
cities Dio projected himself mostly as a member of the elite and a citizen of the polis. Here he
participated actively in local politics, which meant that he was also part of the local enmities between
rivalling politicians. Outside the province of Bithynia and Pontus Dios role was often that of a
philosopher. In Alexandria and Tarsus Dio acted as a teacher, counsellor, criticizer and mediator. In
this role Dio was allowed to voice harsh critiques and to lecture his audience on moral issues. This
was made possible by the ideal relationship between the philosopher and the wider public. A
philosopher was normally invited by others to give his advice. In this way the people were assured of
the good will of the philosopher. The philosopher was seen as someone who only wanted the best for
the city and its people.4

3.1.1

Themes

So Dio was both an active politician and a philosopher at the same time. He travelled a lot and
everywhere he went he talked about socio-political subjects. His ethical message was one of cooperation and stability. This caused Dios active mediation between different groups, for example

W.D. Barry, Aristocrats, Orators and the Mob: Dio Chrysostom and the World of the Alexandrians, in: Historia 42 (1993), p.
84.
2
C.P. Jones, The Roman World of Dio Chrysostom, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1978, p 3.
3
W.D. Barry, Art. Cit., pp. 84, 85.
4
J. Hahn, Das Auftreten und Wirken von Philosophen im gesellschaftlichen und politischen Leben des Prinzipats, in: H.G.
Nesselrath ed. Der Philosoph und sein Bild, Tbingen, Mohr Siebeck, 2009, pp. 245-250.
1

56

between emperors and subjects (Orr. 1-4), between different cities (especially Or. 38), and for this
thesis most importantly between the elite and the dmos (Orr. 7, 31-51). It must, however, always be
kept in mind that Dio himself was also a politician who did not want to practice his principles at the
expense of power. In contrast with for example Plutarch, the emphasis of Dio in his socio-political
orations is on the community, not only in his speeches addressed to the public of the cities, but also in
his works on slavery, beauty (Or. 21) or glory (Or. 66).5
Dios message of concord is most dominantly present in his so-called concord speeches (Orr. 3841, and part of Or. 34). The emphasis on concord (homonoia, literally like-mindedness) is not a
theme that only appeared in the work of Dio. Homonoia was a very popular concept at the time, as can
be seen from inscriptions and coins, but also in the works of Aelius Aristides and Plutarch. Stressing
the importance of concord had always been a method to maintain the status quo, both between cities
and between the elite and the dmos within the cities. Speaking on concord is therefore not a
politically neutral, which tells us something about the political ideology of the speaker who uses it.6
Dio stressed the importance of homonoia not only in his hometown, but also in Alexandria, Nicea and
Tarsus. As we have seen already Dios speeches outside Prusa were also part of his image as a
philosopher. Salmeri, however, sees these visits also as politically motivated. The emphasis on
concord was caused by Dios concern with the position of the class to which he belonged, the elite. A
second motivation for Dio was Greek honour. Discord in and between the Greek cities would lead
eventually to an intervention of the Romans. In order to keep the little autonomy they still had the
cities had to live in concord with each other. These motivations might seem very conservative and
limited, according to Salmeri, there was, however, not much left to do for Greek orators of the Roman
imperial period.7
As we have seen in chapter one this last remark of Salmeri is rather too pessimistic, but it remains
true that concord within and between the cities was an important concept in Dios time. The amount of
evidence stressing concord as an essential aspect of civic life also indicates that discord could be
sometimes closer to the daily reality of a city. The internal discord of the cities of the Roman East is
particularly interesting for current purposes. Especially tensions between the assembly and the council
could undermine the orthodox image of the dominance of the elites and the powerlessness of the
people.

3.1.2

Genre

Most of Dios literary works are structured as a speech or dialogue. As we have seen in the first
chapter, according to Qua, nine of the eleven speeches of Dio in his hometown were addressed to the
assembly (Orr. 40, 42-48, 51) and only two to the council (Orr. 49, 50).8 Salmeri adds the
Borystheniticus (Or. 36) to this count making a total of ten speeches addressed to the assembly of
Prusa.9 Dio spoke not only before the assembly of his native city, but also before the assemblies of
Rhodes (Or. 31), Alexandria (Or. 32), Tarsus (Or. 34), Nicomedea (Or. 38) and Nicea (Or. 39). This

Swain, Dio Chrysostom, pp. 3, 4. Citation from p. 4.


S. Swain, Reception and Interpretation, in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom, p. 42.
7
G. Salmeri, Dio, Rome, and the Civic Life of Asia Minor, in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom, pp. 76-81.
8
F. Qua, Die Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 402, 403.
9
G. Salmeri, Dio, Rome, and the Civic Life of Asia Minor. in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom, p. 67. Footnote 68.
6

57

is already an indication that the assembly of the Roman period was still an active and important
institution. It is, however, extremely difficult to prove that Dios speeches were actually performed
before the assembly in reality. One could for example say that Dios use of dialogue and speech as the
form for his literary work was nothing more than a conventional case of a writer constructing an
audience for himself. Yet this does not take into account the fact that speeches and other forms of oral
communication were the most important mode of communication in the Greek cities of the second
century. Speaking to his fellow citizens was an important part and even a defining aspect of a member
of the elite.10 As we have seen in the previous chapter oratory was not only a primary source for status
and an instrument in the construction of identity, but also an important part of the civic life of the
poleis.
So the genre of Dios works is not problematic for assuming that his speeches were also really
delivered in front of the assembly. The language used by Dio, however, is a problem. The language of
Dios texts is Atticizing, meaning that it exhibited phonological, grammatical, and syntactic
structures that were no longer in existence in the contemporary Greek of the educated elite (let alone in
the language of less favoured classes).11 In his major work on Dio, Dione di Prusa; un Intelletuale
Greco nellimpero Romano, Paolo Desideri argued that the difference between Atticizing language
and contemporary language was not that big and that Dios speeches could therefore be seen as a
medium for the communication between the people and the elite.12 According to Swain Desideri
exaggerates the similarities between the classic and the post-classic language. Yet he also says that
sociolinguists nowadays no longer see a sharp separation between the language of the elite and the
lower echelons of society. Language is rather a continuum that is influenced by social factors and
education. Although Atticism was therefore much more a language of the elite; it does not necessarily
mean that members of the dmos could not understand it. Moreover, it is always possible that Dio in
his actual speech used a more modest language and changed this when writing it down. For Swain the
image of the communication between mass and elite of the second century is based on our view of
classicizing rhetoric. He refers to the two possible options given by Desideri.13 We can think of the
Atticizing language in orations either as an elite phenomenon caused by the political decline of the
polis, or as a daily aspect of political reality.14 By now it will be clear that we will accept this last
option as closer to the reality of the Graeco-Roman polis. Moreover Whitmarsh has emphasized the
fact that the different dialects of the second century cannot be reduced to the simple dichotomy
between Atticism and koin. Both Dio and Plutarch wrote in a dialect that was certainly more
linguistically ambitious than the common language, but not as Atticizing as the language used by
Lucian and Philostratus.15 The language of the works of our authors does not lead a priori to the
exclusion of the people as an audience.
A final objection against the claim that Dios speeches were actually made in front of an assembly
of ordinary people is the complex nature of his arguments. Swain is undeniably right in saying that the
texts of Dios mythical and historical stories often contain complex, allusive, and frequently ironic

10

Swain, Dio Chrysostom, p. 5.


S. Swain, Reception and Interpretation, in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom. p. 26.
12
P. Desideri, Dione di Prusa. Un intellettuale greco nellimpero romano, Messina-Forenze, Casa Editrice G. DAnna, 1978, pp.
524-536.
13
Ibidem, p. 526.
14
S. Swain, Reception and Interpretation, in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom, p. 39.
15
T. Whitmarsh, The Second Sophistic, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2005, p. 42.
11

58

sets of ideas. For Swain this would mean that an oration as for example the Trojan Oration could
only have been understood by other members of the elite who had enjoyed the same education as
Dio.16 This is indeed true, but most orations that will be discussed in this thesis are of a symbouleutic
and not of an epideictic nature. The purpose of a symbouleutic speech is to convince the audience to
do something, either by recommending a certain action (logos protreptikos) or by advising against it
(logos apotreptikos).17 In order to achieve this goal the audience had to be able to fully understand
what was said, which does not mean that complex or intellectually challenging arguments could not
have been made. Finally, if we are willing to take Dios word for it, we can see what he himself had to
say on this matter before the assembly of Tarsus.
5. Moreover, the messages of birds of omen require conjecture for their interpretation, whereas,
as soon as one has heard my message one can understand its meaning and can take it under
consideration, if in fact it clearly is something useful. 18
Dio, Or. 34. 5, 1-4.

3.2

Plutarch of Chaeronea

Plutarch was, just like Dio, by birth a member of the local elite. Not much is sure about his family, but
judging from the education Plutarch had enjoyed they were relatively rich. Plutarchs grandfather had
also been an educated man indicating that at least for some generations Plutarchs family had the time
and the money to receive an education. His father is said to be fond of hunting and horse breeding
which would point to the fact that his family owned some land. The little that is known about his
family is known because of the fame Plutarch himself was to achieve and not the other way around.19
Plutarch was not only a citizen of Chaeronea, but also from Rome, Athens and Delphi. He served as
priest at Delphi and he probably also held some offices in that city. Plutarch was also connected to
important people in Rome, especially to L. Mestrius Florus, who helped him get Roman citizenship.
Florus was a high placed person in the empire as can be concluded from the fact that he served as
proconsul of Asia.20
Although he was actively engaged in public affairs throughout his life, Plutarch thought of himself
as a philosopher. In his works he tries therefore to improve the morals of his contemporaries.21 In these
aspects Plutarch seems to have been not very different from his contemporary Dio of Prusa. His
literary works, however, are different from those of Dio.

S. Swain, Reception and Interpretation, in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom, pp. 39, 40.
D. Praet, Op. Cit., p. 91.
18
Dio, Or. 34. 5, 1-4. , ,
.
19
C.P. Jones, Plutarch and Rome, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1971, pp. 3-10.
20
P.A. Stadter, Plutarch: Diplomat for Delphi?, in: L. de Blois, J. Bons e.a. eds., The Statesman in Plutarchs Works: volume I:
Plutarchs stateman and his aftermath: political, philosophical, and literary aspects, Leiden, Brill, 2004, pp. 19-22.
21
S. Swain, Hellenism and Empire: language, classicism, and power in the Greek world AD 50-250, Oxford, Oxford University
Press, 1996, pp. 135, 136.
16
17

59

3.2.1

Plutarchs Works

The texts of Plutarch that will be examined are his Precepts of Statecraft and Whether an old man
should engage in public affairs. Plutarch lived in the same period as Dio, but his works are of a
different nature. Both works do not belong to the genre of formal rhetoric. They are political essays
dealing with the daily life of a politician. According to Swain these works are probably the most
valuable source for information on the viewpoint of Greek elites under the Roman Empire. Although
both the Precepts of Statecraft and the An seni are written as a response for advice by an individual
they were certainly meant to reach a wider audience. The Precepts of Statecraft is a reply to, a young
man called Menemachus, who wanted to become a politician, whereas his An Seni is addressed to
Euphanes, probably an older man who wanted to retire from politics. Both works describe how the
ideal statesman should behave.22 The perspective of Plutarch is clearly biased by his elite preferences
as can be seen from the fact that he advises at one point that it is sometimes better to conspire against
the people.23 The people are a recurring theme in these two texts of Plutarch. His work can therefore
give information both on the ideology of the elite and their view on the role of the people in the
Graeco-Roman city.

22

S. Swain, Hellenism and Empire: language, classicism, and power in the Greek world AD 50-250, Oxford, Oxford University
Press, 1996, pp. 162-165.
23
Plut., Praec., 813a-c. But since there is in every democracy a spirit of malice and fault-finding directed against men in public life,
and they suspect that many desirable measures, if there is no party opposition and no expression of dissent, are done by conspiracy,
and this subjects a man's associations and friends to calumny, statesmen ought not to let any real enmity or disagreement against
themselves subsist, as Onomademuse the popular leader of the Chians did when, after his victory in the factional strife, he refused to
have all his opponents banished from the city, "that we may not," he said, "begin to quarrel with our friends when we have altogether
got rid of our enemies." Now that was silly; but when the populace are suspicious about some important and salutary measure, the
statesmen when they come to the assembly ought not all to express the same opinion, as if by previous agreement, but two or three
of the friends should dissent and quietly speak on the other side, then change in their position as if they had been convinced; for in
this way they draw the people along with them, since they appear to be influenced only by the public advantage. In small matters,
however, which do not amount to much, it is not a bad thing to let one's friends really disagree, each following his own reasoning,
that in matters of the highest importance their agreement upon the best policy may not seem to be prearranged. :
, ,
, :
,
, . . : ,
, ,
,
,
; , ,

60

Chapter 4
Mass and Elite

In this final chapter the texts of Dio of Prusa and Plutarch of Chaeronea will be examined in order to
formulate an answer to the question whether there were still democratic elements in the GraecoRoman poleis. This chapter is divided into two parts. In the first part an institutional perspective will
be adopted. Here we will examine a few passages that can give us information on the functioning of
the institutions. Our focus will be on the role of the magistrates and the assembly in the politics of the
city. In the second part we will be focusing on the communication between mass and elite. We will
look at the rhetorical topoi and images that were used by Dio and Plutarch in their texts as a source of
information for the political ideology of the post-Classical polis.

