Redeeming Thucydides' Book VIII: Narrative Artistry in the Account of the Ionian War 9783110533071, 9783110532074

Citation preview

Vasileios Liotsakis Redeeming Thucydides’ Book VIII

Trends in Classics – Supplementary Volumes

Edited by Franco Montanari and Antonios Rengakos Scientific Committee Alberto Bernabé · Margarethe Billerbeck Claude Calame · Jonas Grethlein · Philip R. Hardie Stephen J. Harrison · Stephen Hinds · Richard Hunter Christina Kraus · Giuseppe Mastromarco · Gregory Nagy Theodore D. Papanghelis · Giusto Picone · Kurt Raaflaub Tim Whitmarsh · Bernhard Zimmermann

Volume 48

Vasileios Liotsakis Redeeming Thucydides’ Book VIII

Narrative Artistry in the Account of the Ionian War

ISBN 978-3-11-053207-4 e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-053307-1 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-053209-8 ISSN 1868-4785 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2017 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Logo: Christopher Schneider, Laufen Printing and binding: CPI books GmbH, Leck 1 Printed on acid-free paper * Printed in Germany www.degruyter.com

… for my parents, Antonis and Agathi Liotsakis

Foreword This book is a revised version of my doctoral dissertation which was composed during the period 2011– 2015 at the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki. All these years, there were plenty of people who helped me by reading the initial text of my work and by offering me their precious advices on all levels (style, argumentation, methodology). Above all, I wish to express my deepest gratitude to my supervisor Professor Antonios Rengakos for his constant willingness to meet me and discuss with me whenever I needed him, for his invaluable guidance and observations on the drafts of this book, as well as for his generous and ungrudging support in a series of projects that I took over during my PhD studies. I am also deeply indebted to Professors Ioannis Konstantakos, Nikos Kaltabanos, Eugenia Makrygianni, Evangelos Alexiou, Evina Sistakou, Christos Tsagalis, Aimilios Mavroudis, Dimitrios Christidis, and Yannis Tzifopoulos for reading carefully the final version of my dissertation and for helping me improve certain problematic parts of it. My thanks are also due to Semina Rouni for working on the tables of this book and to Professors Walter Lapini, Mario Baumann, and Stefan Feddern and the staff of the Library of the School of Classical Philology in the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens for providing me with bibliography. I also wish to thank the Papadakis Foundation for funding my doctoral research in the years 2012 – 2015. I would also like to thank the editors of Trends in Classics, Antonios Rengakos and Franco Montanari, and the anonymous readers. Last, but not least, I am grateful to my family and students for their patience whenever they needed me and I was “absent” due to my research activity. Heidelberg, February 12, 2017 V.L.

Contents Introduction 1  Forschungsbericht 3  Objectives and methods

11

Chapter  The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24) 20  The motifs of the revolt type-narratives in the case of Chios (8.1 – 24) 24 32  Techniques of coherence  The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History 46 . The fulfillment of the foreshadowing of ch. 4.81.2 – 3: The echoes of 46 Brasidas’ diplomacy in the Ionian war . The Chios narrative as a foreshadowing of the defeat of the Spartans 59 at Cyzicus Conclusions 63 Chapter  The loss of prestige and recovery I: The echoes of Phrynichus’ admonitions 64 (8.25 – 107)  A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat 66 78  The great defeat  Depicting the low morale of the defeated 84  The presentation of the events that prove the low morale 86  The final comeback: The Spartans at Mantinea and the Athenians at Cynos Sema 98 Conclusions 101 Chapter  The loss of prestige and recovery II: The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema (8.25 – 107) 103  The retardation before the battle of Mantinea 104  The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema as the second narrative thread of ch. 8.25 – 107 111 Conclusions 138

X

Contents

Chapter  141 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema  The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus 142  The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of 155 Cynos Sema  The narrative role of the battle at Cynos Sema in the arrangement of the History 159 Epilogue 165  The three traditional if: speeches – omissions and inaccuracies – 165 documents  The narrative functions as a method with which to unify the 167 heterogeneous information  Book VIII and the History 168  Type-narratives and the penetration into the events 171 Bibliography Index locorum

173 188

Index nominum et rerum

197

Introduction After years of studying the eighth book of Thucydides’ History, the following words of Theodor Adorno strike me as particularly apt: “The artwork is a process essentially in the relation of its whole and parts.”¹ For, if the German theoretician touched upon the truth, albeit minimally, then, aside from the fact that the eighth book is the most misapprehended part of the Thucydidean work, the History itself is an equally wronged whole. And this because, although it consists of eight parts in quantitative terms, over the centuries it has been consistently seen as a work of seven parts in terms of quality. The thoughts of another theoretician, Andrea Palladio, may help the reader understand my point more clearly: “Beauty will result from the form and correspondence of the whole, with respect to the several parts, of the parts with regard to each other, and of these again to the whole; that the structure may appear an entire and complete body, wherein each member agrees with the other, and all necessary to compose what you intend to form.”² I do not aspire, of course, to comprehend the beauty of the narrative in the History – or, to put it more precisely, as a scholar I am required to see no point in sharing any such apprehensions that I may have with others. Nevertheless, the question of Thucydides’ purpose in writing his work is definitely a scholarly one, and if this question is to be answered, it would be more conducive for one to view the work as a whole, rather than as six-and-a-half (we should also not forget the criticism of Book V)³ polished books and one-and-ahalf books of questionable quality. How, then, is our overall view of the History affected by the belief that Thucydides was ultimately unable to organize the narrative of Book VIII? This is perhaps the equivalent of trying to define the leading role of the orchestra in Mozart’s Requiem without taking the soprano’s short solos into consideration; or, as if we wished today to penetrate the aesthetic effect of the flexing of the back of the Venus de Milo, when we have no clue as to the shape of her missing arms. In terms of plot and narrative, which are, after all, what is at stake when it comes to Book VIII, it is as though we have sought to have a complete understanding of a film even though we have missed a scene, or as though we claim that we are familiar with the narrative goals of the Iliad while overlooking a rhapsody. In these last two cases, would our ignorance of the structure, details, and arrangement of a part of the plot not deny us the opportunity to sense the

 Adorno 20022, 178.  Palladio 1965, 1.  For bibliography on this subject see Rusten 2009a, 485. DOI 10.1515/9783110533071-001

2

Introduction

fulfillment or creation of anticipation toward this part? Even worse, if the narrative piece that we are ignoring belonged to a broader unit, such as an extensive escalation or a pivotal culmination, would we not lose the opportunity to experience those feelings that a more careful audience would enjoy? It is indisputable that a full knowledge of a work of art offers us a more secure view of it than if we were to underestimate, and thus ignore, some of its parts. Consequently, if there is indeed a narrative organization to Book VIII of the History, then to disregard it, by disbelieving it, means that we will misinterpret not only this book but also the entire oeuvre. Needless to say, even if we could define the narrative organization of Book VIII as precisely as possible, we would still be doomed to an imperfect knowledge of the work as a whole. One of the most frustrating obstacles for those studying Thucydides is that, no matter how fond they may be of his compositional skills, they will never be able to adopt such sentiments toward the History as those expressed by Leon Battista Alberti, namely that “beauty is a harmony of all the parts, in whatsoever subject it appears, fitted together with such proportion and connection, that nothing could be added, diminished or altered, but for the worse.”⁴ Thucydides never finished his account,⁵ the result being that it has never been – and never will be – possible for someone to provide a thorough description of the Peloponnesian War. Additionally, given Thucydides’ practice of associating the episodes of his account through close or distant cross-referencing,⁶ those episodes that were never written, had they actually been written, would have been integrated with those we already possess, thus giving us a totally different picture of the History. Consequently, imperfect knowledge of Book VIII is an even greater hindrance to any attempt to understand a work that is, in any case, hard to follow and interpret, as the History is. Indeed, after almost three centuries of scrupulous examination of the History, while the first seven books have been well analysed, the narrative plan of Book VIII remains an obscure subject, and we are still not in possession of a detailed presentation of its whole design. Modern scholars initially followed the opinion of the ancients⁷ that the book, as it stands, is a draft, and focused their efforts mainly on the meticulous presentation of those defects (in terms

 Alberti 1482, Book 6, ch. 2, § 156.  On the ancient view that Thucydides’ death was sudden, see Marcellin. Vit. Thuc. 32; Plu. Cim. 4.2; Paus. 1.23.9. On the view that Thucydides died of a disease, see Anon. Life 9.  Rawlings 1981; Rengakos 1996 on distant cross-references between the speeches; Rengakos 2006, 298 – 300; Rengakos 2011, 58. See also Lamari’s (2013) very instructive presentation.  Marcellin. Vit. Thuc. 43; D.L. 2.57; D.H. Th. 16.

1 Forschungsbericht

3

of style,⁸ content,⁹ and structure¹⁰) and historical inaccuracies which, in their opinion, prove the unpolished condition of the narrative (mid 19th – late 20th century). For a long time, even the supporters of this book avoided defining its overall narrative plan, as they had to answer to their opponents first. Only very lately have they started to argue that in Book VIII Thucydides continues to exploit the same narrative techniques, and today there is a consensus that the book, despite its indisputable flaws, is as coherent as the other books and fits well with the ideological and compositional unity of the History (late 20th – early 21st century).¹¹ However, although many scholars recognize the coherence and organization of the book, we still lack an exhaustive presentation of its overall plan. In this study, I intend therefore to offer a detailed description of the compositional design, which Thucydides, in my view, put into effect in the last 107 chapters of his work. My purpose is to present the structural parts of the book, their details and the techniques through which Thucydides aimed to achieve its internal coherence as well as its tight articulation with the other segments of the work.

1 Forschungsbericht Before presenting the goals and methodological principles of my research, I will proceed with a concise survey of the previous specialized studies on Book VIII. Such a review, I believe, is particularly useful for many reasons: Although the circumstances of the book’s composition have attracted much debate among specialists, there has been no fully up-to-date discussion of the bibliography on Book VIII. Even the most extensive such discussion, that in HCT, omits important studies on the book, such as those by German scholars in the 19th and 20th century,¹² or Joseph Patwell’s treatise,¹³ which he was presumably working on as Andrewes was preparing the fifth volume of the HCT. As a result, many of the views expressed in these neglected works have been falsely attributed to later scholars or, even worse, are totally absent from even the latest studies. It

 Jerzykowski 1842, 14– 30; Mewes 1868, 34– 39.  Fellner 1880; Holzapfel 1893; Prenzel 1903; Wilamowitz 1908; HCT V; Rawlings 1981; Heitsch 2007.  Fellner 1880; Holzapfel 1893; Prenzel 1903; Schwartz 1919, 72– 81; HCT V.  Hellwig 1876; Cüppers 1884; Kunle 1909; Patwell 1978; Connor 1984; Erbse 1989; Rood 1998; Williams 1998; Kallet-Marx 2001; Greenwood 2006; COT III.  Jerzykowski 1842; Hellwig 1876; Fellner 1880; Cüppers 1884; Prenzel 1903; Kunle 1909.  Patwell 1978.

4

Introduction

would be no exaggeration to say that there has never been a complete discussion of the subject. Moreover, since the publication of Andrewes’ commentary, new studies have emerged, which can better be seen as part of the general scholarship on Book VIII.¹⁴ Finally, since this study aims to fill the gap in Thucydidean scholarship by offering a full discussion of the issues concerning Book VIII, taking account of most – if possible – previous research therefore seems to be the most effective way of trying to achieve such a goal. The first dedicated study of Book VIII, Octavo historiae Thucydideae libro extremam manum non accessisse demonstratur, is that of Antony Jerzykowski, published in 1842. Jerzykowski focused on those elements which, in his opinion, prove the unfinished condition of the book. Apart from his stylistic and linguistic observations, which carry no serious probative value, the Polish scholar pointed out the absence of speeches and offered some suggestions about where Thucydides most plausibly would have included them. In addition, Jerzykowski paid particular attention to the “inexcusable” omission of patronymics, while he considered the relatively frequent use of the adverb τότε as a main indicator of a draft.¹⁵ The second systematic study, published in 1868, was that by Wilhelm Mewes and is entitled Untersuchungen ü ber das achte Buch der thukydideischen Geschichte. Rejecting the extreme skepticism that had been expressed as regards the authenticity of the book,¹⁶ Mewes discerned an ideological, methodological and stylistic continuity between Book VIII and the rest of the work. Nonetheless, he adopted Classen and Jerzykowski’s conjecture that the book suffers from certain thematic and linguistic peculiarities, and proceeded to organize these into categories. He classified ostensible linguistic weaknesses into unusual phrases and syntactic forms as well as rare words. Yet, none of Mewes’ examples, as he himself admitted,¹⁷ can be deemed abnormal in any sense. As far as issues of content are concerned, Mewes’ points pertained to certain deficiencies, which, in his opinion, Thucydides intended to but did not manage to eliminate. He noted the absence of speeches and patronymics,¹⁸ as well as some inaccurate information about the coup in Athens, in order to prove that the book is a draft.¹⁹

 Connor 1984; Erbse 1989; Rood 1998; Williams 1998; Kallet-Marx 2001; COT III; Greenwood 2006.  Jerzykowski 1842, 1– 11, 14– 30.  Marcellin. Vit. Thuc. 43 ff.; Mewes abandoned Krüger’s (1832, 75) extreme view that Thucydides’ daughter was the author of the book.  He (1868, 12) characterizes these examples as merely less usual (“weniger bewährt”).  On this subject, especially on Corinthian patronymics, see also Stroud 1994, 297 ff.  Mewes 1868, 1– 19, 29 – 39.

1 Forschungsbericht

5

Most importantly, Mewes introduced theories that were to be consolidated by later scholars. He was, for example, the first to recognize Alcibiades’ role in the narrative coherence between divergent parts of the book, a concept which, almost a century later, was to constitute the core of Brunt’s and Delebecque’s theories.²⁰ Twelve years later, Thomas Fellner wrote his dissertation Forschung und Darstellungsweise des Thukydides. Gezeigt an einer Kritik des achten Buches. Fellner defended the view that the book is a draft, still not in its entirety. He therefore propounded the idea of a distinction between its finished parts and the unpolished ones. Fellner complained about some seeming discrepancies between certain passages, mainly the digression of ch. 45 – 54, concerning Alcibiades’ influence on Tissaphernes and the reasons for the Spartans’ inactivity. In his second chapter, Fellner elaborated on the similarities between Book VIII and the rest of the work with regard to: a) Thucydides’ interpretative acumen; b) the clarity of the descriptions; c) the speeches; d) the battle descriptions; and e) the characterizations of individuals and cities. In the last two chapters, he argued that Alcibiades was one of Thucydides’ informants for the events recounted in Book VIII.²¹ The answer to the criticism of Jerzykowski, Mewes and Fellner was again to come from the Germans. In his doctoral dissertation entitled De Thucydidei operis libri octavi indole ac natura (1876), Paul Hellwig refuted the complaints about style and omissions regarding the movements and the numbers of the ships.²² Eight years later, Konrad Cüppers questioned Fellner’s objections and defended the structural perfection of the narrative (De octavo Thucydidis libro non perpolito).²³ In a similar manner to Fellner, L. Holzapfel noted several narrative inconsistencies between the digression of ch. 45 – 54 and its context, in his article “Doppelte Relationen im VIII. Buche des Thukydides” (1893).²⁴ Given how Fellner’s dissertation has been neglected, Holzapfel is usually believed to have been the first to discuss the structural weaknesses of Book VIII. Holzapfel came to the conclusion that, if death had not prevented Thucydides, then he would have radically changed the structure of the book. While in the previous books the historian had managed to avoid contradictions between different informants, in many instances in Book VIII, Holzapfel argued, he was unable to reach a similarly har-

    

Mewes 1868, 6 – 7; Brunt 1952; Delebecque 1967. Fellner 1880, 5 – 76. Hellwig 1876. Cüppers 1884. Holzapfel 1893.

6

Introduction

monious combination of different versions of a single event. Holzapfel based his theory on certain events, which, in his opinion, Thucydides narrated twice, each time following a different source. These double references concern Astyochus, Tissaphernes and Alcibiades. In 1903, Kurt Prenzel attempted to reinforce Holzapfel’s arguments in his thesis De Thucydidis libro octavo quaestiones.²⁵ Fifteen years later, Ulrich Wilamowitz published his article “Thukydides VIII”. With the exception of his insightful structural observations, which I discuss in the main part of this book, Wilamowitz did not avoid repeating Holzapfel’s mistake of ascribing certain omissions to Thucydides’ possible sources. Once again, the historian’s narrative strategies were disregarded: Without taking into account the damage possible additions would have caused to the overall structure of the book, Wilamowitz discerned signs of imperfect elaboration also in Thucydides’ silence regarding Ionia and Greco-Persian relationships, subjects which, he argued, Thucydides would probably have mentioned in an introduction to the book after a hypothetical revision.²⁶ More sober is his attitude toward structural issues. He supports the view that Thucydides had already begun a detailed organization of ch. 1– 44 and that the book is smoothly connected to the Athenian disaster in Sicily (books VI and VII). Furthermore, he correctly observes that ch. 28 does not constitute the end of any unit, a consideration which greatly enables our understanding of the logic of the whole book (see below, chapters 1 and 2). Wilamowitz seems to have believed that any possible changes would have been merely in the form of additional information rather than radical structural transformations,²⁷ thus abandoning Holzapfel’s extreme position that Thucydides intended to shape the book in a totally different way. In 1909, Lambert Kunle completed his study Untersuchungen über das achte Buch des Thukydides. This German scholar opposed the theory of discrepancies between the digression of ch. 45 – 54 and its context (advocated by Fellner, Holzapfel, and Prenzel), while he correctly observed that only hypothetical suggestions can be made regarding the absence of speeches. In his mind, Thucydides must have written the book during the period 409 – 405 BC. As for the complaints about omissions of the movements and the numbers of the ships, Kunle aptly argued that, in a subsequent revision of the narrative, it would

 Prenzel 1903.  Wilamowitz 1908, 586 – 588.  Apart, of course, from his observations on the necessity of an introduction concerning Persia and Ionia, which would undoubtedly harm the smooth transition from the Sicilian expedition to the Ionian war.

1 Forschungsbericht

7

not have been that easy for Thucydides to add new elements because, as time passed, it would have been even harder for him to collect such information.²⁸ For almost seventy years, there were no new monographs on Book VIII. During these decades, the intense dialogue in German circles had led to the consolidation of the general belief that the book is an unpolished text in a draft form and that Thucydides, if death had not stopped him, would have revised it.²⁹ However, in the late 1970s and early 1980s, there came a turning point. In 1978, Joseph Patwell completed his doctoral dissertation on Grammar, Discourse, and Style in Thucydides’ Book 8. Rejecting the traditional consensus, Patwell argued that the book was indeed as equally elaborated as the rest of the work. Addressing the question of the absence of speeches, he successfully presented the ideological and stylistic similarities between the indirect speeches of the book and the rest of the History. From these affinities, he deduced that Thucydides would not have replaced the orationes obliquae with direct speech. However, Patwell’s observations, although correct, cannot – as nothing can – solve the intractable issue of speeches in Book VIII. Perhaps more important in this respect is Patwell’s own comment that direct speeches gradually decrease in number from Book VII onwards. It would be more economical to regard this as further proof of Dewald’s theory that, from Book VI onwards, Thucydides consciously changed his manner of writing. Patwell also dealt with Thucydides’ personal comments in Book VIII, offering an excellent presentation both of their effect on its narrative organization and of their place in the History. In 1981, Hunter Rawlings dedicated one chapter of his study The Structure of Thucydides’ History to Book VIII. Right from the start, he stated that the book had not undergone revision. The narrative is loose and frequently confusing, vague and inconsistent. Only with great difficulty can we follow the movements of the fleets, the protagonists’ roles and their motivations.³⁰ According to Rawlings, the strongest indicator of the unpolished condition of the book is the absence of speeches, and one of his main points of interest, therefore, lies in collecting those passages – mainly in indirect speech – where Thucydides may have added orations. Rawlings’ contribution to our understanding of Book VIII is inestimable. Although he believed the book to have been a draft, he was the first to raise the question of whether Thucydides compared the events of Book VIII with the events in the other books and, thus, whether he continued to employ the  Kunle 1909, 20 – 40, 74– 81.  Cornford 1907; Grundy 1911, 528 – 530; Lamb 1914, 59 – 64; Schwartz 1919, 72– 91; Abbott 1925; Romilly 1963, 191– 194; Brunt 1952; Adcock 1963, 83 – 89; Westlake 1968, 35; Lewis 1977, 85.  Rawlings 1981, 177, 179, 181, 198.

8

Introduction

same method of composition. For the first time, a scholar had focused exclusively on the similarities; for the first time, someone had attempted to define the narrative logic of the book; last but not least, this was the first time that someone had discerned an – even sketchy – narrative plan. Rawlings concluded that Thucydides had composed Book VIII in the same way as he had Book III, a theory which is convincing only for certain parts of the two books, namely the Mytilene and the Chios narratives in Books III and VIII respectively. And while one could easily identify a scholarly tendency for more positive attitudes toward Book VIII, in 1981, along with the publication of Rawling’s study, the fifth volume of the HCT – which, since Gomme’s death, had been taken over by Andrewes and Dover – was published. Andrewes’ theory is the most extreme in the whole history of the studies of Book VIII. He believed that the majority of the well-known problems in the book are signs of imperfection, especially the two digressions of ch. 45 – 54 and ch. 63 – 77, and the definite article in ch. 17, ch. 21 and ch. 34. Adopting the views of Mewes, Holzapfel and Wilamowitz, Andrewes offered a one-dimensional approach, which could not but lead him to extreme interpretations. He detected signs of incompleteness wherever the text did not offer satisfying answers to his historical questions, without the faintest concern for Thucydides’ own historiographical and compositional goals. The omission of information on Persia, Trachinia, and the movements of parts of the fleets³¹ constituted the basis of Andrewes’ argument that Book VIII is nothing more than Thucydides’ notes written down in a continuous narrative form.³² Nevertheless, one can hardly disagree with Andrewes’ comments on certain imprecise, if not false, accounts, such as those on the third treaty between Sparta and Persia, the developments in Athens during the government of the 400, Phrynichus’ assassination, and the reasons for Tissaphernes’ negligence regarding the Phoenician fleet.³³ Yet, Andrewes could not stop the new tendency, which had begun with the studies of Patwell and Rawlings. The theoretical meditations of Niebuhr and others on the necessity of the co-existence of science and art in works of history³⁴ were gradually intruding into Classical studies, consolidating into a new interpretative strand in the study of Thucydides too, including Book VIII. Scholars had already ceased considering Thucydides as merely an objective scientist, while a series of monographs betrayed a new focus on the literary aspect of

 On the movements and the size of the two fleets in Book VIII, see most recently Lapini 2003.  For all these points, see HCT V, 8, 10, 17– 18, 40, 47, 77, 94, 122– 123. Andrewes (HCT V, 27, 29, 61, 72, 340) admits that Thucydides never intended to mention all the movements of the fleets.  HCT V, 369 – 375. On this matter, see Epilogue.  See, for example, Pires 2006.

1 Forschungsbericht

9

the ancient historian.³⁵ This new trend inevitably paved the way for a fresh and positive evaluation of the narrative aspects of Book VIII as well. Walter R. Connor belongs to this school. In his book Thucydides (1984), he refutes the traditional view that the structure of the book emerged from a clumsy use of sources and different compositional phases.³⁶ In Connor’s mind, the vagueness and the fragmentation of the account reflect Thucydides’ effort to adapt his narrative techniques for the complicated nature of the new material. Moreover, Connor believes that in Book VIII Thucydides’ interest lies mainly in the inner political life of Athens. His contribution to our understanding of the narrative arrangement of the book is his recognition that Thucydides was here exploiting narrative modes that were already familiar to him and that are also easily discernible in the rest of his oeuvre. In nuce, Connor attributes the peculiarities of Book VIII (the absence of speeches, omissions, etc.) to Thucydides’ conscious choices due to the more complex nature of the Ionian war. Finally, Connor cleverly explains why the reader is unable to understand the logic of the book: a) it follows the Sicilian disaster, the central culmination of the History, and its less important events are overshadowed by the passionate account of Books VI and VII; b) The book is part of a whole that remains unfinished and thus opaque. In 1989, Harmut Erbse targeted Andrewes’ theory. From the very first page of his book Thukydides – Interpretationen, he puts it simply: Thucydides excluded some information from Book VIII not because he was unaware of it but because it did not fit well with his narrative purposes in terms of both content and structure. In this way, Erbse gave an answer to all those who had imagined signs of imperfection wherever the book did not satisfy their curiosity. More importantly, he was the first to argue that the ostensible inconsistencies are intentional narrative choices: The three documents contribute to the plot arrangement, while the two extensive flashbacks are for the first time examined as a narrative pair, a suggestion which I will try to strengthen with further argumentation in Chapter 3. If Rawlings and Connor took important steps toward the comprehension of Thucydidean techniques in Book VIII, Erbse went even further by adding that these techniques can also legitimize most of the problematic parts of the book. One of his work’s most valuable merits is his belief that Thucydides purposely puts specific information in certain parts of the narrative and not in others in order to stress its gravity or to escalate tensions. Erbse thereby provides an answer to the many complaints of omissions and delayed information voiced by

 On the reaction of the scholarly circles of the era to the new trend, see Connor’s (1977) perspicacious essay.  Connor 1984, 220 n. 17. On Book VIII, see 210 – 230.

10

Introduction

Holzapfel, Wilamowitz and Andrewes. In sum, Erbse believes that Book VIII, being on a par with the rest of the work, is a narrative masterpiece.³⁷ Almost a decade later, Timothy Rood advocated for the narrative quality of the book with additional arguments. He rejected Andrewes’ complaints and agreed with Rawlings, Connor and Erbse that Thucydides exploited his usual narrative methods in Book VIII. He also refuted objections over supposed inconsistencies between the digression of ch. 45 – 54 and its context. Most importantly, Rood was the first to mention the presence of narrative postponements in Book VIII (see below, chapters 2 and 3).³⁸ In the same year, Mary Frances Williams appeared of a similar mind, concluding that, independently of the degree to which the book is incomplete, it is well linked to the other books on an ideological level. Moreover, Williams doubted whether Thucydides would have added speeches.³⁹ The same line of thinking with regard to the absence of speeches is detectable also in the last chapter of Emily Greenwood’s Thucydides and the Shaping of History.⁴⁰ In particular, Greenwood, who recognizes thematic and ideological affinities between Book VIII and Sophocles’ Philoctetes, argues that “rather than compose false speeches for the duplicitous agents of Book VIII, Thucydides uses reported speech, which enables him to offer a running commentary on the apparent motives that were concealed behind the speeches and actions”.⁴¹ Greenwood proceeds to suggest that the fragmentary character of the narrative, due to the constant change in the theatres of war, is a deliberate choice on the part of Thucydides, who intended his chaotic account to be a reflection of the complexity of contemporary international relations.⁴² The publication of the third volume of the COT clearly reflects how much our view of Book VIII has changed. From the very first pages, Simon Hornblower rejects Andrewes and endorses the view of Erbse and Rood that the book features all the Thucydidean techniques of coherence that are employed in the rest of the work. He also accepts Dewald’s theory that many of the recitative deviations of the book from the first five books should be attributed to Thucydides’ decision to change his modus narrandi from Book VI onwards.⁴³ In short, in Hornblower’s

 Erbse 1989, 1, 14– 15, 28 – 29, 41– 42, 49 – 66.  Rood 1998, 251– 252, 261– 262 n. 41, 263 n. 43, and 265 n. 49.  Williams 1998, 273, 291– 292.  Greenwood 2006, 83 – 108.  Greenwood 2006, 92.  Greenwood 2006, 85 ff. Cf. Pouncey 1980, 142– 143; Macleod 1983b, 141; Connor 1984, 214; Gribble 1998, 66.  Dewald 2005.

2 Objectives and methods

11

view, most of the book’s peculiarities can be explained by examining Thucydides’ narrative goals, and they by no means indicate that the author did not polish these chapters.⁴⁴ In conclusion, Kallet’s following words mirror the view of Book VIII today: “The results of scholars’ close examination of this final section of the History also suggest a third possibility: the book has some undeniable rough spots and curious features that may be best explained by the hypothesis that Thucydides had not entirely polished it to his final satisfaction, and the book has a narrative and thematic coherence and an intimate connection with the rest of the History.”⁴⁵

2 Objectives and methods Thus, after almost two centuries of arguments and counterarguments, the view that Book VIII lacks refinement is today no longer considered as self-evident as it was up until the middle of the last century. However, as stated at the beginning of the bibliographical survey, although many now scholars recognize the book’s narrative qualities, little effort has been made to define them in their structural and technical details. I will thus address the following remaining questions: a) What are the structural parts of Book VIII? Even though Dewald’s point that the narrative of the last three books has a continuous character is valid in many respects, the fact that an account is continuous does not, nevertheless, necessitate that it has not been divided by its author into subsections. I will argue that Thucydides divides Book VIII into two unequal subsections: the episode on the revolt of Chios (1– 24), and the section in ch. 25 – 107, the central goal of which is a decisive sea battle. b) How is each subsection internally arranged? Moreover, through which techniques does Thucydides move from the one to the other and how do the two sections relate to each other? c) How are these units related to the account of the previous years; and d) how would eventual additions have affected the overall arrangement of the book? In addition to answering these questions, my second aim in this study is to offer a narrative analysis that also provides answers to crucial points of the debate hitherto on Book VIII. The results of this treatise imply not only that Thucydides put into effect an overall narrative plan, but also that the description and the analysis of this plan may provide the answers to specific objections. In Chapter 1, for example, I argue that in ch. 1– 24 Thucydides composed a revolt episode

 COT III, 1– 4.  Kallet-Marx 2001, 227. With the exception of Heitsch (2007), who follows Andrewes.

12

Introduction

by purposely bringing the Chians to the foreground. The presentation of the techniques through which Thucydides emphasizes the Chians’ role not only proves that these chapters are very closely elaborated but also rebuts the judgment of Wilamowitz and Andrewes that Chios has a central place in this section ostensibly because Thucydides used exclusively Chian informants for these events. Accordingly, in Chapter 3, I demonstrate that the basic compositional technique of ch. 25 – 107 is narrative delay and, hopefully, thereby legitimize the place and function of controversial passages such as the digressions of ch. 45 – 54 and ch. 63 – 77 or the treaties between Sparta and Persia. As far as methodology is concerned, the course I took during this research was as follows: I initially proceeded with a close reading of the narrative in Book VIII, in order to discern possible indicators of its arrangement. The conclusion of this examination was that Thucydides organized his account on the basis not of place or subject but of the repetition or the absence of certain narrative schemes. I therefore conjectured that in order to discern the parts of the narrative and to understand what the leading subjects in each part are, we should seek the answer not in the seemingly central subjects themselves but in the techniques through which they are presented. For example, the Chians are to be considered the protagonists of the episode in ch. 1– 24 not because of the frequency in which they appear but due to the fact that their actions are stressed through a plethora of schemes. Inversely, the fact that we still find them in the spotlight until ch. 60 does not imply that they remain the center of interest in the same way as they were until ch. 24. The presence of certain other narrative schemes, such as the two comments in ch. 24 and ch. 60 or the recognitions in ch. 32.3 and ch. 45.4, which resemble tragedy, suggest that the Chians actually withdrew into the background (Chapters 1 and 3). I adopted the same principle also in my interpretation of the second unit of the book (25 – 107). Abandoning the view that from ch. 45 onwards Thucydides uses Alcibiades’ activity as the coherent axis of his narrative, I suggest instead that the central subject in this phase of the account is the final resolution, i. e. a decisive sea battle. Alcibiades’ actions are stressed by the narrator partly because they impede this resolution. In other words, if someone else’s activity served the deceleration of the route to the collision at Cynos Sema, Thucydides would have drawn attention to him and not to Alcibiades. Similarly, in my effort to approach the digressions of ch. 45 – 54 and ch. 63 – 77, I argue that the criterion which can do justice to Thucydides’ aims in composing them is not only their own subjects per se (diplomatic turmoil, inner politics of Athens) but also their narrative function. They, as do Alcibiades and many other elements, delay the final resolution, a decisive sea battle, which means that through

2 Objectives and methods

13

these digressions it is not only their subject that is stressed but also what they postpone (Chapter 3). The diplomatic turmoil, the prominent role of individuals such as Astyochus, Tissaphernes and Alcibiades, the coup of the 400 in Athens, all these elements, however important, do not serve as the ground whereupon Thucydides spins the thread of the story. From ch. 25 onwards, this heterogeneous information coheres under the shadow of a specific thematic axis, the eventuality of a decisive sea battle. If we try to see signs of coherence of time, place, and subjects in the book, then we will almost certainly find only its fragmentation. On the other hand, if we observe the techniques used, we will discover its excellent narrative integrity. This will enable us to understand that Thucydides did not choose place or subjects in order to organize his text – he could not have done so, anyway – but the repetition of specific narrative schemes, such as retardation, postponement, confirmation, through which he constantly prepares the reader for the great sea battle. Following Rawlings, Connor and Rood, I compare Book VIII with the rest of the work as regards techniques that have already been exploited. However, I also go further than this by examining possible affinities on a structural level, to which purpose I parallel the sections of the book with the relevant passages of the History. For example, I compare the revolt narrative of ch. 1– 24 with all revolt episodes in the History. The examination of all these episodes led me to conclude not only that Thucydides composes them all in almost the same way, but that this is the case in the Chios account too. Accordingly, when considering the two pivotal battle descriptions of ch. 25 – 107 (the battle of Miletus and the sea battle of Cynos Sema), I compared them with other Thucydidean battles and again judged that the military descriptions of Book VIII are not inferior to those in the other books. I followed the same method for ch. 25 – 107 and reached similar conclusions. The only difference in this case was that, while there were many parallels for the Chios narrative and the battles, chapters 25 – 107 belong to the wider unit (7.34– 8.107) on the Athenians’ recovery after their disaster in Sicily, whose sole twin lies in ch. 3.94.3 – 5.75.1 on the Spartans’ recovery after their defeat at Sphacteria. In this case, the comparison concerned only two samples.⁴⁶ My purpose is thus to show that Book VIII was elaborated in detail on a

 The comparison between these two units (3.94.3 – 5.75.1 and 7.34– 8.106.5) is not different from the other comparisons simply because I had only two samples at my disposal, but also because both sections go beyond the established division of the work into books. Therefore, aside from the fact that this recognition of the existence of a unit that extends into the last two books (7.34– 8.106.5) is in absolute agreement with Dewald’s theory, it also led me to approach the work by ignoring the traditional division.

14

Introduction

narrative level and that Thucydides arranged its plot on the basis of the stereotypical compositions that he had used in the rest of his work, and for which I prefer to use the term type-narrative. At this point, I should explain why I use the term ‘type’ in order to describe such narratives. As is well known, Thucydides composed the History in the belief that reading his work would help his audience interpret the present and anticipate the future. Motivated by his firm belief that human nature remains the same through time and that, consequently, similar human affairs and historical developments occur repeatedly (1.22.4; 3.82.2), he shaped the plot of the stories he narrated in such a way so as to help his readers appreciate the regularity of historical development.⁴⁷ For this reason, he molded several thematic motifs, such as the antithetical pair of chance and reason,⁴⁸ the unpredictable character of war,⁴⁹ the contradiction between military power on sea and land,⁵⁰ and the self-destructive desire for power.⁵¹ As has been argued, as a physicist or an ethnographer, he recognized within the course of history these topoi, whereupon he organized the plethora of the historical phenomena.⁵² Furthermore, by frequently repeating these motifs in the History, he aimed to offer the reader a stable framework within which to compare individuals and situations. Apart from thematic motifs of this kind, the unchanging character of human nature is also reflected in the stereotypical shape of the narrative itself, namely stereotypical narrative schemes, such as type-characters, similar events or even identical sequences of events⁵³ and focalizations, for example through a leader’s thoughts (“commander narrative” pattern).⁵⁴ It would be no exaggeration to consider the narrative organization of the History stereotypical. However, this term limits our ability to designate the nature of such narratives, as it refers only to the repetition of their motifs. The term type-narrative is preferable, as it provides a more flexible and in-depth penetration of the way in which Thucydides worked

 See Kallet (2006, 335) and Raaflaub (2013, 7), who justifiably conclude that Thucydides’ programmatic statements on the stability of human nature are highly revealing of the way the ancient author arranged his account.  Edmunds 1975.  Stahl 1966.  Connor 1984, 160.  Kallet 2006, 335.  Raaflaub 2013, 6.  Hunter 1973, 179 – 180.  Connor 1984, 105. We can find the same function in events with an exemplary character, such as the plague and the stasis on Corcyra, generalizations in the speeches, or even the manner of composing a continuous narration. See Raaflaub 2013, 7.

2 Objectives and methods

15

with such compositions in terms both of narrative organization and historiographical methodology: a. It correlates with the term typology, which, in scholarly terms, is the conductive method aiming at the systemization and classification of knowledge into research fields on the basis of certain types. In simple words, typology is the study and classification of people, phenomena or objects into types on the basis of their special features.⁵⁵ Thucydides, as stated above, classifies historical phenomena and events into types. In this study, I argue that for three of these types of historical phenomena he composes three corresponding stereotypical units (type-narratives) consisting of permanent features (motifs), type-narratives which he uses in Book VIII as well. In Chapter 1, I present the motifs of the revolt type-narrative and note how they can also be observed in the Chios account (8.1– 24). In Chapters 2 and 3, I give a step-by-step presentation of the usual sequence of the stages of the plot in type-narratives on military recovery in the two samples of ch. 3.94.3 – 5.75.1 and ch. 7.34 – 8.106.5. Such a presentation, as will be argued, also helps to explain the arrangement of ch. 8.25 – 107, which constitutes part of the second sample. In chapter 4, I identify motifs of Thucydidean battle descriptions in the accounts of the battles of Miletus and Cynos Sema. b. Another reason for choosing the term type-narrative for the stereotypical compositions in Thucydides is that they function in a similar manner as the Homeric type-scenes.⁵⁶ In Homer, the xenia, the warrior’s preparation,

 Concerning the field of historiography, Hayden White (1973, 17), referring to typological history, defines its goal thus: “… a Mechanist […] studies history in order to divine the laws that actually govern its operations and writes history in order to display in a narrative form the effects of those laws. […] Ultimately, for the Mechanist, an explanation is considered complete only when he has discovered the laws that are presumed to govern history in the same way that the laws of physics are presumed to govern nature.”  On the Homeric influences on Thucydides’ work, see Fornara 1983, 30 ff.; Macleod 1983b on Thucydides’ and Euripides’ relationship to Homer; Bowie 1993; Allison 1997; on the Homeric origins of the omniscient historical narrator, see Marincola 1997; Rood 1998, 1 and 3; Lendon 2000; Kallet-Marx 2001, 97 with bibliography; Nicolai 2001. On the Homeric character of Brasidas’ aristeia at Pylos and Amphipolis, see Howie 2005 (with further bibliography on 208 n. 4); Morrison 2006a, 18; Rengakos 2006, 279 – 300; on the epic origins of the narrative delay, see Rogkotis 2006, 65 – 71 with further bibliography; on speeches, see Marincola 2007b, 118 – 132; cf. Scardino 2007, 2 and 46 – 55; Porciani 2007, 329; on Thucydides as a continuator of epic as source of examples (military, political, behavioral), see Nicolai 2007, 16 ff.; Hornblower 2009, 60 – 88; Foster 2010, 7. On the Homeric punishment of the Corcyrians’ hubris in Book I, see Foster 2010, 49 – 50; On the catalogue of the allies of the Corinthians in their first sea battle as an imitation of the

16

c.

Introduction

or a ritual before the battle, are a few examples from among many Homeric scenes the description of which maintains a stereotypical structure. In the case of xenia, for example, whether the guest is Athena in Odysseus’ palace or Priam in Achilles’ tent, the structural parts of the scene are, mutatis mutandis, the same: a) the stranger appears in front of the host, b) the host orders his servants to lavish on the visitor the necessary ministrations, c) the description of which follows, while, eventually, d) the guest has a discussion with the host and reveals to him the reasons for his visit. Such a structural stability in terms of plot – apart from verse – is meant when we characterize such scenes as typical. ⁵⁷ A similarity between the type-narratives in Thucydides and the type-scenes in Homer is the generic categorization of humans, nature and affairs.⁵⁸ Whether the composer of the epics is supposed to have been the people, with the aoidoi as their forwarders, or an inspired poet like Homer, the procedure by which the observation of affairs mutated into a stereotypical narrative whole presupposes categorization: The poet observes human affairs and realizes that each of them has its own special and, therefore, distinctive features. He then elaborates on and memorizes these features, while isolating the most significant of them. He finally transmutes the human affair into the corresponding type-scene and its distinctive features into the stereotypical motifs of the scene. An analogous way of conception and composition is also discernible in the way Thucydides worked on the historical development. The historian, like an aoidos, composes his own stereotypical narrative formulas for the historical phenomena. The arrangement of the History testifies that, after observing the facts, he grouped them into categories (revolts, battles, sieges, negotiations, etc.). Afterwards, he focused on the nature and the structure of each category. This stage must have taken him many years of observation, of collection of all the representative examples of each category, and of meditation on its nature and structure.⁵⁹ The final stage of the process toward the narrative production was the selection of

Homeric catalogue, ibid., 52 and Luginbill 2011, 3; Bakker de 2013, 26 on the single clause judgments on individuals.  On the introduction of the term ‘type-scene’ and other related terms in Homer, see Edwards 1975, 51– 53 and n. 10 with further bibliography.  On this function of the Homeric type-scenes, see Notopoulos 1950; Nagler 1974, 70.  Kagan 2009, 30.

2 Objectives and methods

17

the main factors of each category and their transformation into permanent parts of the type-narrative. ⁶⁰ d. Both in Homer and Thucydides, although in a different sense, typicality means guidance through cumulative memorization.⁶¹ In the epics, the type-scenes, through their repeated appearance, resemble one another, helping in this way not only the singer to recall them⁶² but also the listener to understand that what he is listening to is a type-scene. Similarly, in Thucydides, the more the reader watches a type-narrative recurring, the more he or she realizes through cohesions the message hidden in this narrative repetition, namely that history repeats itself. e. Moreover, typicality creates specific expectations for the audience. As Elizabeth Greene points out, by including or excluding a motif of a type-scene, Homer helps the audience foresee the story ending.⁶³ This is the case in the History as well. For example, as will be demonstrated in Chapter 4, Thucydides often prepares the reader for a battle by presenting the route of the armies to the point of their camp. In the two postponements before the battle of Mantinea, he narrates each time the route taken by the troops and their placement in the battlefield. The reader, having been prepared by the work that in such cases a battle usually follows, expects the armies to collide. For this reason, the postponement of the battle is even more unexpected. In other words, the stereotypical motifs of the type-narratives in Thucydides are inklings of what follows, which are confirmed or accentuate our surprise, when what they oblige us to wait for is deferred. f. I must mention one more feature of the type-narratives in Thucydides, which, more than anything, may help us detect their existence. Donald Fry, referring to the type-scenes in Homer, defines this feature as follows: the type-scene is “a recurring stereotyped presentation of conventional details used to describe a certain narrative event, requiring neither verbatim repetition nor a specific formula content”.⁶⁴ Similarly, in Thucydides we do not need to seek out verbal repetitions in order to find type-narratives. In many cases, they are recurrences merely of meaning.

 Cf. Connor (1985, 9), who notes that one of Thucydides’ most characteristic features is the profound similarity between cognate episodes.  On this subject in Homer, see Arend 1933, 26; Fenik 1968, 5; Krischer 1971, 18; Tsagarakis 1982, 49 – 50; Gainsford 2001, 7.  Arend 1933, 2; Lord 1951; Hainsworth 1966, 159 and n. 4 with further bibliography on typescenes and memory/memorization in Homer; Gunn 1971.  Greene 1995, 217. Cf. Bowra 1930, 96; Arend 1933, 19; Calhoun 1933, 10 – 11; Nagler 1974, 66.  Fry 1968, 53.

18

Introduction

To conclude, by claiming that a certain section of the History constitutes a typenarrative, I mean that its stereotypical character reflects Thucydides’ method of categorizing the historical phenomena. Moreover, I mean that its typicality is the means for Thucydides to share with the audience his conviction that history repeats itself. For this reason, type-narratives are not to be considered merely as facilitating expression and composition,⁶⁵ but as distilling the author’s inductive insight into the events. This thought is notably essential for Book VIII, because, following this logic, the presence of type-narratives in the book belies the widespread opinion that Thucydides never achieved a penetrating interpretation of the Ionian war. Finally, the typicality of these narratives does not necessarily lie in expressional repetitions (although they are very frequent), but in the systematic reiteration of the same diachronic historical factors. The present book is made up of four chapters plus general conclusions. In Chapter 1, I analyze the arrangement of the first 24 chapters of Book VIII in comparison to the revolt type-narratives in the rest of the work. I argue that these chapters form a type-narrative on the Chian revolt. I will also demonstrate certain techniques of coherence in this unit, while in the last part of the chapter I explain how Thucydides connected it to the wider plot of his oeuvre. In Chapters 2 and 3, I elaborate on the narrative arrangement of ch. 25 – 107. My purpose is to show that these chapters constitute a long-scale section, which at the same time belongs to an even longer account on the Athenians’ recovery from their defeat in Sicily up to their victory in the sea battle at Cynos Sema. As will hopefully transpire from my argumentation, we also find a similar account concerning the Spartans’ recovery from their defeat at Sphacteria until their victory at Mantineia. Both narratives are comprised of the same parts: a) preparation of the reader for the defeat; b) the defeat itself; c) the description of the low morale among the vanquished; d) the events which prove this atmosphere; e) the retardation before the recovery; and f) the eventual revival in the ultimate battle. Chapter 2 constitutes a comparative examination of these stereotypical

 For this reason, Ι disagree with those, characterized by Strassler (1996, xiii) as “modern cynics”, who consider Thucycides’ literary virtues as means for the deception of the audience. Thucydides does not use literary means, in order merely to convince the readers covertly, but mainly in order to reveal to them his own interpretation of the events. Some of those basing their criticism of Thucycides’ reliability on the literary aspects of the History, are De Croix 1954, 3; Hunter 1973; Cawkwell 1997, 4– 5; Kagan 2009; Luginbill 2011, x. On positive approaches, see Lateiner 1989, 6; for further bibliography see Debnar (20044, 20 – 23 and 23 n. 87), who defends the possibility of the co-existence of history and literature (20 – 23); Sommer 2006, 58, 79 – 88; Marincola 2007a I, 2– 4; Schwinge 2008, 9 n. 2– 3 with bibliography on the theoretical discussion on the relation between historiography and narrative; Christodoulou 2013, 226.

2 Objectives and methods

19

parts in both narratives, except the fifth (retardation), which will be analyzed in Chapter 3. In Chapter 4, I focus on the two battles framing the narrative unit of ch. 25 – 107. These are the battle of Miletus in ch. 25 and the sea battle of Cynos Sema in ch. 106. I first present some motifs of Thucydidean battles, which can be traced in these two test cases. Furthermore, I explain the functions of the two battles, both in the arrangement of Book VIII as well as in the wider plot of the History. For Thucydides’ text, I follow the Jones / Powell edition (OCT).