4.1

The Institutional Perspective

In the first chapter we have seen that the level of disagreement among historians who have studied the
politics in the cities of the Roman East is radical. Recently the tendency in scholarship on the subject
is to leave room for possible elements of continuity. Yet much research remains to be done. In this
regard the texts of Dio and Plutarch can be of use. Neither Dio nor Plutarch wrote with the specific
goal of describing the political institutions of their time. We are therefore forced to combine passages
from different texts. Far reaching conclusions are to be avoided, because these passages are taken out
of their context. Taken together, however, these sections contain important information that challenges
the assumption that democracy had disappeared by the time of the Roman Empire. After this
investigation on the institutions of the cities in the works of Dio and Plutarch we can move on to a
more detailed study of some of Dios and Plutarchs works that are in my opinion most useful in
studying the communication between mass and elite.

61

4.1.1

The Magistrates

We have already seen that according to Aristotle the magistrates of popular governments were
appointed either by election or by lot. The more radical forms of government, for example classical
Athens, appointed their magistrates by lot, other democracies preferred to appoint them by election.
Aristotle also states that there was no property qualification or only a very low one and that officials
were often paid by the state. A final aspect of the functioning of the magistrates in a democracy was
their short period of office.24 As we have seen in the first chapter office holding in the post-Classical
polis became closely linked to the performance of liturgies. This development is often used as an
argument for the oligarchization of the post-Classical polis. It is undeniably true that this development
made appointment either by lot or by election from all the citizens of the city impossible. It does not
necessarily mean, however, that the appointment was not made by all anymore. In this first part of the
paragraph on the magistrates we will examine some passages from the works of Dio and Plutarch that
give information about office holding in the Graeco-Roman polis and compare them to the aspects of
office holding summarized by Aristotle. The focus will be on how the magistrates were elected and for
how long.

The Appointment of Officials


A first reference to the appointment of officials can be found in Dios first speech delivered before the
assembly in Prusa (Or. 46).25 At the end of his speech Dio makes a proposal (or seconds someone
elses proposal) for a solution to the problems connected with grain shortage that had caused a riot of
which Dio himself almost became the victim.26
Now while such conduct as yours would not be honourable or advantageous for yourselves, to
demand that there should be supervision of your market and that those men should be elected
who are financially able and have not performed liturgies, but if that cannot be, that then the
choice of supervisors should rest with you, this, I say, is the course of sensible human beings and
in this no one will oppose you.27
Dio, Or. 46. 14. 9-15.

From this passage it seems that the assembly had to elect (cheirotonein) the officials that were to
supervise the market (epimeleisthai ts agoras). In the proposal those who were financially able and

24

Aristot. Pol. 1317b, 18-26. And these principles having been laid down and this being the nature of democratic government, the
following institutions are democratic in character: election of officials by all from all; government of each by all, and of all by each
in turn; election by lot either to all magistracies or to all that do not need experience and skill; no property-qualification for office, or
only a very low one; no office to be held twice, or more than a few times, by the same person, or few offices except the military
ones; short tenure either of all offices or of as many as possible;
: , ,
, ,
,
,
25
As can be seen from the fact that Dio addresses his audience throughout his speech as andres and politai. Moreover his audience
consists of the same people who were involved in the riot.
26
G. Salmeri, Dio, Rome, and the Civic Life of Asia Minor, in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom, pp. 63, 64.
27
Dio, Or. 46. 14. 9-15. ,
, , ,
.

62

had not performed liturgies already were preferred, but the proposal also states that if this was not
possible the choice rested with the assembly. From this it seems that the assembly was relatively free
in their election of the officials of the market.
A first question that arises from this passage is why Dio prefers men who were financially able as
supervisors of the market. Most of the time the agoranomos was not required to take on have financial
burdens. The office was not particularly prestigious and was often seen as only a first step in the
political career of a young politician. In this case the reason for the requirement of wealth appears to
be that these supervisors were supposed to intervene in the market during the grain shortage.28 There
are many other attestations of agoranomoi buying grain on their own expenses and selling this or their
own grain at a cheaper price or even giving it away for free when a crisis situation occurred.29 In this
passage the traditional view on the connection between liturgies and offices is confirmed. What is
more interesting, however, is that when there is no one to be found who has not performed any
liturgies already the choice rests with the assembly. It seems therefore possible that at least in crises
situations the assembly could force a wealthy citizen to take up an expensive liturgy. How the
agoranomoi were appointed precisely is unclear, because Dios speech stops at the proposal for the
election of the supervisors of the market. We do not know therefore whether it was the case that the
council or other officials presented the possible candidates to the assembly or that the choice was left
to the assembly. What we can say with some certainty is that the final decision in the appointment of
these particular officials was still made in the assembly, and thus by all.
In his Precepts of Statecraft Plutarch gives his opinion on office holding.
813c-814c. Now the statesman is always by nature ruler of the State, like the leader bee in the
hive, and bearing this in mind he ought to keep public matters in his own hands; but offices
which are called "authoritative" and are elective he ought not to seek too eagerly or often, for
love of office is neither dignified nor popular; nor should he refuse them, if the people offer them
and call him to them in accordance with the law, but even if they be too small for a man of his
reputation, he should accept them and exercise them with zeal; for it is right that men who are
adorned with the highest offices should in turn adorn the lesser, and that statesmen should show
moderation, giving up and yielding some part of the weightier offices, such as the generalship at
Athens, the prytany at Rhodes, and the Boeotarchy here, and should add to the minor offices
dignity and grandeur, that we may not be despised in connexion with the latter, nor envied on
account of the former.30
Plut., Praec., 813c-814c.

Here Plutarch rejects the tendency to avoid the lower offices and to seek only after the more dignified
ones. In light of the competition for symbolic capital consisting of prestige and honour between the
members of the elite this tendency is far from surprising. Because of the desirability of the higher
offices for the members of the elite it is very important to know how they were appointed. According

28

T. Bekker-Nielsen, The Urban Life and local Politics in Roman Bithynia: the small world of Dion Chrysostomos, Aarhus, Aarhus
University Press, 2008, p. 75.
29
Qua, Honoratiorenschicht, pp. 260-264.
30
Plut., Praec., 813c-814c. ,
: ,
: , ,
,:' ,
,
, .

63

to Plutarch it is the people (tou dmou) who called certain persons to hold these authoritive and
elective offices ( ) in accordance with the law. So as with the lower
office of agoranomos the appointment is made through an election of the assembly. From this passage,
however, it becomes also clear that it could occur that someone refused to take on the office he was
called for. How widespread this tendency was is unclear, but because Plutarch thinks it is necessary to
argue against this habit it seems to have been more than just a theoretical possibility.
After having argued that even lower offices should not be turned down Plutarch continues his
advice on office holding.
816b. And deeming every public office to be something great and sacred, we must also pay the
highest honour to one who holds an office; but the honour of an office resides in concord and
friendship with one's colleagues much more than in crowns and a purple-bordered robe. But
those who consider that serving together in a campaign or in the school for young citizens is the
beginning of friendship, but regard joint service in the generalship or other office as the cause of
enmity, have failed to avoid one of the three evils; for either they regard their colleagues as their
equals and are themselves factious, or they envy them as their superiors, or despise them as their
inferiors. But a man ought to conciliate his superior, add prestige to his inferior, honour his
equal, and be affable and friendly to all, considering that they have been made
Friends, not of a festive board,
nor of tankard,
nor of firesides cheer,
but all alike by vote of the people, and that they bear goodwill toward one another as a heritage,
so to speak, from their fatherland. 31
Plut., Praec., 816b-c.

In this passage Plutarch argues that each office and the person who holds it should be respected. It
appears that this was not always the case in day-to-day politics. The discord between the notables in
their function as magistrates should prevent us from seeing the elite as a monolithic block against the
other parts of the dmos. The functioning of the magistrates might be more accurately described as
another forum for the competition between the members of the elite. The judge of this competition
would be the assembly. According to Plutarch the magistrates owed it to their fatherland to stay in
concord with each other. They are after all made all alike by vote of the people (
). A few lines ahead Plutarch considers it a service to the people sometimes to endure the evil
speech and anger of a man in office ( ).32
Again it is clear that Plutarch thinks that the wellbeing of the community is more important than the
honour of the individual. The community seems moreover to be the same as the dmos.
A next passage from the Precepts of Statecraft about the offices further challenges the traditional
view on the Greek cities in the Roman East.
816f-817a. Most people say and believe that it is the business of political teaching to cause men
to be good subjects; for, they say, the subject class is in every State larger than the ruling class;
and each official rules but a short time, whereas he is ruled all the time, if he is a citizen of a

Praec., 816b-c. ,
, :
.
, , ,
.
32
Plut., Praec., 817c.
31

64

democracy; so that it is a most excellent and useful thing to learn to obey those in authority, even
if they happen to be deficient in power and reputation. For it is absurd that in a tragedy the chief
actor, even though he is a Theodorus or a Polus, often makes his entrance after a hireling who
takes third-class parts and addresses in humble fashion, just because the latter wears the diadem
and sceptre, but that in real affairs and in government the rich and famous man belittles and
despises the official who is plebeian and poor, thereby using his own high standing to insult and
destroy that of the State, instead of enhancing it rather and adding to the office the esteem and
power derived from himself.33
Plut., Praec., 816f-817a.

Here Plutarch is still describing the proper behaviour towards the officials of the state. He makes use
in his argumentation of what he says is something that is said and believed by most people, namely
that obedience to those in authority is an excellent and useful thing. So far this argument seems to be
conservative rather than democratic, but Plutarch continues: for, they say, the subject class is in every
State larger than the ruling class; and each official rules but a short time, whereas he is ruled all the
time, if he is a citizen of a democracy. Although Plutarch seems to distance himself from this
statement and uses it as an argumentum ad populum, this is an indication that most people who were
actually living in the Greek cities of the Roman East still considered their form of government to be a
democratic one.
Yet what seems to be even more out of place in a passage on the offices of a Graeco-Roman polis
is that one ought to obey officials even if they happen to be deficient in power and reputation. This
does not necessarily mean that ordinary people could hold offices. It could also point to a perceived
inconsistence between the status of a person and the esteem of the office he is holding. From the
following lines it becomes clear, however, that it is the first possibility that is referred to. Comparing
office holding to acting in the theatre Plutarch criticizes the fact that whereas even in theatre first class
actors are willing to play the part of someone who is subordinate to others, in real affairs and in
government the rich and famous man belittles and despises the official who is plebeian and poor
( ), thereby using his own high standing to insult and destroy that of the State. If
we can take this passage at face value this would mean two things. The first is that there were officials
that were and second that they were seen as inferior by .
Although they disliked it the wealthier officials had colleagues that were of a lower class.
From these passages of Plutarch and the speech of Dio in Prusa we can conclude that the
magistrates were still elected by the assembly, but the role of the boul remains unclear. An indication
of the importance of the boul in the election of offices can be found in a speech Dio delivered before
the council of Prusa (Or. 49).
15 What, then, is the insuperable obstacle in the present instance? I think I deserve to be believed
in everything else whereof I speak for in my opinion I have never deceived you in anything,
nor have I in the past said one thing and meant another yet I have always had too many

Plut., Praec., 816f-817a. :


: ,
: ,
. ,
, ; :
; ,
,
.
33

65

engagements, and against my own inclination I have thus far been prevented from abandoning
them. And now it is no longer possible at all, practically speaking. For it is not to my interest,
and possibly not to yours either, that I should tarry here. Therefore I beg to decline my election.
For I feel sure that I should not have had to submit to investigation, but that, just as previously
you elected me unanimously by acclamation when you suspected I was willing to take office,
you would have done the same now too. However, I am not so minded; but while I know that in
order to hold office I should not have been obliged to call upon you, yet in order to be excused
from holding office I am not ashamed to be calling upon you. 34
Dio, Or. 49. 15.

In this speech Dio seems to be declining some kind of election () made by the council. Although
it is not mentioned in the text itself it is believed that this was for the important office of archon.
According to the Loeb translation the phrases and
are hard to translate. This could point to the nomination of possible candidates for a
certain office by the council. Later on the people had to choose from among these candidates the one
they preferred. Because of the decline of Dio for his election it cannot be said that the council was
clearly dominant in the appointment of offices. Individual candidates had to be willing to take up an
office and the assembly had the final say in the matter. Maybe the function of the council in the
appointment of magistrates was only a practical matter. It would after all be difficult for the assembly
to scrutinize the possible candidates for the offices.

The Duration of Office


Another important feature of office holding in democracies was the short period of offices. As we have
already seen above Plutarch says that most people think obedience is a useful ability, because each
official rules but a short time, whereas he is ruled all the time. 35 There are two speeches of Dio that
can give some additional information on the duration of offices. Both are held before an assembly of
citizens, one in Rhodes (Or. 31) the other in Tarsus (Or. 34). In his speech before the assembly in
Tarsus Dio says:
35 And some, in case they do accept office, seek therein only to engage in some enterprise out of
which they may emerge with added glory for themselves, making that their sole aim.
Accordingly for six months they are your 'men of valour,' frequently not to the advantage of the
city either. And so at one moment it is So-andso who makes the motions, and hard upon his
heels comes someone else in quick succession, and then a third; and he who but one brief month
ago was resplendent and claimed to be the only one who cared for the city cannot be seen even
coming to the assembly.36
Dio, Or. 34. 35.

Dio, Or. 49. 15. ;


, , ...
. .
. . ,
, , . , ,
, , .
35
Plut., Praec., 816f.
36
Dio, Or. 34. 35. , , ,
, . , .
, , :
,
34

66

In this passage Dio criticizes the magistrates because they commit only half-heartedly to public affairs
and only for the six months that is the period of their office, after which they cannot be seen even
coming to the assembly. Whether all offices had a limited period of six months is not certain, but here
it seems to be the rule. A little later on in the text it becomes clear that the important office of prytanis
was also limited to a period of six months.37 His criticism seems not to be directed at the short and
limited tenure of offices in Rhodes, because that was after all how the law prescribed it, but at the lack
of public mindedness expressed by the officials after their term of office had ended.
In his speech to the assembly of Rhodes Dio criticizes the fact that the people of Rhodes rededicate
their statues when honouring someone instead of erecting a new statue.
50. But certainly a common principle of justice is laid down in regard to them all, to the effect
that anything whatsoever which any one has received justly whether he happens to have got it
once for all or for a specified time, just as, for instance, he obtains public offices that is his
secure possession and nobody can deprive him of it. How, then, is it possible to have anything
more justly, than when a man who has proved himself good and worthy of gratitude receives
honour in return for many noble deeds? Or from whom could he receive it that has fuller
authority and is greater than the democracy of Rhodes and your city?
Dio, Or. 31. 50.

In his argument Dio compares receiving public offices to receiving honorary statues. The difference
between them is that public offices are given only for a specified time. The similarity of public
offices with honorary statues is based on the fact that they are both received justly. In the last line of
the passage Dio seems to be connecting this to the authority of the democracy of Rhodes and your
city ( ). If this is indeed what Dio is saying the
authority of the magistrates ultimately derives from their election by the dmos, which would mean
that not the magistrates of Rhodes, but its assembly was sovereign, just like Aristotle said should be
the case in a democratic state.38

4.1.2

The Assembly

We will now focus on the institutional power of the assembly. We will begin with some passages that
contain clues on the composition of and the attendance to the assembly. After this the formal powers
of the assembly in the Roman imperial period will be summarized as they appear in the texts of our
authors. In the second paragraph of this chapter we will then be able to study the communication
between mass and elite as can be seen from the relation between orator and assembly.
According to Aristotle a state was a democracy when all the citizens were part of the assembly
which was sovereign about war and peace and the formation and dissolution of alliances, and about

Dio, Or. 34. 36. However, while your president should regard his six months as the limit to his term of office for so the law
prescribes still the statesman should not, by heaven, observe any set term for the exercise of benevolence toward you and of care
and concern for the commonwealth and that too a term so brief nay, he should strip for action for that very purpose and hold
himself in readiness for service constantly. :
:
, , .
38
Aristot. Pol. 1317b. the assembly to be sovereign over all matters, but no official over any or only over extremely few;
,
37

67

laws, and about sentences of death and exile and confiscation of property, and about the audits of
magistrates.39 In the Roman period the Greek cities were no longer sovereign on peace and war, but
they could still enact their own laws. For our current purpose it is therefore important to know whether
the assembly still consisted of all the male citizens or not and if laws were still proposed to and voted
by them. We will first examine the composition of the assembly as can be derived from Dio and
Plutarch. After this we will see on which matters the assembly still voted.

Composition of the Assembly


A well-known and often debated case is that of the linen workers of Tarsus. The passage has been seen
as an indication of a census requirement for citizens and a clear indication of the disappearance of
democracy.40
21. For instance, to leave now the discord of Council and Assembly, of the Youth and the Elders,
there is a group of no small size which is, as it were, outside the constitution. And some are
accustomed to call them linen-workers, and at times the citizens are irritated by them and assert
that they are a useless rabble and responsible for the tumult and disorder in Tarsus, while at other
times they regard them as part of the city and hold the opposite opinion of them. Well, if you
believe them to be detrimental to you and instigators of insurrection and confusion, you should
expel them altogether and not admit them to your popular assemblies; but if on the other hand
you regard them as being in some measure citizens, not only because they are resident in Tarsus,
but also because in most instances they were born here and know no other city, then surely it is
not fitting to disfranchise them or to cut them off from association with you.
22 But as it is, they necessarily stand aloof in sentiment from the common interest, reviled as
they are and viewed as outsiders. But there is nothing more harmful to a city than such
conditions, nothing more conducive to strife and disagreement. Take for example the human
body: the bulk that comes with the passing years, if it is in keeping with the rest of the person
and natural to it, produces well-being and a desirable stature, but otherwise it is a cause stature,
but otherwise it is a cause of disease and death.
23 "Well then, what do you bid us do?" I bid you enroll them all as citizens yes, I do and
just as deserving as yourselves, and not to reproach them or cast them off, but rather to regard
them as members of your body politic, as in fact they are. For it cannot be that by the mere
payment of five hundred drachmas a man can come to love you and immediately be found
worthy of citizenship; and, at the same time, that a man who through poverty or through the
decision of some keeper-oftherolls has failed to get the rating of a citizen although not only
he himself had been born in Tarsus, but also his father and his forefathers as well is therefore
incapable of affection for the city or of considering it to be his fatherland; it cannot be that, if a
man is a linen-worker, he is inferior to his neighbour and deserves to have his occupation cast in
his teeth and to be reviled for it, whereas, if he is a dyer or a cobbler or a carpenter, it is
unbecoming to make those occupations a reproach.41
Dio, Or. 34. 21-23.

39

Aristot. Pol. 4.1298a 3-5.


Jones, GCAJ, p. 174 and C.P. Jones, The Roman World of Dio Chrysostom, Cambridge Mass., Harvard University Press, 1978, pp.
80, 81.
41
Dio, Or. 34. 21-23. ,
: :
, .
40

68

More recently most scholars have come to a very different conclusion after a close reading of these
lines.42 The five hundred drachmas that are mentioned are not to be paid by the citizens of Tarsus, but
by rich outsiders who wanted to become a citizen in Tarsus. The linen workers were apparently not
enrolled as citizens and were therefore excluded from the assembly. Dios advice to enrol the linen
workers as citizens rests in part on his claim that it was ridiculous to let rich outsiders pay their way
into the assembly, while the linen workers who were born in Tarsus were excluded from it. There is
therefore no indication in the works of Dio and Plutarch that some parts of the dmos were excluded
from participating in the assembly.

Institutional powers
The question remains, however, whether the assembly still played a decisive role in the decisionmaking process or not. Was the assembly still capable of enacting decrees and if so on what subjects?
We have already seen that the assembly in several cases can be seen as the institution that elected the
magistrates (cf. supra). Another area in which the role of the ekklsia cannot be overlooked is that of
honorary decrees. The evidence of honorary inscriptions is, however, more often seen as a
confirmation of the dominance of the elites. The role of the dmos is hereby reduced to that of an
audience of the elite and a source for acquiring symbolic capital.
Dios speech before the assembly of Rhodes (Or. 31) is probably the most informative text from
Dios works on the issue of honouring citizens. It is clear that also in Rhodes it was the assembly that
voted on honorary decrees.43 The fact that Dio held the speech in which he argued to abolish the habit
of rededicating statutes before the assembly must indicate that he thought the assembly could do
something about the situation. This can be seen clearly in the following lines:
51. Then consider, further, that all men regard those agreements as having greater validity which
are made with the sanction of the state and are entered in the city's records; and it is impossible
for anything thus administered to be annulled, either in case one buys a piece of land from
another, a boat or a slave, or if a man makes a loan to another, or frees a slave, or makes gift to
anyone. How in the world, then, has it come to pass that these transactions carry a greater
security than any other? It is because the man who has handled any affair of his in this way has
made the city a witness to the transaction.
52 In heaven's name, will it then be true that, while anything a person may get from a private
citizen by acting through the state cannot possibly be taken from him, yet what one has received,

, :
, ,
. , .
,
, , : ,
. ; ,
, , , . , ,
: ,
, , ,
, : ,
.
42
F. Qua, Op. Cit., p. 355; and M. Sartre, Op. Cit., p. 128.
43
Dio, Or. 31. 9, 1. Speaking to the assymbly Dio says: For whenever you vote a statue to anyone.
. For whenever you vote a statue to anyone.

69

not only by a state decree, but also as a gift of the people, shall not be inalienable? And whereas
an action taken in this way by anybody else will never be annulled by the authority of the state,
yet shall the state, in the offhand way we observe here, cancel what it has itself done? and that
too, not by taking it away in the same manner in which it was originally given, that is, by the
commonwealth officially, but by letting one man, if he happens to be your chief magistrate, have
the power to do so?
53. And besides, there are official records of those transactions of which I have spoken; for the
decrees by which honours are given are recorded, I take it, and remain on public record for all
time. For though repaying a favour is so strictly guarded among you, yet taking it back from the
recipients is practised with no formality at all. Then, while the one action cannot be taken except
by a decree passed by you as a body, yet the other comes to pass by a sort of custom, even
though it is the will of only one person. Note, however, that, as I said, these matters have been
recorded officially, not only in the decrees, but also upon the statues themselves, on which we
find both the name of the man who received the honour and the statement that the assembly has
bestowed it, and, again, that these statues are set up on public property. 44 Dio, Or. 31. 51-53.

Dios most interesting argument against the habit of rededication is that it annulled a decree of the
state. According to Dio the decrees of the assembly are the decrees of the state. The honorary decrees
have the security and authority of the state and are kept in the citys records. Another thing that is
worth noticing is that although Dio does not let the assembly of the hook, he seems to blame the
strategos in particular. With the purpose of convincing the assembly to stop the rededication of statues
Dio tries to make the contrast between the act of giving the statue and of taking it away as big as
possible. He therefore emphasizes that while honouring someone is a decision of the whole people one
man can take it away. The official decree of the state can be annulled by an ordinary custom. 45 It is
clear that Dio sees the assembly as sovereign over the strategos, or at least tries to convince the
assembly for his current purpose that they are in this matter. What is certain though is that Dio made
his speech in the assembly, because he thought it could make a difference. In the final part of his
speech Dio urges the assembly to do something about the situation.
134 Besides, if it appears vexatious that your city should be deprived of any power, it is you your
own selves who are depriving it of the power to guarantee for the recipients the security of its
gifts. For whenever you confer this honour upon a man, it is no longer in your power to allow

Dio, Or. 31. 51-53. ,


: , ,
, .
; . ,
, : ,
, ; :
, ; , , ,
, ; , .
.
, . , ,
, ; , ,
, ,
.
45
Dio, Or. 31. 132. For since the practice is carried on without any record being kept and is not regulated by either law or decree,
absolutely no concession is made for anyone, and this indignity may happen to anyone at the pleasure of the chief magistrate at any
time. ,
, .
44

70

him to keep it; on the contrary, one official always has this in his control, namely, the chief
magistrate. And yet, it is worse for you to lack this power owing to custom than to be estopped
by law. For in the one case men in a certain sense have not been deprived of the control of that
which they have by law renounced their right willingly because of the advantage thereby gained.
135. But when we have to deal with a custom, one cannot even say that men have deprived
themselves if deprived they have been of a thing on which they have neither passed
judgment nor deliberated.
Dio, Or. 31. 134-135, 1-4.

A few lines ahead Dio eventually states without further ado:


139. 1-3. But for my part I am at a loss to understand why on earth you do not pass a law on this
matter to regulate it for the future, if such is your pleasure.