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24) It is widely acknowledged that one of the main themes of Book VIII is Athens’ relations with its allies,¹ a fact that has been suggested as an explanation for the author’s shift toward alternative narrative modes. According to this view, Thucydides consciously depicts the complexity of international relations through a chaotic account.² Other commentators have paralleled the anti-Athenian struggle of the Ionian city-states with the Ionian revolts against the Persians in Herodotus.³ Heitsch also recognized that this international impasse is the main subject of the book.⁴ Indeed, in Book VIII the issue of Athens’ relations with its allies becomes, more than ever, an issue of vital importance. The allies had never been so hopeful that they could finally, and once and for all, get rid of the Athenians. The Sicilian disaster had conveyed the impression that Athens had collapsed and that, if the Greeks formed a confederation with the Spartans, they could quite effortlessly and quickly strike the final blow to the remains of the Periclean construct. Given that in Thucydides’ mind the international arena is nothing but a world of alliances, it makes sense that he focuses on international relations now more than ever before, because the possibilities for dismantling the bipolar system of Peloponnesian League/Athenian League seem to have noticeably increased.⁵ Throughout his work, Thucydides has shown how critical he considers the issue of the two leagues: In front of the Spartan assembly, the Athenians defend themselves for having established their hegemony (1.73 – 77); the Corinthians insist, in an ironically sanguine way, that depriving Athens of its allies can be seen as one of the most effective ways to win the war (1.122). In another pair of speeches, by Cleon and Diodotus, Thucydides penetrates this very issue by examining which strategy would be the most profitable for Athens in the eventual efforts made by its tributaries to revolt (3.37– 48). In the Pathology, he

 Mewes 1868, 6; Rawlings 1981, 176 – 215; Connor 1984, 211; Forde 1989, 116 – 139; Rood (1998, 252– 253) sees the narrative in Book VIII as a representation of the Athenians’ struggle to survive and maintain their allies in the Aegean; cf. Williams 1998, 278 – 280; Kallet-Marx 2001.  Wade-Gery 1952, 4; Macleod 1983b, 141; Greenwood 2006, 153; Rechenauer 2011, 241– 260; Hawthorn 2014, 202– 203. Cf. Introduction 10 n. 42.  Kallet-Marx 2001, 229.  Heitsch 2007, vi.  On Thucydides’ approach to the ancient Greek world from the perspective of the duality Athens-Sparta, see Vlassopoulos 2007, 201 ff. DOI 10.1515/9783110533071-002

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

21

deals with the effects of the two hegemonic alliances on the internal politics of the city-states (3.82.1), whereas in the Archaeology he provides a description of the nature of the oppression exercised by each side: the Spartans impose constitutions, the Athenians demand money (1.19). Even the opening of the war is introduced with a tally of the allies on each side (2.9). In Book VIII, the danger that this bipolar allied world will collapse seems to have reached its climax. This danger is presented through a total of six cases in the whole work, specifically the cases of Potidaea (1.56 – 65), Acarnania (2.80 – 82),⁶ Lesbos (3.2– 19 and 25 – 51), Thrace and Brasidas (4.78 – 88 and 102– 116), the revolts against Sparta (5.25 – 85) and of Chios in ch. 1– 24 of Book VIII. In this chapter, I contend that Thucydides composed the first part of Book VIII, the narrative on the revolt of Chios, by using the same technique that he uses in all revolt type-narratives, that is whenever he recalls times when the bipolar world of alliances was disrupted. By saying that Thucydides always employs the same technique, I mean that he composes a type-narrative consisting of fixed (stylistic, thematic, and narrative) elements. Through their repetition, he invites the reader to perceive that history repeats itself and that, by reading the History, we will then be in a position to interpret the present and foresee the future.⁷ The appearance of the fixed motifs of revolt type-narratives in the Chios episode provides strong evidence that these first twenty-four chapters were arranged as carefully as the other narratives of this kind. Consequently, the view described above, according to which the complexity of international relations compelled Thucydides to resort to new narrative modes in Book VIII, must be rejected, at least as regards these twenty-four chapters. The Chios section is exactly the same as all its counterparts. In Thucydides, narrative typicality reflects historical regularity. The historian had discerned some ‘transhistorical truths’,⁸ which, in his mind, diachronically condition international developments and spawn ‘behavioral regularities’⁹ in interstate relations. The presence of these ‘atemporal maxims’¹⁰ of the international arena in the History has been examined by modern scholars of international  Although it did not bring the desired outcomes, The Peloponnesian attack in Acarnania was planned, according to Thucydides, to cause the revolts of the Acarnanian cities from the Athenian alliance (᾿Aθηναίων ἀποστῆσαι), which is why I included it in the test cases. Besides, the very presence of the motifs of such episodes in this account is by itself suggestive of the fact that Thucydides chose to narrate it in a way that leads the reader to relate it to the revolt episodes of the History.  See Introduction, pp. 14– 19.  Welch 2003, 303; Korab-Karpowicz 2006, 232.  Forde 1995, 145; Cf. Raaflaub 2013: ‘typical behavior’.  Halliday 19962, 39.

22

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

relations, primarily realists.¹¹ The exponents of this intellectual strand, who consider Thucydides the founder of their theory, rely on the generalizations in both the speeches and in Thucydides’ own comments on the unchanging character of human nature in order to decode the system of values pertaining to the international relations of the History. Thucydides, they conclude, believed in the existence of such diachronic laws that control the basic mechanism of historical development. These laws are considered global truths and as revealing the atemporal maxims that render the past with diachronic value and thus useful for those attempting to interpret the present and anticipate the future. The realist theory in the studies of international relations, as it has hitherto been shaped, is usually divided into traditional realism and neorealism (or structural realism). While traditional realists argue that repetitions in history originate from human needs,¹² such as personal interest, honor, egoism (which, on a political level, is manifested as lust for power¹³), a fighting spirit and the eternal need for freedom,¹⁴ neorealists add that the diachronic stability of the international arena stems not only from these human characteristics but also from certain non-human laws, anarchy being the most characteristic of them. International affairs, being anarchic and therefore unpredictable, compel countries to act under the influence of fear,¹⁵ the result being that the central characteristic of their interactions is mutual distrust.¹⁶ Furthermore, each state, defined by its own place in this anarchic arena, sacrifices every moral value, in order, if not to rule over others, then at least to protect itself from both external and internal threats.¹⁷ International affairs are influenced by the natural tendency of the strong to rule the weak.¹⁸ Indeed, Thucydides seems to believe that, if we were to acknowledge the presence of these atemporal maxims, then we will discover some general laws of human behavior. However, while realists construct this view on the basis of the speeches and the well-known personal comments of Thucydides on

 On Thucydides and realism, see De Croix 1972, 11– 25; Doyle 1990; Forde 1992; Forde 1995; Ahrensdorf 1997 (with further bibliography on p. 232 n. 2); Boucher 1998; Bedford 2001; Kokatz 2001.  Traditional realists are Carr 1939; Morgenthau 1946 and 19542; Kennan 1985/1986, 205 – 218. Cf. Forde’s (1995, 145 – 146) survey.  Morgenthau 1946, 191– 201; Morgenthau 19542, 3 – 4, 29.  Ahrensdorf 1997, 247 ff., and ibid n. 47 with further bibliography.  Forde 1995, 142– 148; Ahrensdorf 1997, 241– 243; Welch 2003, 306 ff.  Korab-Karpowicz 2006, 234.  On security as a factor in international relations, see Ahrensdorf 1997, 234 n. 6 with further bibliography.  Meiggs 1972, 388; HCT I, 172.

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

23

human nature, they overlook the fact that the historian also attempted to reveal the regularity of historical development in the narrative itself, in particular through type-narratives on revolts, i. e. the disruption of the bipolarity of his era.¹⁹ The basic motifs of the revolt type-narrative include some of those cited by realists: a) the strategic value of an influential city; b) fear; c) secret negotiations; and d) the urgent need to take rapid precautions. As will be argued in the following pages, these motifs can be traced in all the revolt type-narratives of the History, including the Chios episode in Book VIII (1– 24). Before the analysis of the revolt type-narrative, I will explain why ch. 1– 24 are to be considered an independent revolt episode: First, the episode is thematically framed by a ring-composition, which is shaped by its beginning and closure, and underlines the central subject of these chapters, i. e. the Chians and their false hopes that they will free themselves from the Athenians. The section is thereby separated from the rest of the account. The characterization of the Chians in the epilogue is the most powerful argument that ch. 24 is the end of a section. Thucydides here exploits for a city the technique he uses for individuals, namely the composition of the obituary of someone who dies or withdraws, with the comment being the epilogue of the unit dedicated to this particular individual.²⁰ Second, after ch. 24, the motifs of the revolt type-narratives gradually recede. Third, just as in every narrative of this kind, Thucydides does not pay attention to battles here, and merely mentions them without giving a detailed description. The description, therefore, of the battle of Miletus immediately after the end of the episode (8.25) does not belong to it but marks – in a way which will be analyzed in the next two chapters – the opening of the next section. From this battle onwards, Thucydides focuses on the eventual result of the final resolution, a great sea battle. In order to achieve his goal, he will employ, among other means, the repetition of verbal compounds beginning with the prefix διά-, which, however, are totally absent from the Chios narrative. Fourth, after ch. 24, Thucydides takes advantage of certain techniques, in a very careful manner, in order to show to the reader that the episode is already over. Fifth, the thread of the story in ch. 25 – 107 unfolds by means of a typescheme (retardation, postponement, gradation, confirmation) different from

 On the differences between Thucydides and the realist/neorealist theory, see Forde 1995; Kauppi 1996; Rahe 1996; Ahrensdorf 1997; Welch 2003.  On Thucydides’ concluding comments on individuals, see Bakker 2013, 30. In choosing to compose an episode for the Chians as an introduction to the Ionian war, Thucydides takes account of the general view of the Athenians on the significance of the Chians for their hegemony. See Proctor (1980, 1) on passages in Aristophanes testifying such a view.

24

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

the revolt type-narrative of ch. 1– 24. Sixth, at this point of the story, Thucydides focuses more on the revolts than he does from ch. 25 onwards. This can also be seen in the fact that, although here he narrates the revolts through a linear account, by relating the defections of Cnidus and Ephesos in ch. 25 – 107 in short flashbacks, he leaves them in the background.²¹ This chapter is divided into three parts: first, I present the motifs of the revolt type-narrative. I trace them in the Chios episode, which I use as a case study, and thereby attempt to give a response to specific objections made by other scholars. Second, given that in ch. 1– 24 there are some seemingly sketchy passages, I scrutinize them in the light of the techniques of coherence used in the Chios episode. In the third part, I describe how Thucydides connected this episode to the plot of the previous books. In other words, in this chapter I will argue that the Chios narrative: a) contains all the motifs of the Thucydidean revolt type-narratives; b) is skillfully organized with certain techniques of coherence; and, c) is closely associated with the preceding account.

1 The motifs of the revolt type-narratives in the case of Chios (8.1 – 24) Before presenting the motifs, a summary of the Chios narrative would be useful. Thucydides opens his account by delineating the situation in Greece immediately after the Athenian catastrophe in Sicily: The Athenians, although overwhelmed by the tragedy in Sicily, are well aware of the fact that they no longer have the luxury of inactivity. Knowing that their failure has opened the bag of Aeolus’ winds, they begin feverish preparations in order to forestall any potential revolts on the part of their allies.²² On the opposite side, the Spartans observe the diplomatic developments with great pleasure: First, the Euboeans and the Lesbians approach King Agis in Deceleia, while the Chians and the Erythreans reach Sparta. At the same time, Persia, represented by Tissaphernes and Pharnabazus, joins the diplomatic

 See COT III, 849 on the non-linear narration of these two revolts.  The Athenians’ preparations are mentioned repeatedly in ch. 1 and ch. 4, which led Andrewes (HCT V, 11) to believe that, in a hypothetical revision Thucydides would have omitted such repetitions. Although Wilamowitz (1908, 579 – 581) rightly mentioned that the doublet cannot prove imperfection, his parallels (1.146//2.1 and 5.39//5.40.1– 2) are not felicitous. We should better compare the repetition between ch. 1 and ch. 4 to that between ch. 3.115.5 – 6 and ch. 4.2.2.

1 The motifs of the revolt type-narratives in the case of Chios (8.1 – 24)

25

game against Athens. Eventually, under Alcibiades’ influence, the Spartans decide to give priority to Chios (8.1– 6).²³ At the beginning of the following summer, the Spartans gave the 39 ships at Corinth the green light to sail to Chios. The plan was in three parts: a) a mission to Chios with Chalcideus as commander; b) then to Lesbos under the leadership of Alcamenes; and c) to the Hellespont under the command of Clearchus. As for the mission to Chios, it was initially decided to send the ships in two phases, in order to confuse the Athenians. The preparations for the expedition were, however, generally superficial as the Peloponnesians had underestimated the Athenians (8.7– 8). Thus, while the Corinthians were further delayed due to the Isthmian Games, over which they presided, the Athenians eventually took notice of what was happening. Subsequently, during a sea battle at Speiraeon, in Corinthian territory, they succeeded not only in stemming the first naval mission to Chios but also in killing its commander, Alcamenes. The Spartans lost their nerve, but Alcibiades persuaded them not to call off the mission but instead to send him along with Chalcideus to Chios (8.9 – 12). The two men arrived on the island and detached it from the Athenian League. Erythrae and Clasomenae immediately followed the example of their neighbors, while the Athenians, as soon as they were informed of the facts, sent Strombichides to Samos. The latter, although chasing after Alcibiades and Chalcideus, was unable to prevent them from causing one further revolt, that of Miletus, which was then followed by the first treaty between Sparta and Persia (8.14– 18). After this, the Chians lost four out of their ten ships in a battle against the Athenians at Anaea. Nevertheless, without losing heart, they undertook the organization of Lesbos’ revolt. The Spartan admiral Astyochus, who had just arrived in Ionia, rushed to help them, but the Athenians again forestalled their enemies’ plans, and in the same summer killed Chalcideus during a clash at Miletus. They then landed on Chios and besieged it (8.19 – 24). The motifs of the revolt type-narratives, which also appear in the Chios account, are as follows: i. Key cities. The first motif is the strategic importance of one or more cities for the surrounding area. Thucydides always brings the matter to the foreground through the same syllogism: if the powerful city revolts, then its neighbors will follow. In ch. 56 – 65 of Book I, the Corinthians and the Macedonian king Perdiccas jointly organize the defection of the Thracians from the Athenian alliance. Potidaea has the central role. According to Thucydides, the Athenians, immedi-

 In addition to introducing the whole Ionian war, these chapters are also part of the Chios episode. See Wilamowitz 1908, 582.

26

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

ately after winning a sea battle at Sybota against the Corinthians, target Potidaea because they fear that its citizens will revolt and rouse the coterminous cities. Similarly, Perdiccas colludes with the Chalcidians and the Bottiaeans in the hope that, if these cities are on his side, he will be more effective against the Athenians. In Book II, during their failed effort to detach Acarnania from the Athenian empire (2.80 – 82), the Ambraciots and the Chaonians ask the Spartans for help, arguing that a potential defection of Acarnania from Athens would very probably mean that Zacynthus, Cephallonia and even Naupactus will follow (2.80.1). When the Peloponnesian army enters Acarnania, they initially decide to attack Stratus, the most powerful city in Acarnania, in the belief that if they bring it under their control, the other cities will follow (2.80.8). In the Lesbos narrative (3.2– 19 and 25 – 51), Thucydides stresses the significance of the island for the preservation of the Athenian hegemony by focusing on the feelings of the Athenians themselves. As soon as they are informed of the Lesbians’ concerted revolt, they become very anxious because they believe that having such a strong enemy would be a great burden for them (3.3.1). The Lesbian envoys, for their part, try to convince the Peloponnesians to send ships by explaining that if the Spartans help Lesbos against Athens, they will be in possession of a very powerful naval city, which will inspire the rest of the Ionians to revolt (3.13.7). In Book IV, Thucydides narrates how Brasidas put out feelers to the Thracian allies of Athens in an effort to bring them into the Spartan fold (4.78 – 88, 102– 116). In this case, Amphipolis is the key city. As with the previous examples, Amphipolis’ revolt is the main reason – in addition to Brasidas’ ingenious diplomacy – that the other Thracians dared leave the Athenian alliance (4.108.1– 3). In Book V, Mantinea (5.29.2) and Tegea (5.32.3 – 4) are the key cities during the gradual dissolution of the Spartan hegemony. Last comes the narrative of the Chios revolt in Book VIII. Thucydides’ syllogism remains the same: The Athenians are afraid that the Ionians will follow Chios’ example (8.15.1). Apart from its similarity on a syllogistic level – i. e. the powerful city causes the revolts of its smaller neighbors – the case of Chios resembles the other examples linguistically.²⁴ For Stratus, we read πόλιν μεγίστην (2.80.8). Concerning Lesbos, the Athenians consider the danger μέγα ἔργον (3.3.1), while for Amphipolis ἐς μέγα δέος κατέστησαν (4.108.1). Accordingly, the Corinthians think that Tegea is μέγα μέρος (5.32.3), and in Chios’ narrative the Athenians felt a μέγαν κίνδυνον given that they have to deal with a μεγίστης πόλεως (8.15.1). The concept of magnitude is present in all the examples.

 On verbal similarities between typical narratives in Thucydides see also Romilly 1956, 42– 47.

1 The motifs of the revolt type-narratives in the case of Chios (8.1 – 24)

27

Another observation, however, is more interesting due to its importance for our understanding the narrative organization of 8.1– 24. In some of the cases above, the focus on the key city is particularly intense. In the story of Potidaea, the strategic position of the Thracian cities, with the Athenians (δείσαντες) and Perdiccas (νομίζων) being the focalizers, serves as the fount of the majority of the tactical movements, thereby unifying the whole episode. The city’s role for Thrace is also emphasized by the fact that the battle of Potidaea is the culmination of this episode.²⁵ One could say the same about the Acarnanian episode. From the very first comment on the key city of Stratus until the end of his narration, Thucydides focuses exclusively on this μεγίστην city. From ch. 2.83 onwards, he offers no further detail as regards the situation in the rest of Acarnania, and passes to the sea battles of Patrae and Naupactus (2.83 – 92). Thucydides obviously omits anything that does not concern the key city. Therefore, one might justifiably conclude that the omission of information due to the focus on the key city is usual in Thucydides’ revolt narrations, and this may explain the Chians’ dominant presence in 8.1– 24 more satisfactorily than Wilamowitz’s and Andrewes’ conjecture that the information on the episode comes exclusively from Chian informants. ii. Fear. The place of a city in the anarchic world of diplomacy determines its fate. In addition, the chaotic situation of international relations spreads fear. It has justifiably been argued that the most prevalent and constant factor in the History is fear, an emotion which unifies all political phenomena to such a degree that, from this perspective, the whole work turns out to be continuous speculation about this emotion.²⁶ Fear, just like hope, is present in almost every decision. In Thucydides, it is the preponderant regulator of human behavior.²⁷ Fear is a motif of the revolt narratives as well, being the most important source of moves on Thucydides’ diplomatic chessboard. From the first chapter of the Chian episode, Thucydides describes the psychological situation in Athens when the news of the Sicilian disaster arrives (8.1.1– 4). The atmosphere of fear that is created from the very beginning of the narrative casts the Athenians’ consequent efforts under a shadow of agony and timorousness. The enemies of the Athenians feel quite the same. The Chians anxiously wait for forty Peloponnesian ships, fearing that the Athenians will forestall their attempts (8.7). Still, the Spartans send the ships, though delayed due to their fear (8.11.3). The reader ob-

 Rademaker/Buijs 2011, 115 – 138.  Romilly 1956, 119 – 127; Proctor 1980, 177– 191; Crane 1996; Desmond 2006, 359 – 360; Luginbill 2011, 39 – 59, 73 – 75, 86 – 88, 102– 103, 153 – 155, 186 – 187, 193 – 194.  Forde 1995, 147– 148; Ahrensdorf 1997, 241– 243; Luginbill 1999, 65 – 81; Chittick/FreybergInan 2001, 69 – 90; Welch 2003, 304 and 306 f.; Waltz 2011, 270, 389 n. 10.

28

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

serves exactly the same situation in the rest of the revolt episodes as well, as the following table shows: Book I: δείσαντες (..); δεδιώς (..); δεδιότες περὶ τῷ χωρίῳ (..); δεδιότες Revolts of the μὴ σφίσιν οἱ Ποτειδαιᾶται καὶ οἱ ξύμμαχοι γενομένοις δίχα ἐπιθῶνται (..) Thracian cities Book III: Revolts of Mytilene

δείσαντες (..); φοβούμενοι μὴ οὐχ ἱκανοὶ ὦσι Λέσβῳ πάσῃ πολεμεῖν (..); οὐκ ἀδεεῖς ἔτι ἦμεν (..); τὸ δὲ ἀντίπαλον δέος μόνον πιστὸν ἐς ξυμμαχίαν (..); τό τε ναυτικὸν ἡμῶν παρεῖχέ τινα φόβον μή ποτε καθ’ ἓν γενόμενον ἢ ὑμῖν ἢ ἄλλῳ τῳ προσθέμενον κίνδυνον σφίσι παράσχῃ (..); οἱ μὲν ἡμᾶς ἐν τῷ πολέμῳ δεδιότες ἐθεράπευον, ἡμεῖς δὲ ἐκείνους ἐν τῇ ἡσυχίᾳ τὸ αὐτὸ ἐποιοῦμεν· ὅ τε τοῖς ἄλλοις μάλιστα εὔνοια πίστιν βεβαιοῖ, ἡμῖν τοῦτο ὁ φόβος ἐχυρὸν παρεῖχε, δέει τε τὸ πλέον ἢ φιλίᾳ κατεχόμενοι ξύμμαχοι ἦμεν (..); ἐκφοβῆσαι (..); καὶ τὸ ἡμέτερον δέος βούλεται (..); μέγα τὸ δέος ἐγένετο (..)

Book IV: δείσαντες οἵ τε ἐπὶ Θρᾴκης ἀφεστῶτες ᾿Aθηναίων καὶ Περδίκκας ἐξήγαγον τὸν Revolts of the στρατόν … Περδίκκας φοβούμενος²⁸ δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς τὰ παλαιὰ διάφορα τῶν Thracian cities ᾿Aθηναίων (..); διὰ τοῦ καρποῦ τὸ δέος ἔτι ἔξω ὄντος (..); περὶ τοῦ καρποῦ φόβῳ (..); δεδιὼς καὶ τὴν ἀπὸ τῆς Θάσου τῶν νεῶν βοήθειαν (..);²⁹ πρὸς τὸν φόβον (..); ἐς μέγα δέος κατέστησαν/ἐφοβοῦντο (..) Book V: δεδιότες τοὺς Λακεδαιμονίους (..); φοβούμενοι οἱ πολλοὶ ὥρμηντο πρὸς Peloponnesian τοὺς ᾿Aργείους (..); ὠρρώδησαν (..); δεδιότες (..); ἔδεισαν μὴ revolts μονωθῶσι (..); φοβούμενοι (..); δείσαντες (..); οἱ δὲ Ὀρχομένιοι δείσαντες … ξυνέβησαν (..)

 Hornblower (COT II, 48) finds it strange that Perdiccas is among the first six men for whom Thucydides used so many participles in order to reveal their motives (cf. Lang 1995, 47– 65). One of the reasons is certainly that Perdiccas is the protagonist in two defection episodes, with his motives touching on two of the topoi of the revolt type-narratives: the key cities, and fear. Moreover, in the account on Brasidas’ activity in Thrace, Perdiccas is immediately associated with the supplies of the Spartan army, a subject of great importance in Thucydides’ mind.  δεδιώς. Westlake (1985, 333) presumes that in 4.105.1 Brasidas was Thucydides’ informant on his own feelings. This is not necessarily the case. In the events at Amphipolis and Eione, the two men were enemies, for which reason I doubt that Thucydides would have been able to approach Brasidas during this period. Even if we assume that the two men met each other somewhere between Thucydides’ condemnation and Brasidas’ death, it is again questionable whether the latter was willing to reveal his strategic thoughts to an enemy. In general, concerning the capture of Amphipolis, it would be more economical to be sceptical as to whether Brasidas was one of Thucydides’ sources, given that Thucydides’ description in this case seems to be partly motivated by his need to defend himself for the loss of the city. Cf. HCT III, 584– 587; Ellis 1978, 31– 35; Wylie 1992, 83; COT II, 38; Badian 1999, 17 ff.

1 The motifs of the revolt type-narratives in the case of Chios (8.1 – 24)

29

Book VIII: περιειστήκει ἐπὶ τῷ γεγενημένῳ φόβος (..); πρὸς τὸ παραχρῆμα περιδεές Revolt of Chios (..); δεδιότων μὴ οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι τὰ πρασσόμενα αἴσθωνται (.); ἀθυμήσαντες (..)

iii. Secret negotiations. Fear brings distrust between states.³⁰ For this reason, a further permanent characteristic of the Thucydidean revolts is the secret negotiations of the aspiring defectors with Athens and Sparta. In order to succeed in leaving the one or the other side, the Greek cities secretly send ambassadors to Sparta, while at the same time they parley with the Athenians in Attica. In the Potidaea episode, the city’s deputies visit Athens, in order to dissuade the Athenians from imposing preventive measures. However, as the Potidaeans suspect that they will not achieve anything positive in Athens, they simultaneously send other emissaries to Sparta, in order to secure help from the Peloponnese (1.58.1).³¹ In Book III, the Mytilenaeans prepare their revolt in secret, although the Tenedians, the Methymnaeans, and some of their own citizens reveal the facts to the Athenians (3.2.3). After the Athenian fleet arrived at the island in order to suppress the revolt, the Mytilenaeans visit Attica and try to convince the Athenians to withdraw from their land, while other Mytilenaeans are secretly sent to Sparta, as it was clear that their compatriots would not be able to persuade the Athenians (3.4.5). In Brasidas’ case in Thrace, the anti-Athenian tendency not only in Thrace but also in Perdiccas’ court is covered in secrecy, due to the fear that everyone has of the Athenians (4.79.2; 108.3). The same situation is described in the Chian narrative as well (8.7). In the information given on the secret negotiations, Thucydides implicitly expresses a bitter irony about the hopes of those who wish to revolt. Their efforts to keep their plans secret are always belied by the plot development. The historian thereby reveals the vanity of the conviction held by Athens’ allies that the Spartans are in a position to free them from Athens. More specifically, concerning the events in Thrace in Book IV, there is an antithesis between the adverb κρύφα and the phrase ὧν αἰσθόμενοι οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι (4.108.6). The way in which Thucydides works on this motif in Book VIII reveals a high degree of narrative elaboration. Here, the same antithesis is artfully built through an escalation of information, which begins as the fear of the Chians (8.7: δεδιότων μὴ οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι τὰ πρασσόμενα αἴσθωνται), turns into the partial knowledge of the Athenians (8.9.2: διατριβῆς ἐγγιγνομένης, οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι ᾐσθάνοντο; 8.10.1: καὶ κατάδηλα μᾶλλον αὐτοῖς τὰ

 Korab-Karpowicz 2006, 234.  Although the text does not support the view that the mission of the Potidaean envoys to Sparta was done in secret, see, however, Kagan 2009, 108.

30

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

τῶν Χίων ἐφάνη), and ends as secure information (8.15.1: ἐς δὲ τὰς ᾿Aθήνας ταχὺ ἀγγελία τῆς Χίου ἀφικνεῖται), which leads to the failure of the allies.³² iv. Speed – urgency – precaution. Another motif is the emphasis on the urgent character of the situation and the precautionary measures the protagonists must take. The aim of both sides is constantly to act first. This motif is, of course, closely connected to the more general antithesis present in the work of slow Spartans/speedy Athenians.³³ The ‘race’ between the opponents is vigorously presented through verbs and adverbs, or adverbial phrases, all indicating rapidity. The decisions are to be fulfilled immediately, everyone moves very fast, and there is a quick sequence of events and a minimization of the time taken between them through the use of the adverb εὐθύς. Thucydides uses the verbs προκαταλαμβάνειν, ἐπείγειν/ἐπείγεσθαι and φθάνειν, as well as compounds beginning with the prefix προ-.³⁴ Moreover, the three first verbs are used with the same frequency, a total of five times each in typical revolt narratives. The verb προκαταλαμβάνειν appears once in the case of Potidaea, in relation to the Athenians’ desire to prevent potential revolts (1.57.6); twice in the narrative of Mytilene, the first time in the pro-Athenian informants’ advice to the Athenians (3.2.3) and the second for the intentions of the Athenians themselves (3.3.1); once in the case of Thrace, for Thucydides’ plan to defend Eione (4.104.5); and finally twice in Book V for the Spartans (5.30.1; 57.1). The verb ἐπείγειν/ἐπείγεσθαι is used once in compound form for the Athenians’ hastiness concerning Potidaea (1.61.3); once in Book III (3.2.3); once in the case of Thrace for Thucydides’ hastiness (4.105.1); and twice in Book VIII for the Chians (8.7) and the Spartans (8.9.1). Compound verbs are also used a total of four times (1.57.1; 3.12.3; 13.1; 4.105.1). The use of the verb φθάνειν is of great interest for the narrative of Chios. This verb is always used for naval routes in revolt episodes: in the case of Mytilene, the Spartan Meleas and Hermaeondas do not manage to reach Lesbos in time (3.5.2). The verb is also used in the case of Thrace for Thucydides’ route from Thasos to Amphipolis (4.104.5) and appears three times in Book VIII in the narrative of Chios (8.12.1; 17.2; 17.3), which indicates, if anything, that the style in the case of Chios is purposely polished. Thucydides chooses to give the description of the naval routes in the narrative of Chios by using the most common verb in such cases and, moreover, in different forms (φθήσονται; φθάσαι; φθάσαντες).

 The phrase μηνυταὶ γίγνονται (3.2.3) in Lesbos’ case can be seen in the same way.  On this motif, see Schwartz 1919, 103 – 104; Finley 1942, 112– 113; Gundert 1968; Edmunds 1975, 89 – 93; Crane 1992, 240 – 244; Cartledge/Debnar 2006, 562; Ober 2006, 138, 145 – 147.  See also the type βιάσασθαι in the Potidaea narrative for the route of the Corinthian general Aristeus to the city (1.63.1).

1 The motifs of the revolt type-narratives in the case of Chios (8.1 – 24)

31

The stylistic sophistication in the Chios narrative is also indicated by the use of adverbs, specifically forms of the adverb ταχέως and prepositional phrases with the noun τάχος. In four out of six revolt narratives, Thucydides uses such types more than once and always in different forms. In the Mytilene narrative we read κατὰ τάχος, διὰ ταχέων, διὰ τάχους, ἐν τάχει, ὅτι τάχιστα and ὑπὸ σπουδῆς. In the case of Thrace, we find κατὰ τάχος, ἐν τάχει and διὰ τάχους. In the chapters about the disruption of the Peloponnesian League, we have ὡς τάχιστα, κατὰ τάχος and ἐν τάχει. Ιn Book VIII, Thucydides pays similar attention to the variatio: here we read ὡς τάχιστα, διὰ τάχους and ταχύ.³⁵ Many scholars have noted the rattling rhythm of Thucydides’ revolt narratives. Connor observed that in the case of Potidaea the story unfolds through a concise and rapid narrative.³⁶ Macleod also points out Thucydides’ emphasis on the element of precaution and the use of compound verbs beginning with the prefix προ- in the Mytileneans’ words in Book III,³⁷ while Zumbrunnen focuses on the immediacy of the Athenians’ reaction when hearing of the creation of an alliance between Sparta and Mytilene.³⁸ These observations, along with the points I presented on the special stylistic elaboration, may offer a satisfactory response to three of the complaints made about Book VIII, specifically on the concise character of its narration, the lack of emotions, and the absence of speeches. To those who consider the compendium-style presentation in Book VIII an indication of its unfinished condition, two objections may be offered. First, the rapid narration is a typical element of all the revolt narratives and not only that of Chios in the last book. Therefore, at least as concerns the first twentyfour chapters of the book, it can be argued that the fast pace is not necessarily because Thucydides was merely taking notes, but it instead proves that he is very carefully exploiting a typical narrative method. Second, the author’s strong interest in style, as evidenced through the choice of φθάνειν and the variation of the adverbial phrases, further strengthens the conclusion that the narrative acceleration is intentional. As for the ostensibly cold and spiritless character of such a rapid narrative, its speed can be considered the result rather of the author’s effort to stress the protagonists’ emotions more vividly. The chaotic situation in the international arena causes these cities to fear: Athens and Sparta are anxious that they will

 As Ros (1968, 457) has demonstrated, variatio is equally discernible in Book VIII.  Connor 1984, 36 n. 38.  Macleod 1983a, 90. Compare one further episode on alliances, the debate between the Corcyrians and the Corinthians(1.31.1– 44.3), where Thucydides uses compounds of the preposition προ- (for their use there, see Debnar 2011, 126, n. 61).  Zumbrunnen 2008, 62– 66 and 86.

32

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

lose control of Greece; the subjects fear potential retaliations; while the individuals involved are concerned that their careers will be destroyed by failure. As in all the revolt type-narratives, in the Chian episode, the above are all revealed through constant urgency. The Chians are in a hurry to accept the Spartans’ help, before the Athenians learn of their plans. The Spartans intend to support them immediately, although they do not succeed in doing so. On the opposite side, the Athenians are informed of the Chians’ revolt and act rapidly. Alcibiades is keen to convince everyone that Chios’ revolt is his own exploit. All these feelings, the insecurity of the weak, the lust of the strong for power, the arrogant ambitions of individuals, are emphasized by the element of acceleration. In other words, the speed of the narrative reflects Thucydides’ effort to intensify all these emotions. Regarding the absence of speeches, Zumbrunnen’s thoughts are equally illuminating. He observes that in the Mytilene narrative, one of the means Thucydides uses in order to stress the immediacy of the Athenians’ reaction is the omission of speeches.³⁹ This is also the case with the rest of the revolt narratives. Indeed, in Mytilene’s story, the Mytileneans’ speech and the debate of Cleon and Diodotus lie at the beginning and the end of the fast-paced narrative, so that they frame it without interrupting it. The same could be said of Brasidas’ speeches in Book IV. His speech to the Acanthians lies at the beginning of the revolts, while in the rapid narrative on the Amphipolis revolt there is no speech. Similarly, we find no speeches in the narratives of Acarnania, Potidaea and the Peloponnesian defections. Given all these, there are perhaps no speeches in the Chian episode due to Thucydides’ intention not to interrupt the fast narrative rhythm, which is consistent with the rest of the revolt episodes.

2 Techniques of coherence i. Historical Present. So far, I have argued that the Chios account contains all the typical features of similar narratives on revolts. Nevertheless, since the internal organization of the episode, as with that of the whole book, has often attracted scholarly criticism, some observations on the, according to many, flawed aspects of the episode are necessary. Elaborating on the techniques through which Thucydides tried to give coherence to his narration, the following analysis aims to respond to some of the complaints expressed in the past. The techniques analyzed below concern: a) the use of the Historical Present; b) the smooth incor-

 Zumbrunnen 2008, 51– 56.

2 Techniques of coherence

33

poration of short digressions; c) the well-timed first appearances of new persons; d) the first treaty between Sparta and Persia in ch. 17.4– 18; and e) the coup in Samos in ch. 21. With regard to the functionality of the Historical Present (HP), it is worth quoting the words of Rutger Allan: “In general, the historical present can be characterized as a marker of the story’s foreground, that is, ‘the main storyline, the central events and actions that form the gist of the story, the red thread through the story’”.⁴⁰ Following the narrative backbone of ch. 1– 24 that emerges from the HP, we can see that the coherent element of the plot is Chios. The main elements of the plot on the basis of the HP are the following: 1. ch. 7 – 10.2: The Spartans’ decision to send forces to Chios and their errors. The HP ἀποπέμπουσι marks this stage of the plot, while all the diplomatic details are given in the Past Imperfect and Aorist. 2. ch. 10.3 – 11.3: The Athenians’ reaction and the Spartans’ decision to cancel the expedition. This is the first reversal of the Spartans’ plans. The HP emphasizes their losses near the isthmus: The Athenians chase them (καταδιώκουσιν), while the Spartans lose (ἀπολλύασι) a ship, ὁρμίζουσιν, and the Athenians damage (κατατραυματίζουσιν) most of the ships and kill (ἀποκτείνουσιν) the commander Alcamenes. They then land on a small island near their base. The rest of the details on the Spartans’ despondency and their will to cancel the mission are given in the Aorist and Past Imperfect. 3. ch. 12.1 and 14.1 – 3: Alcibiades’ interference and the revolts of Chios and of other Ionian cities. Alcibiades persuades the Spartans not to abandon the enterprise. Thucydides keeps the Spartans away from the HP, in order to show their passive role in the course of the events. Alcibiades’ advice is given in the HP πείθει, while the whole background (Alcibiades’ motivation and argumentation) is given in the Past Imperfect. Thereafter, the results of Alcibiades’ interference are also given in HP: Alcibiades and Chalcideus arrive

 Allan in Lallot/Rijksbaron/Jacquinod/Buijs 2011, 42. See Wårvik 2004, 99. Cf. Sicking/Stork 1997, 165; Rijksbaron 20023. Of course, the presence of HP should not always be considered as the author’s conscious choice. As Koller (1951) has shown, there are certain verbs that are more prone to be used in the HP, which is also the case with some of the verbs in HP in the Chios narrative. In Sicking and Stock’s (1997, 166) terms, “there are only categories of events (i. e. saying, answering, ordering, hearing, seeing, arriving, dying, etc.), that more often than others are part of what constitutes the main framework of a piece of (historical) narrative.” However, this does not mean that the author’s choice is totally absent in such cases (cf. de Jong 1991, 40). At any rate, the HP, be it an unconscious linguistic mechanism or the author’s deliberate choice, admittedly helps the reader follow the main line of the plot.

34

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

(ἀφικνοῦνται) at Chios, the inhabitants of the island revolt (ἀφίστανται) and rouse (ἀφιστᾶσιν) Clasomenae.⁴¹ 4. ch. 15.1 – 16.3: The Athenians’ reaction and the first pursuit in Ionia. The news of Chios’ revolt reaches (ἀφικνεῖται) Athens, the Athenians’ decisions are given in Aorist and Past Imperfect, while the narrative immediately moves on to their realization, namely to Strombichides’ arrival at Samos (ἀφικνεῖται). The Chians, Alcibiades and Chalcideus’ pursuit of him are given in Aorist and Past Imperfect. 5. ch. 17.1 – 3: The revolt of Miletus. After chasing Strombichides, Chalcideus and Alcibiades leave the hoplites under their command in Chios (HP καταλιμπάνουσιν), man some of their ships with rowers and manage to take (ἀφιστᾶσι) Miletus. 6. ch. 19.1 – 4: The first battle between Chios and Athens. The Chians, while they are in Anaea in order to get information on the situation in Miletus, see (καθορῶσιν) sixteen triremes of the Athenians under the command of Diomedon. In the ensuing collision, the Athenians capture (λαμβάνουσι) four of the Chian ships, while the rest of them flee (καταφεύγουσιν) to Teos. 7. ch. 22.1 – 23.6: The Chians’ failed attempt of the revolt of Lesbos. The Chians send an army (στρατεύονται) to Lesbos and detach (ἀφιστᾶσι) Methymna. They leave (καταλείπονται) four ships there and ἀφιστᾶσιν Mytilene with the rest of their fleet. Astyochus arrives (ἀφικνεῖται) in Chios, then (ἀφικνεῖται) in Pyrra and Erhesos. He is informed (πυνθάνεται) that Mytilene has been occupied by the Athenians and, after detaching Erhesos, sends (παραπέμπει) infantry under the command of Eteonicus to Antissa and Methymna. His departure for Chios is given in the Past Imperfect and Aorist. This is followed by the only instance where HP is used to disrupt the coherence of the narrative i. e. six Peloponnesian ships arrive (ἀφικνοῦνται) in Chios. The Athenians’ gradual quashing of the Lesbian rebellion is given in Aorist and Past Imperfect. 8. ch. 24.1 – 6: Chalcideus’ death and the fate of the Chians. The Athenians kill (ἀποκτείνουσι) Chalcideus at Panormon, on Milesian territory, and start besieging Chios, an episode that is given in the Past Imperfect and Aorist. At first sight, it seems quite strange that the Athenian invasion of Chios is not given in HP. However, Thucydides seems to have connected it in his mind with Chalcideus’ death. In ch. 8.2, we had read that the first stage of the Spartans’ operation was to help Chios by sending forces under the command of this man (πρῶτον ἐς Χίον αὐτοῖς πλεῖν ἄρχοντα). The central role of

 Alcibiades’ interference marks a new stage in the plot. See Delebecque 1967, 27.

2 Techniques of coherence

35

the Chians ends with the death of the official closely connected to them, Chalcideus. All the subsequent details are governed by the HP ἀποκτείνουσι. Thucydides’ message in ch. 24.6 is the final failure of the first stage of the Spartan plans: the annihilation of the representative responsible and the siege of Chios. It is no coincidence that Thucydides avoids presenting the scene of Chalcideus’ death at Panormon. He does not distinguish it as an extended independent scene, but immediately documents the invasion of Chios. In so doing, he connects the Spartan’s death to the central subject of the episode, Chios. The presence of Chios in most of these stages is the cohesive element of the plot in ch. 1– 24.⁴² All the actions in stage 1 are introduced by the phrase ἐπειγομένων τῶν Χίων. In stage 3, not only is the revolt of the island the main subject, but the Chians are also the subject of two out of four HP, ἀφίστανται and ἀφιστᾶσι. In stage 5, the revolt of Miletus must be considered an achievement of the Chians too (17.2: καὶ τοῖς Χίοις). In st. 6, the Chians are the protagonists and the subject of two of the three HP, καθορῶσιν and καταφεύγουσιν. In st. 7, they are the basic instigators of the Lesbian revolt, being the subject of the first four HP – στρατεύονται, ἀφιστᾶσι, καταλείπονται and ἀφιστᾶσιν – while the escorting infantry of the allies and its leadership remain in the background with the Past Imperfects παρῄει and ἦρχε.⁴³ In st. 8, the devastation of their land is not given in HP, but Chalcideus’ death in the HP ἀποκτείνουσι, as mentioned above, is to be considered as something that is immediately connected to them. The concluding comment also refers to them. Using the HP, Thucydides sketches the central plot, which becomes a unified and separate whole due to the constant presence of the first motif of the revolt type-narratives, the key city. The culmination of the Chians’ presence in the account of ch. 1– 24 is Thucydides’ comment in ch. 24.4– 5. The whole previous narrative is colored by it. Stahl very aptly observes that such closures guide the reader to understand through which filters (s)he should re-read and comprehend the sequence of the events (s)he has already read.⁴⁴ Let us recall similar cases of

 Cf. COT III, 810.  According to Wilamowitz (1908, 585 – 586), the omission of information on the infantry indicates that in this case Thucydides based his account exclusively on Chian informants (cf. HCT V, 370). However, at this stage we are already just a step before the final culmination and the end of the episode, which is why it would have been inappropriate for Thucydides to burden his account with irrelevant information on the destination and the role of the infantry heading for the Hellespont. For a different but equally positive explanation, see Erbse (1989, 7– 8).  Stahl, 2013, 311.

36

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

concluding encomiastic comments in other parts of the History, such as the digression on Themistocles (1.138.3 – 6) or the requiem of Pericles (2.65.5 – 13), where Thucydides praises them in such a way that he retrospectively characterizes their whole previous activity. ii. The short parallel narrations.⁴⁵ Many have complained that following the logic of the narrative in Book VIII requires strenuous effort. New persons and ships are constantly introduced, and this is one of the many reasons as to why the field of action changes with such great frequency.⁴⁶ However, although the spatial fragmentation within this book is indeed undeniable, there has been no effort to explore if and how Thucydides worked here on handling spatial transferences. In the next two sections (ii and iii), I examine those passages where Thucydides seems to have tried to control the spatial changes or, at least in those cases where he did not avoid them, to incorporate them as smoothly and functionally as possible into the main field of action. Ch. 13 and ch. 20.1 are short breaks in the main plot, transferring the reader to a different place from that of the main developments. In particular, in ch. 13, while the main action is located in Sparta, we suddenly move to the Ionian Sea and read that, during that period, sixteen ships of the navy of Gylippus were returning from Sicily. They were intercepted by twenty-seven Athenian triremes near Lefcada, but finally managed to escape and reach Corinth. A similar transition also occurs in ch. 20.1. In this case, the main plot unfolds in Ionia, where the infantry of the Peloponnesian League and the Chian navy co-organize the revolts of Lebedos and Aerae. After achieving their goal, both the hoplites and the ships return to their bases. At this point, however, the author interjects, in order to insert a short chapter that transfers us to the Peloponnese. In both cases, Thucydides picks up the thread of his narrative exactly at the point where he had interrupted it. The last sentence before the interruption in ch. 13 was καὶ ὁ μέν … μετὰ Χαλκιδέως τοῦ Λακεδαιμονίου … τὸν πλοῦν έποιοῦντο (12.3). This is immediately followed by the short digression, after which the narrative continues from the point where it had been interrupted, with the phrase ὁ δὲ Χαλκιδεὺς καὶ ὁ ᾿Aλκιβιάδης πλέοντες … (14.1). This is also the case in the second example. Before ch. 20.1 the narration had stopped with the sentence καὶ μετὰ τοῦτο ἕκαστοι ἐπ’ οἴκου ἀπεκομίσθησαν, καὶ ὁ πεζὸς καὶ αἱ νῆες (19.4). Then comes the transition of the field of action in ch. 20.1, and in ch. 20.2 the main account continues from the point where it had been inter On parallel narrations in Thucydides, see Schwinge 1996, 300 ff.; Rengakos 2006, 288 – 291; Schwinge 2008, 35 ff.  Mewes 1868, 19; Rawlings 1981, 176 – 179; Rood 1998, 251– 252; Rengakos 2006, 291; Bakker 2013, 35 – 36.