In these passages we have seen that one of the institutional powers of the assembly of Rhodes was the
passing of honorary decrees. The oration of Dio gives no indications of the dominance of the boul in
these matters. Furthermore in the text there are glimpses of other fields in which the assembly
apparently operated. When Dio tries to undermine an argument that could be used against him, namely
that the statues are property of the city and that the people can therefore do with them as they please,
he compares the statues to the voting offerings in the sacred places. According to Dio these were also
made at the cities own expense and were also the property of the people.46 If we assume that Dio did
not distort the image for the sake of the comparison that was meant to help him make his point, this
would mean that the assembly also handled financial matters concerning the votive offerings.
Another speech that is interesting regarding the powers of the assembly is the short speech Dio
made before the assembly of Prusa (Or. 45).47 In this oration Dio defends himself against the
accusation that he was too ambitious and that he entertained expectations by his plans to enhance
the prestige of the city. He admits he went a little too far by wanting to erect not merely colonnades
and fountains, but also, if that were possible, fortifications and harbours and shipyards. Besides this
he also dreamt of making Prusa the head of a federation of cities.48 At the end of the speech it seems
that Dio was also accused of being responsible for a building project that afterwards was seen as too
ambitious.
At that time, at any rate, when the proconsul accepted the proposal possibly through your
efforts, but perhaps through mine as well and convened an assembly, though I had had no

46

Dio, Or. 31. 57. 4-7. For instance, consider the votive offerings in the sacred places: the city made them at its own expense and
dedicated them. No one would dispute that they are the property of the people. ,
, . For instance, consider the votive offerings in
the sacred places: the city made them at its own expense and dedicated them. No one would dispute that they are the property of the
people.
47
Dio, Or. 45. 1. Fellow citizens, I want to render you an account of this sojourn of mine, ,
,
48
Dio, Or. 45. 12-13. For, gentlemen, that I wished in the first place to beautify the city and equip it with, not merely colonnades and
fountains, but also, if that were possible, fortifications and harbours and shipyards, I freely admit. 13 And also that I have had
another passionate desire call it either so childish or so foolish as you will I do not deny. I mean my desire to make our city the
head of a federation of cities and to bring together in it as great a multitude of inhabitants as I can, and not merely dwellers in this
distinct either, but even, if possible, compelling other cities too to join together with us, , ,
, , , . 13
, , ,
, , ,
,

71

previous warning, and began to read a statement about these matters, I could not keep quiet, but
took the floor and gave the measure my support and explained the project for those who lacked
information on the subject. 16 And as to what happened after that, it is not that you the Assembly
desired the improvements but a certain one of the officials opposed them, nor yet that, while no
one opposed them, none was found enthusiastically in favour of them and ready to cooperate;
on the contrary, one and all, believing that the undertaking was fine and for the city's good, were
ready not only to vote for it but also to contribute to it; and thus the proposal was carried, as
being fine and magnificent and beneficial to the city.
Dio, Or. 45. 15-16.49

Here at the end of his speech Dio makes a final case that he was not to blame for anything by stating
that it was the assembly that voted the proposal for the building project. Moreover, according to Dio,
this particular assembly convened by the proconsul following a request not only of Dio himself, but
also of the people. Dio even claims that he was surprised by the proconsuls call for an assembly and
he only admits to have spoken in favour of the proposal after it had already been made. Although the
speech was made by Dio as a defence to accusations of others and he therefore plays down the role he
played in the adoption of the proposal it is clear that it was the assembly who in the end voted on the
building project. If the proconsul or Dio as a member of the elite were obviously the men who decided
on the building project, it would been absurd for Dio to suggest that if there were people to blame for
the project it would have been the whole assembly. The reality seems to have been one of cooperation
between the assembly, their rich fellow-citizen Dio and the proconsul, who was probably to be
included in the decision-making process, because of the financial nature of the matter.

Dio, Or. 45. 15-16. ,


, , , ,
. ,
, , ,

.
49

72

4.2

The Discourse Paradigm

In this chapter we will study the structures of power by examining the language in the literary works
of Dio and Plutarch. The language of these texts can give us information on how power was
constructed and contested and which ideas where dominant in the political ideology of the GraecoRoman polis. First we will consider the discourse of Dio and Plutarch in addressing an elite audience.
Although these texts are written by and for members of the elite they can be used for our current
purpose. When Dio and Plutarch describe their ideas about the good statesman and how he is supposed
to behave in public affairs the people are never far away. Although their image of the dmos is biased
the language they use in regard to the people can give us an idea about the relationship between mass
and elite.
After this we will focus on a few speeches of Dio in which we can see the communication between
mass and elite at work. According to Ober it is formal rhetoric that is our best source for information
on popular ideology. When speaking before a mass audience the elite orator is much more inclined to
express ideas which are compatible with those of the people. By studying the speeches of Dio we will
see whether the rhetorical topoi of his time were similar to those of democratic Athens. The nature of
these topoi will tell us something about the political ideology of the time and whether or not the
symbolic universe was dominated by the elite.

4.2.1

The Dmos from an Elite Perspective

In this paragraph we will consider two orations of Dio and the An Seni of Plutarch in more detail in
order to get an image of elite ideology. If elites were still spending much time and thought on
constructing and advocating an elite perspective on the people, this would be an indication that
popular ideology was still present in the Roman imperial period. It is also important to know the
typical elite view on the dmos, because we can then examine if and how this view was contested in
the communication between mass and elite and whether popular ideology had been excluded from
politics or not.

The 32nd Oration of Dio: Alexandria


The 32nd oration of Dio was held in Alexandria. From the text it is not certain on what occasion the
speech was made, but the location seems to be the theatre.50 The audience probably consisted of the

50

Dio, Or. 32. 2, 1-5. And yet there are those who praise you for your wisdom and cleverness, asserting that, although you assemble
here in thousands, you not only can conceive what is fitting but at the same time are quick to put your conceptions into words.

73

citizens of Alexandria as can be seen from the location and the subject of the speech. Dios main goal
is to make clear what the proper behaviour of large numbers of people should be. In the first part of the
speech Dio is still relatively kind for his audience, but in the final two thirds of his oration his criticism
of the behaviour of the people as a mob is vicious. This speech contains therefore valuable information
about the elites perspective on the people. In a particular interesting passage Dio tells his audience
that the dmos can have two natures.
25 But I will explain to you more clearly, if you wish, the nature of the demos, in other words,
the nature of yourselves. In fact such an explanation is a useful thing, and it will do you more
good than if I were to speak about heaven and earth. Well then, I claim that the demos most
closely resembles a potentate, and a very strong one too, one that has great authority and power,
and a more powerful potentate and holding sway over a greater number in proportion as the
people itself is more numerous and belongs to a prouder city.
26 Among these over-lords, then, are included kings, who have been deified for the general
safety of their realm, real guardians and good and righteous leaders of the people, gladly
dispensing the benefits, but dealing out hardship among their subjects rarely and only as
necessity demands, rejoicing when their cities observe order and decorum. But others, on the
contrary, are harsh and savage tyrants, unpleasant to listen to and unpleasant to meet; their rage
is prompt to rise at anything, like the rage of savage beasts, and their ears are stopped, affording
no entrance to words of fairness, but with them flattery and deception prevail.
27 In like manner democracy is of two kinds: the one is reasonable and gentle and truly mild,
disposed to accept frankness of speech and not to care to be pampered in everything, fair,
magnanimous, showing respect for good men and good advice, grateful to those who admonish
and instruct; this is the democracy which I regard as partaking of the divine and royal nature, and
I deem it fitting that one should approach and address it, just as one directs with gentleness a
noble steed by means of simple reins, since it does not need the curb.
28 But the more prevalent kind of democracy is both bold and arrogant, difficult to please in
anything, fastidious, resembling tyrants or much worse than they, seeing that its vice is not that
of one individual or of one kind but a jumble of the vices of thousands; and so it is a multifarious
and dreadful beast, like those which poets and artists invent, Centaurs and Sphinxes and
Chimaeras, combining in a single shape of unreal existence attributes borrowed from manifold
natures. And to engage at close quarters with that sort of monster is the act of a man who is truly
mad or else exceedingly brave and equipped with wings, a Perseus or a Bellerophon. 51

,

51
Dio, Or. 32. 25-28. , , , .
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74

Dios message here is rather conservative and reflects a number of classical elitist critiques of the
people. The dmos should observe order and decorum and refrain from forceful actions by being
gentle and mild. The good dmos also listens to advice and it shows respect for good men. The bad
dmos is bold and arrogant it listens to flattery instead of to reason, its rage is prompt to rise at
anything and it is difficult to please. Dio describes the bad dmos with a mythological allusion to
dreadful beasts as the Centaurs, Sphinxes and Chimaeras.52 The good dmos is compared to a
noble steed. Although that is clearly better than a dreadful beast it is still a zoological metaphor,
which according to William Barry indicates that it is still of a lower order of nature and in need of
guidance from good men, a naturally higher order. It is therefore clear that Dio viewed society as a
naturally hierarchic order. The gap between the elite and the dmos is represented as natural and
therefore also unbridgeable. According to Dio the people should allow the good men to speek
frankly and in this way guide them by giving their advice. The role of the people in politics is thereby
reduced to an extremely passive one.53
One could therefore say that the orthodox image of the Graeco-Roman polis in which the elite were
clearly dominant is confirmed in this oration. However, the language and rhetorical images Dio uses
are far from new. Even in the classial period in a state as democratic as Athens we find numerous
examples of the same criticism of the people. At the end of paragraph 86 Dio uses for example a
slightly modified quote of Euripides saying that the people are a an unbridled mob, a disorderly gang
of tars.54 In the passage preceding Dios description of the good and the bad dmos he quotes some
other classical examples images for the behaviour of the mob.
22. If Hermes, a god and a winged god besides, complains of the waves and the sea and the lack
of cities and men on the way, was I, a mere mortal, a nobody from nowhere, clad in a mean
cloak, with no sweetness of song and a voice no louder than common, not afraid of your noise,
your laughter, your anger, your hissing, your rough jokes the means by which you terrify all
men and always dominate men everywhere, both private citizens and princes and that too,
though I hear Homer and the other poets constantly singing of the mob as being cruel and unruly
and prone to violence? This is what Homer has to say:
23 Then stirred was the assembly, as the sea
Sends forth long billows on the Icarian deep,
Billows the Southeast wind doth raise, with force
Rushing from out the clouds of Father Zeus;
and here are the words of another:
Unstable and evil is the populace,
And wholly like the sea: beneath the gale
'Tis fanned to fury; should a calm ensue,
A little puff doth ruffle it. So let
Some change be made, the victim is engulfed.

, .
, .
52
S. Sad, Dios Use of Mythology, in: Swain, Dio Chysostom, pp. 169-171.
53
W.D. Barry, Art. Cit., p. 91.
54
Euripides, Hecuba 607.

75

24. So you too might perhaps engulf me with your uproar and your turmoil, in spite of my desire
to serve you. But if you wait and hear me through, all men will think you wonderful, and will
give you credit for acquaintance, not alone with twanging lyres and dancing feet, but with words
of wisdom too, that I also may thus have a just defence to offer those who blame and condemn
me for coming here; for they will blame me, you may be sure, and will say that I am a notorietyhunter and a madman to have thus exposed myself to the mob and its hubbub. Let me, then, be
able to assert that not every populace is insolent and unwilling to listen, and that not every
gathering of the people must be avoided by men of cultivation. 55
Dio, Or. 32. 22-24.

These passages clearly show that Dio uses classical stereotypes to describe the bad dmos. 56 The fact
that these images where used throughout antiquity, in democracies and oligarchies alike, should
prevent us from concluding that his point of view was a consequence of a recent increase in the
dominance of the elite. Moreover Dios need to construct an image of the good dmos and to discredit
a crowd that behaves otherwise suggests that the practice of civic life could have been different. This
being said we will now go on to another oration of Dio that can give us an idea of elite ideology.

The 7th Oration of Dio: The Euboicus


The last text of Dio we will be examining in this paragraph is the Euboicus or the Euboean Oration
(Or. 7). This oration is probably the most interesting one for those who want to study the internal
working of an assembly of the Roman imperial period. As we shall see this speech is, however, not
without its interpretational problems. The Euboean oration was most likely delivered for an audience
in Rome by an older Dio.57 The oration can be divided into two main parts. In the first part (1-80) Dio
tells the story of how he survived a shipwreck. An event Dio claims to be a personal experience and
not merely something he heard from others.58 In the second part (81-152) Dio uses this story in his

Dio, Or. 32. 22-24.


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,
,
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,
,
.
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56
W.D. Barry, Art. Cit., p. 95-98.
57
Dio, Or. 7, 1. I shall now relate a personal experience of mine; not merely something I have heard from others. Perhaps, indeed, it
is quite natural for an old man to be garrulous and reluctant to drop any subject that occurs to him, and possibly this is just as true of
the wanderer as of the old man. The reason, I dare say, is that both have had many experiences that they find considerable pleasure in
retelling. Anyhow I shall describe the character and manner of life of some people that I met in practically the centre of Greece.
58
Cf. Footnote above.
55

76

discussion of important moral issues.59 After he is being shipwrecked Dio is saved by a hunter. When
the two are on their way to the hut of the hunter Dio is told that the hunter has only visited the nearby
city twice in his life. He is then told the story of the hunters last visit (21-63). It is this tale-within-atale that is most valuable for this thesis. Yet before going into more detail a few things must be said.
The story forming the first part of the speech, as so many of the literature of the Second Sophistic,
cannot be taken at face value. According to John Ma the Euboicus contains several traditional topoi
(depopulation, urban decay, rural idyll, shipwrecks etc.) that were used in imperial Greece. These
topoi are rather reflections of stereotypes and perception than clear images of reality. Moreover Dios
emphasis on the supposed truthfulness of the story suggests that the opposite might have been more
likely. This makes it impossible to determine whether the whole work or parts of it are pure fiction,
truthful or something in between.60 For this reason it is easy to dismiss the ekphrasis of the hunters
story as just another example of Second Sophistic literature copying the classical past. The accurate
image of a democratic assembly meeting was made possible by Dios excellent education in the
classics. Yet if we look at the assembly of the Euboicus from a perspective that leaves room for the
existence of popular elements in the post-Classical polis, it is also possible that the assembly of the
huntsmans story was more than just a story. There are two arguments that can be combined to justify
the claim that the assembly described in the Euboicus may well be more than just an image of the past.
First of all there is, as we have already seen in the first chapter, other evidence that suggests the
continuance of popular participation. In this chapter we have also examined parts of the speeches
which Dio delivered to the assemblies of different towns in the Greek East. Second, the town that is
described could have been the city of Carystus. As we have already seen in chapter one there is an
inscription from this town dating from the reign of Hadrian that suggests it was still fairly democratic.
The inscription indicates that the prytaneis from the council of Carystus still rotated monthly and more
surprisingly that the council was appointed annually by lot.61
For our current purpose it is, however, not really important whether the assembly of this talewithin-a-tale had existed in reality. What is important is the purpose of the story. Ma argues that Dio
uses the story to substantiate his criticism of the contemporary polis. In order for Dio to make his point
the image he gives of the polis in contrast with the rural life of the hunter must have been recognizable
and at least partly accurate in the eyes of his audience. According to Ma Dios criticism could only
have made sense if it was an informed criticism. This means that Dios story was inspired by inside
information deriving from his personal experience.62 The discourse and rhetorical images used by Dio
must have been familiar to his audience and can therefore tell us something about the political
ideologies of the time. We will begin our discussion or the text with a summary of the huntsmans
story.
After the hunter is taken to the city by one of its citizens he is brought before the assembly in the
theatre by some officials (archontes). The matter of the huntsman is not treated at once giving him the
opportunity to observe.

N. Vujcic, Greek Popular Assemblies in the Imperial Period and the Discourses of Dio of Prusa, in: Epigraphica Anatolica.
Zeitschrift fr Epigraphik und historische Geographie Anatoliens. 42 (2009), p. 165.
60
J. Ma, Public Speech and the Community in the Euboicus, in: S. Swain ed., Dio Chrysostom, Politics, Letters and Philosophy,
pp. 108-111.
61
IG XXII, 9. 11. Cf. Appendix 4.
62
J. Ma, Public Speech and the Community in the Euboicus, in: S. Swain ed., Dio Chrysostom, Politics, Letters and Philosophy,
pp. 117-123.
59

77

"Now at first the crowd deliberated on other matters for a considerable while, and they kept up a
shouting, at one time in gentle fashion and all of them in cheerful mood, as they applauded
certain speakers, but at other times with vehemence and in wrath. 25 This wrath of theirs was
something terrible, and they at once frightened the men against whom they raised their voices, so
that some of them ran about begging for mercy, while others threw off their cloaks for fear. I too
myself was once almost knocked over by the shouting, as though a tidal wave or thunder-storm
had suddenly broken over me. 26 And other men would come forward, or stand up where they
were, and address the multitude, sometimes using a few words, at other times making long
speeches. To some of these they would listen for quite a long time, but at others they were angry
as soon as they opened their mouths, and they would not let them so much as cheep. 63
Dio, Or. 7, 24-26.

The first thing that stands out is that the huntsman had to wait, because the people (ho ochlos)
deliberated on other subjects for a considerable while. The image we get from the story of the hunter
is that in this particular city the assembly was far from powerless and that it discussed several issues.
Furthermore the way in which they did this does not resemble the image we get from most
inscriptions. The assembly the huntsman describes is certainly not static or passive. Several people
addressed the assembly for a shorter or a longer period. Some spoke from the center, while others
stould up and spoke from their seating place ( ). It seems therefore that anyone present could
seize the opportunity to make his opinion known to his fellow citizens. However, not everyone was
allowed to continue speeking and some were not even allowed to finish their first sentence.
This brings us to a second observation of this first passage. Although the people were at times quiet
and patient during someones speech and fast with applause afterwards, the huntsman tells us more
about the less friendly face of the people. When the people dissagreed with a speaker they would let
him know immediately by shouting. The hunter compares the sound of the crowd to a tidal wave and
a thunderstorm ( ), causing several speakers to be very frightened. Just
like in the 32nd oration Dio is comparing the dmos to the dangerous sea.
In the following part the hunter tells Dio about the accusation that was made against him.
According to the accuser the huntsman was guilty of the unlawful use of public land. The hunter fails
the standard of a good rich citizen. He is wealthy, yet he has never performed any public service and
he does not pay any tax living free from taxes and public services as if he was a benefactor of the
city.64 According to John Ma the main argument of the first speaker is an example of class resentment.
The poor certainly envied the elite for their wealth. In democratic Athens it was a very frequent theme
of orators and litigants to accuse their opponents of witholding money or making contributions that
were too small in comparison with their wealth.65 Encouraged by the laughing of the crowd the first

Dio, Or. 7, 24-26. , ,


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, .
, . ,
, , , . ,
.
64
Dio, Or. 7, 28. For what, pray, would they ever have received it? And though they occupy what is ours and are wealthy, yet they
have never performed any public service, nor do they pay any tax on what they make, but live free from taxes and public services as
though they were benefactors of the city. ;
, ,
.
65
Ober, MEDA, pp. 205, 215.
63

78

speaker continues his attack on the hunter by abusing him verbally and accusing him of flashing lights
to ships passing by with the purpose of leading them to the rocks and wrecking them. Ma argues that
this last accusation can be seen as a metaphore for asocial activity by which some men live off the
destruction of their fellow men. In this passage Dio is painting the stereotype picture of the
demagogue who is interested only in satisfying his public and misses not a single oppurtunity to
achieve this. Throughout his accusatoin the accuser uses personal attacks to make his point. The fact
that the hunter is actually the exact opposit of everything he is being accused of makes the irrationality
of the orators behaviour comically clear to the audience.66 It seems moreover that Dio is criticizing the
greed of the people by mocking their attempt to get money of a poor hunter.
After this a second speaker opposes the first speaker in front of the assembly. He is far more
moderate and proposes that the hunter either has to pay a small tax or to buy the land from the city for
a low price. The motive of this second speaker, however, seems to be less noble than his proposal
implies. The purpose is clearly to discredit his political opponent, the first speaker. The second speaker
succeeds in his purpose as the assembly burst into a rage against that first speaker in his turn and
made a great uproar.67 The hunter then tells us that the first speaker again spoke in reply and that
the two stormed at each other for a long time. In the heat of the moment the two antagonists let the
personal enmity between them take over.68
After this the hunter is allowed to speak. He denies all the accusations and tells the assembly that
he is willing to pay whatever they want. Immediately he is asked by a magistrate (archon) what he
would be able to give to the people The hunter then gives a summary of his meager possessions
causing the magistrate to be angry with him.69 In the next passage there is a final twist to the story.
Suddenly one of the citizens in the assembly stands up and tells how he and the man sitting next to
him were saved by the hunter when they suffered from shipwreck. The second speaker immediately
proposes to reward the huntsman for this with the formal grant of the land he was using and an
additional reward in money and clothing all of which he will be paying himself.

66

J. Ma, Art. Cit., p. 112, 113. Citation from p. 112.


Dio, Or. 7, 39. Now on hearing this they burst into a rage against that first speaker in his turn and made a great uproar.
.
68
Dio, Or. 7, 41. "When he had thus concluded, that first speaker again spoke in reply, and the two stormed at each other for a long
time. But finally I was bidden to day whatever I wished. , ,
. , . , , ; ,
. , , .
69 69
Dio, Or. 7, 42-43. " 'And what ought I to say?' I asked. 'Reply to what has been said,' cried one from his seat. 'Well then, I
declare,' said I, 'that there is not one word of truth in what he has said. And as for me, sirs,' I continued, 'I thought I was dreaming
when he prated about fields and villages and such like. We have no village or horses or asses or cattle. I wish we might possess all
the good things he described, that we might not only have given to you but might also belong to the wealthy class ourselves! Yet
what we even now have is sufficient for us, and do you take whatever you wish of it. Even if you want all, we shall replace it.' At
these words they applauded. "Thereupon the magistrate asked me what we would be able to give to the people, to which I replied,
'Four deer pelts of excellent quality.' Here the majority laughed and the magistrate was vexed at me. 'That is because the bear skins
are rough,' I continued, 'and the goat skins are not as good as they. Some are old and some are small. But take these too, if you wish.'
Then he was vexed once more and said that I was a downright landloper, , , , , ,
. .
, . ,
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; , , , . .
. , , , , : ,
. .
67 67

79

In the assembly described by the huntsman there seems to have been relative freedom of speech.
Decrees were proposed by speakers and voted by acclamation. The magistrates were certainly present,
but they did not dominate the assembly meeting. Dio, however, was not just trying to give an accurate
description of a meeting of the assembly. The language and images Dio use indicate that he was also
criticizing demotic decision-making. The story as a whole is meant to contrast the simple idyllic life of
the hunter and his family. The process of decision-making in the assembly is described as dominated
by extreme changes of course. At the beginning the hunter is severely attacked, but he ends up being
rewarded by the people of the city. In his 34th oration Dio uses a simile between Tarsus and a ship
sailing with offshore breezes or rather with gusts from the storm-clouds that threaten to sink the
ship to criticize its decisions.70 Here Dio uses the ekphrasis of the hunter for the same purpose.
The reason for the uncertainty of demotic decision making seems to be the combination of orators
and a mass audience. Both orators in the assembly of the hunter, although in different degrees, try to
get the audience on their hand. The proposals of the orators, whether they attack the hunter or propose
to honour him, were made to please the people. The power of the people in the assembly over the
orators came from their fear for the tidal waves of the mass and their eagerness for glory and applause.
Fear and glory are the two most important incentives for orators to please their audience and to forget
that they were supposed to give sound advice. We have already seen that in Alexandria Dio says that
he would be accused of being either a notoriety hunter or a madman to confront the hubbub of the
mob.71 Here Dio mockingly criticizes the politics of the assembly by showing the irrational game
between the orators and the people through the eyes of a poor hunter who is swept from right to left by
the inner dynamics of the assembly meeting.
Again Dio is not expressing particularly new thoughts. Other writers from the elite, such as Plato,
Aristotle, Thucydides and Isocrates, already criticized orators for acting like demagogues and being
crowd pleasers. They rejected the democratic notion of collective wisdom and the quality of mass
decision-making and therefore considered it to be extremely dangerous for a state when orators failed
to oppose the masses.72 Elite writers in democratic Athens focused their criticism on three aspects of
democracy. They denied that public rhetoric was a valid way to arrive at a point that an informed and
rational decision could be made, they questioned the existence of democratic knowledge or collective
wisdom, and they rejected the authority of the peoples power. These three elements were essential to
a democratic government in antiquity and stood in close relationship with each other. The criticism
Dio expresses here is mainly directed against the democratic claim that public speech can be used for
proper decision-making. He redescribes democracy as a type of government based on rhetorical
contests which necessary leads to obscuring objective facts and poor decision-making.73
If we assume that the Euboean oration is more than spielerei of a nostalgic member of a powerless
elite and that it is really used by Dio to make a point, we must also assume that the criticism was direct
at an existing practice. This does not mean that the Greek cities of the Roman period were as

70

Dio, Or. 34, 37. Cf. Supra.


Dio, Or. 32. 24 for they will blame me, you may be sure, and will say that I am a notoriety-hunter and a madman to have thus
exposed myself to the mob and its hubbub. ,
:
72
Ober, MEDA, p. 315.
73
J. Ober, Political dissent in democratic Athens: intellectual critics of popular rule, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 2002, pp.
42, 73, 104.
71

80

democratic as classical Athens, but it does mean that both democratic and elite ideology continued to
exist beyond the classial polis.

Plutarchs An seni respublica gerenda sit


Another work that can give us information about the elite perspective on good and bad statesmanship
is Plutarchs An Seni Respublica Gerenda sit (Whether an old man should engage in public affairs).
This work is addressed to a certain Euphanes whom Plutarch tries to convince that old men should not
retire from public affairs, because they can be of much value to the state. In the first part of his work
Plutarch explains why it is that old men are so important to the state when they keep engaged in public
affairs (1-17; 783b-792f). After this he gives his opinion on the way in which an old man should do
this (18-28; 793-797f). This particular work contains valuable information on the politics of the
Graeco-Roman polis and although it is written by and for a member of the elite, it far from ignores the
people, as can be seen at the beginning of his work where Plutarch says that in a democratic and legal
government a man has accustomed himself to be ruled for the public good no less than to rule it is
an honour for old men to continue serving the state till they die.74 Throughout the An Seni we can find
indications of the on-going importance of the assembly as an institution. A great deal of Plutarchs
argument is based on the assumption that young politicians have much to learn from their older
colleagues, especially from their behaviour towards the people.
784c-d. and the laws which are proclaimed by the heralds in the assemblies bear witness to this,
when they call up first to the platform, not the young men like Alcibiades and Pytheas, but men
over fifty years of age, and invite them to speak and offer advice. For such men are not incited
by lack of the habit of daring or by want of practice to try to score a victory over their political
opponents.75
788c. For the evil caused by their physical weakness to the public activities of those who step
into civil or military office when beyond the usual age is not so great as the advantage they
possess in their caution and prudence and in the fact that they do not, borne along sometimes
because of past failures and sometimes as the result of vain opinion, dash headlong upon public
affairs, dragging the mob along with them in confusion like the storm-tossed sea, but manage
gently and moderately the matters which arise. 76
789d. and though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak; but from the servants of Zeus, god of the
Council, the Market-place, and the State, we do not demand deeds of hands and feet, but of
counsel, foresight, and speech not such speech as makes a roar and a clamour among the
people, but that which contains good sense, prudent thought, and conservatism; and in these the

74

Plut., An Seni, 783d-e. But a democratic and legal government, by a man who has accustomed himself to be ruled for the public
good no less than to rule, gives to his death the fair fame won in life as in very truth an honourable winding-sheet;