2 Techniques of coherence

37

rupted, with the phrase ἀναχωρήσαντος δὲ τοῦ ἐκ τῆς Τέω πεζοῦ. These parallel narrations do not disturb the unity of the episode, both because of their brevity and because Thucydides isolates them by tightly connecting what precedes and follows them. These elaborate breaks are not the only ones in Thucydides, as the following examples demonstrate. The first example belongs to the Pylos episode (4.3 – 41). The story has reached the point where the Peloponnesian army in Attica has been informed of the occupation of Pylos and leaves quickly for Sparta. The narrative stops as follows: ὥστε πολλαχόθεν ξυνέβη ἀναχωρῆσαί τε θᾶσσον αὐτοὺς καὶ βραχυτάτην γενέσθαι τὴν ἐσβολὴν ταύτην· ἡμέρας γὰρ πέντε καὶ δέκα ἔμειναν ἐν τῇ ᾿Aττικῇ (4.6.2). At this point, Thucydides transfers the field of action to Thrace (4.7). After a short digression, the main plot on Pylos continues with the words ἀναχωρησάντων δὲ τῶν ἐκ τῆς ᾿Aττικῆς Πελοποννησίων (4.8.1), with the participle ἀναχωρησάντων echoing the infinitive ἀναχωρῆσαι that we read just before the interruption. The second example lies in Book V. The Spartans have called a fifty-year truce with the Athenians and the narrative now concentrates on the reaction of the dissatisfied allies of Sparta. Argos seizes the opportunity to gain the support of some of the members of the Spartan League, including Corinth. In 5.31.6 Thucydides writes ἐγένοντο δὲ καὶ οἱ Κορίνθιοι εὐθὺς μετ’ ἐκείνους καὶ οἱ ἐπὶ Θρᾴκης Χαλκιδῆς ᾿Aργείων ξύμμαχοι. At this point, the historian changes the subject by adding a short chapter (5.32.1– 2). The narrative continues again where it had been interrupted, with the phrase καὶ Κορίνθιοι καὶ ᾿Aργείοι ἤδη ξύμμαχοι ὄντες (5.32.3), reminding us of the ἐγένοντο δὲ καὶ οἱ Κορίνθιοι … ᾿Aργείων ξύμμαχοι of ch. 5.31.6. Indeed, the two short parallel narrations of ch. 13 and ch. 20.1 transfer the scene to areas other than that of the central plot. However, the technique Thucydides chose in order to incorporate them into the main narrative suggests that he is aware of the fact that he digresses and thus takes great care to render the digressions as imperceptible as possible. By exploiting in the Chios narrative means of incorporation that he uses also in central and autonomous episodes, such as that on Pylos or in those parts of his work that have a clear thematic orientation, Thucydides offers us yet another strong indication that, in his mind, ch. 1– 24 constitute a separate episode, from which any digression must be incorporated as smoothly as possible. iii. The well-timed introduction of individuals. The avoidance of spatial disruption is also served by the well-timed introduction of individuals, in particular the Athenian generals Strombichides, Thrasycleus, Diomedon, and Leon. The eight ships of the Athenians under the command of Strombichides, before sailing for Samos, were at Speiraeon and participated in deterring the Spartan

38

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

fleet. It was with these ships that Strombichides had pursued Chalcideus and Alcibiades and, after failing to stop them, returned to Athens. We read of all these, however, only in ch. 15, when the field of action has already been transferred to Athens. The Athenians have received knowledge of the Chios revolt and respond by taking drastic decisions. Thucydides informs us of Strombichides’ previous activities as soon as he has narrated the Athenian decision to send him with his eight triremes to Samos. Of course, Thucydides could have composed a short episode on this pursuit in ch. 12 or ch. 14, but he did not. He instead felt that it would be more appropriate to give this information at the point where these eight ships are sailing to the main field of action, Ionia. This example and the following ones are highly suggestive of the reasons for the frequently observed omission of information on the movements of the ships in Book VIII.⁴⁷ Aside from Strombichides, the Athenians also decided to send Thrasycleus with twelve triremes to Ionia. Again, without having written a single word about when and how Thrasycleus sailed for Ionia, in ch. 17.3 Thucydides chooses to introduce the Athenian general, when the latter, along with Strombichides, is chasing after Alcibiades and Chalcideus: “and arriving slightly ahead of Strombichides as well as Thrasycles, who happened to have come just now from Athens with twelve ships and joined in the pursuit”.⁴⁸ In following his usual method of leaving something in the background until it becomes most relevant to the narrative,⁴⁹ Thucydides considered that it was suitable to mention Thrasycleus only when he had already arrived at the main field of action, Ionia. After the first treaty between the Spartans and the Persians, ten Chian ships moved to Anaea, in order to receive information on the situation in Miletus. However, when Chalcideus informs them that Amorges is approaching with his forces, they move to the sanctuary of Zeus. At this very point, Thucydides chooses to introduce another Athenian general, Diomedon, who had arrived in Ionia with sixteen ships and was on his way to Samos (8.19.2). Like Strombichides and Thrasycleus, Diomedon appears only when he is at the central field of action. Leon is the last to be included in this list of persons. We read about him that “Leon (γάρ) had come later with ten ships from Athens as reinforcements” (8.23.1). What is of great importance in these cases is the idea that the interpretation of the facts in Thucydides, and generally in historical narratives, leads to and emerges from the harmonization of the different elements into a whole.⁵⁰ This

 Mewes 1868; HCT V; See Erbse (1989, 67– 75) and Lapini’s (2003) speculations on the number and the movements of the ships in Book VIII.  I use Lattimore’s (1998) translation everywhere.  Finley 1942, 117.  Romilly 1956, 12– 14.

2 Techniques of coherence

39

idea reflects the way in which Thucydides narrated the events, and offers a better explanation of the omissions in the History, including Book VIII. The omissions are not always signs of the sketchiness of a text; instead, they exemplify the historian’s effort to incorporate, as smoothly as possible, the heterogeneous details into the central idea of an episode. By omitting everything about these men’s routes from Athens to Ionia, Thucydides merely adopted his usual technique of the omission of information, in order to focus on the main field of action and to diminish any transitions from it. iv. The first treaty between Sparta and Persia. As mentioned above, in ch. 17.3 we read that the Spartan general Chalcideus and Alcibiades eventually manage to arrive first in Miletus and secure its defection. Thucydides interrupts at this point in order to present us with the document of the treaty, which he introduces with the sentence καὶ ἡ πρὸς βασιλέα ξυμμαχία Λακεδαιμονίοις ἡ πρώτη Μιλησίων εὐθὺς ἀποστάντων διὰ Τισσαφέρνους καὶ Χαλκιδέως ἐγένετο ἥδε (17.4). In the next chapter, the historian quotes the document and in ch. 19.1 continues his narration with the words ἡ μὲν ξυμμαχία αὕτη ἐγένετο· μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα οἱ Χίοι εὐθύς … This interruption has often attracted criticism,⁵¹ mainly concerning the thematic discontinuity it creates, and the presence of the definite article. As for the article in the phrase ἡ πρὸς βασιλέα ξυμμαχία, Willamowitz suggests that Thucydides used it because he considered this treaty to be well known to his contemporaries. Moreover, Willamowitz assumed it to be a later addition by Thucydides, who intended in this way to restore the anomaly during the final revision of the book.⁵² Schwartz also complained that the presence of the article does not fit with the style of the context.⁵³ Meyer viewed the matter with a less polemical eye, arguing that the article does not necessarily imply that Thucydides considered the treaty to be well known; this is indeed true, since Thucydides frequently records popular events without using an article. Meyer believed that the treaty – as well as the article – had been well prepared by ch. 5 – 8.⁵⁴ Von Fritz oscillated somewhere in the middle, admitting that there is a structural inconsistency but finding the use of the definite article normal, since ch. 5 – 8 prepare the reader

 For the bibliography on the use of documents in Thucydides see Rhodes 2007, 59, who follows Hornblower’s claim that the inclusion of the documents is suggestive of Thucydides’ shift toward a new way of writing. In contrast, others (see, e. g., Will 2003, 25 and 354– 356) insist that the presence of treaties in both Books V and VIII is better explained by the hypothesis that Thucydides was not able to complete the revision of his work.  Wilamowitz 1908, 584. But see Kunle 1909, 14.  Schwartz 1919.  Meyer 1955, 127– 128; cf. Erbse 1989, 2– 5.

40

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

for the document.⁵⁵ The last three scholars to have examined the issue – Andrewes, Hornblower and Müller – adopt the traditional view that the narrative stops suddenly. The first two offer a new interpretation of the article, explaining that it is legitimized by Thucydides’ additional clarification of ἡ πρώτη, which foreshadows the next two treaties.⁵⁶ There are thus very few positive judgments on Thucydides’ inclusion of the first treaty at this specific point, and the general belief is that ch. 17.4– 18 do not match the context. Still, a different reading of the text based on a comparison to the rest of the work may show that Thucydides’ choice was intentional and that, even if he revised the History, he would have changed absolutely nothing here. To start with the simplest observation, already expressed, it is obvious that both the introduction as well as the epilogue of the document conform to Thucydides’ usual style in such cases.⁵⁷ However, the plethora of criticisms means that three aspects of this problem deserve special consideration: a) the presence of the definite article; b) the position of the treaty; and c) the question of whether it has been smoothly incorporated into its context. Would Thucydides have relocated the treaty in his narrative? Would he have transferred the information along with the document to a different place in the account, as Wilamowitz believed, or did he intentionally interrupt the story exactly at this point? The chronological clarification Μιλησίων εὐθὺς ἀποστάντων in the introductory sentence of the treaty may shed new light on this matter. Such a form of chronological placing is far from coincidental. On the contrary, Thucydides almost always relates inter-state agreements to the historical event preceding them. Concerning the thirty-year truce, Thucydides characteristically insists on defining its date in relation to the immediately preceding event: 1) 1.23.4: τὰς τριακοντούτεις σπονδὰς αἳ αὐτοῖς ἐγένοντο μετὰ Εὐβοίας ἅλωσιν 2) 1.87.6: τῶν τριακοντουτίδων σπονδῶν προκεχωρηκυιῶν, αἳ ἐγένοντο μετὰ τὰ Εὐβοϊκά 3) 2.2.1: τέσσαρα μὲν γὰρ καὶ δέκα ἔτη ἐνέμειναν αἱ τριακοντούτεις σπονδαὶ αἳ ἐγένοντο μετ’ Εὐβοίας ἅλωσιν

 Von Fritz 1967 I, 760 and II, 322 n. 195.  HCT V, 40 and 143; Müller 1997, 100 – 101; COT III, 801– 802.  The introductory phrase, in its simplified form, is ἡ πρὸς βασιλέα ξυμμαχία ἡ πρώτη ἐγένετο ἥδε and the concluding sentence immediately after the document is ἡ μὲν ξυμμαχία αὕτη ἐγένετο (8.19.1). See 4.117.3 – 119.3; 5.17.2– 20.1; 5.22.3 – 24.2; 5.46.5 – 48.1; 5.76.3 – 78; 5.78. See Lévy 1983, 222 n. 9.

2 Techniques of coherence

41

This inelegant repetition is a first indication that the historian chose to date treaties by relating them to the preceding historical event. The more we read the History, the more we are convinced that this was indeed Thucydides’ standard method: 1) 5.20.1: αὗται αἱ σπονδαὶ ἐγένοντο τελευτῶντος τοῦ χειμῶνος ἅμα ἦρι, ἐκ Διονυσίων εὐθὺς τῶν ἀστικῶν 2) 5.24.2: αὕτη ἡ ξυμμαχία ἐγένετο μετὰ τὰς σπονδὰς οὐ πολλῷ ὕστερον We need not consider the position of the treaty in ch. 17.4, (after the preceding event, namely the revolt of Miletus) a rough addition. Taking into account the examples above, we can safely conclude not only that Thucydides does not interrupt the narration in a sloppy way but, instead, that he systematically follows his usual method of dating treaties. The position of the document is attached to the event that defines its date, and this choice indicates a methodological consistency with the rest of the work, reducing the possibility that this passage is in an unpolished condition. In essence, we have here a footnote of some kind, to put it in modern terms. If Thucydides had had the means available to a modern author at his disposal, he would probably have inserted a footnote reference number in the text when discussing those events accompanied by a treaty, and informed the readers that after event x a certain treaty was produced.⁵⁸ In ch. 17.4 he goes even further by attaching the document itself. There is another passage that is also worth mentioning due to its similarities with the first treaty in Book VIII. This is ch. 2.68, where Thucydides narrates the campaign of the Ambraciots against Amphilochian Argos. After a short presentation of the prehistory of the city since the Trojan War up to his time, Thucydides explains why the Ambraciots became the enemies of the Amphilochians and dislodged them from their own city. As the narrative unfolds, in his discussion of the fifth century BC, Thucydides records that the Amphilochians were under constant pressure from the Ambraciots, and so they entrusted their protection to the Acarnanians and, along with them, made an approach to the Athenians. The latter reciprocated by sending Phormio along with thirty ships. Finally, the Amphilochians, the Acarnanians, and the Athenians defeated the Ambraciots, and the Amphilochians regained Argos. At this point, the historian interrupts his account in order to add that this was followed by the first alliance between the Athenians and the Acarnanians. This information, however, is merely a parenthesis, just as in ch. 17.4– 18; immediately after, Thucydides reverts to the

 As Cawkwell (1997, 10) writes, “ancient authors did not have the luxury of footnotes and appendices and Thucydides just had to do his best without them”. For a more skeptical view on this matter, see Crane 1996, 35.

42

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

subject of the hostility between the Amphilochians and the Ambraciots. Here we cite not the whole of ch. 2.68, but only the parenthesis on the treaty with its close context (§§ 6 – 9): Now in time the Ambraciots drove out the Argives and ruled the city themselves. After this had happened, the Amphilochians put themselves under the protection of the Acarnanians, and together they appealed to the Athenians, who sent Phormio as a general and thirty ships, and when Phormio arrived, they seized Argos by assault and enslaved the Ambraciots, and the Amphilochians and Acarnanians occupied (ἠνδραπόδισαν) Argos jointly. After this, the alliance was first concluded between the Athenians and the Acarnanians (μετὰ δὲ τοῦτο ἡ ξυμμαχία πρῶτον ἐγένετο ᾿Aθηναίοις καὶ ᾿Aκαρνᾶσιν). The Ambraciots first developed their hostility against the Argives as a result of this enslavement (ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀνδραποδισμοῦ) of their people.

The sentence μετὰ δὲ τοῦτο ἡ ξυμμαχία πρῶτον ἐγένετο ᾿Aθηναίοις καὶ ᾿Aκαρνᾶσιν can hardly be connected with its context, just as in the case of ch. 17.4. In addition, if this sentence were removed, then the plot unfolds much better. There is a cause and effect relationship between the last incident before the interruption, the enslavement of the Ambraciots, and the next event, the Ambraciots’ decision to be the enemies of the Amphilochians. Thucydides is also careful to preserve the coherence of his narrative despite this interruption by closing the last event (ἠνδραπόδισαν) in the same way he does the next event after the treaty (ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀνδραποδισμοῦ). The treaty is also accompanied by a definite article and the definition πρῶτον (cf. ἡ πρώτη of 8.17.4), similarly to the first treaty of Book VIII. We can also observe a similar attempt in the interruption due to the first treaty between the Spartans and the Persians. If the digression were removed (with its introductory phrase, the document and its closure), the coherence of the plot would not be affected at all. The plot continues with the words μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα and not, say, with a μετὰ δὲ τοῦτο, which would refer exclusively to the treaty and therefore render it an integral part of the narrative (for without it, we would hardly be able to understand what τοῦτο is). Besides, the treaty is introduced by the Aorist ἐγένετο and not by an HP, which would render it a separate and autonomous part of the narrative. The Aorist, rather, enlists it in the details referring to the situation at Miletus and, if we were to remove it, this would not disturb the plot in any way. This is therefore a case similar to that of ch. 2.68, and there is no reason to believe that the parenthetical interruption in Book II is polished, while in Book VIII it needs revision. v. The short excursus on the coup of Samos (21): Its double antithesis with ch. 63.3 and ch. 73.2. Besides the interruption of ch. 17.4, there has also been criticism of the interruption in ch. 21, where the Samian democrats,

2 Techniques of coherence

43

under the aegis of the Athenians, revolted against the oligarchs of the island. They killed two hundred, the most powerful of the oligarchs, exiled another four hundred, then distributed their land and houses among themselves and banned marriages between the common people and the rich landowners. Although some scholars see this interruption as a sign of the incompleteness of Book VIII,⁵⁹ its presence is absolutely normal, as the political situation in Samos is closely connected to the overall plot of the book. As Centanni has very well demonstrated, aside from the fact that the island was of general interest for the Greeks as the cradle of tyranny, specifically in terms of its place in Book VIII it is the “tragic theatre bathed in the light of the last Athenian democracy” as well as of the political extremes of the democrats, fitting well with the chapters on the oligarchic coup in Athens. Last, but not least, Samos was the place where Alcibiades’ machinations were directed.⁶⁰ One further argument can be added. On a narrative level, the presence of the chapter and the way in which Thucydides ties it to its context can be best explained if we also take account of its association with the historian’s political beliefs, as expressed in the Pathology.⁶¹ The connection of ch. 21 with the Pathology is revealed by Thucydides’ comments (8.63.3 and 73.2) on the democrats’ decision to change their minds and turn themselves into oligarchs after only a year. Through two antitheses between ch. 21 and ch. 63.3 and ch. 73.2, Thucydides shares with his readers his negative impressions of such behavior. Here is the first antithesis: For around this time and even before, the democracy at Athens had been overthrown. When the envoys led by Peisandros left Tissaphernes and came to Samos, they not only established their control even more firmly over the situation in the army itself but also prompted the influential men among the Samians to persuade them to accept oligarchic government (ὀλιγαρχηθῆναι) following their own example, even though the Samians had had an internal uprising (καίπερ ἐπαναστάντας) to avoid being under oligarchy (ἵνα μὴ ὀλιγαρχῶνται). (8.63.3)

The infinitive ὀλιγαρχηθῆναι contrasts with the participle of opposition καίπερ ἐπαναστάντας and the clause of purpose ἵνα μὴ ὀλιγαρχῶνται. This is the first antithesis, which recurs in ch. 73.2:

 HCT III, 44– 47.  Centanni 2002, 293 – 297, 303.  On echoes of the Pathology in Book VIII, in particular in Peisandros’ words (8.53 – 54), see Taylor 2010, 208 – 209. On the Pathology in general see Orwin 1994, 175 – 182.

44

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

For the Samians who had formerly risen as democrats (ὄντες δῆμος) against the upper classes changed again (αὖθις)⁶² under the influence of Peisandros, after he arrived, and his Athenian accomplices at Samos, and up to three hundred became conspirators and intended to attack the others for being democrats (ἔμελλον τοῖς ἄλλοις ὡς δήμῳ ὄντι ἐπιθήσεσθαι).

In this case, we have a contrast between the phrases ὄντες δῆμος and ἔμελλον τοῖς ἄλλοις ὡς δήμῳ ὄντι ἐπιθήσεσθαι. From ch. 63.3 to ch. 73.2, the contrast culminates in the following two successive stages: in ch. 63.3 the Samians decide of their own free will to serve a constitution which they had so passionately fought against, and in ch. 73.2 they choose to make friends of their enemies. These contrasts would not be possible without ch. 21. Moreover, apart from these antitheses, Thucydides exploits one further means by which to stress even more greatly his criticism of the Samians’ opportunism. It is the phrase ὡς δήμῳ ὄντι, especially the use of the scheme ὡς + participle, which Thucydides uses at times to express his doubts about the judgment of individuals and masses, both in battle descriptions (1.54.1; 7.34.7) as well as in political analyses (2.59.2; 6.15.4). In the case of the Samians, he makes clear that he considers the excuse of the three hundred to be hypocritical. Through the double contrast (between ch. 21 and ch. 63.3 and ch. 73.2) and the phrase ὡς δήμῳ ὄντι, Thucydides proceeds with a cold and scornful remark, in which he ironically describes the character of the 300 Samians and rejects their alleged motive by briefly explaining that this was nothing more than a political pretext, which was indeed the case: The 300 ex-democrat Samians had not suddenly become oligarchs after a sincere change of mind. For, if they really wanted a stable oligarchic establishment in Samos, they would have turned to the Spartans. The fanatic oligarchic exiles of Samos were in Anaea, from where they were in constant contact with the Spartans and aimed to establish an oligarchy in Samos. A secret consultation with Sparta using those exiles as intermediaries would have sufficed for a successful oligarchic coup on the Ionian island. However, this would not have been a positive development for the 300 Samians, as the Spartans would have replaced them with the exiles from Anaea. On the other hand, the three hundred were equally skeptical of democracy, as they were afraid that the newly-established oligarchic government of Athens would deprive them of their power if they did not demonstrate sufficient loyalty. And the only way for them to show their loyalty and maintain their power was by sacrificing democracy and imposing oligarchy. Their lust for power was concealed by the pseudo-dilemma of democracy or oligarchy.

 This adverb expresses Thucydides’ criticism of the hypocrisy of the 300. See Quinn 1981, 21.

2 Techniques of coherence

45

All this relates to the situation described in the Pathology, where we read about political leaders who use their apparent dedication to democracy or oligarchy as an excuse for their actions, when power is their sole purpose (3.82.8), and who place their personal interests above the value of constitutions.⁶³ Thucydides makes a similar point with the Samian episode. Thucydides’ scorn for the Samians touches upon one further theme of the Pathology, the penalties. Here, he argues that the outcome of civil strife was too innovative given: a) the dexterity of the practice of war; and b) the irrationality of the punishments (3.82.3), as reflected in the execution of the 200 wealthy Samians, the exile of the remaining 400 powerful men, and the confiscation of their property during the democratic revolution against them in 412 BC. Thucydides, by including ch. 21, induces the reader to feel the futility and the absurdity of such punishments, writing in ch. 8.63.3 and ch. 73 that the very same people who had killed their fellow countrymen in order, once and for all, to avoid oligarchy had decided only a year later to revolt against democracy. Another aspect that Thucydides criticizes in the Pathology is the distortion of critical thinking (γνώμη) as a result of unpleasant feelings such as anger, fear and despair (3.82.2). According to him, the inevitable consequence of such an emotional influence on human mind is reckless impulse. Throughout the Pathology, Thucydides presents the rashness of actions as being the fundamental objective of people, in their efforts to prevent unwanted developments (3.82.4– 7). Ch. 2.22 and ch. 59 – 65 are particularly illuminating on how Thucydides dramatizes the effect of the emotional turmoil on reason: Initially, with a clear head, the Athenians made the decision to launch the war against the Peloponnesian League and to patiently suffer the plundering of their land. However, as soon as they were confronted with the unpleasant events, their judgment was affected by their anger against Pericles and they urged that a treaty be negotiated with the Spartans. The change of opinion resulting from this wrath unfolds in the following way: a) cool decision; b) change of mind due to emotions; c) a superficial impulse to implement the new decision. Almost the same textual structure is observed in ch. 21 and ch. 73 too, where we read that the 300 Samians led the democratic revolution of 412 BC, but after a year they μεταβαλλόμενοι αὖθις … τοῖς τε πλέοσιν ὥρμηντο ἐπιτίθεσθαι. The following diagram offers a comparative presentation of both cases – Athenians and Samians – with the same path, namely initial decision → change of mind due to emotions → impulse:

 Cf. Barnard 1980, 42– 45; Lintott 1981, 26.

46

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

Stages of dramatization

Athenians

 Samians

Α) initial decision ↓ Β) change of decision due to emotions ↓ C) impulse

Decision to fight (.) ↓

Decision to abolish oligarchy (. and .) ↓ Effort to establish oligarchy (..: μεταβαλλόμενοι αὖθις) ↓

Regret (.: ἠλλοίωντο τὰς γνώμας) ↓ Strong desire to parley with the Spartans (.: πρὸς δὲ τοὺς Λακεδαιμονίους ὥρμηντο ξυγχωρεῖν)

Strong desire to attack the demos (..: τοῖς τε πλέοσιν ὥρμηντο ἐπιτίθεσθαι)

The short digression in ch. 21 constitutes an organic part of this dramatization. As for its position, if Thucydides had not mentioned the coup in Samos in ch. 21 but had instead chosen to recount it somewhere close to ch. 63.3 or to ch. 73.2, this would have caused further complications to the plot at these points since both open analepses, and a second analepsis inside another would then cause even greater confusion in the narrative.

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History 3.1 The fulfillment of the foreshadowing of ch. 4.81.2 – 3: The echoes of Brasidas’ diplomacy in the Ionian war So far, we have tried to show that the case of Chios not only has all the motifs of the revolt type-narratives, but specific coherence techniques can also be discerned even in some of its ostensibly problematic passages. In the last part of this chapter, we will elaborate on how Thucydides connected the Chios narrative with the wider account in the rest of the work. More specifically, we will try to explain which foreshadowings it fulfills and which developments it perhaps prepares the readers for. Little has been said regarding the relationship of the Chios episode with the previous plot of the History. Only Rawlings has argued that Thucydides connected it with the Lesbos episode in Book III, basing his theory on similarities between the two cases. These similarities, however, can be found in all revolt narratives, and for this reason Rawling’s theory is unfounded. Rawlings believed that the affinities between the two episodes were deliberate since, in his view,

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

47

the revolts of Mytilene and Chios were the only ones that Thucydides described in such detail.⁶⁴ The revolt narratives of Potidaea in Book II and of the Thracian cities in Book IV are, however, equally extensive. Let us stay with the observation that the similarities Rawlings identified in the cases of Lesbos and Chios are nothing more than the motifs of the revolt type-narratives and thus not characteristics found exclusively in Books III and VIII. Thucydides’ method is inductive:⁶⁵ When examining the examples of wartime revolts, he reached the general conclusion that in such cases there are always certain ubiquitous factors which govern them and therefore define their outcome. In order to share this belief with the reader, he created, as we have seen, a type-narrative for revolts, whereby he wished to allow the reader to make associative comparisons between these episodes based on the same factors (key cities, fear, emergency, secret negotiations).⁶⁶ Therefore, if we were to name one of these factors (e. g. emergency) factor a and the individual examples (cases of Potidaea, Acarnania, Lesbos, revolts against Sparta, and revolt of Chios) analysed on the basis of this factor examples a1, a2, a3, a4 and a5, this does not entail that Thucydides compares exclusively, say, a1 with a2, but that he groups them all together on the basis of this parameter. Rawlings may be correct, for instance, in his observation that Thucydides compared Alcidas’ reluctance with Alcibiades’ action, as regards how quickly these men acted. However, this does not mean that he wrote the episodes with the sole purpose of comparing them, but, rather, that he approached them using the same criterion that he also used for the Corinthian Aristeus in the Potidaea case, for Brasidas⁶⁷ and himself in Book IV, for Cnemus in Book II, and for Agis in Book V. Accordingly, it is not possible to agree with Rawlings that Thucydides, when writing about Teutiaplus’ futile advice to the adamant Alcidas to invade Mytilene unexpectedly, had only Alcibiades and Chalcideus of Book VIII in mind. We should instead follow the communis opinio that Thucy-

 Rawlings 1981, 180.  On this method in Thucydides see Cochrane 1929, 4– 13, who sees it as a result of the influence of Hippocratic medicine on him; Alker 1988, 805; Giddens 1990; Gustafson 2001, 290 on Thucydides’ inductive approach to international relations, which should definitely be linked with the revolt type-narratives. More recently, see Ober 2006, 137– 151.  Cf. Hornblower 2009, 66.  On Brasidas’ speed see Bodin 1935, 47– 55; Ellis 1978, 28 – 35; Westlake 1980; COT II, 261; Howie 1992; Wylie 1992/1993, 86 – 88; Badian 1999, 12; Classen 2005, 121; Morrison 2006b, 276; Rengakos 2006, 287; Gribble 2006, 466 – 467. Brasidas’ speed may have concerned Thucydides also because “his speed is also the cause of Thucydides’ banishment” (Shanske 2009, 56).

48

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

dides may well have considered Brasidas as well, who was the most characteristic example of a general exploiting the tactic of the unexpected invasion.⁶⁸ Similarly, the careful reader, when reading of the secret negotiations the Lesbians and the Chians held with the Spartans, will recall the secret plans of Perdiccas and the Thracian cities in Books II and IV, as well as the double-dealing of the Argives and the Corinthians when attempting to establish their anti-Spartan league in Book V. For all these reasons, Rawlings’ assumptions do not provide a sufficient answer to the question of how the Chios narrative is linked to the previous account in the History. In the following pages, we will attempt to address this issue by suggesting instead that the Chios episode fulfills Thucydides’ laudatory comment on Brasidas (4.81.2– 3) in the Thrace narrative, when the historian relates Brasidas’ activity to the Ionian war. When praising the Spartan for his skillful foreign policy toward the Athenian allies, Thucydides adds that Brasidas was so renowned that, even after a decade, his figure would still suffice to convince the Greeks that Sparta had commanders who would support the weak cities in the anti-Athenian war following the Sicilian disaster. There is a bitter irony to this comment. The reader is invited to contemplate that there would be no generals such as Brasidas in the Ionian war and that believing that new ‘Brasidae’ would come and save the Greeks against the Athenians was a mistake.⁶⁹ The comment is as follows: In the later part of the war after the Sicilian expedition, the courage and intelligence of Brasidas in earlier times, known to some by experience and assumed by others from hearsay (τῶν δὲ ἀκοῇ νομισάντων), especially inspired enthusiasm for the Lacedaimonians among the Athenian allies. For by being the first to go out, and by showing himself a good man in all respects, he left behind the lasting conviction that the others were of the same sort as well. (4.81.2– 3)

Although the comment appears in one of the most-discussed passages of the work,⁷⁰ its connections to Book VIII and its significance for our understanding the compositional choices in the Chios narrative have been overlooked. For example, although many scholars have observed that the comment was obviously written at a later point, that is after the Ionian war, there is a tendency to believe,

 On Thucydides’ comparison of Alcidas (as well as Cnemus) and Brasidas but not Alcibiades, see Westlake 1968, 136 – 150; Lateiner 1975, 175 – 184; Roisman 1987, 411– 418; Wylie 1992/1993, 77; Connor 1984, 128 n. 45; COT II, 41; Badian 1999, 5.  Huart 1968, 147; De Croix 1972, 158; Lewis 1977, 29; COT II, 273.  De Croix 1972, 158; HCT III, 548 – 549; Will 2003, 57, n. 168, 66; Bearzot 2004, 157– 159; Raaflaub 2004, 257 n. 198; Classen 2005, 113 – 126.

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

49

when discussing the Spartan commanders who failed the Greeks’ expectations, that Thucydides means mainly Lysander.⁷¹ Such a view, however correct, does not – and must not – exclude the possibility that Thucydides was also referring to the Spartan officials in the first phase of the Ionian war as described in Book VIII. The participle νομισάντων, which reflects the false hope that the Spartan generals will be like Brasidas, is more reasonably to be associated with the period immediately after the Athenian disaster in Syracuse. This is so because, by the time Lysander was active, such a view had already proven to be unrealistic, due to the mishandling of the situation by so many others before him, such as Astyochus, Mindarus, Pasippidas and Cratesippidas. The comment, therefore, is better explained if we read it as foreshadowing, aside from Lysander’s cruelty, the pro-Spartan enthusiasm that broke out immediately after the Sicilian disaster, as introduced in 8.2– 6 and stressed throughout the Chios narrative. If we ignore this possibility, then it becomes very difficult to penetrate the structure of the Chios narrative as well as its place in the History, specifically its connections with Book IV. The praise for Brasidas foreshadows not merely what will happen but also how it will be narrated, and I thus prefer to describe it as a ‘meta-narrative instruction’ for the reader as regards the arrangement of a later part of the work. Thucydides often uses his personal, encomiastic statements on individuals in order to alert the reader not only to future events but also to the way in which he will shape his text in order to narrate them. The extensive praise for Pericles (2.65) is present throughout the History and prepares the reader for the techniques to be used in order to stress the message of the praise. The comment on Alcibiades (6.15.3) not only betokens the failure of the Athenians in Sicily, but it is also a prelude to the digression on the tyrannicides.⁷² Thucydides’ warm words on Phrynichus (8.27) are validated by the whole account in Book VIII and organize it by generating six echoes that make the plot coherent (see chapter 2). In a similar fashion, Brasidas’ encomium (4.81.2– 3) is not only confirmed by the Chios episode (and by some other parts of Book VIII), but it also instructs the reader as regards the orientation of the plot of the episode.

 For the bibliography on this issue, see COT II, 273. Cf. Will 2003, 57 n. 168 and 66; Bearzot 2004, 157– 159, who recognizes that Thucydides places Brasidas between Pausanias and Lysander.  For the proleptic function of the comments on Pericles, Alcibiades and Brasidas see Rengakos 2006, 286. On the similarity of ch. 2.65 and ch. 4.81 see also Connor 1984, 130 n. 52; Tsakmakis 2006, 182 ff.

50

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

The comment on Brasidas suggests that his success, his boldness in undertaking the expedition against Athens first and by himself, and, most importantly, his modest attitude toward the Athenian allies of Thrace, all together constituted, after almost a decade, the basic – although unsound – argument of those aspiring apostates who believed that Sparta still had leaders as gifted as Brasidas.⁷³ The question, though, is which of the virtues of Brasidas his successors lacked and, moreover, if in the Chios narrative Thucydides focuses on the lack of these virtues and the allies’ mistake in imagining nonexistent Brasidae. Since in 4.81.2– 3 Thucydides gives not his own view of Brasidas but the opinion of the Greeks,⁷⁴ in order to answer these questions, we should focus only on those qualities of Brasidas that, according to the historian, impressed the Greeks and gave hope to the Ionians ten years later. As for his attitude toward the allies, Brasidas took an approach active and was a skillful speaker, while the terms he imposed on his enemies and on the Athenian allies were just and moderate. All this is encapsulated in two words, ἀρετὴ καὶ ξύνεσις, which have been interpreted as both carrying a moral weight and reflecting Brasidas’ intellectual gifts.⁷⁵ From the perspective of the people who trusted him, however, most of these virtues are undermined in the narrative.⁷⁶ His rhetorical skills were not the exclusive reason as to why the Acanthians accepted his terms – their lack of supplies was much more compelling.⁷⁷ The fear of the allies overshadowed Brasidas’ demagogy. Similarly, in the case of Amphipolis, clemency, temperance and justice are again weakened by fear: his terms are accepted as just, but Thucydides explains that the Amphipolitans and the Athenians of the city admitted that the terms were just only because they were afraid (4.106.1). Last, but not least, the romantic image of the liberator

 Classen’s (2005, 121) view that Thucydides here refers only to the Thracians is unnecessarily restrictive. Thucydides speaks in general of the war after Sicily, which also includes the Ionian revolts.  In Bakker’s (2013, 25 – 26) term, this is a “focalised” judgement. Cf. Connor 1984, 131; COT II, 271– 272.  On Thucydides’ admiration of Brasidas’ intellectual virtues, see Westlake 1968, 150; COT II, 56; Badian 1999, 33 – 34; Classen 2005, 116. On the Spartan’s moral virtues see Westlake 1968, 164; COT II, 49 – 50. On Brasidas’ military gifts, as presented by Thucydides in the battle against the Lyngesteans and at Amphipolis see Bodin 1935, 47– 55. Cf. Howie 1992, 438 – 447 on the Homeric presentation of Brasidas’ virtue and its comparison with Cleon’s cowardice. For an overview of Brasidas’virtues in Thucydides see Will 2003, 10 – 22.  I by no means imply here that Thucydides criticizes Brasidas. But see Debnar 20044, 173 ff.  COT II, 57; Badian 1999, 29.

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

51

of Greece dissolves when one reads of the fate of those who refused to accept his offer (4.109.5).⁷⁸ So, which of Brasidas’ virtues so benefited the Athenian allies in 422 BC that the Ionians in 412 BC still believed in the qualities of Spartan generals? Thucydides refers to Brasidas’ dependability, the trustworthiness of a general who kept his word to those he had promised to help if they ever needed him. Not only did he keep his promise, but also he died fulfilling it at Amphipolis (5.10.11). In writing καὶ δόξας εἶναι κατὰ τὰ πάντα ἀγαθός, Thucydides means that the Athenian allies, when describing Brasidas as ἀγαθός, were referring mainly to his dependability and the security it offered at times when they needed Sparta’s help against the Athenians.⁷⁹ Consequently, the virtue which, according to Thucydides, the officers of Sparta did not possess in the Ionian war was dependability. With his comment at 4.81.2– 3, then, the historian is preparing the reader for a central theme in the account of the Ionian war, namely the allies’ mistake of believing that the Spartans would provide adequate aid. Indeed, in the Chios episode (8.1– 24), the historian shapes his narration in such a way that he returns to the theme of the allies’ mistaken belief in unreal Brasidae. This can all be inferred from a number of elements, which we discuss below: i. The escalation. In the first four chapters of Book VIII, Thucydides uses the technique of escalation three times in order to help the reader understand that the following account focuses on the allies: In ch. 1.2 the focalizers are the Athenians. They fear three issues: The Sicilians; their current enemies in Greece; and the allies of Athens, who are characteristically mentioned at the end. In ch. 2.1– 2, the climax is the same, this time stressed by the adverb μάλιστα. The Spartans are optimistic because on their side they have the neutral Greeks, as well as their own allies, and, above all, the allies of Athens (μάλιστα δὲ οἱ τῶν ᾿Aθηναίων ὑπήκοοι). The third gradation lies in ch. 4, where Thucydides describes the preparations by the Athenians. Once again, after a series of precautionary measures, the Athenians’ plans to deal with potential revolts are mentioned at

 Although Will (2003, 16), citing the cases of Acanthus, Amphipolis, Torone and Scione, argues that Brasidas brought reconciliation even where he had initially exploited violence, two other cases, those of Sane and Dion (4.109.3 – 5), show the other side of the coin.  Connor (1984, 126 – 140) rightly observes that one of Thucydides’ main goals in the Thrace account is to show how false the allies’ judgment was and how clever Brasidas was in making them think this way.

52

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

the end as the most important measure, again with the adverb μάλιστα: μάλιστα δὲ τὰ τῶν ξυμμάχων διασκοποῦντες ὅπως μὴ σφῶν ἀποστήσονται.⁸⁰ ii. The ring composition. The episode both begins and ends with the error of the allies, so that it is thematically framed by this ring composition and thereby becomes autonomous in relation to the rest of the narration.⁸¹ In ch. 8.2.2 Thucydides writes that the allies, carried away by their emotions, had become falsely convinced that they would easily destroy Athens with the help of Sparta: […] and most of all, the subjects of the Athenians were ready, even beyond their strength, to revolt from them because of judging matters in a passion and not even conceding them the argument that they would be able to survive at least over the following summer.

The narrative ends in the same way. After describing how the Chians failed to free themselves from the Athenians and their defeat in four successive battles (Cardamyle, Voliscus, Phanes, Leuconion), Thucydides turns, once again, to their mistake, this time in a very emotional manner:⁸² And after this, the Chians now no longer came out against them, and the Athenians plundered their country, which was well stocked and unharmed from the Persian wars up to this time. For the Chians alone, of all the people I have known of next to the Lacedaemonians, have been prosperous and at the same time prudent, and the more their city increased in stature the more securely they ordered themselves. And even this very revolt, if this seems an action of theirs away from the safer course, was not something they ventured to carry out before they were going to share the danger with many excellent allies (ἢ μετὰ πολλῶν τε καὶ ἀγαθῶν ξυμμάχων ἔμελλον ξυγκινδυνεύσειν) and were aware that after the Sicilian disaster not even the Athenians themselves denied any longer their situation was quite terrible; if they went astray (ἐσφάλησαν) somewhere among the unaccountable aspects of human existence, they committed their mistake along with many who held the opinion, that Athens would quickly be destroyed altogether (μετὰ πολλῶν οἷς ταὐτὰ ἔδοξε, τὰ τῶν ᾿Aθηναίων ταχὺ ξυναναιρεθήσεσθαι, τὴν ἁμαρτίαν ξυνέγνωσαν). (8.24.3 – 5)

The historian discusses the Chians’ ultimate failure with humanity and sympathy. He praises them for the prudent administration of their constitution (ἐσω-

 Despite the negative criticism of this repetition, I prefer Saïd’s (2013, 218) interpretation that “this sensible planning is followed with immediate realization, as demonstrated by the echo between 8.1.3 and 8.4.1”.  On the ring composition in Thucydides – especially in Book I – see Katicic 1957; Connor 1984, 29 – 30, 251.  Rood 1998, 256. For a different opinion, see op. cit., n. 25. On this comment, see Kunle 1909, 74– 78.

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

53

φρόνισαν),⁸³ for the prosperity resulting from such a political organization (ηὐδαιμόνησαν), and for their foresight. In addition, the short flashback to the island’s old acme encourages the reader to sympathize with the Chians.⁸⁴ Thucydides closes his comment by clarifying that, although the Chians seem to have been reckless in taking such a great risk without considering the Athenian reaction,⁸⁵ they can hardly be accused of frivolity: they defected only after obtaining the support of πολλῶν τε καὶ ἀγαθῶν ξυμμάχων (8.24.5). Of course, among their many and virtuous allies, the Chians counted first upon the Spartans, believing that a new “Brasidas” would cover their backs. iii. The inner plot. Apart from the ring composition, the protagonists’ actions throughout the whole narrative constantly belie the Chians’ hopes that they will have a Spartan general as virtuous as Brasidas. Thucydides refers to the Chians’ allies, including the Spartans, with the phrase μετὰ πολλῶν καὶ ἀγαθῶν, thereby, prima facie, giving the impression that he is here commenting positively on the anti-Athenian league of this period. A comparative examination, however, leads to different conclusions yet again. In Book V, where Thucydides’ mocking attitude toward the opportunistic and, therefore fragile, alliances is latent, Thucydides uses this phrase in order to offer the reader a slightly ironical contradictoriness of the allies’ ἀγαθόν.⁸⁶ Similarly, in the case of the Chians, Thucydides exploits the phrase in order to belie it. The Chians’ allies are not as ἀγαθοὶ ξύμμαχοι as the Chians believe.

 There should be no doubt about the moral tone of the description (cf. Proctor 1980, 2 ff.), despite the fact that Thucydides refers not to an individual but to a city. Cf. Morrison 2006a, 103 ff; Hunter 1973, 143 n. 24. We should also not reject Proctor’s (1980, 4) view that Thucydides here also means the Chians’ intellectual quality of prudence in waiting for the support of their allies, prudence which renders them tragic figures given that, despite their qualities, they were unable to control the unpredictable nature of the developments. On this, see Proctor 1980, 1– 7 and Luraghi 2011, 187 for further bibliography.  Cf. 2.15 – 16.1 on the Athenians who, for the first time after the Persian Wars, are compelled to abandon their fields and to subsist within their walls. There is an obvious analogy between this analeptic digression and the clearly shorter one on the Chians, who likewise for the first time are forced to see their land being devastated. In both cases, the flashback creates a tragic contrast between the former prosperity and the despondent present due to the war.  The comment bears, indeed, many motifs of the History, such as the historian’s admiration for the Spartans’ constitution or the surprise emerging from the Athenians’ inexhaustible endurance (Shanske 2009, 2– 5). Fellner (1880, 20) includes this chapter among the most elaborate in Book VIII.  Cf. the narrative on the battle of Mantinea (5.59.3 – 4 and 60.2– 5). See Hornblower (20003, 5), who points out that the battle proved that Sparta was the greatest military power on land. Within such an atmosphere, the phrase μετὰ πολλῶν καὶ ἀγαθῶν ξυμμάχων in relation to Sparta’s enemies is thus better seen as ironic and not Thucydides’ personal opinion.

54

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

In diplomacy, the adjective ἀγαθός reflects either the bravery or the military skills of the allies, just as in the case of the Argives and the Athenians in Book V, or the noble purposes of an alliance. In the case of Chios, none of these meanings is served by the individuals’ actions and motives: the Spartans cower at the very first failed attempt to send forces to the island,⁸⁷ while Alcibiades, although much more courageous, has anything but noble motives. Nor do the Spartans have pure intentions in undertaking the anti-Athenian war in Ionia: While all the Greeks seem to entrust their freedom to the Spartans, Thucydides explains that the latter offered their help in the hope that they would rule Greece (8.2.4). Additionally, they underestimated the Athenians’ power and thus made their preparations openly (8.8.4),⁸⁸ thereby ruining the Chian plans to be discrete. As for the other allies who may be included in this phrase, the Corinthians delayed the mission to Chios due to their religious duties, meaning that the Athenians were informed of the preparations of the Peloponnesian navy (8.9.1– 2). The Lesbians failed to revolt, while the ambivalent Teians seemed powerless, as did the rest of the Ionians (8.16.3). The Spartans could not control the situation and the whole narrative unfolds as an extensive antithesis between the Chians’ false impression of ἀγαθῶν ξυμμάχων and the inadequacy and unreliability of the Spartans, serving in this way as a fulfillment of the foreshadowing of 4.81.2– 3 on the falsity of the defectors’ hopes in the Ionian war that a Brasidas would support them. Besides, Astyochus’ activity and the way in which his indif-

 The hesitation of the Spartans is introduced here. The episode begins with the phrase in Β ἅμα δὲ τῷ ἦρι τοῦ ἐπιγιγνομένου θέρους εὐθύς (7.1). Goodhart (1893, 13) is cautious, while Andrewes (HCT V, 20) suggests instead the τοῦ δ’ ἐπιγιγνομένου … of the other cods. However, B must be the right version: As Hornblower (COT III, 777– 778) observes, Andrewes’ suggestion means that the Spartans act not in the spring but later, i. e. with a delay, although this view does not suit Thucydides’ purpose to contrast the εὐέλπιδες (2.4) Spartans to the ἀθυμήσαντες (11.3) Spartans after the unexpected development in the plot, a contrast which is usual in Thucydides, especially with regard to the Spartans (cf. 2.82– 87; 3.16.2; 4.55.1– 4; as an opinion in a speech see 2.61.3). In this respect, it is more reasonable to accept that the Spartans sent forces to the Chians in the spring instead of the summer, still being εὐέλπιδες before their first failure on the isthmus. If we accept Andrewes’ version, the Spartans seem to be otiose from the very beginning, with the contrast described above disappearing in this way. Besides, there is no reason not to accept Delebecque’s (1967, 18) view that the ἅμα τῷ ἦρι of ch. 7.1 is foreshadowed by the ὡς εὐθὺς πρὸς τὸ ἔαρ ἑξόμενοι τοῦ πολέμου of ch. 3.2.  Steup rejects the paragraph, in the belief that it does not fit well with the Spartans’ efforts in ch. 8.3. Hornblower’s answer that there is no serious contradiction between the two paragraphs (COT III, 781) does not suffice. On the contrary, the two paragraphs deliberately constitute an oxymoron, highlighting once more the Spartans’ mistake in overestimating the Athenians’ endurance, which is, after all, the central subject of the episode, culminating in the concluding comment of ch. 24.5.

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

55

ference to the Chians’ escalating requests is emphasized by the historian allow us to conclude that Thucydides, in observing these events, may well have had Brasidas’ dependability in mind.⁸⁹ iv. The Chians’ leading role. Throughout the episode, the Chians are the protagonists and their actions are the main coherence element of the narrative, which essentially is the aristeia of an Athenian ally trying to revolt. v. Other similarities between the accounts of Thrace and Chios: Thucydides’ personal comments on the allies’ mistake. The view outlined above, i.e. that Thucydides sought in the Chios narrative to link Brasidas’ fame with the mistake of the Chians, also offers a satisfactory explanation as why the revolt typenarratives of Books IV and VIII are the only revolt episodes in which Thucydides expresses his own view on the futility of the allies’ efforts. Both the Thracians and the Ionians are described as victims of their own enthusiastic frivolity. The Thracians were not afraid of the Athenians (4.108.4: ἄδεια ἐφαίνετο αὐτοῖς), because they did not expect them to react; their desire controlled their judgment (4.108.4: τὸ δὲ πλέον βουλήσει κρίνοντες ἀσαφεῖ ἢ προνοίᾳ ἀσφαλεῖ). The words used to describe the Thracians’ psychological state reveal their emotional tension, which overwhelms their reason: (4.108.4: ἐπιθυμοῦσιν; 4.108.6: ἡδονήν). These feelings inevitably gave them blind hopes (4.108.4: ἐλπίδι ἀπερισκέπτῳ).⁹⁰ This analysis resembles Book VIII: After the Athenian failure in Sicily, it was the Athenian allies, again propelled by their emotions and not by their reason, who desired most to weaken Athens (8.2.2: διὰ τὸ ὀργῶντες κρίνειν τὰ πράγματα).⁹¹ The πλέον … ἢ προνοίᾳ ἀσφαλεῖ of the Thracians corresponds to the παρὰ τὸ ἀσφαλέστερον (8.24.5) of the Ionians. In both cases, Thucydides criticizes the allies’ shallowness, which leads them to a mistaken underestimation of the Athenians. Finally, in both cases the allies then recant this position. Of the Thracians we read “a mistake about Athenian power as great as the obviousness of that power later on” (4.108.4), while the Chians “committed their mistake along with many” Ionians, as they had not expected that the Athenians would survive more than

 This is why Thucydides cannot have composed ch. 1– 24, in order to praise Spartan effectiveness in support of the allies, as Rawlings claimed.  The view that Thucydides did not take account of the possibility that Brasidas’ policy was inconsiderate (Westlake 1968, 153) is valid only if this policy is seen from the Spartan perspective, that is with the criterion of the positive results it had for Sparta (Classen 2005, 117). We should not forget that Thucydides approaches the subject also from the perspective of the Athenian allies, inviting the reader to conclude that, from this point of view, the whole enterprise was futile. On Thucydides’ multifaceted analysis of Brasidas’ efforts see Will 2003, 14.  On the connection between 4.108.6 and 8.2.2 see HCT V, 8.

56

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

a few months. Finally, in both Thrace and Ionia, the allies strove to gain Sparta’s support. (4.108.3//8.5 – 6).⁹² The author’s interest in the individual who deceives the allies. Another common element of the two narratives, which also differentiates them from the other revolt episodes, is the emphasis on the activity of the individual who deceives the allies. We have Brasidas in Thrace and Alcibiades in the Chios episode. Brasidas let it be known in the whole of Thrace that at Nissaea in Megara he had challenged the Athenians with no support from his allies, yet the Athenians had not dared to face him (4.108.5). Thucydides makes his view clear: The Spartan’s words were “appealing and untrue” (4.108.5). Moreover, the case of Acanthus is characteristically revealing of how Thucydides shows the reader that Brasidas’ slogan of “the liberator of Greece” (4.108.2) was fake.⁹³ In essence, Brasidas is presented as a liar who knows that the Acanthians cannot react, although they are well aware of his mendacity. Thucydides purposely puts Brasidas’ speech in his account of the first city that the Spartan approached. In his narrative of Torone and Scione, he will later state that Brasidas said to them what he had also said to the Acanthians (4.114.3; 4.120.3). In this way, Thucydides implies that Brasidas acted the hypocrite in these cities too, just as he had in Acanthus.⁹⁴ Alcibiades plays a similar role in the Chios episode.⁹⁵ From the very first chapter, Thucydides states that the Athenians, despite their fear and panic in response to the very difficult situation, vigorously set to work to form a new navy so as to confront their enemies (8.1.4). In contrast, the Spartans, although having the advantage, lost their courage after their first failure (8.11.3) and decided to cancel the expedition to Ionia. Alcibiades intervened and convinced them to send ships to Chios before the Ionians were informed that the first mission had been destroyed by the Athenians at the isthmus. Alcibiades’ argument is that there is no one better than him to convince the Ionians to revolt – an echo of the confidence the Thracians had due to Brasidas – and that he will conceal the Spartan defeat from the Chians and convince them of the Spartans’ eagerness (8.12.1: προθυμίαν) and the Athenians’ weakness. Three chapters later, Thucydides belies Al-

 See Connor (1984, 213 n. 7), who, however, mentions the similarities only between 4.108.3 and 8.5 – 6. See also Watts-Tobin (2001, 93), on Thucydides’ opinion of the Thracians in 4.108.3 and the Chians in 8.24.  On Brasidas’ lies to the Acanthians concerning the Athenians’ retreat at Nissaea, see Debnar 20044, 178 – 183. Cf. Tamiolaki 2013, 56 – 57.  On the paradigmatic role of Acanthus, see Westlake 1968, 152; Wylie 1992/1993, 81; Will 2003, 15.  See Forde 1995, 144 on the similarity between the two men concerning their decisive role in the international relations of their age.

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

57

cibiades: the Athenians are informed of the Chians’ revolt and immediately take precautionary measures with great eagerness (8.15.2: καὶ πολλὴ ἦν ἡ προθυμία καὶ ὀλίγον ἐπράσσετο οὐδὲν ἐς τὴν βοήθειαν τὴν ἐπὶ τὴν Χίον).⁹⁶ Just as ch. 4.84 and ch. 88 frame Brasidas’ speech in a way that contradicts it, ch. 8.11 and ch. 15 undermine the credibility of Alcibiades’ reassurances to the unsuspecting Chians: the Athenians, winners at the isthmus and full of eagerness, are insincerely presented as weak, while the Spartans, defeated and fearful, are presented as eager. The tragic irony at the expense of the Chians is elaborately stressed and has been discussed by scholars. However, the Chian tragedy is not to be found only in this incident, but it runs throughout the episode and is assisted by Alcibiades. First, Alcibiades deceived the islanders when he advocated the mission to Chios as a response to the dilemma Hellespont or Chios. After this, when Chios had revolted from Athens, Alcibiades went to Miletus in order to organize its defection as well. Although he intended to share the glory of Miletus’ defection with Chalcideus and the Chians, the Chians are presented as having been totally excluded from this diplomatic development. In ch. 19.1 they sail – characteristically alone – to Anaea in order to get information on the situation in Miletus. Alcibiades’ motive for including the Chians in Miletus’ success does not fit well with their picture at Anaea, where they are presented as figures desperate to be informed of the developments although everyone ignores them. the troop supplies. In both cases, there is an important ruler, whom Thucydides connects to the issue of supplies, the Macedonian king Perdiccas in Thrace and the satrap Tissaphernes in Ionia. Thucydides clarifies from the very beginning the reasons as to why both these men joined forces with Sparta: One reason why Perdiccas approached the Spartans was to weaken his enemy Arrhabaeus (4.79.2; 83.1), while Tissaphernes intended to present Amorges – dead or alive – to the great King (8.5.5). It is not a coincidence that in both cases, the plans of Perdiccas and Tissaphernes gradually came to harm the agreement with Sparta over military supplies. When Brasidas did not satisfy Perdiccas’ desire to neutralize Arrhabaeus (4.82– 83), the Macedonian king reacted by reducing supplies to the army (4.83.6). Similarly, Thucydides chooses to mention for the first time that Tissaphernes did not keep his agreement with the Spartans over the amount paid to the soldiers (8.29)⁹⁷ in the chapter immediately after the fulfillment of Tis-

 Proctor (1980, 3) writes: “One feels the same glow of admiration in his description of the energetic measures which the Athenians took to put down the Chian revolt as soon as the news of it arrived in Athens”. On the connection of ch. 12.1 with ch. 15.2 see Rood 1998, 258 – 259.  Tissaphernes, having already fulfilled both of his goals, to exterminate Amorges and to dislodge the Athenians from his territory, can now oppose the Spartans’ desires. See Kunle 1909, 24.

58

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

saphernes’ goal against Amorges (8.28). Westlake suggests that the conflict between Brasidas and Perdiccas can be compared to that between Tissaphernes and the Spartans⁹⁸ – a comparison Thucydides himself made. The similarity between these last two cases has deeper roots, which explain why it is even more probable that Thucydides linked the Ionian war to Brasidas’ exploits in Thrace rather than to some other revolt during the Peloponnesian war. In order to understand how Thucydides conceived of the relationship between the two, we should consider that in both cases the Spartans attempt a long-distance enterprise, which is the center of Thucydides’ interest: in the Archaeology, he believes most of the hostilities of the past to be unimportant because they concerned neighboring cities and were not distant campaigns (1.15.2). Since the Persian Wars, the Athenians had developed their naval power and were thus able to undertake much more intimidating expeditions. In contrast, the Spartans had confined their ambitions to the narrow limits of the Peloponnese, probably not only from fear that the Helots would rise up against them (1.118.2)⁹⁹, but also to protect the traditional institutions of their country from infectious contacts with Persia.¹⁰⁰ This antithesis between Athenian polypragmosyne and Spartan introversion comes to the foreground in the Pentecontaetia,¹⁰¹ when the reader sees the Athenians fighting both the Peloponnesians and the Persians in Egypt as well as their allies who attempt to revolt, all at the same time, while the Spartans barely – after almost ten years¹⁰² – manage to repress the Helot revolution during the so-called Third Messenian War. The contrast culminates in the first speech of the Corinthians at Sparta,¹⁰³ when the Corinthians disparage the Spartans pre-

 Westlake 1968, 152.  Cf. Rood 1998, 235; De Croix 2002, 192; Ruzé/Christien 2007, 208. On how the Third Messenian War affected the foreign policy of Sparta, see Oliva 1971, 155 – 161; Oliva 1986, 317– 326; Kennell 2010, 77.  Besides, incidents such as Pausanias’ Medism sufficed to prove the potential “infection” of their world by the gold of the Persian court (1.95).  Hammond 1952, 127– 141; Westlake 1955, 53 – 67; HCT I, 359 – 360; Walker 1957, 27– 38; French 1971; Rawlings 1981, 91; Stadter 1993, 42– 48; Pritchett 1995; Tsakmakis 1995, 64– 100; Rengakos 2006, 291 on the acceleration of the narrative pace through which this antithesis is stressed; Taylor 2010, 19 ff.; Wecowski 2013.  Thucydides’ version of δεκάτῳ ἔτει is not generally accepted. For the discussion on this issue see Oliva 1971, 156 ff.  Cf. Debnar 20044, 3. On the antithesis Athenians/Spartans in this speech, see Andrewes 1959, 236 – 237; Gundert 1968; Rhodes 1987, 155; Rood 1998, 43 – 46; Price 2001, 147– 151; Will 2003, 33 – 35; Cartledge/Debnar 2006, 561; Taylor 2010, 14– 21; Foster 2010, 82– 85.

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

59

cisely for their unwillingness to go beyond the realms of their land (1.70.4: ἀποδημηταὶ πρὸς ἐνδημοτάτους). From this perspective, in Thucydides’ mind the Spartan expeditions to Thrace and Ionia are more closely connected with each other than with the others, as in both cases the Spartans finally venture to do what they had never done in the past, namely to organize a distant campaign in order to weaken the Athenians.¹⁰⁴ Thucydides sees Brasidas’ activities in Thrace as constituting the Spartans’ first grandiose expedition (4.81.3: πρῶτος γὰρ ἐξελθών). Therefore, given that the historian considered Brasidas’ campaign the first worthwhile exodos of the Spartans, the previous expeditions to Thrace, Acarnania and Lesbos were, to his mind, not of the same importance. Thucydides thus linked one of the most central subjects in the narrative of the Ionian war, the Spartans’ conduct of war in a distant expedition,¹⁰⁵ primarily with the activities of Brasidas.¹⁰⁶

3.2 The Chios narrative as a foreshadowing of the defeat of the Spartans at Cyzicus As regards the place of the Chios narrative in the wider account of the History, in this chapter we have attempted to answer the first part of the question, namely which instances of foreshadowing found earlier in the work does it fulfill. In order to answer the second part of the question (what would the Chios narrative itself foreshadow in the subsequent narrative, in a potentially complete History), we must always bear in mind that the work is unfinished. As Raaflaub observes, Thucydides lived for some years after the end of the war and certainly interpreted many of the events that he narrated in relation to certain others that he was unable to include in his work.¹⁰⁷ In the final pages of this chapter, we will outline some of the possible ways in which Thucydides may have connected the Chios narrative to some of the events that he may have written about if he had been able to continue his account.¹⁰⁸ In particular, we propose that the case of Chios foreshadows the

 For the socio-political connotations of this change in Thucydides’ mind, see Ober 2006, 137.  On the central role of this subject in the eighth book, see Mewes 1868, 6.  Cf. Finley’s (1942, 84) observation that the attempt to connect Brasidas to the Ionian war indicates Thucydides’ circular view of the historical development.  Raaflaub 2013, 9.  Nevertheless, it should be borne in mind that the thoughts expressed below are purely hypothetical, given that, as Andrewes (HCT V, 67) has said, “the History stops too soon for us to be sure how Thucydides saw the Ionian War as a whole”.

60

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

peace offer the Spartans made after their defeat at Cyzicus. Building on the narrative of the first four books, we argue that, from Book VIII onwards, Thucydides intended to shape his account in such a way so as to claim that, just as at the outbreak of the war, after the Sicilian disaster the Spartans foolishly started a war instead of making peace. They were then forced to make peace offering after their own defeat at Cyzicus. The strongest argument in favor of this is that we already have a similar narrative thread, which starts with the Athenians’ warnings to Sparta in 432 BC that if the Spartans begin the war, they will eventually be forced to beg for peace, and ends with the confirmation of these warnings in Book IV where, after their defeat at Sphacteria, the Spartans request a peace agreement. The narrative line of assembly at Sparta – peace offer after Sphacteria would possibly have occurred from Book VIII onwards as beginning of the Ionian war – peace offer after Cyzicus. As already observed, in the first chapters of Book VIII, Thucydides composes the beginning of the Ionian war in the same way he did the opening of the Archidamian War in Book II: The phrase ουδὲν ἄλλο ἢ ὥσπερ ἀρχομένων ἐν κατασκευῇ τοῦ πολέμου (8.5.1) at the opening of Book VIII echoes the ἀρχόμενοι γὰρ πάντες ὀξύτερον ἀντιλαμβάνονται of Book II (2.8.1). There are further similarities in terms both of structure and content. In both cases, Thucydides focuses on the same issues: a) the Spartans’ preparations, divided into diplomatic negotiations with Persia, approaches to their allies, collecting of funds, and building of ships; b) the Athenians’ preparations and their status at the beginning of the war, concerning the economy, military, navy and young soldiers; and c) lastly, a description of the general atmosphere in the Greek cities (motives, feelings).¹⁰⁹ In what follows, we will present some further, hitherto unmentioned, similarities between the two openings. The basic theme in both is the unwillingness – or the inability – of the enemies of peace to accept that they cannot predict the outcome of the war. As we saw, Thucydides concluded in a sympathetic manner that neither the Chians nor their allies could effectively cope with the unpredictable nature of war.¹¹⁰ This is reminiscent of the Athenians’ warnings in the first opening (1.78.1– 3).¹¹¹ Archidamus speaks in a similar way. He believes that this

 The anti-Athenian climate present in these chapters has been noted by many scholars. See Fellner 1880, 36 – 37; HCT V, 8 – 9; Connor 1984, 213, n. 7; Rood 1998, 254.  On the unexpected character of the war in Thucydides, see collectively Finley 1942, 167– 168 and 297; Stahl 1966; Romilly 2003, 101– 113.  On tragic advisors in Thucydides see Hunter 1973, 123 – 146. On a possible Herodotean influence see Lattimore 1939, 24– 35; Will 2003, 37 n. 107. Cf. E. Ph. 721, 735, 746, where Creon, just like the Athenians and Archidamus, advises Eteocles in a similar way (721: καὶ τὸ μὴν νικᾶν ἐστι πᾶν εὐβουλίας; 735: βουλεύου δ’, ἐπείπερ εἶ σοφός). And when Eteocles asks

3 The place of the Chios narrative in the wider plot of the History

61

war will be μήτε ἀγαθὸν καὶ ἀσφαλές (1.80.1), resembling the ἀγαθῶν and ἐσφάλησαν of ch. 8.24.6. He advises his compatriots not to get their hopes too high (1.81.6: μὴ γὰρ δὴ ἐκείνῃ γε τῇ ἐλπίδι ἐπαιρώμεθα),¹¹² with the ἐλπίδι and ἐπαιρώμεθα reflecting the ἐπηρμένοι ἦσαν καὶ εὐέλπιδες of 8.2.1– 4. In both beginnings, Thucydides elaborates on the negative effect of emotions on human reason.¹¹³ In Book VIII, many believed that βραχὺν ἔσεσθαι τὸν λοιπὸν πόλεμον and that they would soon be rid of the Athenians διὰ τάχους (8.2.1), while the allies of Athens would be ready to revolt in the false hope that the Athenians could no longer endure διὰ τὸ ὀργῶντες κρίνειν τὰ πράγματα (8.2.2). The other Greeks were ἐπηρμένοι (2.1) and the Spartans were εὐέλπιδες (2.4). As we have seen, the antithesis between reason and speed/anger is also repeated at the end of the episode in a ring composition. We read of the same behaviors in the first beginning. There, Sthenelaidas’ speech (1.86.1– 5) reflects the rashness of the Greeks’ decision to declare war against Athens. The Spartan ephor’s inability to rebut many of Archidamus’ sober and strong arguments,¹¹⁴ as well as the intense and emotional tone of his words in contrast to Archidamus’ and the Athenians’ solid arguments against the war¹¹⁵ are just some of the indicators of the absence of logic and composure in the first beginning. In both openings, the narrative contradicts the description of the instigators of war as ἀγαθοί. As we saw above, at the beginning of the Ionian war, Thucydides is critical of the Chians’ hopes that their allies will be “αγαθοί”. Similarly, in the first beginning, the ξύμμαχοι ἀγαθοί of Sthenelaidas evaporate. The supporters of the war decided that πολεμητέα εἶναι ἐν τάχει (1.79.2), because ὀργῇ εἶχον οἱ πλείους τοὺς ᾿Aθηναίους (2.8.5), while Sthenelaidas himself de-

him what he should choose in the battle, θάρσει or φρενῶν εὐβουλίᾳ (746), he answers that ἀμφότερ᾿. ἓν ἀπολειφθὲν γὰρ οὐδὲν θατέρου. On Thucydides and Euripides, see Finley 1938, 23 – 68.  On the exemplary role of the speeches of Book I, see Schwartz 1919, 102– 116; Romilly 1956, 25 ff.; Hunter 1973, 99; Immerwahr in Stadter 1973, 25; Bloedow 1981, 129; Bloedow 1987, 65 – 66; Kallet-Marx 1993, 87. On the cross-references between the speeches of the Corinthians, Archidamus and Pericles, see Edmunds 1975, 90 ff.; Connor 1984, 49 – 51.  The opening of the war with anger and without reason resembles the Trojan War and Achilles’ μῆνιν. The Homeric influences are anything but unconscious. See the Introduction. On the comparison of 2.8.4 with Book VIII see Proctor 1980, 3.  Schwartz 1919, 106; Bloedow 1981, 131– 136, 143; Connor 1984, 39; Hussey 1985, 129; Bloedow 1987, 64– 65; Kallet-Marx 1993, 86 – 87. On Sthenelaidas’ speech, see also Debnar 20044, 69 – 75.  Immerwahr in Stadter 1973, 24; Bloedow 1981, 136. On the rhetorical techniques in this speech, see Allison 1984, 9 – 16; Bloedow 1987, 60 – 66; Arnold 1992, 50 – 51; Francis 1991– 1993, 203 – 204.

62

Chapter 1 The revolt type-narratives and the account of Chios (8.1 – 24)

mands τιμωρητέα ἐν τάχει καὶ παντὶ σθένει (1.86.3). Given Thucydides’ skepticism on whether someone can be ἀγαθός if he also judges and decides ἐν τάχει and ὀργῇ, we can easily comprehend the antithesis that the historian purposely creates, in order to inveigh against the decision to declare war. In Diodotus’ speech, which is justifiably considered to incorporate Thucydides’ own views,¹¹⁶ we read: νομίζω δὲ δύο τὰ ἐναντιώτατα εὐβουλίᾳ εἶναι, τάχος τε καὶ ὀργήν, ὧν τὸ μὲν μετὰ ἀνοίας φιλεῖ γίγνεσθαι, τὸ δὲ μετὰ ἀπαιδευσίας καὶ βραχύτητος γνώμης (3.42.1). These words suffice to prove that in both openings Thucydides deliberately presents the ἀγαθοί supporters of the war as deciding recklessly. In the first opening, the Athenians note that, due to their imprudence, men first act and then negotiate. This statement opens a circle of events, which ends with the fulfillment of this prediction in the Spartans’ peace offer. This historical circle begins with the Athenians’ warnings and ends with the Spartans’ defeat at Pylos. Thucydides would probably have composed a similar narrative line that would have extended from the Chios narrative up to the Spartans’ defeat at Cyzicus, if he had been able to narrate the war up to this point. The circle would end with the Spartan defeat at Cyzicus and the peace proposal they made (D.S. 13.52.3 – 53.4; Philoch. F 139). After the sea battle, we would probably have read some comments by Thucydides, either made explicitly or in a speech, with which he would return to: a) the imprudence of those who had believed that, after the Sicilian expedition, Athens was exhausted;¹¹⁷ b) to the unpredictability of fear; and c) to chance. Moreover, it is possible that Thucydides would have discussed the greed of the Athenians in their decision not to accept the Spartan offer, just as they had not accepted it after Pylos.¹¹⁸ However, we should concede the limits of our knowledge. These assumptions, as with any of this kind, are all on a hypothetical level.

 Wassermann 1956, 27– 41; Winnington-Ingram 1965, 70 – 82; Nicolai 2011, 162. On the connection of this speech with παράλογον see Rutland 1984, 18 ff. Diodotus’ words, as Edmunds (1975, 65) aptly points out, reflect Pericles’ thoughts in 2.42– 43 of the Funeral speech, strengthening the possibility that Diodotus is expressing Thucydides’ own views, given that Thucydides embraces Pericles’ political thought. On the opposite view, namely that at least some speeches do not comprise Thucydides’ views, see Kagan 1975b, 71– 95; Kagan 2009, 39.  Cf. Connor 1984, 211.  On the greed of the Athenians after their victory at Pylos, see Cornford 1907, 183 – 184; Balot 2001, 163 – 165; Zumbrunnen 2008, 129 n. 9. On the possibility that in 2.65 Thucydides was referring to Cleophon’s policy against the peace offer after the Athenian victory at Cyzicus and the still obscure issue of whether the Spartans made a peace offer after the battle of Arginousae (Arist. Ath. 34.1), see, e. g., Cawkwell 1997, 57– 58.

Conclusions

63

Conclusions Thus far, we have discussed the first twenty-four chapters of Book VIII. We have seen that they constitute a revolt type-narrative with the Chians as the protagonists and in which we can discern all the stereotypical motifs of this kind of narrative. This observation is also important because some of these motifs may offer answers to certain objections made of the book. For example, the focus on the Chians stems from Thucydides’ typical tactic of paying attention to the key city in such cases, while the motif of the fast pace is to be understood as a conscious choice, and not as an indicator of the book’s apparent sketchiness. Moreover, the speed of developments in Book VIII seems to exclude the possibility that in these chapters Thucydides intended to add speeches, which would have interrupted the pace. As for the problem of the spatial fragmentation, we discussed certain techniques through which the author attempted to avoid transferring the field of action or, when this was viable, at least to make such transfers as imperceptible as possible. We then explained that the placement of the first document is deliberate and fits well with Thucydides’ general methodology, while the short digression on politics at Samos is connected to the Pathology: Thucydides deliberately positioned it here in order to avoid narrative intricacy in the following chapters. As for its connections to the wider plot of the History, the Chios narrative confirms the comment on Brasidas in Book IV, and was probably intended to foreshadow the Spartans’ defeat at Cyzicus.

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I: The echoes of Phrynichus’ admonitions (8.25 – 107) We have thus far elaborated on the first twenty-four chapters of Book VIII. These may justifiably be considered as constituting an autonomous revolt type-narrative, focusing on the efforts of the Chians, in an episode that: a) has all the motifs of such units; b) is internally constructed on the basis of certain coherence techniques; and c) is narrowly associated with the overall plot of the work. Up to now, the plot had unfolded expeditiously, with the rapid pace being a distinctive feature of revolt type-narratives and perhaps also explaining the absence of speeches in this part of the book. After completing the Chios narrative, Thucydides turns to composing the next section of the book, that of ch. 25– 107. The transition is highlighted by the deceleration of the pace by means of the following two techniques: First, we read the description of the battle at Miletus, in which the successive transferences of the field of action suddenly stop; second, immediately after this battle, Phrynichus’ speech in indirect discourse freezes the tempo further and introduces the subject of the new narrative phase, that is whether the Athenians should now aim at confronting the Peloponnesian fleet or not. Apart from the deceleration of the pace, another indication that ch. 25 opens a new section is the chiastic structure between ch. 27– 28 and ch. 29 – 30. In this new narrative phase, the Chians are no longer the central theme of the plot; instead, the focal interest, introduced by Phrynichus’ speech, lies now in the possibility of a decisive naval battle, which is also indicated by the frequent use of the verb διαναυμαχεῖν and of other compound verbs beginning with the prefix διά- from ch. 25 until ch. 106. In the Introduction, we argued that we can better comprehend a work if we have a full picture of it, without undervaluing any of its parts, than if we were to ignore certain portions of it. Conversely, we can also define the parts of a story in a more effective way by examining their relations to the whole to which they belong to and their functions in it. These thoughts are of great importance for our understanding of ch. 25 – 107, given that these chapters belong to a wider narrative, which has already begun in Book VII with the Athenian defeat at Syracuse and will end in the last chapters of Book VIII with the Athenian victory at the naval battle of Cynos Sema. This large unit of the History deals with how the Athenians manage to restore their confidence in their naval operations and rebuild their reputation in the eyes of the other Greek cities. Thucydides’ purpose is the same as in the Chios narrative, namely to show that the hopes of the DOI 10.1515/9783110533071-003

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

65

Greeks that Athens had collapsed after the Sicilian disaster were unfounded, the difference now being that the author’s focus shifts from the allies to the two great belligerents, Athens and Sparta. In this chapter, it will be argued that almost three quarters of Book VIII (25 – 107) constitute the last part of this large narrative unit. Indeed, the Athenians’ successive naval defeats in the port of Syracuse had led most of the Greeks to the conclusion that it was just a matter of time before the Greek world was to lose the binary character mentioned in the previous chapter, and that Sparta would become their only ruler. In Book VIII, Thucydides re-enacts this pan-Hellenic effort to change the power status in Greece. The thoughts of neorealists on the phenomenon of power exchange in the History are, once again, worth mentioning: According to Waltz, Thucydides believed that, although it was totally reasonable that the Greek cities considered Athens their tyrant and Sparta their liberator, these roles did not reflect the stable moral ideology of the Greek cities, but were instead merely masks to be exchanged as soon as the power balance was disrupted.¹ Gilpin also admits that, in many cases, the Thucydidean account reflects this “hegemonic war”, i. e., the battle for the shifting of power from one powerful city to another.² The question is whether Thucydides produced a type-narrative for the narration of periods of potential power transfer as well, just as he had for the revolts. This question can be answered affirmatively, something that is of great importance for Book VIII. The narrative from the Sicilian failure up to the Athenians’ recovery in the naval battle of Cynos Sema is not the only example of the potential power transfer; its twin narrative extends from the Spartans’ defeat at Sphacteria up to their comeback in the battle of Mantinea. In this chapter it will be shown that Thucydides composed both narratives in similar way: In both cases, a powerful city loses its prestige due to a military failure and is consequently believed by most Greeks to have exhausted its powers. However, the city eventually wins a battle and thereby manages to prove to everyone that it remains equally powerful. After their defeat at Sphacteria, the Spartans seemed embarrassed and had lost their confidence, while their allies, one after the other, started to revolt. Nevertheless, in the battle of Mantinea, the Spartans prove both to themselves as well as to the other cities that they are just as powerful. Correspondingly, after their debacle in Sicily, the Athenians were likewise assumed both by themselves as well as by the other Greeks to be teetering under the blows of consecutive defections. And yet, in the naval battle of Cynos Sema,

 Waltz 2011, 270, 389 n. 10.  Gilpin 1981, 93 – 96.

66

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

they were able to restore both their own faith in their city and their fame in Greece. Both narratives begin prior to the great defeat itself. In particular, although the account leading to the Spartans’ failure at Sphacteria begins in ch. 4.3.1, the unit Sphacteria – Mantinea starts some chapters before, in the account on the operations of the Athenian Demosthenes in Aetolia, where the neutralization of the hoplites of the Athenian army by the light-armed Aetolians acts as a prelude to the conflict between hoplites and light-armed men at Sphacteria. In the same way, the naval battle of Erineos (7.34) prepares the reader for the defeats of the Athenian navy by the innovatively constructed triremes of their enemies in the Great Harbour of Syracuse. Just as the battle in Aetolia acts as a prelude to Sphacteria, the naval battle of Erineos paves the way for the war in Syracuse. For this reason, it is better to consider the beginning of both narratives not from the great defeat itself but from the preparation of the reader for it. Moreover, both units consist of the same structural parts: (1) the prelude to the great defeat; (2) the great defeat; (3) the description of the losers’ low morale after the blow; (4) the presentation of the events suggestive of the low morale; (5) the postponement of the final recovery; and (6) the eventual comeback. Although 8.25 – 107 are only the last part of the account Syracuse – Cynos Sema, the narrative will here be analyzed from its beginning in Book VII, so as to give the reader an overall picture of the whole that Book VIII belongs to. In this way, it will hopefully be clearer how the book is linked to the rest of the work. This chapter demonstrates the structural parts (motifs) of the type-narrative, as they appear in both samples (Sphacteria – Mantinea for the Spartans and Syracuse – Cynos Sema for the Athenians) while, for the sake of economy, the analysis of the fifth part of the type-narrative (postponements of the final recovery) is left for the next chapter.

1 A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat The prelude can be defined as the creation of a first, general and vague picture of what follows. The term is easily associated with foreshadowing, although it is hardly the same. The basic difference between the two techniques is that foreshadowing concerns mainly the plot of the story, as it prepares the reader to accept a future plot event as something totally reasonable and natural. A prelude, on the other hand, offers a small hint, a kind of foretaste, where we are given a first, general and vague idea of something that is to happen at the following points of the plot. In this way, the narrator psychologically prepares the reader

1 A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat

67

for what follows. The prelude is the first part of the type-narratives of loss of prestige and recovery in Thucydides. i. The battle of Aegition as a prelude to the Spartans’ defeat at Sphacteria. In the spring of 425 BC, the Athenian fleet was on its way to Western Greece. The Athenians were planning to send some ships to Sicily and some others to Corcyra. As the two admirals Eurymedon and Sophocles were about to carry out the plan, Demosthenes suggested that they should instead land on Pylos, in order to build a fort, from where they would be able to create serious trouble for the Spartans. Despite the initial skeptical reception of this idea the triremes were, however, forced by a rough sea to land at Pylos. After much discussion and consultation, the admirals eventually gave Demosthenes permission to remain there with five ships. They then sailed to Corcyra while Demosthenes started building a fort (4.3 – 5). The Spartans, as soon as they are made aware of this, recall their forces from Attica and their navy from Corcyra. They attack Demosthenes and his few men, although with little result. Three days after the battle, the Athenian fleet returns from Corcyra to Pylos and, after defeating the Spartan fleet, starts besieging 420 Spartan hoplites who, in the meanwhile, had been blockaded on Sphacteria, a small island near Pylos. Demosthenes’ strategy proved to be a great success: Since 180 of the besieged were members of the most distinguished families of Sparta, the Spartans, in the hope of saving these imminent citizens, make a truce with the Athenians and send envoys to Athens to negotiate peace, in order to convince their enemies to free the besieged men of Sphacteria. The negotiations were fruitless, however, and after the truce expires the Athenians continue besieging the 420 men (4.6 – 22). In the following months, the Athenian besiegers suffer from a lack of supplies, and their compatriots in Athens fear that the upcoming winter will force the soldiers to leave Pylos without having achieved anything. Cleon is sent to Pylos with reinforcements, mainly of light-armed men. In collaboration with Demosthenes, he attacks Sphacteria and achieves the surrender of the Spartan hoplites, who are then taken to Athens. In such a harsh environment as Sphacteria, the Spartans were unable to repel the more flexible light-armed fighters of the Athenian army (4.23 – 41). Thucydides’ description of the battle at Sphacteria reflects his intention to disparage the new way of war with light-armed fighters, which Demosthenes had become acquainted with during his commandership the previous summer in Western Greece (3.94– 98 and 105 – 114). The way the historian chooses to finish the narrative of Sphacteria betrays his negativism: An Athenian, in his effort to embarrass one of the surviving Spartan hoplites, asks him if those of his comrades who had been killed by the arrows and the stones of the light-armed men

68

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

on the island were braver than him and all the others who chose to surrender. The Spartan ironically answers that arrows would be priceless, if they could choose only the brave (4.40.2)! This anecdote, as well as many other elements analyzed in the following pages, demonstrates that Thucydides described the new military method in order to belittle it and thereby foreshadow the recovery of Spartan prestige, which was indeed damaged after the surrender of the Spartan hoplites and little resembled the old glory of Leonidas’ hoplites at Thermopylae (4.40.1). The whole of Greece no longer believed that Sparta was as powerful as had previously been assumed. Thucydides’ message, though, is quite the opposite: Only chance and special circumstances had generated such a misconception; special circumstances that, in Thucydides’ mind, could hardly last forever. It was therefore only a matter of time before historical developments would lead to a hoplite clash, the battle of Mantinea six years later, which would prove that the Greeks should not have hastened to disparage the Spartans. The whole description of the battle of Sphacteria, the historian’s aim to make excuses for the hoplites and to denigrate the light-armed troops, transmits this message and foreshadows the Spartans’ recovery at Mantinea. Thucydides does not introduce the subject of the new military tactics in the narrative on Sphacteria. The description of the battle at Aegition, a year earlier, prepares the reader for the upcoming central role of the light-armed men in the events at Pylos. Here is a short summary of the chapters on Aegition: A year before taking Pylos, in the summer of 426 BC, the Athenians attempted to subdue the Aetolians, under the command of the general Demosthenes and after the admonitions of the Messenians. However, they were defeated at the battle of Aegition and were forced to retreat. Demosthenes’ Messenian councilors mistakenly convinced him that it would be easy for his hoplites to confront the Aetolians. According to the Messenians, the Aetolians were light-armed and were inhabitants of villages that were located far from each other; the Athenians could therefore easily subjugate the whole of Aetolia, if they unexpectedly occupied its cities one by one. However, the Messenians did not take into account the fact that the Athenian army was inferior to the Aetolians as regards the light-armed forces. Demosthenes decided to fill this gap by approaching the Locroi Osolae, who were not only light-armed warriors but, as neighbors of the Aetolians, were familiar with the Aetolian territory. Demosthenes invades Aetolia from Oeneon, on the territory of the Locroi Osolae, and subdues some cities, but, in his effort to hasten before the Aetolian army gathers, he makes a decisive, according to Thucy-

1 A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat

69

dides, mistake:³ He does not wait for the Locroi Osolae, as he had initially decided. Thus, without light-armed forces he occupies Aegition, but the Aetolians have already gathered in order to fight him, hidden in the surrounding hills. They unexpectedly attack the Athenian army from the mountains and vanquish it (3.94– 98). This description is a first, vague foretaste of what was to follow a year later at Sphacteria, as it focuses on the light-armed men’s unorthodox way of fighting. The narrator’s intention is to explain to the reader that this kind of war neutralizes both the bravery and the techniques of the traditional hoplites,⁴ who are unable to cope against the light-armed men, given the weight of their armor in combination with the morphology of the battlefield.⁵ The author employs a plethora of narrative techniques in order to draw the reader’s attention to this subject: a) The repudiation of expectations. Thucydides opens the Aetolia episode with the advice of the Messenians: the Aetolians are light-armed men and their settlements are scattered over the region.⁶ For this reason, if Demosthenes acts before the Aetolians gather (3.94.4: πρὶν ξυμβοηθῆσαι), he can easily (οὐ χαλεπόν) beat them. However, the following account belies the Messenians. As Gomme aptly observes,⁷ the information σκευῇ ψιλῇ χρώμενον “was to prove their strength, not their weakness”, as the Messenians assumed. From the very beginning, the Aetolians are informed of Demosthenes’ plans (3.96.3) and gather in order to confront him. The ἐπεβοήθουν and ἐβοήθησαν contradict the Messenians’ hopes for the πρὶν ξυμβοηθῆσαι. They continue to believe that the Aetolians have not yet gathered (3.97.1),⁸ and thus keep saying to Demosthenes ὡς εἴη ῥᾳδία⁹ ἡ αἵρεσις.¹⁰ Once again, the Aetolians’ attack refutes the Messenians (3.97.3).

 Woodcock 1928, 95; Lazenby 1989.  For this period, one can justifiably describe a battle using light-armed troops as unorthodox and a hoplite battle as traditional, since it is commonly agreed (Lazenby 1989, 75 – 76; Debidour 2002, 43 – 63; Franz 2002, 247– 323; Spence 2002, 268; van Wees 2008, 101) that, up until the Peloponnesian war, the role of light-armed soldiers had been confined merely to covering the hoplites’ backs, without determining the final outcome of a battle. Thucydides perspicaciously focuses on this change, which is to be fully established in the Hellenistic period. On lightarmed troops see Lissarrague 1990; Hunt 2007, 119 – 124.  Lazenby 1989, 76; Spence 2002, 268; Hunt 2007, 109.  On the distribution of the population in Aetolia, see Nerantzis 2001.  HCT II, 400.  The contrast between reality (3.96.3) and the Messenians’ expectations (3.97.1) is masterfully given. This is not an inconsistency, as Gomme believed (HCT II, 405).  On the adjective ῥᾴδιος as an indicator of false hopes in 3.94.2– 3 see Rood 1998, 34.  Rood 1998, 4. Cf. the οὐ χαλεπόν of ch. 94.4. On these repetitions, see COT I, 509 ff.

70

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

b) The failure of the strategic plan.¹¹ Demosthenes initially decides to compensate for the gap in his army by using the Aetolians’ neighbors, the lightarmed Locroi Osolae (3.95.3: ὁμόσκευοι … μάχης τε ἐμπειρίᾳ τῆς ἐκείνων καὶ χωρίων). However, in the end he does not wait for them, and Thucydides comments on Demosthenes’ choice in the manner he usually adopts when criticizing someone for not following a premeditated plan: “without waiting for the Locroi who were supposed to reinforce him”.¹² The οὓς αὐτῷ ἔδει is a discreet criticism, echoing the ἔδει αὐτούς of ch. 95.3 which was not followed.¹³ Thucydides explains his criticism: ‘and it was light-armed javelin throwers he needed the most” (3.97.2). Furthermore, in the battle description, he explains that the Athenian army was defeated partly because of its ignorance of the area: “and as they plunged into dry streambeds with no exit and unfamiliar terrain, they were cut down; it happened that their pathfinder, Chromon the Messenian, had been killed” (3.98.1).¹⁴ Given Thucydides’ usual indifference to military scouts,¹⁵ this special case must not be a coincidence; this is an accusation against Demosthenes. Besides, the phrase χωρία ὧν οὐκ ἦσαν ἔμπειροι is one more ironic echo of the ἐμπειρίᾳ … χωρίων of the Locroi Osolae whom Demosthenes did not wait for.¹⁶ c) The role of the light-armed fighters is also stressed by the technique of repetition.¹⁷ The very first piece of information that the Messenians offer to Demosthenes about the Aetolians is that the latter, being light-armed, are easy to defeat in battle (3.94.4: σκευῇ ψιλῇ χρώμενον).¹⁸ Moreover, afterwards, in the main description of the battle, Thucydides twice explains the Aetolians’ behavior in reference to their arms: They retreat in the face of the enemies’ arrows, as they do not bear armor (3.98.1: ἄνθρωποι ψιλοί), but they are very quick when chasing the hoplites, being much lighter than them (98.2: ἄνθρωποι ποδώκεις καὶ ψιλοί).¹⁹

 Romilly 1956, 107– 179.  Despite Hornblower’s (COT I, 513) objections, Stahl (1966) rightly observes that Thucydides criticizes Demosthenes’ choice to trust luck instead of reason.  Cf. 2.83.1; 92.7; 3.29.1.  For cases where ignorance of the battlefield topography determined the outcome of a battle, see Pothou 2013.  Contrast the battle of Sphacteria, where he does not mention the name of the other Messenian guide. See HCT II, 407.  Wylie 1992/1993, 20 – 22.  I take the repetition as a sub-category of cross-references.  And that they were ὠμοφάγοι. The detail is perhaps not only due to Thucydides’ interest in Greek ethnography (Fragoulaki 2013, 25), but to his intention to foreshadow the Aetolian victory.  On this repetition, see HCT II, 407.

1 A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat

71

d) The emphasis on the unexpected nature of the attack of the light-armed troops. Thucydides gives a vivid description of the Aetolians’ attack through the omission of information.²⁰ In the final chapter, we will see that one of the main structural elements of Thucydidean battle descriptions is the route and the encampment of the troops. In this case, however, the historian deliberately omits any detail on the Aetolians’ route to Aegition and their location there.²¹ Although he informs us that the Aetolians had already gathered long before Demosthenes arrived at Aegition (3.96.3), he does not mention where. Afterwards, when the Athenian army has occupied the city, Thucydides clarifies for the reader that the city was located in a hilly area, but he does not mention that the Aetolians, hidden in those hills, were waiting for the enemy (3.97.2). Immediately after offering this information, Thucydides abruptly narrates the Aetolians’ attack from the hills (3.97.3: οἱ δὲ Αἰτωλοί … προσέβαλλον … καταθέοντες ἀπὸ τῶν λόφων ἄλλοι ἄλλοθεν). The reader never learns where exactly this ἄλλοθεν was and what route the Aetolians took to reach this place. This omission is due neither to a lack of interest nor to imperfect information, as Funke and Haake suggest.²² By concealing this information, Thucydides forces the reader to experience the attack exactly as the Athenians and their allies did. So far, I have presented the way in which Thucydides highlights the decisive role of light armor in the battle of Aegition. What remains is an examination of how the historian makes this description a harbinger of the final defeat of the Spartans at Sphacteria. It has been observed that the Spartan defeat “was a repetition of Demosthenes’ retreat at Aetolia”.²³ We owe such views partly to the Thucydidean narrative, where the two battles are closely connected to each other through stylistic, thematic, and structural affinities. On a stylistic level, the two battles resemble each other to a great degree with regard to the use of verbs. However, these similarities are not to be considered as being deliberate in their entirety. Many of them may be due to the fact that both battles merely took place in the same way: The light-armed troops at-

 Cf. Erbse 1989, who mentions some examples where Thucydides concealed certain information in order to reveal it in the following narrative, and thereby to lead the reader to a specific speculation. However, there is no such concealment here, since Thucydides never reveals what he omits; he merely omits it. His selectivity consists of omitting not something that is insignificant but an essential detail, in order thereby to highlight it even further.  On this route, see Gomme’s (HCT II, 405 – 406) suggestions.  Funke/Haake 2006, 376.  Woodcock 1928, 101.

72

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

tack; the hoplites face them and then chase them.²⁴ Then, the light-armed troops retreat, but as soon as the hoplites withdraw, they come back running²⁵ and launching²⁶ all their weapons (javelins, arrows, and stones). The light-armed troops have an advantage both when defending and attacking. These successive withdrawals²⁷ and attacks²⁸ recur for some time, until the hoplites are finally exhausted and become slower both in their withdrawals and their attacks, so that the light-armed troops eventually win the battle. Another common theme of the two descriptions is the nature of the battle. As said above, we have successive withdrawals and attacks, in both of which the light-armed troops are in a favorable position.²⁹ For Aegition Thucydides writes: καὶ ὅτε μὲν ἐπίοι τὸ τῶν ᾿Aθηναίων στρατόπεδον, ὑπεχώρουν (the light-armed), ἀναχωροῦσι δὲ ἐπέκειντο· καὶ ἦν ἐπὶ πολὺ τοιαύτη ἡ μάχη, διώξεις τε καὶ ὑπαγωγαί, ἐν οἷς ἀμφοτέροις ἥσσους ἦσαν οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι (3.97.3).³⁰ Similarly, Demosthenes’ plan at Sphacteria was to organize the battle in the same way, as the light-armed troops φεύγοντές τε γὰρ ἐκράτουν καὶ ἀναχωροῦσιν ἐπέκειντο (4.32.4). Although these stylistic resemblances may merely be due to the similarities between the two battles, on a narrative level the result is that the reader, having already read the battle of Aegition, can digest the details of the description of Sphacteria more easily. However, apart from stylistic similarities, there are also some narrative elements that cannot but reflect Thucydides’ intention to link the two battles. First, in both, Thucydides stresses the contrast between the gradual exhaustion of the hoplites and the convenience of the light-armed troops. At Aegition, the Athenian army retreats due to its weariness (3.98.1). Similarly, at Sphacteria the Spartans, from a certain point onwards, slow down (4.33.2–

 Aegition: διώξεις // Sphacteria: διώκειν.  Aegition: καταθέοντες; Sphacteria: ἐπιθέοντες.  Aegition: ἐσηκόντιζον, ἐσακοντίζοντες // Sphacteria: τοξεύμασι καὶ ἀκοντίοις καὶ λίθοις καὶ σφενδόναις, λίθοις τε καὶ τοξεύμασι καὶ ἀκοντίοις, ὑπὸ τῶν τοξευμάτων καὶ λίθων, τὰ τοξεύματα, δοράτιά τε.  Aegition: ὑπεχώρουν, ὑπαγωγαί // Sphacteria: ὑποστρέφοντες, ὑποχωροῦντες.  Aegition: προσέβαλλον, ἐπέκειντο, ἐνέκειντο // Sphacteria: βάλλοντες, προσκέοιντο, προσπίπτοιεν, ἔβαλλον, ἐπέκειντο.  Despite the fact that in 3.97.3 the situation is described from the hoplites’ perspective (HCT III, 474– 475), while in 4.32.4 from that of the light-armed fighters.  Cf. 2.79.6, although this short description is hardly to be considered as a prelude to the battle between the light armed and the hoplites at Sphacteria. The Delion description, being much elaborated and detailed and, as is demonstrated in this section, being deliberately connected to the events at Sphacteria, is to be taken as the main preparatory account for the battle of Sphacteria.

1 A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat

73

34.1). The duration of this toilsome effort is reflected by the Past Imperfect.³¹ In both battles, the hoplites’ struggle is contrasted with the speed and the ease of movement of the light-armed troops. Significantly, the style is similar in both cases, with the noun ἄνθρωποι always being accompanied by an adjective. In the Aegition narrative, Thucydides explains, as we saw, why the Aetolians could easily reach the Athenians (3.98.2: ἄνθρωποι ποδώκεις καὶ ψιλοί). In quite the same way, in the description of the battle of Sphacteria, the lightarmed troops could easily dodge the Spartans. They also resort to rough ground that the heavy-armored hoplites could not reach (4.33.2: ἄνθρωποι κούφως τε ἐσκευασμένοι).³² The strongest proof that Thucydides very carefully associates the two battles is found in the closures of the descriptions. In both epilogues, Thucydides defends the virtue of the defeated by implicitly underestimating the value of the light-armed fighters. On the Athenian defeat at Aegition he writes: The Athenian forces experienced flight and ruin in every form (πᾶσά τε ἰδέα κατέστη) […]. Many of the allies died, and about as many as one hundred twenty of the Athenians, in this number and just in their prime; they were surely the finest men from the city of Athens to die in this war. (3.98.3 – 4)

Thucydides stresses the tragic dimensions of the fate of the defeated Athenians with the phrase πᾶσά τε ἰδέα …, which is his usual way of underlining the disaster of the defeated.³³ Moreover, he characteristically ignores the fallen archers of the Athenian army, focusing exclusively on the dead hoplites. It is more than obvious that Thucydides wishes to analyze the battle through the antithetical prism light-armed – hoplites,³⁴ which is why he creates this antithesis in one of the most important parts of the episode, its closure.³⁵ As Hornblower observes, such comments on the expendable nature of human life are so rare throughout

 Rijskbaron 20023, 11: “Since the imperfect characterizes the state of affairs as ‘not-completed’ it creates a framework within which other states of affairs may occur…”.  On the hoplites’ armor and its weight, see Anderson 1991, 15 – 37; Connolly 19982, 51– 63; Debidour 2002, 30; Jarva 2013, 395 – 418; Kagan-Viggiano 2013, 57– 73.  As Flory (1988, 13 – 17, following Parry) very rightly points out, the phrase carries a sometimes smaller and sometimes greater emotional weight, except in two cases (2.19.1 and 2.77.2), and is the climax of a series of vivid details. See also Stahl 2013 on Thucydides’ habitual interest in the defeated.  This is also the reason why Thucydides pays so much attention to only 100 hoplites. Cf. Woodcock 1928, 95.  On how important an interpretative indicator Thucydides’ concluding comments are, see Stahl 2013.