75
784c-d.
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76
788c.
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81

hoary hair and the wrinkles that people make fun of appear as witnesses to a man's experience
and strengthen him by the aid of persuasiveness and the reputation for character. 77
790e. and can a youngster manage a State rightly and persuade an assembly or a senate after
reading a book or writing in the Lyceum a school exercise about political science, if he has not
stood many a time by the driver's rein or the pilot's steering-oar, leaning this way and that with
the politicians and generals as they contend with the aid of their experiences and their fortunes,
thus amid dangers and troubles acquiring the knowledge they need? No one can assert that.78
794d. And in somewhat the same way a man who has grown old ought to treat speech-making in
the assembly; he should not be constantly jumping up on the platform, nor always, like a cock,
crowing in opposition to what is said;79

In these passages Plutarch stresses the political superiority of older men in advising and dealing with
the assembly. Plutarchs description of the vices of young politicians resembles some typical
democratic problems which were often used in antiquity to argue that democracy was not a reliable
type of government. Young politicians are focused on trying to score a victory over their political
opponents, they drag the mob along with them in confusion like the storm-tossed sea, they stir up the
people with their speeches and they are seen constantly jumping on the platform. In contrast with a
young man, the older man possesses caution and prudence, he manages gently and moderately the
matters which arise, his speeches contain good sense, prudent thought, and conservatism and he
persuades the people to his will. Plutarchs argument is clear. Without the example of the old men the
young politicians will never learn how to steer the ship of state. The fact that for Plutarch managing
the state rightly consists of persuading both the assembly and the senate is telling.
In the following passages we will see that one of the flaws young politicians often exhibit is that of
envy. The task of the old politician is to give the right example and to prevent his younger colleagues
from pleasing the assembly. Because of their ambition young politicians tend to spare the rod and
spoil the child. Plutarch therefore points out that although it is difficult, it is sometimes necessary to
oppose the people.
796a. For the emotion of envy is not fitting for any time of life, but nevertheless it has among
young people plenty of fine names, being called "competition," "zeal," and "ambition"; but in old
men it is totally unseasonable, uncultured, and ignoble. Therefore the aged statesman, being far
beyond the feeling of envy, should not, as envious old tree trunks clearly do, try to destroy and
prevent the sprouting growth of the plants which spring up beside them and grow under them,
but he should receive kindly those who claim his attention and attach themselves to him; he
should offer himself to direct, guide, and support them, not only with good instructions and
advice, but also by giving up to them public offices which bring honour and reputation, or
certain public services which will do no harm to the people, but will be pleasing to it, and will
make them popular. But as for such things as arouse opposition and are difficult and, like certain

789d.
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82

medicines, smart and hurt at first but produce an excellent and profitable result afterwards, he
should not force young men into these and subject them to popular outcries while they are still
unaccustomed to the inconsiderate mob; but he should himself assume the unpopularity arising
from advantageous measures, for in this way he will make the young more well-disposed
towards him and more eager in performing other services. 80
796c. But above all things we must remind them that statesmanship consists, not only in holding
office, being ambassador, vociferating in the assembly, and ranting round the speakers' platform
proposing laws and making motions. Most people think all this is part of statesmanship, just as
they think of course that those are philosophers who sit in a chair and converse and prepare their
lectures over their books; but the continuous practice of statesmanship and philosophy, which is
every day alike seen in acts and deeds, they fail to perceive. For, as Dicaearchus used to remark,
those who circulate in the porticoes are said to be "promenading," but those who walk into the
country or to see a friend are not. Now being a statesman is like being a philosopher. Socrates at
any rate was a philosopher, although he did not set out benches or seat himself in an armchair or
observe a fixed hour for conversing or promenading with his pupils, but jested with them, when
it so happened, and drank with them, served in the army or lounged in the market-place with
some of them, and finally was imprisoned and drank the poison. He was the first to show that life
at all times and in all parts, in all experiences and activities, universally admits philosophy. So
this is what we must understand concerning statesmanship also: that foolish men, even when
they are generals or secretaries or public orators, do not act as statesmen, but court the mob,
deliver harangues, arouse factions, or under compulsion perform public services. 81

Plut., An Seni., 796c-797a.

Here we have an example of the elite perspective on the ideal relationship between a member of the
elite and the dmos. Plutarchs use of the simile of the promenading philosopher closely resembles
Dios metaphor of the participant in the parade we will see below in its context. The bad statesman is
likened to the bad philosopher whose purpose it is to be seen by promenading around instead of
committing to philosophy in all experiences and activities, just as the participant of the parade
exerts himself eager to catch the public eye, but relaxes his pose after he has passed beyond the

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83

spectators.82 The bad magistrate performs his public duties, because he wants to increase his personal
prestige. He is not concerned with the wellbeing of the state and puts himself before the community of
citizens. A good statesman is someone who considered, like Socrates, his profession to be a
continuous practice which is every day alike seen in acts and deeds. Plutarchs criticism is aimed at
those foolish men consisting of high officials and public orators (), who court the mob
() and deliver harangues ().
As we have already seen the connection between rhetoric and pleasing the mob was already made
by the elite writers and intellectuals of democratic Athens. In his Gorgias Plato goes against the
popular view on public speech as a decent means for decision-making. According to Plato public
speech inevitably confirms the peoples opinions. It is impossible for the orator to control his
audience. It is the audience that controls the speaker, because of his desire for honour and power. In
this way rhetoric corrupts both the speaker and the people and provides the means of the ideological
hegemony of the people. For Plato and other elite writers it was clear that the rule of the people was a
bad thing. Democracy was irrational, because it was based on the false assumption of the combined
wisdom of the masses. According to Plato political expertise was the prerogative of a few people who
had specialized themselves in politics. Political expertise was certainly not to be found in those skilled
in rhetorical speaking. Rhetoric was neither a science nor was it based on real knowledge.83

82

Dio, Or. 34. 36. It reminds me of a parade, in which each participant, eager to catch the public eye, exerts himself to that end until
he has passed beyond the spectators, but when he gets a short distance away, he relaxes his pose and is just one of the many and goes
home in happy-go-lucky style. ,
, .
83
J. Ober, Political dissent in democratic Athens: intellectual critics of popular rule, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 2002, pp.
160, 161, 190.

84

4.2.2

The Communication between Mass and Elite

In this final paragraph we will examine two orations of Dio delivered before the assemblies of Tarsus
and Prusa. In the preceding paragraph we have seen that Dio and Plutarch were still actively
constructing an elite perspective on the role of the people in politics. This is already an indication that
popular ideology was not dead yet. Here we will be looking for language and rhetorical topoi that
could indicate whether or not an elite orator still had to confirm himself in some way to the ideology
of the mass. How did an orator define the relation between mass and elite?

The 34th Oration of Dio: Tarsus


A first speech that we will be seeing in more detail is one of the concord speeches (Or. 34). This
oration was delivered by Dio in Tarsus, a town in the province of Cilicia, before the assembly, as can
be seen from the text itself.84 C. Bost-Pouderon, judging from the paragraphs containing advice on the
proper conduct of members of the elite, thinks that at least some of the bouleutai would also have been
present.85 This could mean either that at least some of the members of the boul were normally also
present at assembly meetings or that they attended the assembly for this special occasion. In contrast
with the first Tarsic discourse (Or. 33), the second oration is part of the genre of symbouleutic
rhetoric. The overall tone is diplomatic as is appropriate for the serious political issues it treats. These
issues include the difficult relationship between the city and the Romans, the hostility between the city
and its neighbours and the internal divisions of the city.
From the captatio benevolentiae in the exordium of his speech (1-6) we can conclude that Dio is
taking the role of the philosopher and benevolent outsider.86 His audience needed to be convinced of
his sincerity. Otherwise they would not allow him to voice his criticism and ignore his advice. At the
end of the exordium Dio wants to make two things perfectly clear to his audience: first that they are in
dire need of good judgement in the present emergency, and second that there was not one man
among them that could advise them properly, some because of their ignorance, some because of their
fear for the people and some because of their egoism.87

84

Dio, Or. 34. 20, 1-2. For, let me tell you, you must not think that there is harmony in the Council itself, nor yet among yourselves,
the Assembly. . Dio, Or. 34. 20, 1-2.
85
Dio, Or. 34. 29-37.
86
Dio, Or. 34.4 Then in what expectation and with what purpose has a man of my stamp come before you at such a crisis? For such a
step savours of real madness. I am here because there is nothing which I myself require of you, while on the contrary I have been
much concerned to be of service to you. If, then, you refuse to bear with me, clearly it will be your loss and not my own.
; .
, . , , , .
87
Dio, Or. 34.6 Well then, since you are silent and indulgent toward me, first of all I wish to point out to you one thing, in case you
are not fully aware of it that you need good judgement in the present emergency, and that your problems are such as to merit
counsel and much foresight; secondly, that no man in this company can readily advise you as to the proper course of action, some
being really ignorant of your true advantage and some being swayed by fear of you or of others, and in certain instances, I dare say,
looking rather to their own interests. , , , , ,

85

After the exordium Dio introduces the structure of his speech. First he will describe the problems
which the people of Tarsus are having (7-27), after this he will argue why the citizens of Tarsus are
incapable of solving these on their own (28-37), and then he will give his personal advice (38-48). In
the peroration Dio finally puts the quarrels between Tarsus and its neighbours into perspective by
comparing them with those of classical Athens and Sparta.88
The most interesting part of the speech for current purposes is the second one (28-37) in which Dio
criticizes the citizens of Tarsus for taking their political duties too lightly and placing personal
ambitions above the citys wellbeing. The function of this part of Dios speech is to make sure that his
audience is willing to accept the advice that will be offered in the part that follows. In the following
passage Dio argues that the leading citizens of Tarsus are incompetent.
26. And let no one suppose that in saying this I am advising you to put up with absolutely
anybody and to endure any and every thing; nay, my purpose is rather that you, being acquainted
with your own situation, may not only take better counsel in the present instance, but may also in
the future demand that the man who comes forward to speak shall make his proposals to you, not
in an off-hand manner nor on the inspiration of the moment, but with full knowledge and after
careful examination of every detail. For the physician who has investigated minutely the
symptoms of his patient, so that nothing can escape him, is the one who is likely to administer
the best treatment.89
27. That your present situation, then, demands careful attention, and a better adviser than those
who ascend the rostrum by chance or for mercenary reasons or because of family position, you
can perceive in some measure from what follows. For at a time when your own harmony is not
assured, and when most of the cities that surround you are not on friendly terms with you, but
some are envious through long rivalry with you, while others are actively hostile because of
disputes over territory, and still others claim to be subject to annoyance in one form or another,
and when the general supposes, to be sure, that your feeling toward him is improving, although
you and he have been compelled to clash with one another even previously, and when,
furthermore, you are viewed with jealousy because of the very magnitude of your city and the
ability you will have to rob your neighbours of many of their possessions at a time like this,
how can you for these reasons fail to require careful and well-considered judgement?90
28 "Well then," you interject, "are not the citizens competent to appraise this situation and to
give advice regarding it?" Absurd! For if the leaders and statesmen in the cities were competent
to hit upon the proper course, all men would always fare handsomely and be free from harm
unless of course some chance misfortune should perversely befall one city or another. But on the

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88
C. Bost-Pouderon ed., Oeuvres Dion Chrysostomus, Paris, Les Belles Lettres, 2011, pp. 43, 48, 49.
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contrary, in my opinion, both in former days and at the present time you would find that more
dreadful things have happened to cities through ignorance of what is to their interest and through
the mistakes of their leaders than the disasters that happen by divine will or through mere
chance.91
29 For sometimes men without any ability to perceive what is needful, men who have never
given heed to their own welfare in the past, incompetent to manage even a village as it should be
managed, but recommended only by wealth or family, undertake the task of government; still
others undertake that task in the belief that they are displaying diligence if they merely heap up
phrases and string them together in any way at all with greater speed than most men can,
although in all else they are in no way superior to anybody else. And what is most serious is that
these men, not for the sake of what is truly best and in the interest of their country itself, but for
the sake of reputation and honours and the possession of greater power than their neighbours, in
the pursuit of crowns and precedence and purple robes, fixing their gaze upon these things and
staking all upon their attainment, do and say such things as will enhance their own reputations. 92
30 Consequently one may see in every city many who have been awarded crowns, who sacrifice
in public, who come forth arrayed in purple; but a man of probity and wisdom, who is really
devoted to his own country, and thinks and speaks the truth, whose influence with the city that
follows his advice insures better management and the attainment of some blessing such a man
is hard to find.93
31 Yes, this is bound to happen, one might say. For when men think it is those who have
performed liturgies or will some day do so who should counsel them, and when, provided a man
is gymnasiarch or demiourgos, he is the only one whom they allow to make a speech or, by
Zeus, the socalled orators it is very much as if they were to call upon only the heralds or the
harpists or the bankers. Accordingly men come forward to address you who are both emptyheaded and notoriety-hunters to boot, and it is with mouth agape for the clamour of the crowd,
and not at all from sound judgement or understanding, that they speak, but just as if walking in
the dark they are always swept along according to the clapping and the shouting. 94
32 And yet if someone should tell pilots that they should seek in every way to please their
passengers, and that when applauded by them they should steer the ship in whatever way those
passengers desired, it would take no great storm to overturn their ship. Frequently, you know, a