74

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

the History that they are undoubtedly suggestive of Thucydides’ own special interest.³⁶ The historian intends to show that this way of fighting wrongs the brave hoplites and that the more virtuous a hoplite is the more tragic a role he has in a battle against light-armed troops.³⁷ The Spartans’ defeat at Sphacteria is approached from exactly the same perspective, the only difference being that in this case the narration does not end with a personal comment but in a more implicit way, with the anecdote mentioned above.³⁸ Thucydides’ sympathy for the dead hoplites, who could not take advantage of their virtues, emerges in the closures of both Aegition and Sphacteria.³⁹ The two battle descriptions are additionally linked to each other in the way they interact on a narrative level. As stated above, one of the basic functions of a prelude lies in the fact that it offers a slight hint, some kind of foretaste that helps the reader acquire a first, general and vague, idea of what follows. This is exactly how the battle of Aegition prepares us for the battle at Sphacteria: The narrative thread starts with a vague introduction to the subject (the battle of Aegition) and runs through to its detailed demonstration (the battle of Sphacteria). We have already seen how Thucydides concealed the route and the location of the Aetolian army in the hills around the city, making the reader feel startled by the Aetolians’ sudden attack from all sides. In contrast, in the description of the battle at Sphacteria, we are confronted with a detailed elaboration of the innovative military method; the narrative begins with the route and the settlement of the lightarmed troops at high points within the landscape, while the battle is introduced by Demosthenes’ plan of action (4.32) as described through the prism of this strategy and opening with the sentence τοιαύτῃ μὲν γνώμῃ ὁ Δημοσθένης … ἐπενόει (4.33.1).⁴⁰ The ὑψηλῶν χωρίων and ἀπὸ τῶν λόφων of Aegition are echoed

 COT I, 514.  For a similar approach to 3.98.4, see Wylie 1992/1993, 28 – 29.  HCT III, 480. In this phrase, Thucydides concludes his references to the Spartan military virtue (for the military content of these words, see Gomme 1953, 65 – 68 and HCT III, 480; COT II, 195 – 196, with further bibliography), which is why I cannot accept that in this passage the phrase has a political or a class/social content (e. g. Link 2005, 77– 86).  Thucydides seems here to be a supporter of the belief that the hoplite virtue is the ideal one. On this view, cf. Hanson 1989, 15 – 16 with parallel passages; Wylie 1993, 28 – 29 with passages from Homer up to Polybius; Trundle 2010, 141– 147 and for further bibliography in the same, 141 n. 4.  Although at Aegition the Aetolians must have had a plan similar to that of Demosthenes. Grainger’s (1999, 33) view that at that period the Aetolians had an – even rudimentary – central authority is supported also by 3.101– 102, where we read that the Aetolians sent three envoys, one from each tribe, which suggests the possibility of a defensive alliance or at least an organization between the tribes. Besides, the fact that they received information of the Athenian in-

1 A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat

75

in the χωρίων τὰ μετεωρότατα λαβόντες of Sphacteria. The ἄλλοι ἄλλοθεν resembles the πανταχόθεν κεκυκλωμένοις and the ἀμφίβολοι. Nevertheless, the battle in Aegition was presented merely as a result, while the battle of Sphacteria is explained a priori and thoroughly, as part of an organized plan. In the account on Aegition, Thucydides prepares the ground for a smoother transition to the new phase of the war generated by the Spartans’ failure at Pylos. ii. The battle of Erineos as a prelude to the naval battles of Syracuse. The same path, from the vague introductory character of a minor battle to the more instructive nature of a major one, also unfolds from the naval battle of Erineos to those at Syracuse.⁴¹ In 413 BC, the Great Harbour was transformed into a prison for the Athenians. During all those years of their rule of the sea, they had developed and perfected two techniques of naval warfare, which had turned them into intrepid navigators feared by all the Greeks. The first technique, the διέκπλους, involved skillful maneuvers that enabled them to break the lines of the hostile triremes, to pass between them, to destroy them close to the oars, and finally to ram into and destroy them from behind. The second technique, the περίπλους, involved encircling the hostile fleet. Nevertheless, the very same techniques would sooner or later become the Achilles’ heel of the Athenians, given that they could be employed only in the open sea. As a result, the narrowness of the Great Harbour deprived the Athenians of the opportunity to fight in their usual way. In addition, the Syracusans placed one further obstacle in the Athenians’ way by reinforcing the front timbers of their prows and thereby destroying the thinner keels of the Athenian triremes. In the three sea battles at the Great Harbour, Thucydides’ main interest lies in this new way of naval warfare, just as the key theme in the description of the battle at Sphacteria was the innovative conduct of war with the use of light-armed soldiers. Again, Thucydides prepares the reader for the new methods by giving a description of another battle, in this case the naval battle at Erineos in ch. 34 of Book VII. In the summer of 413 BC, twenty-five Peloponnesian triremes attracted the attention of the Athenian fleet in the sea of Erineos. These constant challenges were attempts to create a distraction, so that other Peloponnesian troopships could carry reinforcements to Syracuse without being noticed. The Peloponnesians manned a few more ships, apart from these twenty-five, and stationed their fleet at Erineos of Achaia, where the coastline had the shape of a crescent.⁴² The

vasion so quickly indicates that there was some kind of effective organized collaboration. It is therefore reasonable to assume that the attack was planned under the command of the military heads of the tribes.  COT III, 610. But see Dewald 2005, 225 n. 15.  Strassler 1996, 447.

76

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

Peloponnesian infantry occupied the two edges of the gulf, while the Corinthian triremes were anchored in the middle. The Peloponnesian admiral was the Corinthian Polyanthes. The thirty-three Athenian ships approached and the two fleets fought each other. The battle was inconclusive with no serious losses. The Corinthians lost three ships without the loss of human life, because the crews, Thucydides explains, could easily escape danger, as the two fleets were fighting near the coast. The Athenians lost no ships, although seven of their triremes were seriously damaged due to a prow-to-prow collision. Thucydides does not recount this battle because it was an important one. There was no chase after the battle, there were no captives and no Athenian triremes sank. The presence of four negations (οὐδεμία, οὐδ’, οὐδετέρων, οὐδεμία) within only three lines of the OCT text betrays the historians’ effort to explain that this battle caused almost no damage to the two fleets.⁴³ Why then does he dedicate 38 lines of the OCT text (more than one page) to describing it instead of giving it a brief mention? The answer lies in a basic detail regarding the nature of the battle: The Corinthians incapacitated seven Athenian triremes by following a method that had not been mentioned before in the History. They made a headon attack, prow-to-prow. As the timbers of the prows of their ships were much bigger and stronger than those of the Athenian triremes, the Corinthian triremes thrashed the ships of the enemy precisely at the point beneath the seats of the archers (7.34.5). The same method is to be used in the very next chapters by the “Corinthians of Sicily”, the Syracusans, in their three naval victories over the Athenians. Just as in the narration of the battle at Aegition Thucydides introduced a new way of fighting that destroyed the traditionally-trained hoplites, here he introduces a method of naval attack different from that used by the Athenians.⁴⁴ It should be recalled that in the pair Aegition-Sphacteria a path was followed from the vague introduction of a new military method (minor battle) to its complete and more detailed demonstration (major battle). This is the case here as well. It is also worth bearing in mind that in the description of Aegition the narrator presented only the result of the attack of the light-armed men. In contrast, he began his account of the battle of Sphacteria by providing a full explanation of the strategic plan. In exactly the same way, in the account of Erineos, Thucydides notes merely the result of the new method. Once more, in the minor battle

 Strassler (1996, 447) describes it as “inconclusive”. Cf. Hornblower (COT III, 610), who believes that the repetitions are deliberate, in order for Thucydides to intensify the inconclusiveness of the battle.  During the following years of the war, this method will become established as a basic weapon used against the Athenians (Hirschfeld in Strassler 1996, 613).

1 A minor battle as the prelude to the great defeat

77

the narrator forces the reader to feel surprise about the strong timbers of the Corinthian ships, as if the reader is among the Athenian crew and realizes what is happening only as it happens. In contrast, in two of the three major naval battles of Syracuse, the subject is analyzed as a plan before the battle, just as Demosthenes’ plan at Sphacteria was. Thucydides introduces the first naval battle (7.36 – 41) in ch. 36. He dedicates the whole chapter (39 lines, one and a half pages of the OCT) to the presentation of the Syracusans’ plan, which he purposely connects to the naval battle of Erineos in the sentence ᾧπερ τρόπῳ καὶ οἱ Κορίνθιοι πρὸς τὰς ἐν τῇ Ναυπάκτῳ ναῦς ἐπισκευασάμενοι πρῴραθεν ἐναυμάχουν.⁴⁵ Stroud rightly observes that the Erineos narration focused on the Corinthians. They were the object of seven verbs, while the Athenians remained in the background in an Accusative or Genitive Absolute and as the object only of three verbs.⁴⁶ Thucydides described the battle from the Corinthians’ perspective, in order to connect it to those at Syracuse. Corinth, being the metropolis of Syracuse, is one of the main elements that connect Erineos and the Great Harbour,⁴⁷ just as Demosthenes was for Aegition and Sphacteria.⁴⁸ Moreover, the very clarifications on the Syracusans’ plan before the first naval battle at the Great Harbour remind us of the naval battle at Erineos. The whole chapter is an explanation of the tactic of the face-to-face attack. Athenian ships had thinner prows, because they preferred to surround the enemy ships or to pass between them and neutralize them. Therefore, a head-on attack would put the Athenians in a very uncomfortable position, as the thin keels of their triremes would not be able to hold out against the stronger ones of the enemy and would be crushed – as eventually happened. We have already seen that the battle of Sphacteria is presented as emerging from Demosthenes’ stratagem, given that the narrative began in the sentence τοιαύτῃ μὲν γνώμῃ ὁ Δημοσθένης … ἐπενόει. Similarly, the first naval battle of Syracuse is introduced by the sentence τοιαῦτα οἱ Συρακόσιοι … ἐπινοήσαντες. The similarity between the two introductory sentences is more than obvious (τοιαύτῃ γνώμῃ//τοιαῦτα and ἐπενόει//ἐπινοήσαντες). With both Sphacteria and Syracuse, Thucydides has already paved the way for the new military method in a preceding description of a minor satellite battle (Aegition for Sphacteria and Erineos for Syracuse), while he explains the details of this method in the major battle by introducing it with a strategic plan.    

Cf. COT III, 609. Stroud 1994, 295 – 297. On the relation between Corinth and Syracuse, see most recently Fragoulaki 2013, 88 – 99. On this role of Demosthenes, see Stahl 2006, 323.

78

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

The reader recalls the naval battle of Erineos also during the third naval battle of Syracuse. Once again, the subject is mentioned in the introduction to the battle, in Nicias’ speech and in the meetings between the Syracusan generals and Gylippus. Nicias exhorts his soldiers not to be afraid of the more solid davits of the enemy ships, by claiming that they have found the way to tackle them (7.62.3).⁴⁹ The Syracusan generals, for their part, take their own precautions, as soon as they are informed of the Athenians’ contrivance. As Hunt observes, “it would be a malapropism to speak of the ‘theme’ of stronger prows; Thucydides’ focus and persistent attention is nonetheless evident (7.65.1– 2).”⁵⁰

2 The great defeat In both narrative examples, after the prelude comes the great defeat (Sphacteria for the Spartans and Syracuse for the Athenians). Thucydides now highlights all the factors that can excuse the defeated. In this way, he implicitly criticizes the claim of the victors that they are now superior to their enemies, thereby foreshadowing that it is only a matter of time before the defeated regain their lost allure. The historian narrates the battles at Pylos/Sphacteria in a way that foreshadows the Spartans’ comeback at Mantinea, while the descriptions of the naval battles at the Great Harbour portend the Athenians’ victory in Book VIII. His message is that in both cases those who are defeated lose due to specific inhibiting factors that prevent them from taking advantage of their skills. In this case, these factors are the morphology of the battlefield, the multiple war fronts, limited perception, and exhaustion and hunger: a. Morphology of the battlefield. In the case of both the Spartan defeat at Pylos/Sphacteria and the Athenian disaster at Syracuse, Thucydides highlights the topography of the battlefield, so as to provide an excuse for the defeated. Demosthenes’ light-armed men were able to beat the Spartans thanks to the hilly landscape and wild environment on the island. They surrounded the Spartans from afar and at a higher level, from where they threw items of all kinds at them, whereas their opponents could not approach them in their rough dens due to the harsh landscape. Similarly, the Athenians could not avoid a frontal collision with the more solid davits of the enemy due to the narrowness of the Great Harbour.

 This is one more case in which Nicias’ expectations are mentioned in order only to be belied. On the tragic aspect of Nicias’ expectations in Thucydides, see Murray 1961, 33 – 46.  Hunt 2006, 408.

2 The great defeat

79

The narrator constantly reminds the reader of how inappropriate the site is for traditional forms of fighting. Specifically regarding the events at Pylos and Sphacteria, although we should not disregard Rubincam’s criticisms of Thucydides’ reliability,⁵¹ it should also be borne in mind that Thucydides’ aim is not necessarily to give a thorough and accurate description but to highlight the topographical features of the battlefield that disadvantaged the defeated Spartans.⁵² Thucydides opens the episode with Demosthenes’ argument that to occupy such a rugged site would be very difficult for the Spartans, if the Athenians had previously fortified it (4.3.2). Thucydides will agree with Demosthenes a few paragraphs later (4.4.3). Additionally, when he first mentions Sphacteria, the author makes clear that it is just as rugged and covered with dense vegetation (4.8.6). Later, shortly before the Spartans land at Pylos, he specifically states that the Spartans were to land at positions that were inappropriate for battle (4.9.2).⁵³ Immediately before the first day of battle at Pylos, Demosthenes repeats what he had told the Athenian generals and convinces his men that the rugged landscape would act as their ally against the Spartans (4.10.3), preventing them from taking advantage of their numerical superiority (4.10.4). Thucydides confirms Demosthenes’ prediction in his description of the battle: the Spartans land in stages, each time with a few ships, while in their efforts to disembark they are required to confront the irregular topography of the ground (4.11.3 – 12.2). The historian prepares the reader for the battle of Sphacteria in exactly the same way as he had for the battle of Pylos. Once again, shortly before the showdown (4.29.3), he reminds us of the information about the island given in 4.8.6, by explaining that during the battle the Spartan hoplites could not keep up with their enemies due to the irregularity of the ground (4.33.2). The obstacle of the irregular battlefield also makes the narration of the three naval battles at Syracuse coherent. On each occasion, the narrator prepares the reader for the clash by introducing the plans of the commanders on each side. The main point of these introductions is the narrowness of the Great Harbour. In the first naval battle, we read of the Syracusans’ plan to exploit the narrow port, so that the Athenians cannot use their standard techniques (7.36). Before the second battle (7.52– 53.1), Demosthenes foresees the second defeat of the Athenians and proposes that the camp be moved to another location, from where they could face the enemy in the open sea and be able to apply their knowledge (7.49.2). However, the Syracusans do not intend to give the Athenians  Rubincam 2001, with Samons’ (2006) response. Cf. Pothou 2013.  Cf. Luginbill 2002, 41.  4.9.2. On the morphology of these spots, see Pritchett 1965b; Wilson 1979; Bauslaugh 1979, 1– 6; Strassler 1988, 198 – 203; Dyson 2002.

80

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

the opportunity to escape (7.51.1). Before the third naval battle, Nicias admits that in the previous clashes with the Syracusans the narrowness of the port had forced them to fight in an unorthodox way (7.62.2). Finally, Thucydides himself, when describing this last battle (7.59.2– 72.2), notes that having the ships crowded in such a small place was unprecedented during the Peloponnesian War (7.70.4). b. Multiple fronts. Another obstacle for both the Spartans at Sphacteria and the Athenians at Syracuse was the fact they had to face multiple simultaneous attacks from different directions. At Sphacteria, Demosthenes positions his hoplites in front of the Spartans, whom he has already surrounded from above with his light-armed troops, so that the Spartans cannot attack the Athenian hoplites (4.32.3 – 4). The plan succeeds, as the light-armed men surround the Spartans and attack them from all sides (4.33.1– 2: ἐκ πλαγίου / κατὰ νώτου / ἑκατέρωθεν). The Spartans retreat (4.34.3: κινδύνου τε πανταχόθεν περιεστῶτος). Finally, when the Messenians also manage to surround them even in their last refugee, the Spartans are again attacked from all sides, and this time they are much fewer in number than the enemy (4.36.3). Similarly, in the last naval battle of Syracuse, the Athenians are attacked from every side (7.70.1– 2: πανταχόθεν). c. Limited perception. Apart from the obstacles outlined above, the defeated were also unable to see or hear what was happening. At Sphacteria, the cries of the light-armed men, the ash from the recently burned forest, the arrows, the stones and the spears deprived the Spartans of the ability to hear and to follow their superiors’ commands (4.34.2– 3). Similarly, in the last battle at Syracuse, Thucydides describes how the ships were so crowded that, again, the belligerents were unable to see and hear exactly what was going on around them (7.70.6). d. Exhaustion and hunger. Thucydides also mentions exhaustion and hunger as another counterweight to the virtue of the defeated. At Sphacteria, during their last retreat, the Spartans are exhausted by their exertions and hunger (4.36.3). Similarly, during the first naval battle of Syracuse, the Athenians, surprised by the sudden attack of their enemies, are eager to fight, in the hope that a showdown will stop them from feeling so tired (7.40.3 – 4). Before the last naval battle, Thucydides recalls that the Athenians resented the fact that they lacked the necessary provisions (7.60.2– 5). e. Inexperience in the new way of war. The irregular morphology of the battlefield, the multiple fronts, an imperfect sense of what is happening around them, and hunger were difficult conditions that the defeated were unfamiliar with. In both devastating defeats, Thucydides comments that the defeated were not used to fighting in such circumstances. He expresses this view explicitly for the Spartans (4.34.2), but prefers to let Gylippus do so for the Athenians (7.67.2).

2 The great defeat

81

f. Luck. Certain additional affinities strengthen the view that Thucydides composed both defeats on the basis of a typical narrative scheme, aiming to foreshadow the recovery of the defeated (of the Spartans at Mantinea and of the Athenians at Cynos Sema); in both defeats, Thucydides sought to criticize the naivety of the victors who believed that their triumph was due to their military superiority. In Athens, the Spartan ambassadors, after their defeat at Pylos and the blockade of their hoplites at Sphacteria, propose to the Athenian demos that they make peace. The main theme of their speech is the good fortune that the Athenians were currently enjoying (4.17.4: εὐτυχίαν … ἀδοκήτως εὐτυχῆσαι; 4.18.4: ὡς ἂν αἱ τύχαι αὐτῶν ἡγήσωνται … ἐν τῷ εὐτυχεῖν; 4.18.5: τύχῃ).⁵⁴ According to the Spartans, however, the Athenians should not get too carried away by the illusion that their luck will last forever. The Athenians have been given the chance to falsely convince the Greeks that they are more powerful than the Spartans. However, the Spartans reassure the Athenians that if they continue the war, sooner or later everyone will see that their victory at Pylos was the result of pure luck (4.18.5).⁵⁵ One wonders how the Spartans hoped they could convince the Athenians to make peace by making all these provocative statements! Of course, it is Thucydides who hides behind all these words.⁵⁶ His purpose is to predispose the reader to the possibility that the Spartans’ warnings will come true: luck will no longer favor the Athenians and sooner or later – in the battle of Mantinea – it will be proved that their victory at Pylos was not due to their military superiority. Besides, from the very beginning of their speech, the Spartans, again provocatively, make it clear to the Athenians that they were not defeated at Pylos due to a lack of power (4.18.2). On the contrary, the Athenians’ current superiority is due simply to good fortune. ὥστε οὐκ εἰκὸς ὑμᾶς διὰ τὴν παροῦσαν νῦν ῥώμην … καὶ τὸ τῆς τύχης (4.18.3). It is particularly important to keep in mind that, according to the Spartan speakers, the current strength of the Athenians (ῥώμη) is temporary (παροῦσαν νῦν) and can be attributed to good fortune (καὶ τὸ τῆς τύχης). For if we examine the twin episode of Syracuse and read the speech of those other great losers, we will find ourselves confronted with exactly the same attitude. Nicias, in his

 Cf. Howie 2005, 2019 – 225.  On the way luck makes Book IV cohere, see Babut 1981, 426 ff. and Babut 1986, 66 ff.  Even if we accept Howie’s (2005, 221) view that the admonitions on luck by the Spartan envoys were a common topos in speeches of the defeated, in order to persuade the winners to end the war, I still do not believe that they were so extensive in the real speech, but were instead confined to the epilogue or, in any case, to the end of the speech. Raising this subject on this occasion would not have been a wise move by the Spartans.

82

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

speech before the final defeat of the Athenians, argues (in a passage which Lateiner calls a rhetorical “futile cliché”)⁵⁷ that, this time, luck may very well favor them, implying that in the previous battles the Syracusans had luck on their side (7.61.3: καὶ τὸ τῆς τύχης κἂν μεθ’ ἡμῶν ἐλπίσαντες στῆναι). Furthermore, he contrasts the real superiority of the Athenians with the false, current and lucky superiority of the enemies (7.63.4). The phrase εὐτυχούσης ῥώμης uttered by the desperate and disgraced Athenian at Syracuse echoes the words of the humbled Spartans of Pylos τὴν παροῦσαν νῦν ῥώμην … καὶ τὸ τῆς τύχης. The similarity in both content and expression, combined with all the similarities noted above, reveals how closely Thucydides connected the two defeats. As in the case of the revolts (Chapter 1), he here uses a common narrative scheme. The words of both the Spartan envoys and of Nicias reflect Thucydides’ own view,⁵⁸ which is proved in the Pylos narration as well as in that of Syracuse. Thucydides’ comments on the events at Pylos are to be found in those made by his mouthpieces, the Spartan ambassadors. In the first battle at Pylos, he stresses the tragically difficult state of the Spartans. As though they were the conquerors of their own country, they were attempting to conquer the Athenian fortress. The main reason as to why things turned out like this, according to the historian, was luck (4.12.3: ἐς τοῦτό τε περιέστη ἡ τύχη …). For the second battle of Pylos, the historian insists, and perhaps also exaggerates,⁵⁹ on the Athenians’ good fortune (4.14.3: τῇ παρούσῃ τύχῃ …). In the Sicilian episode, there is no such personal statement by the historian attributing the Syracusians’ victory to their good luck. Moreover, Thucydides highlights the Syracusans’ ability to adapt to new situations and the homoiotropia between the Syracusians and the Athenians (7.55.2; cf. 8.96.5). However, there are some other aspects that account for Thucydides’ focus on the military virtue of the defeated. In the last naval battle, he offers a vivid description of the panic, as exemplified by the shouts of the crews. Although he writes that the situation was very difficult for both the Syracusans and the Athenians, his focus is more on how this factor affected the Athenians (7.71.4). Moreover, when referring to the

 Lateiner 1985, 202.  Although Thucydides often blames – either explicitly or implicitly – Nicias’ choices (cf. Westlake 1941, 58 – 65), here, as in some other passages, Thucydides’ opinion certainly coincides with the views of Nicias. Cf. Adkins (1975, 379 – 392), although his suggestion that Thucydides’ sympathy for Nicias emerged from the former’s failure at Amphipolis is not supported by any passage in the History.  Many scholars justifiably doubt whether luck was such a determining factor in the Athenians’ success at Pylos and Sphacteria. See Wilson 1979, 103; Babut 1981, 421; Howie 2005, mainly 226 – 229.

2 The great defeat

83

crowding of the ships in the narrow port, he suggests again that this posed an obstacle only for the Athenians, but does not praise the ability of Athens’ enemies to fight and win under exactly the same conditions. Not only does he not praise them, but he also disparages this method by describing it as crude, both in the words of others and in his own personal comments. Before the first naval battle, he describes the Syracusans’ method as demonstrating a lack of knowledge (7.36.5). Nicias refers to the great number of men in the ships with the pejorative noun ὄχλος⁶⁰ and contrasts the methods used by their enemies with his compatriots’ knowledge (7.62.2: ἐπιστήμης). The art of the enemy is debased as ἀμαθία, while the useless art of the Athenians is seen favorably as ἐπιστήμη. The anecdote at the end of the Pylos episode has an equally pejorative function. The Spartan hoplite’s irony toward the coincidental nature of the war against the light-armed men at Sphacteria is echoed by an underestimation of the new method at Syracuse. g. The eagerness of the defeated. Thucydides does not underestimate the military virtue of the defeated; on the contrary, he highlights it. A central idea in the description of the Spartans’ effort at Pylos is their eagerness. In the first battle at Pylos, they attacked the Athenian fort προθυμίᾳ τε πάσῃ χρώμενοι καὶ παρακελευσμῷ (4.11.3). Moreover, the scene of Brasidas’ aristeia represents the virtue of all the Spartans; after this scene, Thucydides writes that οἱ δ’ ἄλλοι προυθυμοῦντο μέν, ἀδύνατοι δ’ ἦσαν ἀποβῆναι (4.12.2).⁶¹ In the second battle, Thucydides uses a phrase that is typically revealing of enthusiasm and a feverish effort: καὶ ἐν τούτῳ κεκωλῦσθαι ἐδόκει ἕκαστος ᾧ μή τινι καὶ αὐτὸς ἔργῳ παρῆν (4.14.2),⁶² and then moves on to write οἵ … Λακεδαιμόνιοι ὑπὸ προθυμίας … (14.3). Last, in the Sphacteria narration, the historian repeatedly mentions the Spartan hoplites’ desire to clash with the Athenian hoplites and their inability to do so (4.33.1– 34.3). In the same way, in the last naval battle of Syracuse, Thucydides mentions the Athenians’ eagerness (although this time he also mentions that of the Syracusans): πολλὴ μὲν γὰρ ἑκατέροις προθυμία … (7.70.3).⁶³ The way in which Thucydides recounts these events reveals, as always, how he himself interpreted them: It was too soon for the victors to become enthused

 On the negative nature of the term both on a political as well as on a military level, see Chapter 4, p. 148 n. 23.  The anonymity of the other Spartans definitely brings Brasidas to the foreground (Howie 2005), yet without understating their bravery.  Cf. 2.8.4.  On the vocabulary used by Thucydides in order to stress the irresolute and competitive character of the battle, see Jordan 2000, 76 – 77.

84

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

and hope that they had the upper hand in the military showdowns.⁶⁴ The Spartans were defeated not because they were less formidable fighters but because luck created circumstances in which they could not make the most of their skills. Accordingly, the Athenians did not, of course, forget how to govern a ship; they simply did not have the opportunity to do so in the narrow port of Syracuse. However, the battle of Mantinea and the naval battle of Cynos Sema were to do justice to the defeated.

3 Depicting the low morale of the defeated After the failure, Thucydides depicts the low morale of the defeated. In the unit Sphacteria – Mantinea, the Athenians, full of confidence after their success at Sphacteria, plunder the Peloponnese, with their efforts culminating in the occupation of Cythera. This was one further blow for the already disheartened Spartans, given that the island was, due to its strategic position, their base for controlling the south-western Aegean. At this point, Thucydides chooses to present the new psychological state of the Spartans: Although they expect that their enemies will also plunder their land, they do not dare face them in an open battle with their full army; instead, they send hoplite garrisons where necessary. Having seen the theater of the war transferred to their territory and with the Athenians having occupied two neighboring sites (Pylos, Cythera), the Spartans despair, because they are involved in a naval war of a type they have little experience in. Moreover, convinced that luck has abandoned them, they dare not take any initiatives and are disheartened, fearing that more failures will follow (5.55).⁶⁵ Similarly, in the unit Syracuse – Cynos Sema, right after the end of the narration of the disaster, Thucydides composes the first chapter of Book VIII, in which he represents the panic at Athens after the arrival of the unpleasant news.⁶⁶ The Athenians are afraid that they will lose the war, convinced that they possess neither enough hoplites and cavalry nor ships and crews that can equal those lost in Sicily. Besides, they are certain that the Spartans will henceforth also have the support of the Syracusans and the Athenian allies, who are unlikely to miss the opportunity to revolt. The new psychological

 On Book VIII as Thucydides’ attempt to correct the Peloponnesians’ hopes, see Rood 1998, 257.  Hornblower (COT II, 109) connects the chapter with ch. 4.80 – 81, 108, 117 and 5.14– 16 as six excursuses of morale.  On the connections of 8.1 with Book VII, see Wilamowitz (1908, 578).

3 Depicting the low morale of the defeated

85

state of the Athenians is also sketched in Phrynichus’ speech in ch. 8.27. Immediately after the battle of Miletus, the Athenian generals confer with each other in order to decide whether to confront the Peloponnesian fleet. While the other officials suggest that they should go ahead with the naval battle, Phrynichus disagrees. Through Phrynichus’ arguments, Thucydides suggests how he believes the Athenians should view the war after the events at Sicily. According to Phrynichus, the city has incurred such serious damage that it does not have the luxury of conducting an aggressive war. Athens should preserve its strengths and respond to the enemies’ movements only as a defensive strategy and in cases of emergency. Phrynichus eventually convinces his colleagues not to undertake the naval battle. We can easily identify the similarities between the morale of the Spartans after the events at Pylos and that of the Athenians after Sicily, some of which have already been mentioned: a) There is fear and surprise in both cases. For the Spartans, we read φοβούμενοι (§ 1) and ἐδέδισαν (§ 3), and for the Athenians φόβος (§ 2). Regarding surprise, even the style is common to both. The Spartans felt ἔκπληξιν μεγίστην (§ 3), while the Athenians experienced κατάπληξις μεγίστη (§ 2). b) Another common feature is the multiplicity of problems to be faced from this point on. The Spartans feel resentful and discouraged, because they find it difficult to fight on all war fronts at the same time (4.55.1: πανταχόθεν σφᾶς περιεστῶτος πολέμου), while the Athenians are likewise frustrated with a myriad of problems (8.1.2: πάντα δὲ πανταχόθεν αὐτοὺς ἐλύπει).⁶⁷ We can even add some further similarities: a) The situation after the defeat is described through the eyes of the defeated. Ch. 4.55 begins with the phrase οἱ δὲ Λακεδαιμόνιοι ἰδόντες, while in ch. 8.1 the Athenians seem hopeless, as they can see neither young warriors (§ 2: ἑώρων) nor ships (ibid: οὐχ ὁρῶντες). b) The common element of both psychological depictions is the expectation of negative developments, as expressed by infinitives of the Future tense (4.55.1 // 8.1.2). c) All the above factors render the defeated hesitant and timid. The Spartans became cautious and indecisive, far more so than they were already, and thus abstained from a clash with the enemy as a result of their low confidence, i. e. because they a priori believed that any battle would lead to failure (4.55.2– 4). Similarly, Phrynichus’ arguments reflect the low morale of the Athenians and the critical nature of the new status quo, which calls for greater reservation (8.27.3). d) Thucydides presents the new psychological condition of the defeated always in comparison with the past. He remarks of the Spartans that their hesitation has surpassed their idleness thus far (εἴπερ ποτε), while Phrynichus ex-

 Rood 1998, 254.

86

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

plains that the Athenians should not be ashamed of retreating in front of a hostile fleet, despite their fame. The comparison with the past marks the transition to a new narrative stage. In both cases, times have changed. The Spartans’ superiority on land and the Athenians’ superiority at sea are put to the test even by themselves.⁶⁸

4 The presentation of the events that prove the low morale One of the major characteristics of Thucydides’ method is his selectivity as to which events he includes. He sometimes omits even important events if they do not serve his goal, while he records incidents of minor importance if he believes that they will help him explain a particular situation to the reader. One of the most typical reasons as to why Thucydides includes events is their probative value for his views.⁶⁹ In this case, the view already expressed is that the confidence of the defeated ones has been seriously undermined. Both in the unit Sphacteria – Mantinea as well as in that of Syracuse – Cynos Sema, after the depiction of the defeated party’s morale, Thucydides presents the reader with those events that prove this condition. In essence, the logic of the narration is the syllogism “after the defeat, the defeated felt x feelings, given that a, b, c events took place”. Thucydides tries to reach a logical connection between the description of the morale and the events that prove it, through thematic and stylistic echoes. In the following pages, I will present how this technique is used in both cases. i. Sphacteria – Mantinea: Three events suggestive of the low morale. Thucydides’ description of the Spartan morale can be summarized in the following sentences: (1) “The Lacedaemonians […] did not oppose them [i. e. the Athenians] anywhere with a concentration of strength”; (2) “in military activity, although hesitant before (εἴπερ ποτέ), they became very much more so”; (3) “and this made them less bold in giving battle”; (4) “and they thought (ᾤοντο) any action they took would go wrong, owing to their loss of self-confidence” (4.55). The content of these sentences is proven by three points made in ch. 4.56 – 57.⁷⁰ The first confirmation is offered right after ch. 4.55, at the beginning of ch. 56. The historian informs us that, while the Athenians were plundering the littoral areas of Laconia, the Spartans, in most cases, did not react as they believed that their garrisons were inferior in strength to the enemy (4.56.1). The  no  

Cf. Rood (1998, 253): “the polarity of Athenian mastery at sea and Spartan mastery on land longer held true after the destruction of the Athenian fleet in Sicily.” Badian 1990, 46 – 91. Schwinge 2008, 86 – 88.

4 The presentation of the events that prove the low morale

87

verb ἡσύχασαν confirms views (1), (2) and (3), while the ἡγούμενοι echoes the ᾤοντο of (4). Second, even the Spartan garrison that had the courage to clash with the enemy eventually retreated. In Cotyrta and Aphroditia, the Spartan guardians attacked the dispersed light-armed enemies and forced them to flee. However, when they had to face the hoplites, they retreated. A few men were killed and the enemies plundered the armor of the dead, set up a trophy and sailed to Cythera (4.56.1). Thucydides does not mention the success of the Spartan hoplites over the light-armed enemies because he wishes to praise it. On the contrary, his aim is to create an antithesis between this behavior and their diffidence in facing the hoplites. Through this contrast, Thucydides confirms what he argued in views (1), (2), (3) and, especially, (4). Those who lost their old fame at Sphacteria were the Spartan hoplites and, for this reason, Thucydides insists on noting that the garrisons consisted of hoplites (4.55.1 and here). They would regain their lost prestige only if they face other hoplites, something they repeatedly avoid doing. After this, the Athenians of Cythera plunder the Limera Epidaurus, and from there go to Thyrea. This city, Thucydides writes, lies in Cynuria (4.56.2). This information is not coincidental. If Thucydides is addressing his contemporary readers, then he seems to be preparing them for the possible Spartan reaction, since it was well known that this city was the apple of discord between the Spartans and the Argives, their challengers for hegemony over the Peloponnese. Consequently, an invasion of Thyrea was also a threat to Spartan hegemony in the Peloponnese.⁷¹ On the other hand, if Thucydides was addressing future readers, he may again have wished to clarify that this area was of major importance for the Spartans (4.56.2: “on the border between Argive and Laconian land”). The reader, ancient or modern,⁷² is prepared by the narrator for Spartan reaction. Yet, once more, the Spartans do not react. The guardians that ought to defend the city do not accept the Thyreans’ proposal to enter the walls of the city, because they are afraid that they will be blockaded. The infinitive κατακλῄεσθαι echoes what the Spartan hoplites had suffered at Sphacteria (ἀπελαμβάνοντο in 4.14.2). This is another echo of the view given in ch. 55 that the Spartans were afraid that another calamity, similar to that at Sphacteria, would befall them. Moreover, the Spartan guards avoid entering inside the walls of the besieged city, in the belief that they are inferior to the Athenian army (4.57.2: ὡς οὐκ ἐνόμιζον ἀξιόμαχοι εἶναι), echoing point (4) and particularly the verb ᾤοντο.

 On the significance of the area, see HCT ΙΙΙ, 512; COT ΙΙ, 219.  On Thucydides’ relationship with his readers, see mainly Connor 1984; Morrison 2006a; Liotsakis 2015.

88

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

ii. Syracuse – Cynos Sema: Six events suggestive of the low morale as the first narrative thread of 8.25 – 107. Echoes of Phrynichus’ admonitions. In the same way, in unit 8.25 – 107, Thucydides proves the truth of what the reader has read about the feelings of the Athenians in ch. 8.1 and in Phrynichus’ words in ch. 8.27. In the unit Sphacteria – Mantinea the events which proved the morale of the defeated stop at ch. 4.57. In the rest of the book, Thucydides narrates the Athenian operations at Delion, the Sicilian ecclēsia with Hermocrates’ speech, and Brasidas’ successes at Thrace. In contrast, in Book VIII the events which prove the new psychological state of the Athenians are not interrupted and therefore make the whole narration cohere until its closure. These events create a united and continuous narrative thread, which ends with the description of the naval battle of Cynos Sema. Moreover, this thread unfolds alongside a second narrative thread of retardation, which also ends at the same point. This will be elaborated further in the next chapter. Here, we will examine the first narrative thread of ch. 25 – 107, the echoes of Phrynichus’ advice. This is the transition point from the Chios episode to the second unit of Book VIII. The Athenians have started to besiege Chios and, as we saw in the previous chapter, Thucydides closes this episode with an epilogue/comment in ch. 8.24. In ch. 25 the new narrative phase begins. The pace slows with the description of the battle of Miletus, which the Athenians won. Immediately after this, the Athenians prepare to besiege the city by building a wall, but in the afternoon of the same day they are informed of the arrival of fifty-five hostile ships. The Athenian generals confer as to whether they should confront the hostile fleet or not. The opinion of Phrynichus eventually prevailed, that they should not fight a naval battle against the Peloponnesians, although the other two generals did not agree with him. Phrynichus’ arguments are as follows: a) The Athenians should wait for the right moment, when their fleet is sufficiently prepared; b) they do not know the exact number of hostile ships; c) avoiding a battle is less of a disgrace than a defeat;⁷³ d) besides, a potential defeat will probably bring the city’s doom, as

 Hornblower (COT III, 826 – 827) argues that Phrynichus may be referring here to the Argives, although other scholars associate the passage with the words of the Melians (Patwell, Andrewes). Indeed, Phrynichus’ negation (οὐ γὰρ αἰσχρὸν εἶναι … ὑποχωρῆσαι … ἀλλά) means that he is answering a counter-argument (see Moorhouse 1959, 1– 6; for similar examples in Thucydides, see Arnold 1992). Having not read this argument, however, our thoughts turn to the last person who argued for such a policy, namely Alcibiades, who had used this view as an argument for not abandoning the Sicilian expedition (6.48: ᾿Aλκιβιάδης δὲ οὐκ ἔφη χρῆναι τοσαύτῃ δυνάμει ἐκπλεύσαντας αἰσχρῶς καὶ ἀπράκτους ἀπελθεῖν). In Book VIII, Phrynichus is Alcibiades’ opponent and he thus refers ironically to the argument about αἰσχρόν, marking a new phase in the

4 The presentation of the events that prove the low morale

89

it has been worryingly weakened by the Sicilian disaster. With these arguments, Phrynichus convinces his colleagues to go to Samos from where, in his opinion, they should conduct the war by taking advantage of every opportunity. Thucydides presents Phrynichus’ thoughts in indirect speech.⁷⁴ Thucydides deliberately mentions this meeting. Aside from the fact that, along with the preceding battle, it blocks the fast pace and thereby marks the point of transition to the new narrative phase, this council has one further role: By introducing the issue of a decisive naval battle for the first time in the narration after the disaster at Sicily, this meeting acts as the opening to the central subject of the plot, until its final resolution in ch. 106. It is the beginning of the route to Cynos Sema. Six events of unit ch. 25 – 107 will echo Phrynichus’ arguments and gradually intensify the suspense of the final naval battle for the reader. These events form the first narrative thread around which the unit is organized. The organization of Book VIII around the association between words and deeds, i. e. between Phrynichus’ words and the Athenians’ deeds, should be examined in close relation to the absence of speeches in Book VIII. Given that there are no speeches in the book, we might reasonably wonder whether there is any relationship between what is said and what is actually done on a narrative level, or not.⁷⁵ Does the absence of speeches mean that Thucydides has abandoned the technique of the confirmation and recantation of statements through facts? In what follows, it will be argued that this technique not only does not disappear but, along with the technique of retardation, it is one of the two primary methods through which Thucydides organizes Book VIII from ch. 25 onwards. Apart from answering the question concerning the pair words and deeds in Book VIII, this view may also clarify Thucydides’ opinion of Phrynichus. The Athenian general has been a notably controversial individual, both for his fellow

war, in which the Periclean advice to avoid needless dangers and focus on the effort to conserve what is already possessed becomes not merely an alternative solution but a pressing need.  On this speech and its association with the History, see Patwell 1978, 124– 135. Mewes (1868, 16) believed a speech would fit very well here. Patwell (1978, 135), in contrast, concludes that the passage is in its final form. The two theories are not mutually exclusive. The style is not necessarily that of a rough draft merely because Thucydides intended to change it, nor does the stylistic refinement prove that he would not have replaced it. This is yet one more example where the dialogue about speeches in Book VIII cannot but be confined to a hypothetical level.  On the narrative function of the speeches in Thucydides, see Parry 1958; Kitto 1966; Stahl 1966; Stahl 1973; Hunter 1973; Immerwahr 1973; Cogan 1981b; Parry 1981; Kirby 1983; Macleod 1983a, 69; Müller 1986; Rengakos 1996; Nicolai 1998; Debnar 20044, 21– 22; Morrison 2006b; Scardino 2007; Pelling 2009; Stahl 2009; Pavlou 2013; Price 2013; Tompkins 2013; Tsakmakis/ Themistokleous 2013.

90

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

citizens as well as for modern scholars. As for his fame, many of his contemporaries accused him of self-interest and opportunism. Even Critias, Phrynichus’ collaborator in the oligarchic coup of the Four Hundred, asked for Phrynichus’ trial and conviction, and at a time when Phrynichus was already dead!⁷⁶ We also read that he was planning to deliver the Athenian fleet to the Spartans in order to protect himself from the upcoming return of his political opponent Alcibiades to Athens. Many scholars have argued that in this episode, Thucydides wants to criticize Phrynichus’ ruthless opportunism.⁷⁷ This view is hard to deny. However, even if Thucydides did not approve of Phrynichus’ actions, he nevertheless appreciated the man’s perspicacity and shrewdness.⁷⁸ He closes Phrynichus’ speech in ch. 27 with a laudatory comment on the man’s insight: “and he seemed, no more at this moment than afterward, not only in this matter but wherever he was involved, a man not without intelligence.” This proleptic statement is similar to those on the intelligence of Pericles, Brasidas and Alcibiades. As we saw in the previous chapter, such ‘meta-narrative instructions’ are always confirmed by the narrative itself, foreshadowing in this way not only what will happen but also how it will be narrated. Similarly, the comment on Phrynichus’ shrewdness foreshadows his insight throughout Book VIII. For example, we have ch. 48. Phrynichus warns the Athenians not to hurry in replacing democracy with oligarchy. Alcibiades, according to Phrynichus, is not concerned about constitutions but only about his own self-interest. Besides, a potential constitutional change would not improve Athens’ relationships with its allies. These thoughts are confirmed both by Thucydides’ own comment as well as by subsequent developments.⁷⁹ However, Thucydides’ characterization of Phrynichus in ch. 27 is not connected only to ch. 48, as is usually argued. Given that Thucydides claims that Phrynichus’ insight would be proved right, not only concerning the opportunity of the naval battle after the battle of Mantinea but also “in many other cases”, he does not mention only Phrynichus’ dispute with Alcibiades⁸⁰ or his opportunistic cunning. Thucydides’ praise of Phrynichus carries a deeper admiration for this official’s ability in the conduct of war. In what follows, I argue that, despite

 Lycurg. Leocr. 113. Cf. Adeleye 1974.  Lang 1967, 181– 182; Westlake 1968, 242– 247; Hammond 1977, 147; Wilson 1989, 148; Murphy 1992, 554.  Westlake 1956, 99; Westlake 1968, 242– 247; Hammond 1977, 147; Wilson 1989, 148; Bloedow 1991, 25; Bloedow 1992, 151; Plant 1992, 249 – 250; Lang 1996, 289 – 295.  Westlake 1956, 99; Westlake 1968, 242; Hammond 1973, 49 ff; Hammond 1977, 149; Plant 1992. On the connection between 8.48 and the Pathology, see Grayson 1972.  See, for example, Lang 1996, 289 – 295.

4 The presentation of the events that prove the low morale

91

his objections to Phrynichus’ role in political and diplomatic conspiracies, Thucydides endorses Phrynichus’ opinion that the Athenians were to succeed in regaining their lost prestige and their old sea power only after much cautiousness, patience and preparation. For this reason, he created a cohesive narrative line made of six echoes of Phrynichus’ words in six different naval battles. The following confirmations of Phrynichus’ words are not always based on verbal repetitions but on recurrences of the Athenian general’s logic. For this reason, Morrison’s thoughts on the nature of the interaction of the speeches with the narrative in Thucydides are worth mentioning: “[…] Thucydides only rarely tells us in explicit terms […]. To notice whether a particular sequence of events confirms or corrects an earlier prediction, the reader must step in to juxtapose and compare what is argued for in speech with what actually happens in narrative.” Words and deeds are related to each other on a purely thematic level: “Sometimes speech-narrative interaction may be based on something fairly obvious, such as the same event or theme appearing in both speech and narrative”.⁸¹ As Hornblower argues in a different context, “no lexical overlap: the point (lexical similarity is not the only sort) is important.”⁸² Similarly, the echoes presented below are not created only by “verbal repetitions”. In addition, they are distant echoes.⁸³ First echo. The first confirmation of Phrynichus’ words comes in ch. 34.⁸⁴ The Athenians are presented as acting in a manner that is the opposite of what Phrynichus urged. While sailing alongside the coastline of Asia Minor and accompanying the infantry, they incidentally meet three Chian ships. The coincidental change in the weather is what makes the Athenians fail. Suddenly, the sea becomes rough and the Chians, who had been vulnerable up to that point, eventually manage to save their ships by entering their port, just before the Athenians reach them. In contrast, the Athenians end up losing three ships, which had pulled away from the Athenian fleet in an effort to reach the Chians. Even worse, these ships are transported to Chios. Their crews are captured and some of them are killed by the Chians. In the meantime, the rest of the Athenian fleet manages to escape to the port of Phoenicus. In this short episode, Thucydides describes a reversal at the expense of the Athenians. The circumstances had initially been ideal for them, as there were only three hostile ships. However, the Athenians tried to hold them back without

   

Morrison 2006b, 253. Hornblower 2011, 3 n. 12. For this technique in Thucydides, see Rengakos 2006, 284. Lang 1996.

92

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

any organized preparation, contra to what Phrynichus had advised. This event is the first example that proves the Athenians needed to be more careful from now on. Ch. 34 is filled with echoes of Phrynichus’ words, through antitheses between what he had proposed in ch. 27 and what his compatriots actually did. First, his advice on the necessity of prudent preparations (27.2) for any operation that is to take place henceforth is refuted by the verb ἐπιτυγχάνει,⁸⁵ indicating that the pursuit was totally coincidental. Moreover, Phrynichus’ admonition always to seek the right moment (27.3; 27.4) is not taken into account by the Athenians. One could hardly believe that such experienced sailors were unaware of the impending bad weather. The negative result is expressed by four HP verbs (διαφθείρονται, ἐκπίπτουσι, ἁλίσκονται, ἀποθνῄσκουσιν). In sum, Phrynichus’ advice to the Athenians not to create any trouble for themselves (27.3) would have been of most use for those who did exactly the opposite. Second echo. The second incident, which is much briefer, is to be found in ch. 39.3. In this case, it is the Peloponnesians who encounter ten Athenian ships, three of which they destroy. Once again, Phrynichus’ words on the necessity of calculating the enemy’s forces before any naval collision are contrasted with a “chance episode”.⁸⁶ The Athenians not only did not know that the numerically superior enemy was approaching (twenty-seven Peloponnesian ships against ten Athenian), but they also seemed to be totally unprepared: the περιτυχόντες of the narrative indicates an unexpected collision for which they did not prepare, thus refuting, as does the ἐπιτυγχάνει of the previous incident, Phrynichus’ advice on having well-planned operations (27.2; 27.3).⁸⁷ Third echo. The third confirmation comes in the description of the naval battle of Syme in ch. 42.1– 4. Although this is the most detailed battle description after the Sicilian account, the narrator is not interested in how the battle was conducted or its diplomatic ramifications,⁸⁸ but in how the unexpected factor of bad weather led the Athenians to defeat.⁸⁹ Their brief domination of the battle is expressed by a participle and three verbs, which are enlightening only as regards the result of the clash (προσπεσόντες, κατέδυσάν, κατετραυμάτισαν and ἐπεκράτουν), and not on how the Athenians achieved all this. This is also the

 This and the other 7 verbs of ch. 34 are in HP, which may be yet another indicator of Thucydides’ great interest in this event. See Hornblower (COT III, 846): “The concentration of historic presents in this snappy ch. (eight in seven lines of OCT) is intense”.  COT III, 867.  For a similar interpretation of the verb τυγχάνω see Foster 2010, 126 on the naval battle between the Athenians and the Samians (1.116.1).  This quite reasonably led to Falkner’s (1995) ingenious objections. Cf. Chène 2000.  COT III, 871.

4 The presentation of the events that prove the low morale

93

case in the description of their eventual defeat (ἀπεκλῄοντο, ἐς φυγὴν καταστάντες, ἀπολλύασι). The victory of the Peloponnesians is not attributed to their technical superiority but to the error of the Athenians in not following Phrynichus’ advice. He had urged them not to tempt providence without reason, but only if they are absolutely sure of the strength of the enemy, so that they can know how many triremes to use. In contrast, they based their decision on a false impression of the size of the hostile fleet (42.2: νομίσαντες ἅσπερ ἐφύλασσον ναῦς τὰς ἀπὸ τῆς Καύνου ταύτας εἶναι), with the result that they mobilized fewer triremes than they needed. Thucydides, even before his description of the battle, explains to the reader that the Athenians did not have a full picture of the size of the enemy forces (8.42.2). Once the rest of the Peloponnesian ships appeared (42.3: ἐπεφάνησαν αὐτοῖς παρὰ δόξαν), defeat was inevitable. Once again, all these details relating to bad weather and false calculations, just as with the ἐπιτυγχάνει and περιτυχόντες of the previous two incidents (34 and 39.3), simply confirm Phrynichus’ prediction that a military conflict for no reason would cause nothing but trouble for the Athenians.⁹⁰ Fourth echo. The fourth confirmation is to be found in ch. 79.1– 6. Here, the Athenians are presented as implementing Phrynichus’ instructions. Their fleet was anchored at Mycale, when the Peloponnesians, under the persistent pressure of the Syracusans, decide to attack them in order to force a decisive battle. The Peloponnesians sail with all 112 of their triremes (8.79.1) to Mycale. Their presence does not escape the attention of the Athenians, who retreat to Samos, because they have fewer ships, only eighty-two (8.79.2). Thucydides juxtaposes the size of the two fleets, in order to provide an explanation as to why the Athenians avoided facing the Peloponnesians (8.79.2: οὐ νομίσαντες τῷ πλήθει διακινδυνεῦσαι περὶ τοῦ παντὸς ἱκανοὶ εἶναι).⁹¹ The Athenians waited until they had been reinforced by the ships that were at the Hellespont under the command of Strombichides, and which were soon to arrive. The narrator now returns to Phrynichus’ instruction on the need for clear knowledge both of the state of one’s own fleet as well as that of the enemy. He achieves this by describing the Athenians as they watch the movements of the hostile fleet (79.2: ὡς εἶδον), having realized what the enemy’s purpose is (79.3: προῄσθοντο γὰρ αὐτοὺς ἐκ τῆς Μιλήτου ναυμαχησείοντας) and being fully aware of the state of their own ships (8.79.3). Only when Strombichides finally arrives do the Athenians decide to move on to Miletus, in order to fight. Thucydides purposely informs

 Even the word ὑετός itself means something sudden. See COT III, 871.  Hornblower (COT III, 984) writes: “Both the prudence … and the language used to express it, recall Phrynichus at ch. 27 (note esp. 27.2, διακινδυνεύσειν).”

94

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

us anew that the Athenians now have 102 ships at their disposal (8.79.6). This time, the Athenians were as well-prepared as Phrynichus had advised them to be. Fifth echo. The fifth echo of Phrynichus’ words comes in the description of the naval battle at the port of Eretria in ch. 94.3 – 95.7. The narrative vibrates with echoes of Phrynichus’ words: a) He had advised the Athenians to fight the enemy only when they were fully prepared. In this description, Thucydides constantly reminds the reader of the fact that the Athenians had been forced to fight even though they had been totally unprepared. Phrynichus’ phrase καθ’ ἡσυχίαν is contrasted with the phrases εὐθὺς δρόμῳ, κατὰ τάχος, ἐν τάχει βουλόμενοι βοηθῆσαι, εὐθύς and εὐθὺς ἐπλήρουν. b) Moreover, Phrynichus’ requirement that the fleet be properly organized (ἱκανῶς; μετὰ βεβαίου παρασκευῆς) is contrasted with the phrases ἀξυγκροτήτοις πληρώμασιν and ὅπως τύχοιεν ἀνάγεσθαι. c) Phrynichus’ exhortations to the Athenians that they should have clear knowledge of their own fleet as well as that of the enemy are contrasted with the fallacious notion (οἰόμενοι) of the Athenians that their crews would stay close to the ships at the port of Eretria, even though the Eretrians had planned to force the Athenian soldiers to leave the ships. d) Furthermore, Phrynichus had argued that the Athenians should take part in an open naval battle only if they were forced to (ἢ πάνυ γε ἀνάγκῃ; βιαζομένῃ). Thucydides constantly repeats this detail when discussing the naval battle of Eretria (ἀναγκασθέντες; ναυμαχεῖν ἠναγκάζοντο; ἐξαναγκάσειαν). e) According to Phrynichus, the Athenians should from henceforth be extremely cautious, because after the Sicilian disaster and the blockade of the city after the occupation of Deceleia, any mistake will have catastrophic effects (ἐπὶ ταῖς γεγενημέναις ξυμφοραῖς). Similarly, the description of the naval battle of Eretria both begins and ends with the historian’s comments on the gravity of the danger of losing Euboea, given the already difficult situation in ch. 95.2 and ch. 96.1. f) Moreover, Phrynichus had made clear to his peers that any losses would endanger the country’s future (μεγίστῳ κινδύνῳ περιπίπτειν), a thought Thucydides repeats in the description of the naval battle of Eretria (περὶ τοῦ μεγίστου ἐν τάχει βουλόμενοι βοηθῆσαι; ἔκπληξις μεγίστη). In essence, just as with the description of the naval battle of Syme, ch. 94.3– 95.7 offer a description not of the naval battle but of the preparation of the Athenians and of the reasons why they were not in a position to stage an organized fight. 26 out of the 36 lines of the OCT are dedicated to the conditions of panic under which the Athenians rushed to Eretria, and to the anarchic situation in their camp there. When Thucydides shifts from the Athenians’ παρασκευή to the presentation of the naval battle itself, he begins with the recapitulative sentence διὰ τοιαύτης δὴ παρασκευῆς οἱ A ᾿ θηναῖοι ἀναγαγόμενοι καὶ ναυμαχήσαντες … (95.5). His purpose is obvi-

4 The presentation of the events that prove the low morale

95

ously to describe not how the battle was conducted but to excuse the Athenian defeat by presenting it as the result of their fleet’s imperfect organization. With the phrase ὀλίγον μέν τινα χρόνον ὅμως καὶ ἀντέσχον, and specifically by using the particles ὅμως καί, Thucydides turns the Athenians’ defeat into a reason to praise them, claiming that their ability to resist – at least for a while – despite the difficult conditions was a significant feat. Not only in this description, but also in all the events presented so far, the center of interest is the circumstances under which the Athenians faced the enemy at sea. At Arginus, their battle against the three Chian ships, as we saw, came about completely coincidentally; this was the case also with the battle of Melos; last, in the two more extensive descriptions, those of Syme and Eretria, we would expect more details on how the battles were conducted. However, Thucydides dedicated almost all of his accounts in these cases to the reasons why the Athenians were unable to put up an organized fight. In all these examples, the Athenians’ skills are absent. The narrator knowingly removes the Athenians’ naval qualities from the foreground of the picture. Although from ch. 34 until ch. 94 he records five naval conflicts, in none of these do the Athenians exhibit their usual naval skills. One further characteristic example is the naval battle of Byzantium (thirteen chapters before Eretria), which Thucydides is content simply to mention (81.4). The continuous absence of Athenian virtues in the representation of these naval battles is one of the most significant narrative techniques used in the unit of ch. 25 – 107, a technique that involves postponing the final resolution. This resolution is the reappearance of the Athenians’ naval qualities in the description of the battle at Cynos Sema, where, as we will see, the narrator’s interest will lie not in the preparations made by the Athenians but in the way in which they conduct the battle: For the first time after the events in Sicily, he will reconstruct a complete picture of a naval battle, priming the reader with information about the arrangement of the fleets, the heads of each wing, the orders given during the fighting, the maneuvers of the ships, the transfer of one wing to another, the feelings of the crews, even the morphology of the landscape and how it determined – at least up to a certain point – the outcome of the clash.⁹² Consequently, all the previous coincidental incidents were intended to prepare the reader for the Athenians’ reappearance as the triumphant side in the first significant attempt to get their own back after their naval disaster in Syracuse. Through the constant postponement of the Athenian triumph, the narrator’s purpose is to make the reader feel the suspense and become impatient as to when the two fleets

 These are the basic parts of a Thucydidean battle description. See ch. 4.

96

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

will, at last, fight each other. In each of the previous examples, Thucydides makes the reader anticipate that (s)he will at some point see the Athenians fighting, yet every time he refutes the reader’s expectations. He attempts to force his readers to become anxious about when the virtues of the two enemies will again measure up against each other, yet this time without suspending elements, such as chance, bad weather or emergency. When will it become clear that the Athenians are still superior in naval battles, or have they indeed lost control of the sea? When will the illusion, held not only by the Peloponnesians but, in particular, by the Athenians themselves, that they are no longer the great sailors of the past, will be disproved? It has been argued that Book VIII provides a description of the Athenian recovery.⁹³ It would be more accurate to say that the book gradually prepares the reader not for the Athenians’ recovery of their power but for how they regain their lost confidence.⁹⁴ Sixth echo. Book VIII has been described as “a narrative of the deferment of expected resolution.” ⁹⁵ Such a conclusion should be examined in association with the role of the naval battle of Cynos Sema. Did this battle bring the end everyone expected at the end of the Sicilian expedition? Answering this question presupposes that we have first understood which resolution is fulfilled by the battle of Cynos Sema. First, there was the much desired end expected by the Spartans and the most of the Greeks, i. e. to destroy Athens and thereby finish the war, and the battle of Cynos Sema is indeed part of the deferment of that expected resolution.⁹⁶ However, after the Sicilian disaster onwards, there was also the expectation of a sizable naval battle and in this respect the battle of Cynos Sema constitutes the fulfillment of this expectation, both on a historical and a narrative level. In the description of the battle, all the previous confirmations of Phrynichus’ words reach a climax, while, at the same time, unit ch. 25 – 107 reaches its resolution. The second narrative thread also ends here, as we will see in the following chapter. Finally, the primary goal of the previous narrative, the presentation of a decisive and fully prepared naval battle, is fulfilled. Now, in contrast to the most of the preceding incidents, Phrynichus’ considerations are

 Connor 1984, 212.  On naval power in the Greek thought, including Thucydides, see Momigliano 1960. Kagan (2009, 20) points that the Sicilian disaster harmed, including other things, the Athenians’ prestige too. On the similar narrative thread that unfolds from the Pylos events onwards, see Schwinge 2008, 77– 88. Cawkwell (1997, 19) mentions that “the military narrative is to demonstrate how Athens used and lost her power”, a principle employed by Thucydides also in Book VIII.  Rood 1998, 262.  For the unexpected character of this battle, see Rood 1998, 280.

4 The presentation of the events that prove the low morale

97

followed exactly as he stated: As regards his advice on the need for preparation, this time, the condition of ἱκανῶς καὶ καθ’ ἡσυχίαν is satisfied by the Athenians (103.3: ἐς τὴν ναυμαχίαν πέντε ἡμέρας παρεσκευάζοντο). Moreover, Phrynichus had argued that the Athenians should conduct such a great naval battle with the participation of the largest sections of both fleets only if Athens was essentially threatened and a naval battle was the only solution. We have already described how Thucydides leads the reader to the conclusion that with the naval battle of Eretria the Athenians indeed had no choice but to fight. Similarly, in the naval battle of Cynos Sema, the historian utilizes one of the major narrative schemes of revolt type-narratives, namely speed (see chapter 1). The description of the naval battle in ch. 104– 106 represents the culmination of the narrative phase that began with the “big switch” in ch. 99.⁹⁷ In that chapter, the Peloponnesians start transferring their fleet northwards, to the Hellespont, in order to request of the satrap Pharnabazos that he undertakes to supply their army. However, this transfer means also a potential effort to detach the cities of that area from the Athenian League. For this reason, Thucydides again begins to describe a race that is typical in such cases. The Athenian general Thrasylus, realizing that the Peloponnesian fleet has left Miletus and is moving northwards, ἔπλει καὶ αὐτὸς ναυσὶν εὐθὺς πέντε καὶ πεντήκοντα, ἐπειγόμενος μὴ φθάσῃ ἐς τὸν Ἑλλήσποντον ἐσπλεύσας (100.1). Accordingly, the Peloponnesians’ journey from Chios to Hellespont is equally rapid (101.1: διὰ ταχέων; 101.3: διὰ ταχέων). Finally, when they arrive at the Hellespont, the Athenians are in a hurry to pre-empt them (102.1: ὡς εἶχον τάχους; 103.2: εὐθὺς ἀπολιπόντες τὴν Ἔρεσον κατὰ τάχος ἐβοήθουν ἐς τὸν Ἑλλήσποντον). The naval battle of the next chapters is the logical consequence of all these pursuits, as since ch. 99 the narrative has revealed to the reader that fighting is the only way for the Athenians to prevent the dissolution of their hegemony at the Hellespont. Phrynichus’ advice to fight only when they have no other choice is echoed throughout the whole episode. While a basic element of the other incidents was the fact that the enemies did not have a clear picture of each other and clashed only by chance when at sea, Phrynichus’ demand for circumstantial knowledge of the forces of both sides is adhered to on many occasions from ch. 99 until the final clash. The Athenians’ effort to gain information of the enemy’s exact movements, although not always successful, allows the whole narration to cohere. In ch. 99 – 103, the activities of the guards, the phryctories, and the messengers are described more vividly than anywhere else in the rest of Book VIII. Although on most occasions the Peloponnesians move secretly

 COT III, 933.

98

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

and arrive safely at their destinations, the Athenian guards are eventually informed of their activities. Even in the description of the naval battle itself, the two enemies, and the Athenians in particular, are presented as acting soberly once they have comprehended the enemy’s intentions. The composure of their movements is reflected by the repeated use of the verb γιγνώσκω (104.1: ὡς ἔγνωσαν ναυμαχήσοντες; 104.4: οἱ A ᾿ θηναῖοι γνόντες … ἀντεπεξῆγον καὶ περιεγίγνοντο τῷ πλῷ; 105.3: γνόντες δὲ οἱ περὶ τὸν Θρασύβουλον … ἠμύναντό τε καὶ τρέπουσι, καί … ἔκοπτόν τε καὶ ἐς φόβον … καθίστασαν).⁹⁸ Finally, the comment at the end of the description creates a ring composition with Phrynichus’ words. Phrynichus had told his colleagues that, whether they retreat or attack, they should wait for the right moment to do so. (27.3: ᾿Aθηναίους ναυτικῷ μετὰ καιροῦ ὑποχωρῆσαι; 27.4: τοὺς ἐπίπλους, ἤν που καιρὸς ᾖ, ποιεῖσθαι). Similarly, when discussing the naval battle of Cynos Sema, Thucydides refers again to the subject of the ‘appropriate moment’, arguing that this victory in particular was the most well-timed one after Sicily: τὴν μέντοι νίκην ταύτην τῆς ναυμαχίας ἐπικαιροτάτην δὴ ἔσχον (106.1).

5 The final comeback: The Spartans at Mantinea and the Athenians at Cynos Sema Thus far, we have presented the type-narrative that Thucydides used for the historical phenomenon of the military recovery of the defeated after a significant loss. In both test cases, that of the Spartans and that of the Athenians, we saw that the narrator prepares the reader for the defeat with a minor satellite battle. He then describes the defeat itself in such a way as to excuse the failure and thus prepares the reader for the recovery. Furthermore, after the defeat, the historian depicts an atmosphere of low morale among the defeated and, immediately afterwards, presents the events that will prove the correctness of his judgment, with these two stages constituting the first thread around which Book VIII is arranged in ch. 25 – 107. We will now argue that Thucydides continues to follow this typical scheme also in the description of the comeback itself, namely the battle of Mantinea for the Spartans and the naval battle of Cynos Sema for the Athenians. There is no need to search for similarities between the two battles, since these are not something that could be determined by Thucydides. Nonetheless, there are several affinities between the two battle descriptions on a composition-

 Which refers to γνώμη, a central concept in Thucydides (Huart 1968; Golfin 2011, 235 – 239).

5 The final comeback: The Spartans at Mantinea and the Athenians at Cynos Sema

99

al level. In both of them Thucydides’ purpose is the same, i. e. to stress the military skills of the Spartans and the Athenians, which had been doubted by the rest of the Greeks as well as by the Spartans and Athenians themselves. In the battle of Mantinea, Thucydides dedicates a large part of his account of developments before the battle itself to the organization and function of the Spartan hoplite army (5.66.3 – 67.1). Furthermore, he magnifies the idea of the Spartans’ superiority over their enemies through a series of comparisons. While the enemy leaders give rousing speeches before battle (5.69.1), the Spartan officials are laconic as they know, according to Thucydides, that what matters is bravery during battle and not rich words beforehand. This passage is one of the few where it is difficult to tell whether Thucydides is expressing the view of the Spartans or his own (5.69.2).⁹⁹ Moreover, when the two armies do clash, Thucydides creates one more antithesis in favor of the Spartans (5.70): “After this came the clash, as the Argives advanced with excitement and fury, the Lacedaemonians slowly and to the tune of many flutes as their law provides, not for religious reasons but so that they proceed evenly as they march to the music, and their formations do not break apart.” In the description of the naval battle of Cynos Sema, Thucydides makes a similar effort to praise the Athenians’ virtues as seamen, a subject that will be analyzed in the last chapter. At present, all we need say is that, independently of which techniques the historian uses in his account of the one or the other battle, his purpose is the same: to stress those virtues of the Spartans and the Athenians that had been questioned.¹⁰⁰ The two battles differ in terms of their details, and the battle of Mantinea is clearly the longer one. However, this does not mean that the account of the battle of Cynos Sema is less polished. Thucydides has not described the virtues of the Spartan hoplites before, and for this reason he is very descriptive.¹⁰¹ In contrast, he does not need to be as equally descriptive for the Athenians at Cynos Sema, as he has already described them many times throughout the work, and he thus chooses to use the technique of cross-referencing. However, the impressive similarity between the two comments at the close of the battles assures us that he is using the same typical narrative scheme. Here is the comment on the Spartans in ch. 5.75.3:

 The view expressed is governed by the participle εἰδότες. Therefore, it is not a view but a truth that the Spartans are presented as being familiar with, in contrast with their opponents.  For the battle at Mantinea, see Will 2003, 64.  On the organization of the Spartan army at the battle of Mantinea, see Woodhouse 1933, who sees the description as misleading. But see Gomme (1937b); cf. Singor 2002, 236 n. 1.

100

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

καὶ τὴν ὑπὸ τῶν Ἑλλήνων τότε ἐπιφερομένην αἰτίαν ἔς τε μαλακίαν διὰ τὴν ἐν τῇ νήσῳ ξυμφορὰν καὶ ἐς τὴν ἄλλην ἀβουλίαν τε καὶ βραδυτῆτα ἑνὶ ἔργῳ τούτῳ ἀπελύσαντο, τύχῃ μέν, ὡς ἐδόκουν, κακιζόμενοι, γνώμῃ δὲ οἱ αὐτοὶ ἔτι ὄντες. And the blame that they had incurred among the Hellenes, both for cowardice because of the disaster on the island and otherwise for indecision and slowness, was wiped away by this single deed, since it appeared that they had been humiliated because of luck while still the same men in spirit.

And here is its twin on the Athenians in ch. 8.106.1– 2: […] τὴν μέντοι νίκην ταύτην τῆς ναυμαχίας ἐπικαιροτάτην δὴ ἔσχον. φοβούμενοι γὰρ τέως τὸ τῶν Πελοποννησίων ναυτικὸν διά τε τὰ κατὰ βραχὺ σφάλματα καὶ διὰ τὴν ἐν τῇ Σικελίᾳ ξυμφοράν, ἀπηλλάγησαν τοῦ σφᾶς τε αὐτοὺς καταμέμφεσθαι καὶ τοὺς πολεμίους ἔτι ἀξίους του ἐς τὰ ναυτικὰ νομίζειν. […] and yet this sea battle gave them a victory at the best possible time. Afraid all the while of the Peloponnesian fleet, both because of a series of lesser failures and because of the disaster in Sicily, they were done with reproaching themselves or conceding their enemies any further merit in naval matters.

Both comments recapitulate a unit that began with failure and the loss of prestige and ends with the battle through which the lost glamour is regained. For the Spartans we have the unit Sphacteria – Mantinea and for the Athenians the unit Syracuse – Cynos Sema. The similarities between the two comments are as follows. After their victory, the victors recover from the disaster they had suffered (διὰ τὴν ἐν τῇ νήσῳ ξυμφοράν for the Spartans and διὰ τὴν ἐν τῇ Σικελίᾳ ξυμφοράν for the Athenians). Even the verbs Thucydides uses in order to discuss their release from ill repute are similar, as both are compounds beginning with the prefix ἀπό(ἀπ-ελύσαντο for the Spartans and ἀπ-ηλλάγησαν for the Athenians). Moreover, both the Spartans and the Athenians had already shaken off their low morale (τότε for the Spartans and τέως for the Athenians). A further similarity is the way in which for both cities Thucydides recapitulates the events that were magnified by or were the consequence of the defeatism that befell the two parties after their initial defeat (καὶ ἐς τὴν ἄλλην ἀβουλίαν τε καὶ βραδυτῆτα for the Spartans¹⁰² and διά τε τὰ κατὰ βραχύ σφάλματα for the Athenians). Last, a demonstrative pronoun is used in both cases (ἑνὶ ἔργῳ τούτῳ for the Spartans and τὴν μέντοι νίκην

 It could be suggested that with this phrase Thucydides refers to the Spartans’ indecision in general (cf. 1.70.2– 4; 8.96.5). However, the verbal similarities between the comment αἰτίαν … ἑνὶ ἔργῳ τούτῳ ἀπελύσαντο and Agis’ promise before the battle of Mantinea, ἔργῳ γὰρ ἀγαθῷ ῥύσεσθαι τὰς αἰτίας (5.63.3), strongly indicate that Thucydides focused mainly on the period between the events at Pylos and the battle of Mantinea.

Conclusions

101

ταύτην τῆς ναυμαχίας for the Athenians). These similarities, along with all the others outlined in this chapter, prove that Thucydides had conceived and implemented a typical format for the narration of large units, such as the two analyzed here on the military recovery of the defeated cities.

Conclusions From the first narrative unit of Book VIII, that of the Chian revolt, this chapter moved to the second unit, that of ch. 25 – 107. Given that the latter unit belongs to a broader narrative on the recovery of the Athenians, its starting point being their defeat in Sicily, this extensive account was examined from its very beginning until its closing section in Book VIII. As discussed, there is a similar composition in the narrative on the Spartan recovery, from their defeat at Sphacteria to their victory at Mantinea. The type-narrative Thucydides uses in both cases consists of the following parts: 1) preparation for the defeat; 2) the description of the defeat itself; 3) the depiction of the atmosphere of defeatism among the defeated; 4) the presentation of the facts that prove this psychological state; 5) the deceleration before the final recovery; and 6) the battle itself, whereby the defeated are finally able to restore their prestige. Book VIII contains the third and the fourth part of the type-narrative on the loss of prestige and its recovery. In other words, it is arranged on the basis of a narrative thread through which Phrynichus’ words on the difficult state of the Athenian fleet after the Sicilian disaster are confirmed. Despite the absence of speeches in Book VIII, the elaboration on the close relation of words with deeds is one of the basic means through which the book achieves coherence. In addition, the fact that Thucydides uses Phrynichus’ predictions as a cohesive thread throughout his narrative allows us to understand whether Thucydides was more affected by his objections to Phrynichus’ opportunism or by his admiration of his foresight. The narrative itself proves that Phrynichus, along with Themistocles, Pericles, Brasidas, and Alcibiades, can be considered as one of the most important protagonists of the History. Throughout Book VIII, Phrynichus’ judgment (and perhaps that of Thucydides) is transparent: The Athenians will regain their lost confidence and minimize their risks only if they fight their next naval battle after careful preparation. Throughout Book VIII, this echo, offered by Phrynichus, the provident general of the Ionian war, constantly recurs, so that we can conclude that, with this nar-

102

Chapter 2 The loss of prestige and recovery I

rative stage, Thucydides’ desire to teach us that “peace and freedom required power and preparedness” reaches its climax.¹⁰³

 Connor 1984, 4– 5.

Chapter 3 The loss of prestige and recovery II: The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema (8.25 – 107) In the previous chapter, we discussed the largest part of the typical compositional scheme used for the military recovery of the Spartans after the calamity that befell them at Sphacteria, as well as that of the Athenians after the Sicilian disaster. The type-narrative unfolds as follows: The narrator initially prepares the reader for the upcoming defeat through a battle of minor importance, where he presents, for the first time, the military methods which will lead to the defeat. After this, he composes the description of the defeat itself in such a way as to excuse the defeated and foreshadow their final comeback. He follows this up with a depiction of the psychological atmosphere and a presentation of the supporting facts. Finally, the narrative is completed with a description of the battle through which the defeated begin to recover, followed by a comment by the narrator as an epilogue. Now, as for Book VIII, if the echoes of Phrynichus’ advice shape the first central narrative line of ch. 8.25 – 107, then the second is composed by a series of cancelations, interruptions and vacillating situations. This narrative thread is a highly extensive retardation that prepares the reader for the final victory of the Athenians at Cynos Sema, just as the echoes of Phrynichus’ words do. Given that the largest part of Book VIII unfolds through this delay, a clearer definition of the term ‘retardation’ would be useful. Again, the deductions of the Homerists can help us understand the logic of Book VIII, given that the two epics, particularly the Iliad, are filled with techniques of retardation to such a degree that many scholars have argued that this technique is the basis of the whole of the Homeric narrative. Reichel and Rengakos have identified three basic categories of Homeric retardation types: “the interruption, the retardation itself and the temporary reversal of the plot”.¹ The interruption of the plot is usually put into effect through digressions and an unexpected shift in the plot.² As will be argued in this chapter, the two extensive retrospective digressions of Book VIII – in ch. 45 – 54 and ch. 63 – 77 – are examples of such retarding digressions.

 Rengakos 20102, 34. On these three categories of retardation in Homer, see Reichel 1990, 125 – 151; Rengakos 20102, 34– 48.  Rengakos 20102, 35 – 38. DOI 10.1515/9783110533071-004

104

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

The deceleration of the narrative pace can be achieved through several means, such as a detailed description or penetrating a hero’s thoughts.³ It is worth noting, however, that retardation can also be achieved cumulatively, i. e. through successive interruptions of the narrative or repeated reversals of the plot. If these two types of retardation appear with great frequency throughout a unit, then this unit has a decelerating effect as a whole, as is the case with the section under examination here (8.25 – 107). Consisting of numerous interruptions and reversals, it has a retarding effect in its entirety. As Rengakos observes, “it is clear that in order to maximize their effectiveness, these three types of retardation are used not in isolation but in combination.”⁴ The reversal of the route of the plot can be defined as an episode, the narrative goal of which was almost achieved. This technique is traceable both in Herodotus and Thucydides.⁵ The term used for this technique is the “Beinahe Episode”,⁶ and it is effectively the same as the technique Hornblower describes as “narration by negation” for Thucydidean episodes of this kind, wherein the narrator describes not what happened but what did not happen.⁷ In ch. 25 – 107 we find so many reversals of this kind that it could be argued that, from a certain perspective, the coherence of the narrative in Book VIII was achieved not through what happened but through what did not happen, or what almost happened. In this way, the narrative in Book VIII is constructed, in a peculiar way, on the basis of the nonexistent. At this point, we will now present the last part of the type-narrative that we began analyzing in the previous chapter, namely the retardations that prepare the reader for the Spartan recovery in the battle of Mantinea and that of the Athenians in the naval battle of Cynos Sema.

1 The retardation before the battle of Mantinea In ch. 5.27– 56, Thucydides narrates the period after the conclusion of the peace of Nicias (421 BC), when Spartan domination in the Peloponnese was continuously shaky. Corinth forms a confederation with Argos. The Mantinieans, the Heleians and, from outside the Peloponnese, the Chalcidians join them. The Spar-

 Rengakos 20102, 38 – 41.  Rengakos 20102, 35.  Rengakos 20102, 41– 48.  On this Homeric element in Thucydides, see Rood 1998, 173; Rengakos 2006, 294– 295; Grethlein 2010, 250 – 251. On its presence in epic poetry, see Nesselrath 1992.  On the terminology for this scheme, see COT II, 338.

1 The retardation before the battle of Mantinea

105

tans were giving their allies the impression that they were so unreliable that the Boeotians occupied Spartan Heraclea on the pretext that the Spartans were not capable of protecting it. Although the Corinthians left the anti-Spartan alliance, which they themselves had created, Argos had found a much more powerful ally, Athens. This confederation made Sparta’s enemies even more confident: the Argives start plundering the Spartan ally Epidaurus, while the Athenians relocate helots to Pylos, who plunder the land of Laconia. The Spartans fear that they are losing control of the Peloponnese (5.27– 56). In ch. 5.57, Thucydides opens a new narrative phase, that of the Spartan mobilization. This is a turning point in the narrative because, henceforth, it is the beginning of the end for the anti-Spartan coalition, which will finally come in the battle of Mantinea.⁸ Although the description of the battle is in ch. 66– 74, Thucydides is here, as we will see, already preparing the reader for the eventual confrontation through its repeated postponement. We thus have a narrative route from ch. 57 to ch. 75, structured along the following stages: a) Ch. 57– 65 preparation of the reader through the retardation; this stage can be divided into two parts, the first – double – cancelation of the battle (57– 60) and its second cancelation (63– 65); b) ch. 66 – 74 the main battle description; and c) ch. 75 epilogue. In what follows, we examine the two cancelations. In these episodes, the plot repeatedly deviates from its goal, the confrontation between the Spartans and their enemies. Although Thucydides prepares us for a battle, he intensifies our agony twice through the deviation of the plot. He will use the same technique in Book VIII, in an extensive form, in order to prepare us for the sea battle of Cynos Sema. Since some of the elements of the cancelations of the battle of Mantinea will also constitute the basic cohesive motifs⁹ of the more extensive retardation of Book VIII, we will therefore discuss them too, in order to elucidate what Thucydides was attempting to do in the longest section of Book VIII. The motifs of the retardation are: a) the accumulation of causative phrases at the beginning of the narrative; b) the reaction of the soldiers; c) the retaliations against the persons who deter the fight; and d) the escalation from one cancelation to the other. i. First cancelation (57– 60). We are at the point where the Spartans have already realized that the Argives are a major threat to their hegemony over the Peloponnese. The Argives had been plundering Epidaurus, fomenting anger in some cities, while others had already revolted against Sparta. In general, the situation in the Peloponnese required the Spartans to mobilize immediately, if they

 Kagan 1974, 248; Miller 1998, 443.  On the motifs of the narrative of 8.29 – 44, see Dewald 2005 148 ff., accepted also by Hornblower (COT III, 835).

106

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

wanted to maintain the status quo. Consequently, in the summer of 418 BC they campaign against Argos under the command of their king Agis πανδημεί, accompanied by the troops of their allies. The Spartans were moving toward Fleius, where they were supposed to meet their allies, but the Argives, who in the meantime had become aware of the Spartan preparations, meet them at Methydrion in Arcadia. Each side camps on a hill and a battle seems inevitable. At this point, however, we are presented with the first reversal: While the Argives intend to face the Spartans at dawn, the latter manage to leave unnoticed and continue marching on to Fleius. Moreover, Agis does not take the road to Nemea, which the Argives were expecting him to follow, but he invades the area of Argos from rugged spots and starts to plunder it. He has previously ordered the Corinthians, Pellenians and Fleiasians to follow him at dawn, while the Boeotians, Sicyonians and Megarians take the road for Nemea. The Argives return to Argos, in an effort to prevent the enemy from plundering their land, but they are surrounded on three fronts: By the Spartans, the Arcadians, and the Epidaurians on the Argos side; the Corinthians, Fleiasians, and Pellenians on the north; and the Boeotians, Sicyonians and Megarians on the Nemea side. Without fully comprehending the difficulty of the situation, the Argive and allied troops seek to confront the enemy, in the belief that fighting so close to Argos provided them with a great opportunity. At this point, we are presented with the second reversal. Although the reader anticipates that the two armies will very soon collide, at the very last moment, two Argives, the general Thrasylus and the Spartans’ consul Alciphron, find a way to avoid the clash. They reach an agreement with Agis for a four-month truce, during which time the Argives were to commit to the terms of the agreement. This agreement led to reactions from the soldiers on both sides. A few words on the motifs of this double cancelation: As previously mentioned, in this episode Thucydides opens up the new narrative route that will lead to the Spartans’ triumph at Mantinea. Thus, in order to stress even further that we are entering a new narrative phase, he accumulates many causative forms at the beginning of the narrative. This element will become a basic motif in Book VIII as well. Here, Thucydides deploys three causative clauses – ὡς αὐτοῖς οἵ τε Ἐπιδαύριοι ξύμμαχοι ὄντες ἐταλαιπώρουν καὶ τἆλλα ἐν τῇ Πελοποννήσῳ τὰ μὲν ἀφειστήκει, τὰ δ’ οὐ καλῶς εἶχε – which are connected to each other through the polysyndeton τε … καί … τὰ μέν … τὰ δ’ and are followed by the causative participle νομίσαντες (5.57.1). The Spartan decision to attack Argos seems to be the logical conclusion of an abundance of reasons. By composing the preparatory parts of a battle description (route-location and preparation), and thus preparing the reader for the final collision, Thucy-

1 The retardation before the battle of Mantinea

107

dides gives the reader the impression that a battle was about to follow.¹⁰ As we saw, the Argives rush to prevent the Spartans from proceeding, knowing that the latter were to meet their allies at Fleius (5.58.1). By the end, everything suggests that a battle is to follow: the Argives encountered the Spartans at Methydrion of Arcadia and each opponent camped on a hill (5.58.2). Furthermore, the narrator composed the other preparatory part that always appears before a battle, that of the preparation (5.58.2). Yet, while Thucydides composed the section with the route and the location of the two armies and gave the typical phrase on their preparation, he suddenly focused on the cancelation of the battle: Agis, as we saw, secretly removes his forces and goes to Argos. From this point on until ch. 59.3, as he composes a new route for the forces, gives their location at new sites and describes their new preparations, Thucydides is again providing yet another introduction to a battle. Nonetheless, the second cancelation follows. This time, Agis does not decide alone but in cooperation with two men from the opposite side to conclude a four-month truce. The narrative led us to a battle that never took place. The main element of both the double cancelation and the second cancelation is the dissatisfaction of the soldiers toward the persons who cancel the clash. Thucydides, before narrating the reactions, foreshadows them by saying that Agis and the two Argives agreed on the truce without consulting anyone. The historian stresses the arbitrary character of the decision through a ring composition. In ch. 59.4– 60.1, he mentions the two Argives, Thrasylus and Alciphron. The antithesis between the crowd’s enthusiasm for battle and the more sober men appears both at the beginning and at the end of this small unit. At the beginning, we read τὸ μὲν οὖν πλῆθος τῶν ᾿Aργείων καὶ τῶν ξυμμάχων οὐχ οὕτω δεινὸν τὸ παρὸν ἐνόμιζον, ἀλλ’ ἐν καλῷ ἐδόκει ἡ μάχη ἔσεσθαι … τῶν δὲ ᾿Aργείων δύο ἄνδρες (5.59.4– 5), while the unit ends in the same way: καὶ οἱ μέν … ἀφ’ ἑαυτῶν καὶ οὐ τοῦ πλήθους κελεύσαντος εἶπον (5.60.1). Immediately afterwards, in ch. 60.1, Thucydides mentions that Agis acted on his own initiative (αὐτός, καὶ οὐ μετὰ τῶν πλεόνων), and closes the paragraph with a ring composition, by giving this information yet again (οὐδενὶ φράσας τῶν ἄλλων ξυμμάχων). In what follows, we read of the reactions on both sides (5.60.2– 6). Concerning the Spartan allies, the narrative unfolds again in a ring composition. It begins with the period οἱ δὲ Λακεδαιμόνιοι καὶ οἱ ξύμμαχοι … ἐν αἰτίᾳ δ’ εἶχον κατ’ ἀλλήλους πολλῇ τὸν Ἄγιν, νομίζοντες ἐν καλῷ παρατυχὸν σφίσι ξυμβαλεῖν … (5.60.2), and ends in a similar way: τὸ μὲν οὖν στρατόπεδον οὕτως ἐν αἰτίᾳ ἔχον-

 See next chapter, pp. 156 – 159.

108

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

τες τὸν Ἄγιν ἀνεχώρουν (5.60.4). Similarly, with regard to the Argives we read ᾿Aργεῖοι δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ ἔτι ἐν πολλῷ πλέονι αἰτίᾳ εἶχον τοὺς σπεισαμένους ἄνευ τοῦ πλήθους, νομίζοντες κἀκεῖνοι μὴ ἂν σφίσι ποτὲ κάλλιον παρασχὸν Λακεδαιμονίους διαπεφευγέναι (5.60.5). More significantly, Thucydides is also interested in the retaliations against Thrasylus among the Argive army: on their return, the crowd began pelting him with stones. He fled to a nearby temple and escaped, although without preventing the confiscation of his property. Moreover, ch. 59.4– 60.6 shape a chiasmus: Arbitrary decision of the two Argives (59.4–60.1)

Arbitrary decision of Agis (60.1)

Reaction of the Peloponnesian army (60.2–4)

Reaction of the Argive army (60.5–6)

Similar details on retaliations will appear repeatedly and incrementally in the cancelations of Book VIII too. ii. Second cancelation (ch. 63 – 65). Between the previous double cancelation and this one, we are informed of the occupation of one more Spartan ally, Orchomenus (5.61). Through the prism of these developments, the second cancelation begins. Again, the narrative starts with the Spartans’ feelings about the difficult situation. Since the prevention of the battle at Argos, the Spartans had been accusing Agis of wasting a great opportunity to extinguish the Argives once and for all (63.1). The style is full of echoes of the previous cancelation. We again read the phrase ἐν μεγάλῃ αἰτίᾳ εἶχον, which echoes the ἐν αἰτίᾳ δ’ εἶχον … πολλῇ of ch. 60.2. Moreover, the Spartans believed that the lost opportunity could have been a very good thing if it had gone ahead (παρασχὸν καλῶς), a phrase which resembles the ἐν καλῷ παρατυχόν of ch. 60.2 and the κάλλιον παρασχόν of ch. 60.5. Furthermore, the sentence that explains the Spartans’ rage – ἀθρόους γὰρ τοσούτους ξυμμάχους καὶ τοιούτους οὐ ῥᾴδιον εἶναι λαβεῖν – is a summarized echo of the whole of ch. 60.3, in which he had explained the indignation of the Peloponnesian army (στρατόπεδον γὰρ δὴ τοῦτο κάλλιστον …). The ἀθρόους echoes the ἀθρόον and the τοιούτους is a short echo of the κάλλιστον … λογάδες … ἀξιόμαχοι. Last, the τοσούτους corresponds to the polysyndeton in ch. 60.3 Λακεδαιμόνιοί τε πανστρατιᾷ ἦσαν καὶ ᾿Aρκάδες καὶ Βοιωτοὶ καὶ Κορίνθιοι καὶ Σικυώνιοι καὶ Πελληνῆς καὶ Φλειάσιοι καὶ Μεγαρῆς. Through all these echoes, as

1 The retardation before the battle of Mantinea

109

well as through those presented below, Thucydides very tightly connects the two cancelations to each other, as he will also do with the numerous cancelations of Book VIII. The situation reaches a climax: The Spartans are informed of the occupation of Orchomenus, and Thucydides intensifies the atmosphere of dissatisfaction by using the καί in the sentence ἐπειδὴ δὲ καὶ περὶ Ὀρχομενοῦ ἠγγέλλετο ἑαλωκέναι and the πολλῷ δὴ μᾶλλον ἐχαλέπαινον right after. The retaliations against Agis then follow, i. e. the proposal that his house be destroyed and a fine of 100,000 drachmas be imposed on him. These punishments echo the Argive retaliations against Thrasylus in the previous cancelation, i. e. the stoning and the confiscation of his property (60.6). Another echo of the first cancelation is the law that the Spartans enact, which forbids Agis to lead a campaign without the co-supervision of ten officials. The phrase νόμον δὲ ἔθεντο ἐν τῷ παρόντι, ὃς οὔπω πρότερον ἐγένετο αὐτοῖς (63.4) is one more step toward the battle of Mantinea in comparison to the previous stage, where we read that Agis was the ultimate head of the army according to the law (60.2: ὡς ἡγεῖτο διὰ τὸν νόμον). Through all these elements, Thucydides pushes the reader even closer to the eventual resolution, the battle at Mantinea: Agis now hastens to make up for lost time. Things again come to a head: the Spartans learn of the upcoming revolt of Tegea (64.1). Their reaction is immediate: ἐνταῦθα δὴ βοήθεια τῶν Λακεδαιμονίων γίγνεται αὐτῶν τε καὶ τῶν Εἱλώτων πανδημεὶ ὀξεῖα καὶ οἵα οὔπω πρότερον (64.2). The αὐτῶν τε καὶ τῶν Εἱλώτων πανδημεί echoes the αὐτοὶ καὶ οἱ Εἵλωτες πανδημεί of the previous stage (57.1). From now until the battle of Mantinea, the narrative unfolds as it did with the first cancelation. Thucydides repeats the preparatory stage of route-location of the Peloponnesian army. The Spartans march to Oresteion and order the Arcadians to meet them at Tegea. They arrive at Tegea where, after a while, the Arcadians join them. In the meantime, the other allies are being prepared, having been ordered by the Spartans to meet them at Mantinea. The Spartans and the Arcadians arrive and set up camp. One again, the movements of their enemies are described as an answer to the Spartans’ movements (65.1). Thucydides, however, does not aimlessly offer the description of the Argives’ camping place “strong, unapproachable position” (ἐρυμνὸν καὶ δυσπρόσοδον). These two adjectives foreshadow the cancelation of the upcoming battle. As with the first annulment, although the narrator prepares the reader for the battle, he suddenly focuses on its cancelation. The Spartans attack, but, as soon as they are within striking distance, one of the Spartan officials of the Peloponnesian army dissuades Agis from waging a battle. His argument is that the enemies

110

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

have occupied “a strong position” χωρίον καρτερόν (65.2).¹¹ Agis, either because he is convinced by his councilor or for other reasons, which Thucydides seems not to be aware of,¹² removes the army, once again right before confronting the enemy. The adverb πάλιν in the sentence πάλιν τὸ στράτευμα κατὰ τάχος πρὶν ξυμμεῖξαι ἀπῆγεν (65.3) links this cancelation with the first one. On the opposite side, the Argive officials do not order their army to attack the retreating enemy. Again, as with the first cancelation, the crowd resents the generals’ unwillingness to act (65.5: ἐνταῦθα τοὺς ἑαυτῶν στρατηγοὺς αὖθις ἐν αἰτίᾳ εἶχον τό τε πρότερον καλῶς ληφθέντας πρὸς Ἄργει Λακεδαιμονίους ἀφεθῆναι καὶ νῦν ὅτι ἀποδιδράσκοντας οὐδεὶς ἐπιδιώκει …). The indignation is again stressed by the accumulation of causative clauses through a polysyndeton τε … καί … καί, as in ch. 5.57.1. Moreover, Thucydides, once again, connects the two cancelations (αὖθις … τό τε πρότερον … καὶ νῦν). Furthermore, the ἐν αἰτίᾳ εἶχον echoes the ἔτι ἐν πολλῷ πλέονι αἰτίᾳ εἶχον, while the καλῶς ληφθέντας echoes the κάλλιον παρασχόν (60.5). Last, the πρὸς Ἄργει resembles the πρός τε γὰρ τῇ σφετέρᾳ πόλει. In this way, Thucydides completes the second cancelation of the final resolution. The two cancelations (57– 60 and 63 – 65) jointly constitute a narrative whole, as was Thucydides’ intention. He did not compose them independently of each other. On the contrary, he linked them very tightly through all these echoes and through their structural similarities. Both begin with the feelings of the Peloponnesians, and proceed with the same phrase at the beginning of the campaign to the battlefield. The preparatory stages of the route-location and preparation follow, and then the cancelation, just after a few small skirmishes but at the very last moment before the battle. Finally, both cancelations end with the expression of the soldiers’ dissatisfaction toward the officials who avoided the battle.¹³

 On the postponement of a battle through the discouragement of a third person, see the example of the temporary interruption of the mnesterophonia due to Athena’s admonitions (Od. 22.200 – 240). On this example of postponement, see Rengakos 20102, 36.  Thucydides’ silence made Tamiolaki (2013, 47 n. 20) suggest that this passage is an exception to Thucydides’ habitual interest in motives. Rood (2006, 249) discerns a Herodotean style.  The Lacedaemonians’ reluctance to involve in a battle is also reflected by their decision to abandon their operations in 5.54.1 and 5.55.3.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

111

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema as the second narrative thread of ch. 8.25 – 107 Thucydides follows the same strategy in Book VIII (25– 107), although sometimes through different narrative means. As we saw in the previous chapter, the narration of all the naval clashes in the book until the naval battle at Cynos Sema is structured on the basis of the repeated presence of echoes of Phrynichus’ statements. Moreover, these battles delay the final resolution of the episode, i.e. the Athenians’ triumphal victory at Cynos Sema.¹⁴ All the clashes are presented as being of minor importance, both because they are not sizable and therefore do not have irretrievable consequences for the fleets, and because, in fact, in none of these clashes are the Athenians able to fight in the way they want. The reader constantly waits to see the Athenians exhibiting their naval virtues, but this they can never do because of some external factor. At Arginus, the inhibitory factor is the bad weather. At Melos, it is impossible for the Athenians to exploit any military skills, as they are taken by surprise by the hostile ships, which also outmatch them in number. At Syme, where it initially seems that they will win the battle, the bad weather and its consequence, the imperfect knowledge of the state of the hostile fleet, deprive them of the ability to fight as they wish. Last, in their defeat outside the port of Eretria, they are again unable to fight as they would wish, because they are taken by surprise and hence inadequately prepared. In all these examples, Thucydides always postpones the appearance of the Athenians as maritime expert. This identity is always present-absent. The route to the Athenian recovery is elaborately decelerated. There is a continuous cancelation, which prepares the ground for the final resolution, their victory at Cynos Sema. Although it is reasonable to assume that if Thucydides had completed his work, he would have created a final culmination,¹⁵ in ch. 25– 107 the climax is reached in the description of the naval battle of Cynos Sema.