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seasick land-lubber or some nervous female at the sight of rocks fancies that land and harbour
are in view and implores the skipper to steer for shore. 95
33 But I say that the counsellor who is a good counsellor and fit to be leader of a city should be
prepared to withstand absolutely all those things which are considered difficult or vexatious, and
especially the vilifications and the anger of the mob. Like the promontories that form our
harbours, which receive the full violence of the sea but keep the inner waters calm and peaceful,
so he too should stand out against the violence of the people, whether they are inclined to burst
into a rage or abuse him or take any measures whatever, and he should be wholly unaffected by
such outbursts, and neither if they applaud him, should he on that account be elated, nor, if he
feels he is being insulted, should he be depressed.96
34 However, what happens at Tarsus is not like that. No one of your statesmen, as I am told,
holds that to be his function, nor is it so any longer with the commons; but, on the contrary, some
persons stand absolutely aloof, and some come forward to speak quite casually, barely touching
on the issue as people touch the libation with their lips claiming that it is not safe for them
to dedicate their lives of that government. And yet, though no one could be successful as a shipowner or money-lender or farmer if he made those occupations a side-issue, still men try to run
the government out of their spare time and put everything else ahead of statecraft. 97
35 And some, in case they do accept office, seek therein only to engage in some enterprise out of
which they may emerge with added glory for themselves, making that their sole aim.
Accordingly for six months they are your men of valour, frequently not to the advantage of the
city either. And so at one moment it is So-andso who makes the motions, and hard upon his
heels comes someone else in quick succession, and then a third; and he who but one brief month
ago was resplendent and claimed to be the only one who cared for the city cannot be seen even
coming to the assembly.98
36 It reminds me of a parade, in which each participant, eager to catch the public eye, exerts
himself to that end until he has passed beyond the spectators, but when he gets a short distance
away, he relaxes his pose and is just one of the many and goes home in happy-go-lucky style.
However, while your president should regard his six months as the limit to his term of office
for so the law prescribes still the statesman should not, by heaven, observe any set term for
the exercise of benevolence toward you and of care and concern for the commonwealth and

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that too a term so brief nay, he should strip for action for that very purpose and hold himself
in readiness for service constantly. 99
37 But at present, just like men who sail with offshore breezes or rather with gusts from the
storm-clouds so are you swept along, men of Tarsus, though neither such statecraft nor such
voyaging has aught of certainty or of safety in it. For such blasts are not the kind to last for ever
or to blow devoid of interruption, but they often sink a ship by falling upon it with undiminished
violence. And a city of such size and splendour as your own should have men who truly take
thought on its behalf. But as things go now, I dare say, under these transitory, short-lived
demagogues no good can come to you. 100
Dio, Or. 34. 26-37.

Whether the leaders of Tarsus were really as incompetent as Dio wants us to believe is not important.
What is more interesting is Dio motivation and the way in which he tries to discredit them. In this
long passage Dio vigorously criticizes the faulty decision-making process of Tarsus which he sees as
the cause for their current problems. Almost all the typical images of the bad orator are present. In
contrast with the Alexandrian oration it is not the dmos who is taking the blame, but the leading
citizens of Tarsus. The reason for this is that this speech is of a clearly symbouleutic nature. The issues
at hand are serious and Dio needs to convince his audience, the assembly, to take his advice.
As we have seen in the previous paragraph the connection between rhetoric and bad decisionmaking was an essential part of elite critiques on democracy. The topos of the misleading
demagogue was, however, also a rhetorical device used by orators to attack their opponents in front of
the people. In this way they used the demos fear of being misled by rhetoric to discredit their
opponents, and the power of rhetoric provided a convenient excuse for a politician to explain why his
policies were sometimes rejected by the people.101 Speaking before the people Dio is smart not to
blame the assembly for their current problems. The people should not follow his advice, because they
were wrong in the past, but because they were misled in the past by bad orators. In the final lines of
the exordium102 Dio had already used what Ober calls the evils of flattery topos by accusing the
leading citizens of Tarsus of being swayed by fear of the assembly and of looking rather to their
own interests. As we have seen these were the two incentives for the orators mouth agape for the
clamour of the crowd.103 The attack of Dio in paragraph 31 where he calls the leading citizens of
Tarsus notoriety-hunters looks a lot like the criticism of Demosthenes in his Third Olynthiac. In
this speech delivered before the assembly Demosthenes claims that the crisis they were in at that
moment was caused by the popularity-hunting of orators who had misled the people.104 The good
statesman should, according to Demosthenes, put the welfare of the state above his own wellbeing.105

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101
Ober, MEDA, pp. 168-170. Citation from p. 170.
102
Cf. footnote 50.
103
Ober, MEDA, pp. 321-324.
104
Demosthenes, Third Olynthiac, 3.3. Never was there a crisis that demanded more careful handling than the present. But the
difficulty lies, I think, not in proposing a plan to meet the case: what puzzles me, men of Athens, is how to put it before you. For
99

89

The 46th Oration of Dio: Prusa


A second speech that contains information on the communication between mass and elite is oration 46,
Dios first speech delivered before the assembly of Prusa. It can probably be dated to the time of the
emperor Vespasian.106 This particular speech is a little different from the other speeches of Dio we
have examined. Because it is delivered in his home town Dio cannot take the role of the philosopher or
the impartial outsider. This means that Dio has to work harder for the goodwill of his audience and
cannot be overly critical. Not only is he a young politician who still has to earn the respect of his
fellow citizens in this particular case he is in a serious conflict with the dmos. The assembly at which
Dio delivers his speech is convened because of the riots of the day before. A mob had marched on the
estate of Dio threatening the lives of him and his family. Yet at the final moment the mob retrieved,
making it possible for Dio to react on the events in his speech before the assembly. The reason for the
anger of the people seems to have been a grain shortage and a concomitant rise in prices. Dio was
accused of hiding his grain and driving up the prices. Dio denies these accusations passionately. In
order to convince the assembly of his innocence Dio makes use of several arguments. The stakes are
high and Dio has to rely on his rhetorical ability to persuade the people. The 46 th oration is therefore a
good example of the communication between mass and elite.
Dio begins his speech by condemning the rioting behaviour of the people. They rely on stones and
fire, the strength of brigands and madmen. According to Dio a city governed by the people should,
however, rely wisdom and fairness for strength.107 The power of the people should not be the power of
the mob. Here Dio is questioning the authority of the kratos of the dmos. The people should not rely
on their numbers, but on the advice of its best citizens. Dio goes on to a second argument in his
defence.

what I have seen and heard convinces me that most of your chances have escaped us rather from a disinclination to do our duty than
from a failure to understand it. I must ask you to bear with me if I speak frankly, considering only whether I am speaking the truth,
and speaking with the object that things may go better in the future; for you see how the popularity-hunting of some of our orators
has led us into this desperate predicament. , , :
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105
Demosthenes, Third Olynthiac, 3.21. I am not talking for the idle purpose of quarrelling with anyone here. I am not such a
misguided fool as to pick a quarrel deliberately when I see no advantage from it. But I consider it right as a citizen to set the welfare
of the state above the popularity of an orator. , :
:
.
106
G. Salmeri, Dio, Rome, and the Civic Life of Asia Minor, in: Swain, Dio Chrysostom. pp. 63, 64.
107
Dio, Or. 46. 1-2. For it is in every way more dreadful to be proved a scoundrel than to be stoned to death or consumed by fire.
And you must recognize first of all that the things which seem terrible to you stones and fire are not terrible to anybody, and
that you are not really strong because of these things, but weakest of all unless one were to take into account the strength of
brigands and madmen. But as for a city and a government by the people, strength lies in other things, and first and foremost in
wisdom and fair dealing. .
. 1 , ,
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90

Now with reference to my father, there is no need for me to tell whether he was a good citizen,
for you are always singing his praises, both collectively and individually, whenever you refer to
him, as being no ordinary citizen. You should know, however, that these words of praise of
yours are of no use to him; on the other hand, when you give your approval to me, his son, then
you have been mindful of him too. Again, no one could say of my grandfather4 either that he
disgraced the city or that he spent nothing on it out of his own means. For he spent on public
benefactions all that he had from his father and his grandfather, so that he had nothing left at all,
and then he acquired a second fortune by his learning and from imperial favour. Moreover, it is
plain that he asked for no favour for himself, though held in such great friendship and esteem,
but rather that he guarded and husbanded for you the goodwill of the Emperor. But if anyone
thinks it foolishness to remind you of goodwill and nobility on the part of your own citizens, I do
not know how such a man can wish to be treated well himself. Being descended, then, from such
forebears, even if I were an utter knave myself, yet surely on their account I should merit some
consideration instead of being stoned or burned to death by you.
But consider my own claims too, gentlemen, not unsympathetically. For my father left us an
estate which, while reputed to be large, was small in value, yes, much less than that of others; for
no less than four hundred thousand drachmas were in bills receivable, besides foreign business
ventures of such nature that they were far more troublesome than the bills. For we had no
security, I might say, for any part of our assets, but my father had acquired all his wealth through
trusting to his own influence, believing that no one would contest his claims. Yet, left as I was in
such a situation, while I have not even now succeeded in securing a settlement of that part of the
loans which fell to me, I have performed for you the greatest liturgies, in fact no one in the city
has more of them to his credit than I have. Yet you yourselves know that many are wealthier
than I am. What is it, then, that makes you angry with me, and why of all the citizens have you
singled out for dishonour me and what's-hisname, and why do you threaten us with stoning and
burning?108
Dio, Or. 46. 2-6.

Here Dio emphasizes that he has performed many liturgies. According to Ober this is one of the
possible rhetorical topoi within the ideology of wealth in classical Athens. In order to balance the
negative perception of his wealth which was reinforced by the grain shortage Dio tries to evoke the
dmoscharis (a sense of gratitude) by summarizing the many liturgies performed by him and his
family as a service to the city. He even tries to downplay his wealth. He says that he is not as rich as
he seems to be and that he is poorer than many of his fellow citizens. The claim to be relatively poor is
another rhetorical topos of democratic Athens. The audience did not genuinely believe in the poverty

Dio, Or. 46. 2-6. .


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of the orators, but the topos of poverty functioned as a dramatic fiction. By humbling himself Dio
compelled his audience to grant him the same amount of goodwill as a genuinely poor person would
have gotten.109

Dio: Demosthenes or Plato?


Dios use of some of the rhetorical topoi of democratic Athens and the resemblance of his
argumentation with that of Demosthenes forms a clear contrast with Dios earlier critiques of the
dmos. How can this contrast be explained? First of all we should not exaggerate the contrast too
much. Even when speaking to the assembly Dio does not acknowledge the power of the people as a
principle. For Dio the proper relation between assembly and elite citizens would be one in which the
people listened to the advice of those who knew best. From Dios and Plutarchs work it becomes,
however, clear that this ideal relationship was not always a reality. Sometimes the people refused to
listen and sometimes the ambitions of elite citizens allowed the people to exercise more influence on
civic politics than an institutional perspective would suggest.

4.3

Conclusion

From the works of Dio and Plutarch it becomes clear that the dmos of the Greek cities in the Roman
Empire was not powerless. The assembly was still involved in the politics of the polis and it was still
composed of all the male citizens. It still elected the magistrates and enacted decrees on various topics.
It is difficult to establish with certainty that the council did not dominate the decisions of the assembly.
It cannot be proven beyond doubt that the enacting of decrees by the assembly was more than just the
rubberstamping of readymade decisions. The rhetorical language and images in the works of Dio and
Plutarch, however, suggest that elite ideology was still challenged by popular ideology. The need of
Dio and Plutarch to establish the proper behaviour of the people suggests that the people did not
always behave in a way that was preferred by the notables. Moreover some of Dios speeches still
show signs of the mediating language between mass and elite of classical Athens. This meant that
there were still tensions between the upper and the lower classes and that one of the solutions for these
tensions lay in the communication between them.

109

92

Ober, MEDA, pp. 220-223, 226-230, 307.

Conclusion

The goal at the beginning of this thesis was to see whether there were still some democratic elements
left in the Greek cities of the Roman Empire. We have therefore looked at civic politics both from an
institutional perspective and from a perspective that concentrates on language as something that
constructs and contests power. Here we will test the information this gave us against the criteria of
Dahl in order to see whether decision-making in the Graeco-Roman polis still exhibited some
democratic features.
In order for a state to be democratic its citizens must have the ability to participate actively in the
decision-making process. A citizen should be able to acquire information, to formulate his opinion, to
make this opinion known to others and to vote on the final decision. All these different conditions
could be fulfilled by an assembly meeting. In chapter one we have seen that the assembly of the
Roman period was still open to all citizens, that it convened regularly and that its meetings were
attended by many citizens. So far there is no reason to question the possibility for democratic decisionmaking.Yet Dahls fourth criterion has shown to be problematic for the Gaeco-Roman polis. This
criterion states that citizens should be able to decide on the agenda of the assembly meeting in order to
make sure that its decions were democratic.110 In ancient democracy it was the council that decided on
the agenda of the assembly meetings. The council of the Roman period was only open to the members
of the elite.
The main argument for those who see the cities of the Roman period as oligarchic societies is that
the council succeeded in monopolizing the institutional power of the polis and imposing its will on the
assembly thereby reducing it to a secondary institution. It is certainly true that the council could abuse
its institutional powers, but it cannot be said that it always succeeded in doing this. In order to find out
if the council did really dominate the politics of the Greek cities we have looked at the relation
between elite ideology and popular ideology. In chapter four we have seen that elite ideology was still
very much concerned with regulating the power of the people. After this we looked at the
communication between mass and elite for signs of popular ideology. The formal rhetoric of Dio
showed that the people were still able to exercise power over elite citizens. Yet it also showed that the
people did not succeed in creating an ideological hegemony.

110

R. A. Dahl, On Democracy, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1998, pp. 37, 38.

93

The conclusion of this thesis is that there were still democratic elements in the poleis of the Roman
Empire. The citizens of these cities were still familiar with popular ideology, but elite ideology was
the dominant political ideology. This does not mean that there was no possibility for the people to
participate in civic politics, but it did mean that power was mostly in the hands of the elite. The Greek
cities of the Roman East cannot be called democracies. Calling them oligarchies would, however, also
be a mistake. As Arjan Zuiderhoek has already stated the politics of the Roman Greek cities cannot be
labeled either oligarchich or democratic.111 This thesis has tried to show that even under the Roman
Empire the polis stayed a place in which politics was dominated by the tensions between mass and
elite and their claims on how a community of citizens should function.

111

94

A. Zuiderhoek, On the Political Sociology of the Imperial Greek City, in: GRBS, 48, (2008), pp. 417, 418.

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102

Appendix

Correspondence between Pliny and Trajan.

Pliny translated by William Melmoth and revised by F. C. T. Bosanquet.


10.79
To the Emperor Trajan
By a law of Pompey's concerning the Bithynians, it is enacted, Sir, that no person shall be a
magistrate, or be chosen into the senate, under the age of thirty. By the same law it is declared that
those who have exercised the office of magistrate are qualified to be members of the senate.
Subsequent to this law, the emperor Augustus published an edict, by which it was ordained that
persons of the age of twenty-two should be capable of being magistrates. The question, therefore, is
whether those who have exercised the functions of a magistrate before the age of thirty may be legally
chosen into the senate by the censors? And if so, whether, by the same kind of construction, they may
be elected senators, at the age which entitles them to be magistrates, though they should not actually
have borne any office? A custom which, it seems, has hitherto been observed, and is said to be
expedient, as it is rather better that persons of noble birth should be admitted into the senate than those
of plebeian rank. The censors elect having desired my sentiments upon this point, I was of opinion that
both by the law of Pompey and the edict of Augustus those who had exercised the magistracy before
the age of thirty might be chosen into the senate; and for this reason, because the edict allows the
office of magistrate to be undertaken before thirty; and the law declares that whoever has been a
magistrate should be eligible for the senate. But with respect to those who never discharged any office
in the state, though they were of the age required for that purpose, I had some doubt: and therefore,
Sir, I apply to you for your directions. I have subjoined to this letter the heads of the law, together with
the edict of Augustus.
10.80
Trajan to Pliny

103

I agree with you, my dearest Secundus, in your construction, and am of opinion that the law of
Pompey is so far repealed by the edict of the emperor Augustus that those persons who are not less
than twenty-two years of age may execute the office of magistrates, and, when they have, may be
received into the senate of their respective cities. But I think that they who are under thirty years of
age, and have not discharged the function of a magistrate, cannot, upon pretence that in point of years
they were competent to the office, legally be elected into the senate of their several communities.
10.112
To the Emperor Trajan
The Pompeian law, Sir, which is observed in Pontus and Bithynia, does not direct that any money for
their admission shall be paid in by those who are elected into the senate by the censors. It has,
however, been usual for such members as have been admitted into those assemblies, in pursuance of
the privilege which you were pleased to grant to some particular cities, of receiving above their legal
number, to pay one or two thousand denarii on their election. Subsequent to this, the proconsul
Anicius Maximus ordained (though indeed his edict related to some few cities only) that those who
were elected by the censors should also pay into the treasury a certain sum, which varied in different
places. It remains, therefore, for your consideration whether it would not be proper to settle a certain
sum for each member who is elected into the councils to pay upon his entrance; for it well becomes
you, whose every word and action deserve to be immortalized, to establish laws that shall endure for
ever.
10.113
Trajan to Pliny
I can give no general directions applicable to all the cities of Bithynia, in relation to those who are
elected members of their respective councils, whether they shall pay an honorary fee upon their
admittance or not. I think that the safest method which can be pursued is to follow the particular laws
of each city; and I also think that the censors ought to make the sum less for those who are chosen into
the senate contrary to their inclinations than for the rest.
10.114
To the Emperor Trajan
The Pompeian law, Sir, allows the Bithynians to give the freedom of their respective cities to any
person they think proper, provided he is not a foreigner, but native of some of the cities of this
province. The same law specifies the particular causes for which the censors may expel any member of
the senate, but makes no mention of foreigners. Certain of the censors, therefore, have desired my
opinion whether they ought to expel a member if he should happen to be a foreigner. But I thought it
necessary to receive your instructions in this case; not only because the law, though it forbids
foreigners to be admitted citizens, does not direct that a senator shall be expelled for the same reason,
but because I am informed that in every city in the province a great number of the senators are
foreigners. If, therefore, this clause of the law, which seems to be antiquated by a long custom to the
contrary, should be enforced, many cities, as well as private persons, must be injured by it. I have
annexed the heads of this law to my letter.

104

10.115
Trajan to Pliny
You might well be doubtful, my dearest Secundus, what reply to give to the censors, who consulted
you concerning their right to elect into the senate foreign citizens, though of the same province. The
authority of the law on one side, and long custom prevailing against it on the other, might justly
occasion you to hesitate. The proper mean to observe in this case will be to make no change in what is
past, but to allow those senators who are already elected, though contrary to law, to keep their seats, to
whatever city they may belong; in all future elections, however, to pursue the directions of the
Pompeian law: for to give it a retrospective operation would necessarily introduce great confusion.

105

Cicero Pro Flacco

[15] And thus this young man, full of ability, worked on the wealthy by fear, on the poor by bribes, on
the stupid by leading them into mistakes; and by these means he extorted those beautiful decrees
which have been read to you,decrees which were not passed by any formal vote or regular authority,
nor under the sanction of an oath, but carried by holding up the hand, and by the loud shouts of an
excited multitude. [16] But all the republics of the Greeks are governed by the rashness of the
assembly while sitting. Therefore, to say no more of this Greece, which has long since been
overthrown and crushed through the folly of its own counsels; that ancient country, which once
flourished with riches, and rower, and glory, fell owing to that one evil, the immoderate liberty and
licentiousness of the popular assemblies. When inexperienced men, ignorant and uninstructed in any
description of business whatever, took their seats in the theatre, then they undertook inexpedient wars;
then they appointed seditious men to the government of the republic; then they banished from the city
the citizens who had deserved best of the state. [17] But if these things were constantly taking place at
Athens, when that was the first city, not only in Greece, but in almost all the world, what moderation
do you suppose there was in the assemblies in Phrygia and Mysia? It is usually men of those nations
who throw our own assemblies into confusion; what do you suppose is the case when they are by
themselves? Athenagoras, that celebrated man of Cyme, was beaten with rods, because, at a time of
famine, he had ventured to export corn. An assembly was summoned at the request of Laelius.
Athenagoras came forward, and, being a Greek among Greeks, he said a good deal, not about his fault,
but in the way of complaining of his punishment. They voted by holding up their hands. A decree was
passed. Is this evidence? The men of Pergamus, having been lately feasted, having been a little while
before glutted with every sort of present,I mean, all the cobblers and girdle-makers in Pergamus,
cried out whatever Mithridates (who governed that multitude, not by his authority, but by fattening
them up) chose. Is this the testimony of that city? I brought witnesses from Sicily in pursuance of the
public resolution of the island. But the evidence that I brought was the evidence not of an excited
assembly, but of a senate on its oath. [18] So that I am not now arguing against the reception of
evidence; but you are to decide whether these statements are to be considered evidence. [19] And is it
strange that those men who abominate the sight of our faces, who detest our name, who hate our tax
on pastures, and our tenths, and our harbour dues, more than death itself, should gladly seize on every
opportunity of injuring us that presents itself? Remember, therefore, that when you hear decrees you
are not hearing evidence; that you are listening to the rashness of the common people; that you are
listening to the assertions of all the most worthless men; that you are listening to the murmurs of the
ignorant, to the voice of an inflamed assembly of a most worthless nation. Therefore examine closely
into the nature and motive of all their accusations, and you will find no reason for them except the
hopes by which they have been led on, or the terrors and threats by which they have been driven

106

*****309
[57] 4-10. And while on this topic I beg you over and over again to recollect how great is the rashness
of a multitude,how great the peculiar levity of Greeks,and how great is the influence of a
seditious speech in a public assembly. Even here, in this most dignified and well-regulated of cities,
when the forum is full of courts of justice, full of magistrates, full of most excellent men and
citizens,when the senate-house, the chastiser of rashness, the directress in the path of duty,
commands and surveys the rostra, still what storms do we see excited in the public assemblies? What
do you think is the case at Tralles? is it the same as is the case at Pergamus?310

309

[15] sic adulescens ingeni plenus locupletis metu, tenuis praemio, stultos errore permovit; sic sunt expressa ista praeclara quae
recitantur psephismata non sententiis neque auctoritatibus declarata, non iure iurando constricta, sed porrigenda manu
profundendoque clamore multitudinis concitatae. O morem praeclarum disciplinamque quam a maioribus accepimus, si quidem
teneremus! sed nescio quo pacto iam de manibus elabitur. nullam enim illi nostri sapientissimi et sanctissimi viri vim contionis esse
voluerunt; quae scisceret plebes aut quae populus iuberet, submota contione, distributis partibus, tributim et centuriatim discriptis
ordinibus, classibus, aetatibus, auditis auctoribus, re multos dies promulgata et cognita iuberi vetarique voluerunt. [16] Graecorum
autem totae res publicae sedentis contionis temeritate administrantur. itaque ut hanc Graeciam quae iam diu suis consiliis perculsa et
adflicta est omittam, illa vetus quae quondam opibus, imperio, gloria floruit hoc uno malo concidit, libertate immoderata ac licentia
contionum. Cum in theatro imperiti homines rerum omnium rudes ignarique consederant, tum bella inutilia suscipiebant, tum
seditiosos homines rei publicae praeficiebant, tum optime meritos civis e civitate eiciebant. [17] quod si haec Athenis tum cum illae
non solum in Graecia sed prope cunctis gentibus enitebant accidere sunt solita, quam moderationem putatis in Phrygia aut in Mysia
contionum fuisse? nostras contiones illarum nationum homines plerumque perturbant; quid, cum soli sint ipsi, tandem fieri putatis?
caesus est virgis Cymaeus ille Athenagoras qui in fame frumentum exportare erat ausus. data Laelio contio est. processit ille et
Graecus apud Graecos non de culpa sua dixit, sed de poena questus est. porrexerunt manus; psephisma natum est. hoc testimonium
est? nuper epulati, paulo ante omni largitione saturati Pergameni, quod Mithridates qui multitudinem illam non auctoritate sua, sed
sagina tenebat se velle dixit, id sutores et zonarii conclamarunt. hoc testimonium est civitatis? ego testis a Sicilia publice deduxi;
verum erant ea testimonia non concitatae contionis, sed iurati senatus. [18] qua re iam non est mihi contentio cum teste, vobis,
iudices, videndum est, sintne haec testimonia putanda. adulescens bonus, honesto loco natus, disertus cum maximo ornatissimoque
comitatu venit in oppidum Graecorum, postulat contionem, locupletis homines et gravis ne sibi adversentur testimoni denuntiatione
deterret, egentis et levis spe largitionis et viatico publico, privata etiam benignitate prolectat. opifices et tabernarios atque illam
omnem faecem civitatum quid est negoti concitare, in eum praesertim qui nuper summo cum imperio fuerit, summo autem in amore
esse propter ipsum imperi nomen non potuerit? [19] mirandum vero est homines eos quibus odio sunt nostrae secures, nomen
acerbitati, scriptura, decumae, portorium morti, libenter adripere facultatem laedendi quaecumque detur! Mementote igitur, cum
audietis psephismata, non audire vos testimonia, audire temeritatem volgi, audire vocem levissimi cuiusque, audire strepitum
imperitorum, audire contionem concitatam levissimae nationis. itaque perscrutamini penitus naturam rationemque criminum; iam
nihil praeter spem, nihil praeter terrorem ac minas reperietis. *****
310
[57] 4-10. quo loco etiam atque etiam facite ut recordemini quae sit temeritas multitudinis, quae levitas propria Graecorum, quid
in contione seditiosa valeat oratio. hic, in hac gravissima et moderatissima civitate, cum est forum plenum iudiciorum, plenum
magistratuum, plenum optimorum virorum et civium, cum speculatur atque obsidet rostra vindex temeritatis et moderatrix offici
curia, tamen quantos fluctus excitari contionum videtis! quid vos fieri censetis Trallibus? an id quod Pergami?

107

IG XII,9 11
Euboia Karystos reign of Hadrian cf. Addenda p.176 cf. IG XII,supp.174,11

[ ]
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