 According to Romilly, Book VIII lacks passion. However, we should bear in mind that Thucydides is partly addressing a limited audience consisting of politicians and military officials (Scardino 2007, 1), which is why the continuous expectation of the final conduct of a naval battle of prestige such as that at Cynos Sema undoubtedly created suspense for these ancient readers. The significance of the battle for the thematic coherence of the book has been completely, as far as I am aware, underestimated and even neglected by modern scholarship. However, we should not overlook Hornblower’s (2004, 4) observation that Thucydides saw the war partly as an athletic contest of military virtue between the two sides. This is one of the reasons why Book VIII does not enthuse modern readers, as the latter do not, anachronistically, take the ancient Greeks’ interest in issues of military prestige seriously into account.  Finley 1942, 246– 247.

112

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

Alongside the retardation caused by the battles that did take place, Thucydides composes a second¹⁶ narrative thread of delay¹⁷ on the basis of those battles that never took place, namely through successive cancelations of the basic narrative goal, of a sizable and therefore decisive naval battle. In other words, the account at 8.25 – 107 unfolds on the basis of two narrative threads. In the previous chapter we presented the first, that of the minor naval skirmishes, which were echoes of Phrynichus’ thoughts and offered coherence to the narrative while preparing the ground for the decisive naval battle at Cynos Sema.¹⁸ At the same time, the technique that is mostly preparatory for the battle description of Cynos Sema is the continuous cancelation of this battle:¹⁹ throughout unit 8.25 – 107, there are eleven occasions during which we have an opportunity for a massive showdown between the two fleets, but the one or the other side does not take advantage of the opportunity. If the minor episodes of the first narrative thread focus on the Athenians and their low morale due to these unfortunate incidents, then the second narrative thread concerns the opposite side, the Peloponnesians. First stage (ch. 25 – 28). In the previous chapter, we saw that through the battle of Miletus and Phrynichus’ speech, Thucydides slows down the narrative pace and thereby moves from the Chios narrative to this one. In the battle of Miletus, the eventuality of a decisive naval battle arises for the first time and from now on will be the factor that makes the whole unit of ch. 25 – 107 cohere. Both sides realize that after this battle there was an opportunity for a much more significant battle to be fought. Compound verbs with the prefix διά- appear here for the first time and become a very frequent element of the unit, indicating what the goal of the plot is to be from now on. In this case, Alcibiades advises the Peloponnesians to go quickly to Miletus, if they do not want to lose complete con-

 On Thucydides’ ability to exploit more than one technique simultaneously, see collectively Rusten 2009b, 14– 15; Christodoulou 2013, 225.  Retardation is the basic technique through which Thucydides composes the narration of Book VIII from ch. 25 onwards. For this reason, I cannot accept the argument that he “is forced” to expand the extent of his account due to the disparate data (abundance of persons and places), as Connor (1984, 218) believes. Thucydides purposely expands the narrative through the technique of retardation.  For the naval battle of Cynos Sema as the first significant showdown after Syracuse, see Mewes 1868, 26; Hellwig 1876.  Marcellinus seems to endorse the view of his contemporaries that the events described in the eighth book could have been more extensively narrated (see also Rawlings 1981, 179, who considers the narration of the eighth book as like a compendium – “sketchy and rapid-paced” – as the Pentecontaetia). However, it depends on which events one has in mind. Given the narrative expansion of Book VIII, one wonders how much more extensive the narrative could have been.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

113

trol of Ionia (8.26.3: διολέσαι), while Phrynichus’ co-generals are keen to wage a decisive naval battle (8.27.1: διαναυμαχεῖν). Through this repetition, Thucydides introduces us to the subject of the new narrative section of ch. 25 – 107. Moreover, Phrynichus’ speech (27) and the Spartans’ activity at Iasus shape a chiasmus with the next two chapters (29 – 30). Ch. 29 begins with the sentence ἐπειδὴ τὴν Ἴασον κατεστήσατο ὁ Τισσαφέρνης ἐς φυλακήν, while in ch. 30 the phrase καὶ τὰς ἀπὸ Χίου καὶ τὰς ἄλλας πάσας ξυναγαγόντες … ἐπίπλους τῇ Μιλήτῳ ἐποιοῦντο echoes Phrynichus’ instructions ἀποπλεῖν ἐς Σάμον, κἀκεῖθεν ἤδη ξυναγαγόντας πάσας τὰς ναῦς τοὺς ἐπίπλους … ποιεῖσθαι (27.4).²⁰ The deceleration of the narrative pace through the battle description of Miletus and the Athenian meeting, the introduction and repetition of the διά- compounds, and the chiasmus are the means by which Thucydides marks the new phase of the war, leading to the naval battle of Cynos Sema. In this case, the retarding effect emerges from the meeting of the Athenian admirals. The fleet of the enemy awaits the reaction of the Athenians, while the two Athenian admirals are also willing to put up a fight. The reader’s suspense increases, as (s)he observes a situation that is up in the air, yet with no resolution: The tension peaks as the two fleets are ready to attack each other. Thucydides, however, focuses on the reversal of the situation through Phrynichus’ dissuasive speech. The Athenian fleet is eventually transferred to Samos, while the Spartans and their allies are to occupy Iasus. Second stage (ch. 31– 32). It is the winter of 412 BC. The Athenians have already started besieging Chios (8.24). As they sail to the island with thirty ships and hoplites, the Spartan admiral Astyochus does not dedicate himself to putting up a defense of the island. After arresting some pro-Athenian Chians as possible coup plotters, he abandons the island and moves on to the coast of Minor Asia, where he unsuccessfully attempts to occupy the cities of Pteleon and Clasomenae, in collaboration with the local satrap Tamos. Astyochus has settled at Cyme due to the bad weather, while Lesbian ambassadors arrive and ask for his help in their effort to revolt against the Athenians. He is ready to assist them, but the allies are not in the same mood. Even Pedaritus, his compatriot and new commander of Chios, is not willing to weaken the island’s position by offering Astyochus – who has returned to Chios – a fleet for Lesbos. Astyochus is thus unable to help Lesbos. For this reason, he leaves Chios in a very angry mood, threatening the Chians and Pedaritus that he will not help them again in the future, if they are ever in need of him.²¹

 Cf. the chiastic scheme in ch. 8.1– 4 (Bodin 1912, 23 – 24).  Hornblower (COT III, 844) rightly describes the information as a narrative seed.

114

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

Already at this early stage, Thucydides has offered the basic elements through which he will build the long-scale, decelerating escalation of ch. 25– 107. These are: the state of the Peloponnesian troops; the opportunity for the two fleets to clash; and the reasons as to why the clash is canceled or avoided. Concerning the first, Thucydides presents Astyochus as neglecting to protect Chios, although his fleet is in a very good condition (31.1: τὰ περὶ τὴν ξυμμαχίαν βελτίω ὄντα). As with much other information made available at this stage, this detail is a narrative seed, the significance of which will be revealed by the narrator much later (ch. 78, ch. 80, and ch. 83.3). Foster discerns narrative seeds that are so distantly recognizable that they may even be two books apart from their fulfillment.²² This is also the case for the narrative seeds of Book VIII presented below. Thucydides describes the events as if he does not know of their consequences as he is narrating them, in order to make the reader experience the historical developments exactly as the protagonists had experienced them, i.e. in a gradual way.²³ For now, Thucydides refers to Astyochus’ indifference to Chios so neutrally that the reader does not apprehend the real reasons for such a reference. During these first stages of the plot, Astyochus’ motivation has not been penetrated, so that all the events seem to be merely “seemingly unmotivated repetitions”.²⁴ Still, the historian does not write anything for no reason. Later, we will learn that, in the opinion of the Peloponnesian troops, Astyochus should have waged a naval battle against the Athenians, especially at the juncture when the Peloponnesian fleet appeared to be in an excellent condition.²⁵ This will be the moment when the historian will finally reveal how annoyed the troops were with Astyochus’ inactivity, not only in the present case but also on other  Foster 2010, 46 n. 6.  See Grethlein 2013, 93: “Of course, the backwards gaze of historiography separates the historical agents from Thucydides and his readers. What is still future for the former is already past for the latter. That being said, Thucydides’ account illustrates how far a historian can go in abandoning the advantage of hindsight and making the past present through narrative.”  Shanske 2009, 2.  Holzapfel (1893) thought that in this case, the Peloponnesians had absolutely no advantage over the Athenians, despite the fact that the 88 Peloponnesian ships outmatched the 74 Athenian ones. His arguments are that the Athenians, even with fewer triremes, were still more experienced, and that their fleet was more homogeneous than the Peloponnesian one. As for the first point, we should not forget that the Athenian crews that served in the Ionian war were not as experienced as those lost at Syracuse (8.1.2). Moreover, Peloponnesian morale was better: the Athenians were less confident in naval operations and considered the enemy equivalent to or even better than them (8.106.2), while the latter, especially the Syracusans, had gained self-confidence after their victories in the port of their city against the Athenians. Therefore, the advantage of fourteen triremes is not to be considered negligible. Besides, in the naval battle of Cynos Sema, the Peloponnesians had only ten ships more than the Athenians.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

115

similar occasions. We have already seen with the cancelations before the battle of Mantinea that the reaction of the soldiers is one of Thucydides’ favorite subjects. However, in Book VIII, troop reactions are, for now, deliberately concealed and will be brought into play much later, in order for Thucydides to bring the route to the clash at Cynos Sema to a culmination. For now, the sailors’ dissatisfaction is merely latent in the narrative, so that its later revelation will serve the escalation of the imperative need for a decisive naval battle. Thucydides intends to reveal all the details gradually, in order to reach the culmination he desires. For this reason, it is not yet clear that the opportunity for a naval battle had been missed. We should not forget, however, that while Astyochus was in Asia Minor, the Athenians were sailing against Chios. So, the Spartan admiral could have arranged his fleet and waited for the Athenians’ arrival, in order to confront them there. On the contrary, he prefers to deal with the annexation of some Asiatic cities and to support a possible Lesbian revolt. One could justifiably agree with Erbse’s view that in this case Thucydides is implicitly criticizing Astyochus.²⁶ In the present phase, Thucydides offers no hint that helping Chios could imply a decisive naval battle against the Athenians. He will gradually reveal this message to the reader, stage by stage, each time through the addition of another detail. Astyochus’ actions in ch. 31– 32 function within the plot as the reason for the first cancelation of a meeting between the two fleets. His operations at Pteleon and Clasomenae are linked to the situation at Chios through the pair of antithetical conjectures μέν … δέ in the period τούτου μὲν ἐπέσχεν … λαβὼν δὲ ναῦς … (31.1). Consequently, Astyochus’ actions in Asia Minor are not recorded independently of their context, but are included in it as the reason for the delay of the developments in Chios. Moreover, the style shows that Thucydides is not merely copying down his notes; he writes on the attempt at Pteleon προσβαλών … καὶ οὐχ ἑλών (31.2), which he later alters when using it for Clasomenae: the participle προσβαλών is changed into προσβολὴν ποιησάμενος, while the participle οὐχ ἑλών is replaced with the phrase οὐ δυνάμενος ἑλεῖν. The style is especially polished, demonstrating that this is not a sketchy recording of events. Thucydides’ special effort concerning the variatio in these two passages is apparent.²⁷ The author took especial care over the style in the first deceleration. Attention should also be paid to the narrative role of the detail that Astyochus was helped by the Persian hyparch Tamos (31.2). Although Will character-

 Erbse 1989, 9.  See Chapter 1, p. 31 n. 35.

116

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

izes the current relationship between Astyochus and Tissaphernes as vague,²⁸ their confederation shows that at the present moment Astyochus is more interested in collaborating with the Persians than in helping the Chians. Besides, one of the terms in the first treaty between the Spartans and Persia was that the former must prevent the Greek cities of the Persian Empire from paying tribute to the Athenians. Astyochus seems to dedicate his efforts to fulfilling this term,²⁹ instead of seeking a decisive naval battle against the Athenians. The information on Tamos’ participation is another narrative seed. Much later, it will spark the anger of the Peloponnesian troops. For these troops, Astyochus’ activity at Pteleon and Clasomenae was nothing more than the delay of the showdown with the Athenians and not the proof of his zeal, as Holzapfel believed.³⁰ Thucydides does not use a source that is friendly to Astyochus.³¹ On the contrary, the events at Pteleon and Clasomenae justify the dissatisfaction of the Peloponnesian troops. The fact that the Spartan ξύμβουλοι did not depose him does not mean that they approved of his choices.³² It is merely the Spartans’ usual tactic of avoiding deposing and punishing their officials.³³ The antithesis between the robustness of the Peloponnesian fleet and the obstructionism of their leaders is characteristically reflected in Fellner’s words: “Sparta besitzt zwar eine sehr tüchtige Flotte. Die Befehlshaber aber sind ‘u n f ä h i g’, einen entscheidenden Schlag zu führen (28 – 47). Mit unnützem Hin- und Hersegeln vergeuden sie die Zeit und sind nur für Tissaphernes thätig”.³⁴ The second event that inhibits any clash between the two fleets at Chios is equally hard to discern, as this particular narrative seed will only offer its fruits as the story unfolds. This is the Lesbians’ proposal to Astyochus that he help them in their revolt against the Athenians.³⁵ By mentioning this subject, Thucydides takes advantage of yet one more opportunity to reveal to the reader that Astyochus’ intention is to deal with anything but the case of Chios.³⁶ Once more, however, as with most of the information given at this stage, this information is not easy to interpret correctly without taking the following stages of the narrative into account. For, the incident is a narrative twin of the Eretrian pro Will 2003, 65.  Rawlings 1981, 201.  Holzapfel 1893, 439.  Holzapfel 1893, 441.  As Holzapfel and Wilamowitz (1908, 590) believed.  Cf. their attitude toward Pausanias (1.131– 135).  Fellner 1880, 10.  Andrewes (HCT V, 74– 75) rightly complains about the purposeless repetition of 31.1 in § 3.  As Westlake (1956, 102) writes, Thucydides elaborately gives certain information in order to build up the portrait of Astyochus.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

117

posal in ch. 60.2. Although Astyochus now chooses to neglect Chios in favor of the Lesbians, by contrast, as we will see, he will reject a similar invitation from the Eretrians, because, according to Thucydides, Chios will then become a priority for the Peloponnesians. The increase in the Spartans’ interest in the Chians from this stage to ch. 60.2 will escalate the route to the final resolution, the decisive clash of the fleets. The narrative relationship of the two cases will be discussed below, in the analysis of ch. 60. Third stage (ch. 36 – 38). It is still the winter of 412 BC. With Lesbos as the base of their operations, the Athenians are ready to reinforce their siege of Chios by building a wall. During the same period, the Spartan Hippocrates arrives in Ionia with twelve triremes. Only six of them escape the Athenians at Triopion (8.34– 35). Although the situation within the Peloponnesian fleet is still satisfactory, Sparta and Persia conclude a second treaty, as the Spartans are not happy with Tissaphernes. Thucydides presents the text of the treaty and then shifts the field of action to Chios, where the situation of the inhabitants has deteriorated. The Athenians have started walling up Delphinium, while the besieged Chians are also suffering from internal political commotion due to the persecutions and executions of pro-Athenian citizens. Consequently, they ask Astyochus for help, which he denies. In this same period, the Athenians attack the coastline of Miletus and return to their base, since the Peloponnesians are not willing to confront them (8.36 – 38). In the discussion of the two cancelations before the battle of Mantinea, we described the way in which Thucydides connected them to each other. First, he incorporated timely echoes of the one inside the other. Second, he structured them in quite similar ways. Moreover, these events were presented gradually and not in a manner unrelated to each other. Thucydides uses exactly the same tactic with the retardation of Book VIII: Through echoes and structural similarities, the present stage is connected both to the preceding one as well as to the following ones. Concerning its connection to the previous stage, once again Thucydides first describes the good condition of the Peloponnesian troops. The shorter τὰ περὶ τὴν ξυμμαχίαν βελτίω ὄντα (31.1) of the second stage is echoed by the whole of ch. 36, where Thucydides provides greater detail: the soldiers are still being paid well; the spoils from the occupation of Iasus have not yet been wasted; and the Milesians are still willing to cooperate. The present chapter is also connected to the next cancelations. The narrator introduces all this information in the sentence οἱ Πελοποννήσιοι εὐπόρως ἔτι εἶχον ἅπαντα τὰ κατὰ τὸ στρατόπεδον, with the adverb ἔτι foreshadowing the subsequent de-

118

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

terioration of the situation.³⁷ Specifically, the sufficient payment of the salaries thus far foreshadows ch. 78 and ch. 80, when the troops will resent the lack of money.³⁸ The Milesians’ current willingness foreshadows their reaction against Tissaphernes in ch. 84.4– 5. Holzapfel believes that there is a discrepancy between ch. 36 and ch. 29, as in ch. 36 Thucydides presents the conditions within the Peloponnesian fleet as good, whereas in ch. 29 he had mentioned a reduction in salaries. There is, however, absolutely no discrepancy. In ch. 29 Thucydides clearly wrote that the reduction had not yet taken place, but that this was something Tissaphernes intended to do. Until ch. 36 no reduction must have occurred. However, the Spartans, knowing that this was inevitable, must have attempted to prevent it by agreeing a new treaty. Holzapfel bases his opinion on the information Thucydides gives that Alcibiades τήν τε μισθοφορὰν ξυνέτεμεν (8.45.2). However, the Aorist ξυνέτεμεν does not mean the implementation of the reduction but that it was merely decided. In the field of modern politics, we often say that “the government reduced the salaries” meaning that they decided on the reduction, although it may only be implemented months after the decision.³⁹ For now, as during the second stage, Thucydides uses the information on the good condition of the anti-Athenian confederation in a neutral way, without mentioning –either through a personal comment or by focalizing the thoughts of the troops – that Astyochus should take advantage of his robust fleet in order to confront the Athenians in a decisive naval battle. For now, this is merely another narrative seed. This is also the case with some of the terms of the document of the second treaty, terms that are revealing of the Spartans’ efforts to improve the conditions of their financing from Persia (8.37.3 – 4). What these terms reveal is that the Spartans were not satisfied with the financial agreement with

 Hornblower (COT III, 854) also takes ἔτι as a narrative seed for Tissaphernes’ presence.  Brunt (1952, 83) believes that the soldiers were paid properly in the first month, which is why ch. 36 may well refer to this month. I agree with Erbse (1989, 34– 35) that ch. 29 and ch. 45 refer to the same event. Cf. Prenzel 1903, 22; Kunle 1909, 23. Erbse argues that the news that Alcibiades’ execution had been ordered had reached him much earlier, through his friends at Sparta (probably Endius), and that he had already decided to change sides. Erbse’s point that from ch. 26 onwards Alcibiades is not mentioned again as ally of the Spartans is very convincing and also fits well with ch. 45.  Cf. Kunle 1909, 23 – 24. Andrewes (HCT V, 96 – 97) also accepts the view that there is an inconsistency between the two chapters. Hornblower (COT III, 855), for his part, believes that ch. 36 prepares for the treaty very smoothly.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

119

Tissaphernes,⁴⁰ foreshadowing the future complications in their relationship with him. We can therefore hardly accept Heitsch’s view that Thucydides did not intend to publish the document of the treaty and that he planned to omit or change it in a hypothetical revision of Book VIII.⁴¹ Thucydides contrasts the good condition of the Peloponnesian troops with Astyochus’ unwillingness to send the fleet to Chios. Once again, as with the previous stage, the picture presented is that Astyochus is loath to fight with the Athenians, even though the fleet is in perfect condition. The description of the fleet is the primary perspective from which the narrator forces the reader to evaluate the choice of the Spartan officials not to attack.⁴² Yet, the need to attack is created by the difficult state in which the besieged island of Chios finds itself. From this point until the great culmination of ch. 60, Thucydides increasingly intensifies the need for a naval mission to the island. He employs his usual techniques for the description of a besieged city, which will henceforth occur repeatedly in most of the following stages in situations concerning the Chians until the great culmination of ch. 60, as well as those concerning the Peloponnesian troops until the resolution in ch. 106. In the present stage, the escalation is stressed by the following techniques: a) Accumulation of causative phrases or words arrayed in a polysyndeton:⁴³ in the analysis of the cancelations before the battle of Mantinea, we saw that Thucydides used this technique in order to stress the problems and the reasons leading to a battle. Here, we have the causative participles πεπληγμένοι, οὐ πάνυ εὖ διακείμενοι, τεθνεώτων, κατεχομένης and ὑπόπτως διακείμενοι ἀλλήλοις, which are connected in the polysyndeton καὶ ἄλλως … ἀλλὰ καί … καί … and are recapitulated in the διὰ ταῦτα. In this way Thucydides wishes to emphasize that the difficulties of the Chians were even harsher than before.

 They also constitute a development concerning the financing issue. See COT III, 855 – 856: “it is the main respect in which, from the Peloponnesian point of view, treaty (2) is an improvement on treaty (1).”  Heitsch 2006, 63.  For this reason, I cannot accept Holzapfel’s (1893, 456 – 457) view that in ch. 29 – 44 Thucydides follows a source that is friendly to Astyochus, which he was unable to incorporate, as well as the source opposed to Astyochus of ch. 45 – 54. Indeed, in ch. 29 – 44 Thucydides neither judges Astyochus’ choices explicitly nor mentions the reactions of the Peloponnesian crews. But he does so on purpose, in order to delay the revelation of this information at the proper moment and thereby to create an escalation.  On the technique of the accumulation of causative phrases as a means of stressing the difficult state of the besieged, see 2.59.1; 2.70.1; 3.20.1; 3.27.1; 3.52.1; 4.66.1; 5.61.5.

120

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

b) Delayed information: Only now are we informed that the Chians had been dealing with internal frictions even after Astyochus’ earlier interference in ch. 24.6. Since ch. 24.6 we have had no reference to the political life of Chios, although there had very possibly been political conflicts during the period described in ch. 24.6 – 38.3. Even the information in ch. 24.6, that right after the blockade of the city some democratic citizens had tried to reach an agreement with the Athenians, does not prepare the reader for the scale of the tension marked by the οὐ πάνυ of ch. 38.3. This is thus new information, and Thucydides places it here in order to give the impression that it is an additional problem for Chios as well as to escalate the sense of the need for a mission of the fleet to the island. Other delayed information is that, in the minds of the Chians, oligarchy was nothing other than a necessary evil (38.3), and that Pedaritus had ordered the execution of some proAthenian followers of a certain Tydeus. This event happened sometime between Pedaritus’ arrival on the island (32.2) and the present point (38.3), but Thucydides chooses to mention it here. He belatedly places all this information at this point in order to intensify the deterioration of the situation of the Chians in comparison with the previous stage. Given these circumstances, the Chians send envoys to Miletus asking Astyochus to help them. This information (38.4: ἐς μέντοι τὴν Μίλητον ἔπεμπον κελεύοντες σφίσι τὸν A ᾿ στύοχον βοηθεῖν) is a new narrative seed, which hints at the need for a decisive naval battle against the Athenians. For now, Thucydides does not reveal to us that the σφίσι … βοηθεῖν means a decisive clash; he merely leaves this possibility hidden in this phrase. However, as we will see, in ch. 40.1, ch. 55.2 and ch. 60.3 he will add some other details to the phrase, through which he will gradually push the reader into thinking that providing assistance to Chios implies a great battle. Yet, now comes the cancelation of the mission to assist – and thus of the decisive clash – in the phrase ὡς δ’ οὐκ ἐσήκουεν (i. e. Astyochus), which continues the thread that begins at the τούτου μὲν ἐπέσχεν (31.1) of the first stage. In addition to this cancelation, there is yet another one in this chapter, when we learn that the Athenians were hoping to confront the Peloponnesians, but the latter remained inactive: αἱ δ’ ἐκ τῆς Σάμου νῆες αὐτοῖς ἐπίπλους μὲν ἐποιοῦντο ταῖς ἐν τῇ Μιλήτῳ, ἐπεὶ δὲ μὴ ἀντανάγοιεν … (38.5). Once again, the suspense is created by a lingering situation with no resolution. This is another retardation of the final resolution, which is to come much later. Again, as in the τὰ περὶ τὴν ξυμμαχίαν βελτίω ὄντα (31.1) and ch. 32 of the second stage and ch. 36 of this stage, the hesitation of the officials of the Peloponnesian fleet fore-

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

121

shadows the indignation of the troops against Astyochus in ch. 78 and ch. 84.2– 3 due to his unwillingness to confront the Athenians. Fourth stage (ch. 39 – 43). Astyochus’ indifference to Chios caused Pedaritus, the island’s governor, to send his complaints to Sparta. In that very same winter, the Spartan government responds to Pedaritus’ appeals and sends eleven men accompanied by twenty-seven ships to Ionia. These men, who were to supervise Astyochus’ admiralship, also had the authority, if necessary, to replace him with Antisthenes, the commander of the twenty-seven triremes (this detail is reminiscent of the measures taken at the expense of Agis at Mantinea). As we saw in the first chapter, these ships travel from Malea and clash with ten Athenian triremes. They then avoid sailing straight onto Caunus but arrive there after a detour to Crete, in order to bypass the Athenians. The Spartans on board the ships are well aware that very soon the Athenians will notice their presence, and so, as soon as they reach Caunus, they immediately send a message to their compatriots at Miletus, requesting them to come and take them away (8.38.4– 39.). After this chapter, Thucydides again escalates the difficult state in which the besieged Chians find themselves. The Chians now have another problem – their slaves have defected to the Athenians. The Chians thus again send messengers to Astyochus, in a request for his help. Given their previous unwillingness to help him, however, he does not wish to provide them with assistance. Nevertheless, under pressure from the allies, he is prepared to satisfy the Chian request and to send them a fleet (8.40.1– 3). Yet, once again, the mission of the ships is canceled. Astyochus, on being told of the arrival of the twenty-seven ships at Caunus, neglects the situation with Chios and hastens to meet the newly-arrived fleet (after which the naval battle at Syme follows) (8.41– 43). This reversal is pivotal. For the first time, Thucydides makes the reader have the suspicion that helping Chios entails waging a decisive naval battle. In the previous stage, we saw that Thucydides had made no hint that the σφίσι βοηθεῖν (38.4) would probably mean a decisive clash between the two fleets. We also noted that the significance of this phrase was to be gradually revealed through the ensuing events with the addition of further details. Thus, at this point the reader takes a step closer to the realization that the possibility of a sizable naval battle being waged is latent in the mission to provide help to Chios. The vague σφίσι βοηθεῖν of the previous cancelation now gives its place to the phrase σφίσι πολιορκουμένοις βοηθῆσαι ἁπάσαις ταῖς ναυσί. The reader now awaits the transfer of all the Peloponnesian fleet to Chios, and is therefore predisposed to the eventuality of a great clash. The addition of the detail ἁπάσαις ταῖς ναυσί is only one of the elements that create the escalation between this and the previous stage of the situation the

122

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

Chians find themselves in. The other elements are: a) In the sentence οἱ δὲ Χῖοι καὶ Πεδάριτος κατὰ τὸν αὐτὸν χρόνον οὐδὲν ἧσσον, καίπερ διαμέλλοντα, τὸν ᾿Aστύοχον πέμποντες ἀγγέλους ἠξίουν σφίσι πολιορκουμένοις βοηθῆσαι ἁπάσαις ταῖς ναυσὶ καὶ μὴ περιιδεῖν τὴν μεγίστην τῶν ἐν Ἰωνίᾳ ξυμμαχίδων πόλεων ἔκ τε θαλάσσης εἰργομένην καὶ κατὰ γῆν λῃστείαις πορθουμένην (40.1) the scheme of litotes οὐδὲν ἧσσον is equivalent to μᾶλλον and marks the Chian efforts to secure Astyochus’ help. Moreover, the σφίσι of the previous cancelation (38.4) recurs in the enriched form σφίσι πολιορκουμένοις. The participle κελεύοντες (ibid) is replaced with the more intense verb ἠξίουν. Furthermore, the ἔπεμπον κελεύοντες of ch. 38.4 is turned into πέμποντες ἀγγέλους ἠξίουν, in which the gravity is transposed to the verb of the request/need ἠξίουν instead of the weaker participle κελεύοντες of the previous stage. In addition, the phrase καὶ μὴ περιιδεῖν τὴν μεγίστην τῶν ἐν Ἰωνίᾳ ξυμμαχίδων πόλεων ἔκ τε θαλάσσης εἰργομένην καὶ κατὰ γῆν λῃστείαις πορθουμένην with the infinitive of diplomatic content περιιδεῖν⁴⁴ and the symmetric homeoteleuton ἔκ τε … πορθουμένην intensifies the diplomatic fever around the naval reinforcement of Chios even more, as it reflects both the rhetorical character and the content of the negotiations much more vividly than the ἔπεμπον κελεύοντες … βοηθεῖν of the previous stage (38.4). Last, the escalation is again strengthened by the timely addition of information, giving the impression of yet one more problem to compound the Chians’ burdens (and thus make the need for a battle even greater). This time, we learn that as soon as the Athenians strengthened their control of the island by building a wall at Delphinium, the city’s numerous and oppressed slaves defected by joining the Athenians, and harmed the inhabitants of the island through their raiding and stealing. What is important here is that Thucydides informs us that the slaves immediately abandoned the Chians (40.2: εὐθύς), as soon as they realized that the Athenians had strengthened their position at Delphinium. This information could therefore have been given in ch. 38.2, when Thucydides first mentioned the walling of Delphinium. We should also recall that in ch. 24.6, for example, Thucydides had informed us of the attempt to stage a coup immediately after the siege of the city began, without waiting to provide this information in a next stage of the plot. He could thus have done the same in ch. 38.2 concerning the defection of the slaves, when he mentioned

 Foster (2010, 47, n. 8) characterizes these phrases as ‘formulaic language’. Moreover, in the case of the Epidamneans, the phrase has a religious content both in Corcyra, with the suppliants in the temple, and in Corinth, after the god’s suggestion (see Foster 2010, 47 n. 9). In the Chian case, the phrase may likewise refer (apart from its rhetorical eloquence) to some kind of moral obligation of Astyochus to help them. See also Grant 1965, on the style of the diplomatic speeches in Thucydides.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

123

the walling of Delphinium, but he purposely chose to conceal this information until ch. 40.2, in order to create an escalation between the two stages of the situation in which the Chians found themselves. The problems of the Chians are not all that Thucydides escalates. There is also a development in Astyochus’ attitude toward the Chians. The τούτου μὲν ἐπέσχεν of the second (31.1) and the ὡς δ’ οὐκ ἐσήκουεν of the third stage (38.4) are also repeated in this stage in the phrases καίπερ διαμέλλοντα of ch. 40.1 and the καίπερ οὐ διανοούμενος of ch. 40.3. Despite his unwillingness, Astyochus decides to help the Chians, under pressure from the allies: ὥρμητο ἐς τὸ βοηθεῖν (40.3).⁴⁵ This is the first time that a mission to assist the Chians is planned. However, from ch. 41.1 onwards, as we saw, the mission – and hence a potential sizable clash – is canceled again by the phrase ἀφεὶς τὸ ἐς τὴν Χίον ἔπλει ἐς τὴν Καῦνον (which again echoes the τούτου μὲν ἐπέσχεν of the first cancelation (31.1) and the ὡς δ’ οὐκ ἐσήκουεν of the second cancelation (38.4)). As in the previous stage, apart from the cancelation concerning Chios, we have a second narrative delay of the resolution, this time in the uncertain situation after the battle at Syme: in ch. 43.1 we learn that the Athenians, as soon as they hear of their defeat, sail to Syme with all their forces, but they do not provoke the forces of the enemy at Cnidus nor are they provoked by them (43.1: ναυσὶ πάσαις … οὐχ ὁρμήσαντες, οὐδ’ ἐκεῖνοι ἐπ’ ἐκείνους … ἀπέπλευσαν ἐς τὴν Σάμον). The detail πάσαις increases the possibilities of a significant showdown, which, however, is again avoided. As Hornblower observes, these are “two emphatic pieces of presentation by negation”.⁴⁶ Furthermore, the Peloponnesians’ reluctance to confront the Athenians (οὐδ’ ἐκεῖνοι ἐπ’ ἐκείνους) is a narrative seed, which, along with ch. 31– 32 and ch. 36 of the two previous stages, will lead to the outburst of the Peloponnesian troops. Fifth stage (ch. 44.4) and the interruption of ch. 45 – 54. After the naval battle at Syme, the Peloponnesians gather their entire fleet at Cnidus and, after numerous negotiations and disagreements with Tissaphernes, transfer most of their ships to Rhodes, where they succeed in detaching the island from the Athenian League. The Athenians, not having been able to prevent these events, position their ships, in addition to Samos, at Chalke and Cos, from where they henceforth intend to conduct the war. However, the Peloponnesians do not respond to any of their challenges, but they draw their ships on land and remain inactive for

 There is no inconsistency between the καίπερ οὐ διανοούμενος and ὥρμητο ἐς τὸ βοηθεῖν, as Andrewes (HCT, 86) inaccurately argued.  COT III, 875.

124

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

eighty days. The interval of eighty days is yet one more narrative delay along the route of the plot to its ultimate goal. Once again, we observe a lingering situation. In addition, the extensive flashback of ch. 45 – 54 which immediately follows intensifies the sense of the postponement of the goal even further. The long temporal space of the two and a half months (erzählte Zeit) may be compacted in the phrase ἡσύχαζον ἡμέρας ὀγδοήκοντα, but it is reflected by the length (Erzählzeit) of the flashback of ch. 45 – 54. Such a sizable digression from the rectilinear narrative represents the delay of the eighty days. After reading the flashback, the reader has the impression that a very long period has indeed intervened since the two fleets almost collided. For this reason, one cannot accept Holzapfel’s view that Thucydides should move this information to somewhere before ch. 39 because the digression refers to events that happened before that chapter.⁴⁷ Thucydides purposely places the flashback at this point in the narrative, in order to increase our suspense through this extensive retarding interruption. Although many objections have been expressed to the role and significance of this flashback,⁴⁸ the fact that its two first chapters (45 – 46) are dedicated to the problems of the Peloponnesian fleet and Tissaphernes’ role makes it clear that Thucydides is using this digression to explain the Spartans’ unwillingness

 Holzapfel 1893.  Holzapfel 1893, 456 – 457; Wilamowitz 1908, 588 – 596; Kunle 1909, 12– 13; HCT V, 94. Cf. Fellner 1880, 11. The latter (1880, 23 – 24) proposed that there is an inconsistency between ch. 44 and ch. 46, because, in his opinion, in ch. 44 Thucydides attributes the Spartans’ inactivity of eighty days to their intention to stop being financially dependent on Persia and to find resources in Rhodes, while in ch. 46 he attributes the inactivity to Tissaphernes’ unwillingness to allow them to fight a naval battle. There is absolutely no discrepancy. In ch. 44 Thucydides is not explaining the Spartans’ abstention from military skirmishes but why they aimed at the revolt of Rhodes. Wilamowitz (1908, 589), for his part, asserts that Thucydides wrote ch. 46 without yet knowing the content of the treaties of ch. 18 and ch. 37. His argument is that Tissaphernes could have responded to Alcibiades’ warning (that the Spartans did not intend to offer all the Greek cities to Persia) by pointing to the terms of the treaties that attested Persia’s sovereign rights over the Greek cities of Asia. However, the existence of these terms was of no significance. The fact that one treaty followed another reveals how fluid the situation was and how easily the one or the other side could question the terms. Thucydides did not ignore the treaties, but wanted to underline that Alcibiades was warning Tissaphernes of the Spartans’ upcoming disparagement of the terms, which actually did happen in Lichas’ case and after the end of the war (see HCT V, 102). Besides, this is not the first time Thucydides includes diplomatic documents in order to show how lame they are: In the largest part of Book V, he arranges his narration so as to prove that the conclusion of diplomatic agreements meant nothing unless the conditions favored their adherence (Connor 1984, 141– 157).

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

125

to fight.⁴⁹ More specifically, ch. 46 unfolds in a ring composition: It begins with Alcibiades’ advice to Tissaphernes not to hasten to finish the war – i. e. by means of a decisive naval battle – and not to give the Spartans the Phoenician fleet of the King (46.1). The chapter ends with Tissaphernes’ decision to follow Alcibiades’ advice: He did not permit a naval battle to take place (καὶ ναυμαχεῖν οὐκ εἴα), and delayed the appearance of the Phoenician ships (46.5: ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰς Φοινίσσας φάσκων ναῦς ἥξειν).⁵⁰ In this chapter, Thucydides explains for the first time why the Peloponnesians have been avoiding facing the Athenians in a decisive naval battle, and their fleet’s eighty-day inactivity is indeed a very convenient opportunity for Thucydides to mention the reasons for this general unwillingness to wage a final battle. Even later in the digression, when the central subject is the political effects of Alcibiades’ influence on the Athenians, some new information sheds light for the first time on Astyochus’ attitude in all the previous cases when he had been unwilling to help the Chians. In the episode on Phrynichus’ betrayal, we learn that the Peloponnesian troops believed that Astyochus was bribed by Tissaphernes and this is why he did not oppose either the issue of the soldiers’ salaries, or any other thing.⁵¹ One of these “other things” (περὶ τῶν ἄλλων), which are vaguely⁵² referred to here as those matters concerning which Astyochus followed Tissaphernes’ will, is the fact that he did not pursue a decisive naval battle against the Athenians. This information has not yet been offered,

 See also Bodin’s (1912, 31) valid argumentation and that of Erbse (1989, 36 – 38).  Andrewes believes that the passage refers to ch. 30.2 and ch. 38.5. Hornblower (COT III, 891) rightly notes that the passage serves not only retrospectively but also as a prolepsis for following passages (60.3 and 78). For the retrospective function of this passage, one should also add ch. 43.1.  8.50.3. Which seems not to be true. Cf. Westlake 1956, 102 ff. Astyochus’ refusal to clash with the enemy was a correct strategic choice. There is no reason to accept Fabrizio’s (1946, 12– 13) opinion that the γίγνεται … ἀνθήπτετο is Thucydides’ addition when he also wrote ch. 83.3, which ostensibly comes from a different source. The way in which Thucydides connects the two passages in this particular narrative thread suggests that he was aware of the information that he cites right from the start and that he had an overall view of the narrative plan a priori – not that he was constantly returning to the previous chapters and adding information.  Due to this vagueness, Westlake (1956, 99) deems that Thucydides would have eventually corrected this episode between Phrynichus and Astyochus in order to offer a simpler explanation of the motives of these individuals. Aidonis (1996, 90) also argues that, had Thucydides had the opportunity, he would have analyzed Tissaphernes’ motives at a deeper level, an opinion reflected also in Willamowitz’s assertions. Nevertheless, as Aidonis (1996, 89) himself argues, Thucydides’ Hellenocentrism may also suggest that Thucydides, even if he had revised his work, would not have been interested in learning more about Tissaphernes and the Persian king.

126

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

but at the ninth and eleventh stage the narrator will reveal that the reason why Astyochus was so hated by the troops was because he did want to fight. The delayed information serves the culmination and does not mean that Thucydides changes informants, as Holzapfel believed.⁵³ Ch. 45 – 46 explain not only this particular cancelation but also all the previous ones and are therefore to be considered as a recapitulation of all the previous reversals from ch. 25 up to this point.⁵⁴ Scardino observes that, as digressions, such recapitulative flashbacks are often used as a means of retardation and to increase the suspense.⁵⁵ Similarly, the recapitulative digression of ch. 45 – 54 is intended to intensify the delay as well as the reader’s agony. Sixth stage (ch. 55.1– 56.1). Immediately after the analepsis of ch. 45 – 54 comes another cancelation. The Athenian admirals Leon and Diomedon, who have recently arrived in Ionia, attempt to attack the coasts of Rhodes, but the Peloponnesian ships have withdrawn inland.⁵⁶ This is the first cancelation (55.1). Another retarding event follows in the next paragraph, when Pedaritus sends the Spartan Xenophantidas to Rhodes, to ask again for naval support in rescuing the island. The Peloponnesians consider sending help to Chios, but at the same time Pedaritus attacks the Athenians and dies in battle. As a result, Athenian pressure upon the Chians becomes even more intense (55.2– 56.1).⁵⁷ As for the first cancelation of ch. 55.1, this is one more narrative seed, yet another reason as to why the troops will be angry with Astyochus. Along with the previous related passages (31.2; 38.4; 41.1; 43.1; 44.4), it will bear fruit in ch. 78 and ch. 80 – 84. In this stage, the situation of the Chians is escalated by the following elements: a) While in the previous cases the Chian envoys are anonymous, we now learn the name of the messenger, the Spartan Xenophantidas;⁵⁸ b) The τειχιζομένου τοῦ Δελφινίου καὶ ἀτελοῦς ὄντος of ch. 40.3 is escalated in ch. 55.2 by the sentence τὸ τεῖχος τῶν ᾿Aθηναίων ἐπιτετέλεσται;⁵⁹ c) The request of ch. 40.1 that the Peloponnesians should send their whole navy (ἁπάσαις ταῖς ναυσί) is now not merely a request but the only solution for the salvation of the island: εἰ μὴ βοηθήσουσι πάσαις ταῖς ναυσίν, ἀπολεῖται τὰ ἐν Χίῳ πράγματα  Holzapfel 1893, 438 – 439. On delayed information in Book VIII, see also Connor 1984, 213.  On the explanatory role of the digression concerning the reasons why Astyochus avoided a naval battle in ch. 29 – 44, especially in the vacillating situation of ch. 38.5, see Kunle 1909, 12.  Scardino 2007, 41.  The narration continues exactly from the point where it had stopped in ch. 44. See HCT V, 132.  It is curious that Mewes considered this battle description as deserving of merit.  Although in Thucydides ambassadors are mostly anonymous, as they also are in Homer. See Debnar 2013, 272 n. 5.  Rood 1998, 261.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

127

(55.2); d) After Pedaritus’ death, the situation of the Chians has undoubtedly deteriorated. The οὐδὲν ἧσσον of ch. 40.1 gives its place to the ἔτι μᾶλλον ἢ πρότερον of 56.1. e) For the first time, there is a problem of starvation (56.1). f) Moreover, at this stage we have the first shift in the Peloponnesians’ attitude. In relation to the τούτου μὲν ἐπέσχεν (31.1), ὡς δ’ οὐκ ἐσήκουεν (38.4), καίπερ διαμέλλοντα (40.1), καίπερ οὐ διανοούμενος (40.3) and after the first step of the ὥρμητο ἐς τὸ βοηθεῖν (40.3), here in the sentence οἱ δὲ διενοοῦντο βοηθήσειν Thucydides prepares the reader for the huge mission to Chios. This takes things one step further toward the decisive countdown, although it is, however, again canceled. Seventh stage (ch. 57– 60). In paragraphs 56.2– 4 Thucydides records the fruitless meeting of the Athenians with Alcibiades and Tissaphernes. After this, the seventh stage of the narrative retardation begins to develop (57– 60): Tissaphernes concludes a third treaty with the Peloponnesians, in order to improve his relationship with them, fearing that the troops, if they are lacking in the necessary supplies, will fight the Athenians and lose or, more probably, that they will plunder his district.⁶⁰ The terms that primarily differentiate this treaty from the two previous ones (58.5 – 7) indeed concern the funds for the military and naval expenses. After presenting the text of the treaty, Thucydides returns to the situation on Chios. Although at this point Eretrian envoys have arrived in Rhodes to seek Peloponnesian help in extracting Euboea from the Athenians, the Peloponnesians are concerned with the besieged Chios. They thus depart from Rhodes for Chios with all their ships, but at Triopion they run into the Athenian ships. Neither of the two sides initiates a naval battle. On the contrary, the Athenians return to Samos, whilst the Peloponnesians go back to Miletus. However, the latter, as Thucydides writes, have already realized that helping Chios without waging a naval battle is impossible. With this comment, Thucydides completes his account of the twentieth year of the war.⁶¹ As in the second and the third stages, in this one too the cancelation is preceded by a description of the situation on the Peloponnesian side. Hence,

 The repetition of the conjunction οὖν indeed betrays a hasty formulation (Wilamowitz 1908, 595) despite Hornblower’s (COT III, 926) objections. The parenthesis does not lead to a significant aberration from the main subject, making a repetition in such a short space inelegant.  The end of a year fits nicely with the end of a phase of the climax. On scholarly objections that the division into summers and winters in Book VIII does not fit harmoniously with the narration and that, if Thucydides had revised his work, he would have smoothed out the inconsistency between narrative and chronological arrangement, see Mewes 1868, 19; Connor 1984, 215. For a positive approach (particularly to ch. 39.1, ch. 44.4, ch. 58.1 and ch. 60.3), see Wenskus’ (1986, 245 – 247) comments.

128

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

ch. 57– 59 are linked to ch. 31.1 (τὰ περὶ τὴν ξυμμαχίαν βελτίω ὄντα) and ch. 36 – 37. The foreshadowing of ch. 36, whereby Tissaphernes would reduce the salaries of the troops, is fulfilled here for the first time. Once again, ch. 57– 59 constitute the prism through which Thucydides wants the reader to perceive the lost opportunity for a decisive naval battle in ch. 60.3. Once again, the same antithesis is created, i. e. that, while the Peloponnesian navy was still in a good condition, its commanders did not take advantage of this fact. This again constitutes a narrative seed, which will trigger the troops’ anger against Astyochus and Tissaphernes in the ninth and tenth stages. In this case, the escalation leading to the final naval battle does not concern the difficult position of the Chians, but emerges in several other ways: a) Through focalization on Tissaphernes’ thoughts; for the first time the narrator informs the reader that the delay in paying the soldiers could lead to a sizable battle at sea; b) Through comparison with the Peloponnesians’ attitude in the second stage. At that point, we had seen the Lesbians asking Astyochus to help them, and that in the dilemma over whether to help Lesbos or Chios Astyochus preferred the first option. This is a typical example of how far from a mission to Chios – and therefore from a decisive naval battle – we were at that point. Here, a similar incident is recorded: the Eretrians send envoys to the Peloponnesians asking for reinforcements for their anti-Athenian effort in Euboia. However, the Peloponnesians πρὸς τὴν τῆς Χίου κακουμένης βοήθειαν μᾶλλον ὥρμηντο (60.2). Through this contrast between the two similar cases the narrator aims to escalate the Peloponnesians’ willingness to transfer their fleet to Chios. The change in the attitude of the Peloponnesians from the situation with Lesbos up to this point marks a new phase in the escalated route to the resolution of the narrative. Up till now, this route had passed through ch. 31.1, 38.4, 40.1, 40.3, 55.2 and the present 60.2. c) Besides, this is the first time that the Peloponnesians have attempted to satisfy the Chian request for a massive transfer of the fleet to their island. In this sense, ch. 40.1 (βοηθῆσαι ἁπάσαις ταῖς ναυσὶ) and 55.2 (εἰ μὴ βοηθήσουσι πάσαις ταῖς ναυσίν) are escalated in 60.2 (ἄραντες πάσαις ταῖς ναυσὶν ἐκ τῆς Ῥόδου ἔπλεον). Aside from all the above, the most important passage, which not only escalates the narrative route but also constitutes its first culmination, is Thucydides’ comment at the year end: καὶ ἑώρων οὐκέτι ἄνευ ναυμαχίας οἶόν τε εἶναι ἐς τὴν Χίον βοηθῆσαι. καὶ ὁ χειμὼν ἐτελεύτα οὗτος, καὶ εἰκοστὸν ἔτος τῷ πολέμῳ ἐτελεύτα τῷδε ὃν Θουκυδίδης ξυνέγραψεν. Here, the meaning and significance of the ἐς τὴν Χίον βοηθῆσαι are revealed to the reader for the first time through the thoughts of the Peloponnesians. Thus far, Thucydides has each time been adding one additional detail, making the reader even more suspicious that behind the help to Chios the eventuality of a decisive naval battle lay hidden.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

129

The reader sees this eventuality now, at the same moment as the Peloponnesians, and not before or after them. We can now understand why Thucydides had given certain details in the previous phases of the escalation: Astyochus’ activity in relation to the cities of Asia Minor and Lesbos in ch. 31.1– 32.2 meant essentially nothing more than the retardation of the countdown with the Athenians. His denial at the second stage in ch. 38.4 was equally an impediment. In ch. 40.1 a first small step had been taken toward making both the Peloponnesians and the reader realize that reinforcing the island would require the whole fleet to be transferred, and not merely a part of it. The same information is given also in ch. 55.2. And here, both the meaning of all these stages and the author’s goal in them are finally revealed: saving Chios means a decisive naval battle with the Athenians. This inference is of great significance for our understanding of the overall arrangement of Book VIII. In the first chapter, we saw that Thucydides had composed ch. 1– 24 in such a way that they would constitute an autonomous revolt narrative, with the Chians as protagonists. However, the latter continue being at the foreground of the narrative after ch. 24 as well, up to the point where we are now, i. e. ch. 60.3.⁶² One could thus suppose that we do not need to isolate ch. 1– 24 from the rest, but we should rather add to them ch. 25 – 60.3 and consider the total of ch. 1– 60.3 as a single narrative line, with its subject being the Chians’ fortunes in the Ionian war.⁶³ Such a conclusion is, however, refuted by the text itself. The two main points in favor of the claim that Thucydides separates the unit of ch. 1– 24 from that of ch. 25 – 60.3 are the two comments which lie at the endings of the two units, in ch. 24.4– 5 and ch. 60.3. According to the first comment, the Chians were initially convinced that they would have more chances against the Athenians if they had the support of many allies. We have already presented the techniques through which Thucydides organized his narrative in order to punctuate the futility of the Chians’ hopes. In his comment at ch. 24.4– 5, the Chians are presented as the ones who have been deceived.⁶⁴ However, the picture of the naive Chians ceases to exist in the narrative already from their very first appearance after ch. 24: In ch. 32.3 Astyochus, in order to convince them to give him ships in support of Lesbos’ efforts to revolt, argues that their purpose should always be to annex allies (32.3: ἢ γὰρ ξυμμάχους πλεί-

 Cf. Hornblower (COT III, 835), especially on ch. 29 – 44.  As Mewes (1868, 20) mistakenly believed. Mewes argued that all the chapters where Thucydides mentions Chios – from the beginning up to the end of Book VIII – constitute a united narrative thread. However, this is not the case.  Patwell 1978, 130 ff.

130

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

ους σφᾶς ἕξειν, ἢ τοὺς ᾿Aθηναίους, ἤν τι σφάλλωνται, κακώσειν). What argument would be more convincing than this in the minds of the Chians, who had followed such a tactic throughout the first unit up to ch. 24?⁶⁵ Nevertheless, they are not convinced by Astyochus (32.3: οἱ δ’ οὐκ ἐσήκουον). “The contrast with their earlier eagerness is in itself striking and eloquent”.⁶⁶ Although Andrewes could not understand “what Thucydides intended” in this chapter,⁶⁷ in that well-aimed and brief episode the historian had marked a new phase in the plot, a phase in which the Chians move from the stage of deceit and blindness to that of realization. Equally characteristic is the example of ch. 45.4, where Alcibiades inveighs against the Chians because, in his opinion, they burden the Peloponnesian League despite their incomparable wealth. Alcibiades, the person whom they had trusted when they joined the Peloponnesian League, so overtly and not even on a rhetorical or diplomatic pretext, proves that it was wrong to have trusted him. This is yet one more example, alongside that of Astyochus, in which the masks are off. In both cases, the Chians are presented as having realized or as realizing how wrong it was to trust both the attraction of allies and ruthless opportunists like Alcibiades.⁶⁸ The transition from the deceived Chians to the knowing Chians resembles the transitions in tragedy, from the point when the hero is blinded by his ignorance to the phase when he eventually realizes what is happening to him but it is already too late.⁶⁹ Through this tragic transition, Thucydides stresses the beginning of a new narrative line from ch. 25 onwards, with its goal being a decisive naval battle. Apart from this, the comment in ch. 60.3 in itself strongly indicates that ch. 25 – 60.3 belong to the narrative line of ch. 25 – 107. As shown by the analysis hitherto, the whole narrative route from ch. 31.1 up to ch. 60.3 has been a gradual revelation, both to the Peloponnesians as well as to the reader, that helping Chios equates to waging a decisive naval battle. Had Thucydides depicted the gradual worsening of the situation of the Chians in order to stress their misfor See 8.22.1; 24.5.  Rood 1998, 260 n. 38. Cf. the ὡs δ’ οὐκ ἐσήκουεν (8.38.4).  HCT V, 75.  Patwell (1978, 139) writes: “The humor in Alcibiades’ second speech … shows Alcibiades’ contempt for his former friends and allies.”  On the technique of recognition as a common element in Homer, the tragedians, and Thucydides, see Hornblower 2009, 68 – 69. For the bibliography on Thucydides’ relationship with tragedy, see Rusten 2009b, 14. Cf. Shanske 2009, 201 n. 25, who considers the influence of Heraclitus’ theory as a common element in the Thucydidean work and tragedy. Cf. Rutherford 2007, 504– 513 with further bibliography. Cf. Macleod 1983b. On Book VIII and Sophocles’ Philoctetes, see Greenwood 2011, 143 – 180.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

131

tune, in the comment of ch. 60.3 he would logically have referred to them, as he did in ch. 24.4– 5. However, the culmination here does not concern their problems but the question of when the two fleets will confront each other, a theme which governs the episode until its final resolution in the naval battle of Cynos Sema. Therefore, not only does the escalation of the Chians’ misfortunes not belong in a common unit with ch. 1– 24, but along with the following chapters up to ch. 107 it constitutes the episode of ch. 25 – 107. In ch. 60.3 we find the first culmination of the route to the much-desired naval battle. At this point, the Chians hand over the baton to the Peloponnesian troops. Until now, they were the main factor pushing the plot to its resolution, the clash of the two fleets. Ch. 60.3 is a turning point: The Peloponnesians eventually realize that they have to face the Athenians.⁷⁰ From now on, the factor that is constantly pushing for the waging of a pivotal naval battle is the Peloponnesian troops. If the Chians had insisted on such a thing because they were being besieged by the Athenians, then the soldiers and ship crews have their own reasons for it, namely their lack of supplies, which compels them to seek a definitive solution to their problem, i. e. again, a final fight.⁷¹ From ch. 61 onwards, Thucydides will escalate the sailors’ desire to fight by using exactly the same techniques that he used for the Chians. For all these reasons, one may justifiably conclude that in ch. 31.1– 60.3 Thucydides is not interested in making the reader feel sympathy for the Chians. Besides, he had already portrayed their requiem in the first episode of ch. 1– 24. We find that hidden in the narrative that escalates their discomfort is the eventuality of a clash between the two fleets, which is also the main narrative goal. In ch. 60.3 this truth is for the first time revealed to the reader. Eighth stage (ch. 61.1– 63.2) and the analeptic interruption of ch. 63.3 – 77. At the beginning of the following summer, the Chians and their new leader, the Spartan Leon, wage a naval battle against the Athenians without being defeated. They fight with thirty-six ships against thirty-two Athenian triremes. After the battle, the Peloponnesians succeed in detaching two cities along the Hellespont, Abydus and Lampsacus, from the Athenians. The Athenians reacted by sending Strombichides from Chios to the Hellespont with twentyfour ships. Yet, the Athenian general managed to regain only Lampsacus. Moreover, the absence of twenty-four ships from Chios temporarily weakened Athenian control over the area: aside from the fact that the Chians were relieved and started to regain control over their territorial waters, Astyochus, taking advant-

 As, simultaneously, does the reader.  Cf. the Athenians in Sicily (7.8 ff.; 29 ff.; 40.3 – 4; 60.1– 2).

132

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

age of the fact that a part of the Athenian fleet is engaged in the Hellespont, attempts an attack with the whole of his fleet against the Athenians at Samos. However, the clash is again canceled, because the Athenians are currently facing political turmoil and thus avoid responding to the challenges posed by the Peloponnesian fleet, which returns empty-handed to Miletus (61.1– 63.2). At this stage, we can see yet one more escalation of the situation at Chios, which is stressed by the following elements: a) With the introduction of a new development, namely the naval battle between the Chians and the Athenians. b) The delayed information in ch. 61.2 on the administration of the island by Leon through the following short analepsis: “as it happened, while Astyochus was still at Rhodes, they had received from Miletus, as commander after the death of Pedaritos, Leon, a Spartiate, who had accompanied Antisthenes as a marine, as well as twelve ships which happened to be guarding Miletus …”. As with the information on the internal political turmoil at Chios and the defection of its slaves in ch. 40.2, Thucydides likewise offers this information belatedly, in order to create an escalation through the addition of one more piece of new information. According to the historian, Leon was sent to the island after Pedaritus’ death. The information could therefore have been given either in ch. 55.3 or in ch. 60, when he again mentioned Chios. Erbse correctly answers Andrewes’ complaints about the delayed information by stating that this is the most appropriate point for Thucydides to mention the ships that accompany Leon, as now they have an active role in the plot of the naval battle against the Athenians.⁷² c) The Peloponnesians now become more aggressive. During the previous stage, as we saw, they sailed from Rhodes to Chios and, when they realized that they would have to confront the Athenians on their route to the island, returned to Miletus. Now, they attack the Athenians at Samos of their own volition. Even if their willingness is due to the fact that Strombichides’ twenty-four ships are absent,⁷³ it is clearly contrasted with their previous reluctance. The sentence ξυμπάσαις ἤδη ἐπίπλουν ποιεῖται ἐπὶ τὴν Σάμον escalates ch. 31.1 (τούτου μὲν ἐπέσχεν), ch. 38.4 (ὡς δ’ οὐκ ἐσήκουεν), ch. 40.1 (καίπερ διαμέλλοντα), ch. 40.3 (καίπερ οὐ διανοούμενος), ch. 55.2 (οἱ δὲ διενοοῦντο βοηθήσειν), ch. 60.2 (πρὸς τὴν τῆς Χίου κακουμένης βοήθειαν μᾶλλον ὥρμηντο) and ch. 60.3 (καὶ ἑώρων … ἐς τὴν Χίον βοηθῆσαι). Again, however, there is a cancelation of the clash, this time because of the political turmoil at Samos (63.2: καὶ ὡς αὐτῷ διὰ τὸ ἀλλήλοις ὑπόπτως ἔχειν οὐκ ἀντανήγοντο, ἀπέπλευσε πάλιν ἐς τὴν Μίλητον). This cancelation is followed by

 Erbse 1989, 15. Cf. the delayed presentation of individuals in Chapter 1, pp. 37– 39.  Holzapfel 1893, 445 – 446.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

133

the second largest analepsis of Book VIII in ch. 63.3 – 77. The analepsis begins with the phrase ὑπὸ γὰρ τοῦτον τὸν χρόνον καὶ ἔτι πρότερον, whose conjunction γάρ shows that the whole analepsis serves as the explanation of the eighth cancelation of the decisive sea-battle,⁷⁴ as the γάρ explains the διὰ τὸ ἀλλήλοις ὑπόπτως ἔχειν of ch. 63.2. Now, if we were to compare the two analepses to each other, that of ch. 45 – 54 and the present of ch. 63.3 – 77, then we would observe certain similarities that illuminate their narrative role in the arrangement of ch. 25 – 107. Besides the observation already made that they both begin in a very similar way (45.1: ἐν δὲ τούτῳ καὶ ἔτι πρότερον//63.3: ὑπὸ γὰρ τοῦτον τὸν χρόνον καὶ ἔτι πρότερον), we could add the following:⁷⁵ a) They are both located immediately after the attack on the base of one enemy by the other. Ch. 45 starts when the Peloponnesian fleet was transferred to Rhodes. The Athenians are constantly challenging the Peloponnesians, but the latter do not react. Similarly, Samos is the permanent base of the Athenian fleet, which the Peloponnesians attack. b) Both analepses function as explanations and justifications of the unwillingness of those who are attacked to respond to the hostile challenges. The first part of the analepsis of ch. 45 – 54, i. e. ch. 45 – 46.5, developing, as we saw, in a ring composition with its central theme being why the heads of the Peloponnesian fleet were avoiding an open battle, serves as an explicit explanation of this cancelation and, retrospectively (due to the καὶ ἔτι πρότερον),⁷⁶ of the other cancelations up to this point. Similarly, the presence of the γάρ is cogent proof that the analepsis of ch. 63.3 – 77, independently of its inner organization, has an explanatory role, this time for the eighth cancelation. c) Most importantly, both analepses, long-drawn as they are, intensify the sense of the cancelation. Rengakos says of similar cases in Homer: “…the Homeric digressions punctuate moments of highest dramatic tension (the more extensive the digression, the more crucial situation)”.⁷⁷ The same could be said for these two long digressions in Book VIII. Their length reflects the criticalness of the vacillating situation. Both are located at points where the tension culminates and, at the same time, they serve this culmination; when the one side attacks the other’s base with all its forces; when the prospect of a decisive naval battle is closer than ever.

 Rood 1998, 275.  Bodin 1912, 27; Connor 1984, 221; Rood 1998, 263 n. 42; Hornblower (COT III, 884), who takes the similarity between the two analepses as a proof that they are deliberate.  On this phrase, Rawlings (1981, 180 n. 8) writes: “The words … reveal his method of pulling together chronologically separated events in order to create narrative unity.”  Rengakos 1999, 311 n. 19.

134

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

Ninth stage (ch. 78 – 79.6).⁷⁸ After Astyochus’ fruitless attempt to confront the Athenians at Samos, the troops in Miletus become indignant both with him as well as with Tissaphernes. In the soldiers’ minds, both men had contributed to the attrition of the fleet by hindering a naval battle against the Athenians. Under pressure from the soldiers, then, Astyochus decides, along with the other officials, to take advantage of the political instability within the Athenian circles on Samos and to take them by surprise, aiming at a clash. They therefore transfer the Peloponnesian fleet, 112 ships, to Mycale, at the entrance to Samos, and bide their time. At this point, the Athenians are also in Mycale, but with a much smaller fleet of 82 triremes, which is why they do not risk waging a naval battle. They flee instead to Samos, where they await the imminent arrival of Strombichides’ reinforcements from the Hellespont. The next day, just as the Peloponnesians are preparing to attack, Strombichides suddenly arrives and they are again forced to retreat to Miletus. The Athenians, now reinforced by Strombichides and with a fleet of 108 ships, are moving to Miletus and wish to fight the Peloponnesians with their full forces. However, since the enemy does not dare to meet them, the Athenians withdraw once again to Samos (78 – 79.6). At this stage, the Peloponnesians completely replace the Chians as the prime movers for a decisive sea battle, and the Chians withdraw to the background. In ch. 78, all the narrative seeds from the previous stages of the escalation are brought into play. These seeds, some more intense and others milder, were to constitute the reason as to why the men of the Peloponnesian fleet will from henceforth push for a naval battle to be waged. Both the content and expression of ch. 78 oblige the reader to recall all the previous narrative seeds. The highpoint of the need for a decisive naval battle is again achieved through delayed information and the accumulation (polysyndeton) of the reasons for the discontent of the troops: a) As for the delayed information, the narrative gives the impression that this is the first time that the troops are reacting to Astyochus’ and Tissaphernes’ unwillingness to confront the Athenians. However, the reasons for the dissatisfaction of the naval forces have already preexisted, for several chapters now. Tissaphernes has already stopped paying the regular wages, while Astyochus has missed plenty of opportunities to confront the Athenians. For these reasons, their troops must have reacted during previous stages of this climax too, reactions that Thucydides purposely passed over in silence.

 On the similarities between this cancelation and that of ch. 63, see COT III, 983. These affinities were considered by Holzapfel as proof that ch. 63 and ch. 79 refer to the same event. His theory has been rejected by all later scholars. The most felicitous judgment on this matter belongs to Hornblower (COT III, 983): “The once-popular idea that 63.2 and 79.2 are narrative doublets … arises from imperfect appreciation of the technique”.

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

135

The rage of the troops therefore already exists as a historical fact. Only in the narration does it constitute a new element. Besides, we have already been informed since ch. 50.3 of the negative atmosphere that has grown around Astyochus, against whom rumors were being spread that he was accepting bribes from Tissaphernes. Thucydides presents here, however, the pre-existing rage of the troops as an ostensibly new element of the plot, in order to escalate the tension even more. The narrator takes advantage of the opportunity that presents itself now, when the anger of the masses has reached its peak and serves as a narrative impulse to the final resolution.⁷⁹ b) Once again, the reasons as to why the state of the troops deteriorates are given through a plethora of causative participles and clauses. c) The most significant culminating element of this stage in relation to all the previous ones is the revelation that the desideratum is not a clash in order for the tension among the troops merely to be defused but a naval battle of definitive and irreversible consequences for both sides. As for the Peloponnesians, the accumulation of the polysyndeton and causative elements clarifies for the reader that, through the much desired naval battle, the troops aim to escape from the impasse which they are in. Significantly, we again have the infinitive διαναυμαχεῖν, which means “fight a naval battle until the end, with all my forces”. Τhe reader now realizes for the first time that from ch. 25 up to this point the desideratum had not been a coincidental fight such as those of the first unit. On the contrary, since the Athenians’ consultation after the battle at Miletus, the desideratum was, is, and will be – until the collision at Cynos Sema – a naval battle in which the two fleets will line up against each other in their entirety and, after these preparations, a battle will be fought at sea that could even decide the final outcome of the war. The Athenians, for their part, choose to withdraw while they are numerically inferior, as they also believe that such a battle could endanger the fate of the whole city (79.2: οὐ νομίσαντες τῷ πλήθει διακινδυνεῦσαι⁸⁰ περὶ τοῦ παντὸς ἱκανοὶ εἶναι). The prepositional phrase περὶ τοῦ παντός near the prefix διά- of διακινδυνεῦσαι expresses how important  I agree with Aidonis (1996, 91, 97) that the criticism against Tissaphernes does not reflect – at least not explicitly – Thucydides’ own views but the opinion of the troops. Aidonis’ article (1996, 89 – 103) is very instructive on Tissaphernes’ policy during the period examined here. Cf. Hyland (2004, 71– 96), who sees the portrait of Tissaphernes as a highly deliberate presentation. However, his view that Thucydides approaches the satrap’s activity from the Athenians’ point of view, although correct concerning specific passages of the book, cannot generally stand, given that in the majority of the chapters on Tissaphernes the main point of interest is the condition of the Peloponnesian fleet.  On the significance of the διά- compounds for the coherence of Book VIII, see Patwell 1978, 280 ff; Rood 1998.

136

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

such a sea battle could be for the Athenians. Moreover, as soon as they have the reinforcements from Strombichides, they desire to put an end to this situation; they do not merely wish to fight, but to fight a definite naval battle (79.6: βουλόμενοι διαναυμαχῆσαι). The triple repetition of the διά- compound verbs suggests that, for the first time since ch. 25, the reader is very close to the final resolution of the narration. Tenth stage (ch. 80). After the missed opportunity at Miletus, the Peloponnesians realize that they should search for a more reliable source of their supplies than Tissaphernes. They therefore dispatch forty ships from Miletus to the Hellespont under the command of the Spartan Clearchus, in order to negotiate with Pharnabazus, who was willing, according to Thucydides, to provision the Peloponnesian fleet. Apart from this, another good reason to send forces to the Hellespont was that one of the most important cities of the area, Byzantium, had already sent envoys to Miletus asking for the Spartans’ help in their efforts to defect from Athens. The forty Peloponnesian ships sail to the Hellespont but they encounter bad weather and are forced to proceed to Delos, and from there return to Miletus with their leader Clearchus. Only ten ships under the command of the Megarian Helixos were able to reach the Hellespont and succeed in detaching Byzantium from the Athenian alliance. In the meantime, the Athenians are informed of these developments and also dispatch some of their ships to the region, in order to avert a potential chain of revolts. Moreover, a small naval battle is waged (80). In this short chapter there is no cancelation, but the necessity of a decisive naval battle continues toward its climax. Thucydides again uses the accumulation of causative elements in order to stress the increasing impasse that the Peloponnesian fleet is in: A causative clause ἐπειδή … ἀντανήγοντο lies next to two causative participles, ἀπορήσαντες and διδόντος. Furthermore, this stage, as does the previous one, fulfills the foreshadowing of ch. 36 in εὐπόρως ἔτι εἶχον … μισθός ἐδίδοτο ἀρκούντως that later on the troops’ salaries would no longer be enough. The information ἀπορήσαντες ὁπόθεν τοσαύταις ναυσὶ χρήματα ἕξουσιν, ἄλλως τε καὶ Τισσαφέρνους κακῶς διδόντος (80.1) thus echoes that hint. The chapter is also closely connected with the last cancelation (79.6), where we had read that the Athenians had attacked Miletus with 108 ships but the Peloponnesians did not dare confront them (οὐδεὶς αὐτοῖς ἀντανήγετο), which is here echoed in the οὐκ ἀξιόμαχοι νομίσαντες εἶναι οὐκ ἀντανήγοντο. Eleventh stage (ch. 83 – 85). The Peloponnesians, as soon as they are informed that Alcibiades had gone over to Samos and is cooperating with the Athenians, grow even more suspicious of Tissaphernes. Besides, after the missed opportunity for a naval battle at Miletus, he himself became even more neglectful in paying the soldiers. The soldiers are now more dissatisfied than ever, and fre-

2 The retardation before the battle of Cynos Sema

137

quently gather and talk not only about the insufficient pay they receive from Tissaphernes, but also about Astyochus’ attitude. In fact, during one incident things almost got out of hand. The Syracusan and Thyrean troops became very worked up and demanded that Astyochus pay them. Astyochus responded in a belligerent manner and raised his cane, threatening the Rhodian Dorieus who was defending his men. The soldiers then had an angry outburst and attacked Astyochus,⁸¹ but the Spartan admiral managed to flee to an altar and thus escape being attacked. There was an equally volatile situation among the Milesians. Indignant, they destroy the fortress of Tissaphernes that was in their territory and drive its guardians away. The Spartan Lichas rebukes them and advises not just them but also all the Greeks to comply with Tissaphernes’ will, until developments are more favorable. In this same period, Mindarus, Astyochus’ successor as admiral, arrives in Miletus and immediately takes control. Astyochus returns to Sparta. Tissaphernes dispatches his envoy along with Astyochus in order to lodge a complaint over the destruction of his fort and to justify himself against all the accusations of the Milesians and Hermocrates, who all also go to Sparta in order to denounce the satrap (83 – 85). In these chapters, the reaction of the troops against their officials, one of the basic elements of the postponement of the naval battle, comes to a head, while at the same time many of the narrative seeds of the previous cancelations are again exploited. The outburst of the masses against Astyochus reminds us of the outburst of the Argives against Thrasylus before the battle of Mantinea. In addition, the reaction of the Milesians against Tissaphernes fulfills the foreshadowing of ch. 36. Waging a decisive naval battle against the Athenians seems now to be the only solution: καὶ εἰ μή τις ἢ διαναυμαχήσει ἢ ἀπαλλάξεται ὅθεν τροφὴν ἕξει, ἀπολείψειν τοὺς ἀνθρώπους τὰς ναῦς (83.3). The soldiers summon οἷάπερ καὶ πρότερον, information that reveals to us that the reactions had already started much earlier – further proof in favor of our argument above, namely that Thucydides had purposely been concealing the rage of the troops in order to reach a culmination here. The escalation is also achieved through the πολλῷ δὴ μᾶλλον ἔτι διεβέβληντο (83.1) and πολλῷ … ἀρρωστότερον (83.2) concerning the dissatisfaction against Tissaphernes. Last, this stage is associated with the two previous ones through the ξυνηνέχθη γὰρ αὐτοῖς κατὰ τὸν ἐπὶ τὴν Μίλητον τῶν ᾿Aθηναίων ἐπίπλουν, ὡς οὐκ ἠθέλησαν ἀνταναγαγόντες ναυμαχῆσαι …

 Falkner (1995, 206 – 221) argues that neither Thucydides nor the troops should blame Astyochus for obstruction.

138

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

Twelfth stage (ch. 99 – 106): The resolution. As with the unit leading to the battle of Mantinea, this unit also begins with an accumulation of causative elements, linked to each other by a polysyndeton, elements that depict the adverse condition of the troops, thus creating the need for a naval battle: ‘Υπὸ δὲ τοὺς αὐτοὺς χρόνους τοῦ θέρους τούτου καὶ οἱ ἐν τῇ Μιλήτῳ Πελοποννήσιοι, … οὕτω δὴ ὁ Μίνδαρος πολλῷ κόσμῳ καὶ ἀπὸ παραγγέλματος αἰφνιδίου … (99). The πολλῷ κόσμῳ καὶ ἀπὸ παραγγέλματος αἰφνιδίου foreshadows that a battle is to follow, as this is the first time that Thucydides so vividly describes the dispatch of the Peloponnesian fleet. A few chapters later, the narrative goal is fulfilled. The two fleets collide in a significant battle. The Athenians win and regain their prestige and confidence. Thucydides’ portrayal of the Athenian fleet will be examined in the following chapter.

Conclusions As we saw, Thucydides is preparing us for the sea battle at Cynos Sema by means of a constant retardation, in order to make us feel “extensive and intense suspense”. This long-scale retardation lies on the basis of two extensive interruptions, plenty of “Beinahe episodes”, and some vacillating situations. This method is not new. A similar result of retardation is also achieved before the battle of Mantinea with analogous “Beinahe episodes”. This interpretation offers an alternative answer to a very significant subject in the scholarship of Book VIII, the two digressions of ch. 45 – 54 and ch. 63 – 77. Although many scholars consider them to be the strongest indicators of the draft-like style of Book VIII, the retardation theory satisfactorily explains the role of the two analepses: Not only should we not see them as signs of incompleteness, but, on the contrary, we should consider them as products of the narrator’s conscious effort to create suspense and tension for the reader. In addition, their positioning at these specific points of the narration is not coincidental but deliberate, as they heighten our puzzlement over the two vacillating situations that are about to culminate. One can reach similar conclusions with regard to the narrative function of the third treaty between Sparta and Persia. Moreover, in the introduction we saw that some scholars have identified inconsistencies between many passages of Book VIII and that one of the greatest scholarly issues is the positioning of certain information. According to many commentators, this information should be transferred elsewhere and, had Thucydides had the time to revise the book, he would have avoided giving this information twice. Nonetheless, what is of particular importance is the way Thucydides connects the one cancelation with the other. As shown, in Book VIII the

Conclusions

139

author tries to create the escalation from cancelation to cancelation mainly by placing certain information at specific points of the narrative. While he could have recorded particular details at previous stages, he delays their presentation, so as to reveal them later on as additional problems that gradually push the plot toward the decisive countdown. Despite the objections of some critics, in Book VIII the information is skillfully positioned at the appropriate spots. In his work S/Z, Roland Barthes summarizes the function of the narration in the following way: Narratives, inter alia, offer us enigmas and questions, and answering them is the sole motive for us to follow a plot up to the end. The pursuit of answers to these questions generated by the plot is nothing but the pursuit of the final resolution. At the end, after retardations, confusion, and misleading elements, comes the definitive solution, when all the riddles are revealed.⁸² Retardation is, however, sometimes a source of red herrings for the readers. It occasionally pulls them away from the goal of the account, while it sometimes gives them the impression that there is not even a goal, that everything is laid out in a disorganized and chaotic manner. Due to the continuous deferments and interruptions, we feel that we will never experience this redemptive accomplishment that Barthes discusses. And this is a frequent observation on works that have the technique of retardation as their basic feature. Regarding the Homeric epics, for example, Reichel and Rengakos’ remarks are illuminating. Reichel warns us that, “the retarding phases of the action involve the risk of developing their own compositional substance, the result being that the listener or the reader is absorbed in them and loses sight of the main goal of action of the general plot.”⁸³ Rengakos adds that the possibilities of such a danger increase in the more extensive retarding interruptions of the narrative route, because “the function of this kind of retardation is more obvious in medium-scale [my italics] narrative segments”.⁸⁴ These thoughts are of particular significance for the interpretation of the two extensive digressions in Book VIII. Needless to say, both arise partly from Thucydides’ difficulty in preserving a strict annalistic order when the data of the account become too numerous and scattered and single events too complex. However, the retardation theory I propose may shed light on one further, unmentioned, function of these digressions. The first leads the reader into a disorienting effort to connect it with its context, while the second creates the false impression that its subject, the internal politics of Athens, deviates from the center of interest of the whole plot. And yet, as shown in this chapter, they

 Barthes 1976, 209.  Reichel 1990, 138.  Rengakos 20102, 35.

140

Chapter 3 The the loss of prestige and recovery II

are also two retarding interruptions that come immediately after two missed opportunities to reach the real purpose of the account, the decisive naval battle. Besides these two individual interruptions, the account of ch. 25 – 107 as a whole is also a long retardation that Thucydides constructs step by step, postponement by postponement, with unprecedented concentration. Nevertheless, this retardation is stretched to such a degree that it justifiably gives the impression that we are dealing with a clumsy and chaotic plot, which is why it could be characterized as a compositional failure: for, although the author focuses admirably on a tactic that he has already been shaped inside his mind, although he also exploits this tactic before the description of the battle at Mantinea; in spite the fact that he executes this method masterfully and meticulously, down to the smallest detail, he has inflated this technique so much that the reader does not easily understand that there is indeed a goal, namely the naval battle of Cynos Sema. Such narrative misfires are frequent in extensive retarding accounts. The huge philological debate on the narrative delay in Shakespeare’s Hamlet comes to mind.⁸⁵ The recurrent cancelation of the narrative goal, i. e. of the protagonist’s plan to avenge the murderer of his father, led Goethe to complain that “eventually, Hamlet almost loses his purpose in his mind”.⁸⁶ Similarly, in the field of modern soap operas, Charlotte Brunsdon comments that “the very simplicity of the use of ‘interruption’ as the major form of narrative delay, extending dramatic action, also works against the construction of a coherent referential time.”⁸⁷ Retardation, wherever it may be overly exploited, creates puzzlement and confusion among the audience. However, this does not mean that those authors using it, including Thucydides, are simply quickly jotting things down.

 See indicatively Eliot 1920b; Conrad 1926; Philips 1980.  Conrad 1926, 680.  Brunsdon 1981, 35.

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema In the previous chapters, we demonstrated how in ch. 25 Thucydides moves from the case of Chios to the eventuality of a sizable naval battle. Of course, in both instances the main subject, the Ionian war, remains the same. In other words, we do not have here two episodes of different plots, as we do, say, with the Mytilene episode and the following one on Plataea in Book III, or with other similar episodes in the first four books. As Dewald explains, from the sixth book onwards, the narrative has a continuous theme. In essence, the transition in ch. 25 merely signifies the shift in interest from the allies to Athens and Sparta. In the first unit, Thucydides used the Chians as a representative example of all the Greeks. The Chians’ false estimation reflects the views of all the tributaries of Athens. Nonetheless, from ch. 25 onwards, Thucydides focuses on the two fleets and on when they will collide. As we saw, by means of the narrative thread of the echoes of Phrynichus’ speech, Thucydides raises the issue of the strategy the Athenians should follow after their crushing defeat in Sicily, while through the second, decelerating, thread of the continuous deferments, he focuses mostly on the state of the Peloponnesian fleet. The transition from the one narrative to the other is demonstrated partly through the battle descriptions. For, while in ch. 1– 24 the author avoids providing a description of many of the battles, the unit of ch. 25 – 107 not only begins with a battle description, that of Miletus, but it also has another one, the sea battle of Cynos Sema, as its narrative goal. In this chapter, then, we will try to answer the question of how much attention Thucydides paid to the beginning and the end of ch. 25 – 107. In the first part, we elaborate on the battle of Miletus, while in its second part we examine the naval battle of Cynos Sema. We will discuss the role these military descriptions play in both the arrangement of Book VIII and the overall plot of the History, and will try to detect typical motifs of the Thucydidean battles in them.¹ The typicality we observed in the revolt nar-

 For the scholarship on the basic features of the Thucydidean battles, see Romilly 1956, 107– 178 on the plan of a leader and its implementation (cf. Hunter 1973); Connor 1985 on certain techniques such as: a) the sudden transition from a vague description to a more vivid one; b) the depiction of the psychological atmosphere in contradistinction with, c) the presentation of visual details; Paul 1987 on the stereotypical structural parts of the Thucydidean battles (exhortation, line up, numbers and losses, generalizations, the goals and feelings of the individuals, meetings of the leaders, trophies). One could also add the departure (Thucydides most of the time informs us of where the two armies go after the battle). I put it in a footnote, because it DOI 10.1515/9783110533071-005

142

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

ratives and in those on the loss of prestige and its recovery is equally present in the battle descriptions as well. By collecting all the relevant passages – longer or shorter – and comparing them, we will be able to discern their constantly recurring narrative tools, the presence of which in the two descriptions under examination is yet one more argument in favor of the theory that in Book VIII Thucydides is following a well-crafted plan.

1 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus In the summer of 412 BC, the Athenians landed in Asia Minor and encamped at Miletus, where they fought against the citizens of the city. At their disposal were 1,000 hoplites and they were also accompanied by 1,500 Argive hoplites and 1,000 from the other allies. In the opposite camp, 800 Milesian hoplites were supported by the Peloponnesians and the barbarian forces under the command of Tissaphernes. The Athenians and their allies were the victors. Although the arrogant Argives were defeated by the Milesians, the Athenians prevailed over their own opponents, with the result that the Milesians, although they were victorious, saw their comrades being defeated and hence withdrew inside the walls of their city (8.25). i. The Argives’ underestimation of the enemy. Despite its conciseness, this short battle description comprises many Thucydidean features, one of which is the emphasis on the character of the protagonists. The historian often tries to penetrate the strategic plans of a leader,² while in many other cases the characterizations and the insight given are of the masses.³ However, whether

is so frequent that an analysis of all the examples would call for a separate chapter, which goes, of course, beyond the purposes of this book. The sample list is thus: Book I: 30.2; 55.1. Book II: 5.7; 19.1; 19.2; 25.3; 33.3; 56.5; 56.6; 58.3; 68.9; 79.7; 82; 84.4; 92.6; 94.3. Book III: 1.3; 5.2; 7.5; 18.1; 18.2; 51.4; 79.2; 91.5; 98.5; 103.1; 103.3; 108.3; 111.4; 112.8; 115.6. Book IV: 25.2; 25.6; 25.11; 39.3; 44.6; 56.1; 57.3; 68.3; 72.4; 97; 100.5; 107.2; 113.2– 3; 116.2; 125.1; 128.3; 129.5; 130.6; 130.7; 131.3; 134.2; 135.1. Book V: 3.6; 11.3; 33.2; 33.3; 75.2; 83.2; 115.4. Book VI: 52.2; 62.3; 70.4; 71.1; 94.2; 97.4; 97.5. Book VII: 2.3; 23.4; 25.3; 25.4; 31.2; 34.8; 41.4; 54; 72.2; 78.3; 78.6; 79.5; 80.6; 82.1; 82.3. This structural part is also present in both battles under examination. Rubincam 1991, 181– 198; the dialogue between Hansen (1993, 161– 180) and Clark (1995, 375 – 376) on the authenticity of the battle exhortations; Rubincam 2003, 457– 463, on the literary character of the numbers of the troops and losses; Inglesias 2008, on the structural parts of the military speeches.  For narratives of this kind, Connor (1984, 54– 55) uses the term “commander narrative”.  On Thucydides’ examination of feelings of both individuals and masses, see Desmond 2006, 359.

1 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus

143

the belligerents are assessed as individuals or as a group, the criteria of the assessment are mainly reason and recklessness. Similarly, regarding the battle of Miletus, we read the following sentence: καὶ οἱ μὲν ᾿Aργεῖοι τῷ σφετέρῳ αὐτῶν κέρᾳ προεξᾴξαντες καὶ καταφρονήσαντες, ὡς ἐπ’ Ἴωνάς τε καὶ οὐ δεξομένους ἀτακτότερον χωροῦντες, νικῶνται ὑπὸ τῶν Μιλησίων (8.25.3). And the Argives, dashing forward out of the formation with their wing in a contemptuous disorderly advance against Ionians who would not stand up to them, were defeated by the Milesians.

Thucydides explains that the Argives were defeated because they underestimated their enemies. Being famed as Dorians for their superiority over the Ionians in hoplite battles,⁴ they believed that the Milesians would not be able to confront them if they attacked with great momentum.⁵ Their prediction was, however, belied on the battlefield, as the Milesians not only endured the attack but also defeated them, causing the loss of about three hundred Argives (8.25.3).⁶ Thucydides’ message is that, if one underestimates his enemy, then he will fight without order and will therefore be defeated. This is emphasized even further by the stylistic refinement: the two participles προεξᾴξαντες and καταφρονήσαντες symmetrically correspond to their results in the two verbs νικῶνται and διαφθείρονται. Moreover, the participle προεξᾴξαντες is a hapax and the adverb ἀτακτότερον does not stand next to καταφρονήσαντες just by coincidence. Throughout the Thucydidean oeuvre, both in the speeches and in the description of the action itself, there are plenty of examples that bear out this belief. As for the speeches, it is of particular significance to note that this thought is expressed by the historian in the examples of Book I, where for the first time we read of the permanent features of the Athenians, the Spartans, the Corinthians and the others, which will follow them and will be confirmed at every opportu For further passages in Thucydides on the Dorians’ military superiority over the Ionians, see HCT V, 60. On the distinction between the Ionians and the Dorians in Thucydides in general, see Will 1956, 60, 66 – 67, 97; Edmunds 1975, 103 ff.; Alty 1982, 1– 14; Crane 1996, 147– 161; Strassler 1996, 495 – 496; Calligeri 2002 (religious approach). On the Dorians’ military superiority over the other Greeks as a general belief in ancient Greece, see, for example, Debnar 20044, 5 ff.  If Hanson (in Strassler 1996, 604) is right that the usual tactic of a hoplite attack was the blind attack against the enemy’s masses in order to cause breaches in the lines of the opponents, one then wonders why Thucydides is here blaming the Argives. Perhaps, Hornblower (2006, 615 – 628) is right to conclude that Thucydides is prejudiced against the Argives. On the hoplite battles, see Hanson 2005, 136 – 146.  The number is very possibly only an approximate calculation. Cf. Rubincam 2003, 457– 463. On how laborious the collection of the precise numbers of the forces and losses was for Thucydides, see Schwinge 2008, 23 – 24.

144

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

nity, as the war unfolds. For this reason, the γνῶμαι of these speeches on military tactics have, for their part, a special role in the reading of the whole work, a programmatic role.⁷ Their connection with Book VIII, therefore, means, if anything, that Thucydides continues to interpret the facts through the same ideological filters. The Athenians at Sparta pride themselves on the fact that in the Persian wars they displayed not only eagerness but also, with particular reference to Themistocles, great insight (1.75.1).⁸ In a similar way, the Corinthians, in their second speech in front of the coalition gathering at Sparta, point out that in war it is those who remain calm who eventually prevail.⁹ In their minds, the ability to control one’s anger when at war is of decisive importance. This passage is closely connected with the characterization of the Argives in the battle of Miletus.¹⁰ Thucydides informs us that after their defeat they left Ionia κατὰ τάχος καὶ πρὸς ὀργήν (8.27.6), a description that is reminiscent of that of the battle of Mantinea (5.70: ᾿Aργεῖοι μὲν καὶ οἱ ξύμμαχοι ἐντόνως καὶ ὀργῇ χωροῦντες), offering one more connection between this battle and the rest of the work.¹¹ The expression of personal beliefs becomes even more vivid in the words of distinguished leaders, especially those who enjoy Thucydides’ admiration. In the funeral oration, Pericles praises his compatriots’ rationalism in appreciating every battle (2.40.3). Brasidas, before the battle that was to deprive him of his life, foresaw that the Athenians would maintain order among their troops because they underestimated their opponents (5.9.3). He afterwards urges his men to take advantage of the occasion. Such a way of thinking is not confined to the παρακελεύσεις.¹² The underestimation of the opponent is equally pernicious in the political arena as well, both in domestic and foreign policy. In the Pathology, the historian argues that the

 See Chapter 1, pp. 60 ff.  On Thucydides’ effort to extol Themistocles’ insight, see Finley 1942, 139; Lippold 1965, 335 ff; Konishi 1970, 61– 69; Barrett 1977, 299 – 302; Westlake 1977, 105 – 106; Carawan 1989, 154– 158; Marr 1995, 62– 64; Bakker 2013, 29; Ferrario 2013, 186 n. 22 with further bibliography.  1.122.1: ὁ μὲν εὐοργήτως αὐτῷ προσομιλήσας βεβαιότερος, ὁ δ’ ὀργισθεὶς περὶ αὐτὸν οὐκ έλάσσω πταίει. Gomme (HCT I, 416) is indeed right to complain that this statement does not fit well with the Corinthians’ arguments in this case. It might be better to say that such advice on being prudent does not match with the frivolous portrait of the Corinthians in these speeches (cf. Macleod 1983a, 124 ff.; COT I, 200), which is why these words possibly reflect Thucydides’ own views.  See Shilleto (1872, 146), who also associates these words with the battle at Mantinea and the Argives’ rage there. See also below.  On Thucydides’ negativism against the Argives, see Hornblower 2006, 626.  On the use of this term in the military exhortations before battle, see Hansen 1993, 165.

1 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus

145

most ingenious citizens used to be neutralized by less capable men, because they used to underestimate them to such a degree that they took no precautions (3.83.4: καταφρονοῦντες … ἄφαρκτοι). In the field of foreign policy, Nicias tries to deter the Athenians from underestimating their enemies (6.11.5). In Syracuse, Hermocrates advises his compatriots not to neglect the preparation of the city by disregarding the Athenians (6.33.3: καὶ μήτε καταφρονήσαντες … ἄφαρκτοι). Apart from the speeches, the καταφρόνησις appears equally frequently in the battle descriptions. In the battle of Stratus, the Chaonians underestimate the Stratians and hasten to confront them without the help of their Greek allies. As a result, they are defeated and the narrative itself leads the reader to the conclusion that arrogance is destructive for those who display it (2.81.4).¹³ In Sicily, the Syracusans, watching the Athenians delay their attack, regain their courage and, by underestimating the enemy, are defeated in the first battle against the Athenians, with the repetition of καταφρονοῦντες in the καταφρονεῖν and κατεφρόνησαν (6.35.1; 6.49.2; 6.63.2) escalating the motif until the defeat in 6.67– 71. All these examples suffice to prove that the frivolous καταφρόνησις of the Argives in the battle of Miletus echoes Thucydides’ own thoughts. Moreover, it is worth making some stylistic observations. As said above, in the case of the Argives Thucydides did not merely hastily array some words, but through the correspondence of the two participles with the two verbs he artfully created two symmetrical cause-effect schemas. Still, there is one more similarity with some of the examples mentioned above concerning the use of the adverb ἀτακτότερον, which stands next to the καταφρονήσαντες. In the Pathology (3.83.4) we have the similar phrase καταφρονοῦντες-ἄφαρκτοι,¹⁴ whose variant καταφρονήσαντες-ἄφαρκτοι recurs in the words of Hermocrates (6.33.3). We have an even more striking similarity at 8.25.3 with the καταφρονήσει-ἀτάκτως

 Cf. COT I, 362.  Although the content of 3.83.4 is political, the vocabulary has a clearly military character, yet this has not previously been observed (Barnard 1980, 147 ff; Clifford 1994, 181; Williams 1998, 19; Rood 1998, 64 n. 7; Gustafson 2000, 83; Price 2001, 182; Sonnabend 2004, 53). The words καταφρονέω and ἄφαρκτος are used by Thucydides mainly in military accounts (ἄφαρκτος: 1.6.1; 1.117.1; 3.39.2; 6.33.3 as a military term, whereas only 3.82.7 and 83.4 in a political context; καταφρονέω: 2.11.4; 4.34.1; 6.33.3; 6.34.9; 6.49.2; 6.63.2; 7.63.4; 8.8.4; 8.25.3; 8.82.1 as a military term, whereas only 3.83.4 in a political context; καταφρόνησις: 2.62.4; 5.8.4; 5.9.3 as a military term). We should therefore allow for the possibility that in this case Thucydides’ military wording has been transferred to his political vocabulary. Cf. Gomme (HCT II, 382), who parallels the passage with Archidamus’ strategic admonitions (2.11.4). Besides, Thucydides often uses terms from a certain field in order to talk about another one. See, for example, the commercial terms in Pericles’ description of friendship and alliances in 2.40.4– 5 (Allison 2001, 53 – 64) or the medical terminology in the description of the slaughter at Mycalessus (Kallet 1999, 223 – 244).

146

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

of Brasidas’ words (5.9.3). In all these four examples, Thucydides stresses the negative role of such underestimation by means of the prefix ἀ-. ii. Surmounting the numerical superiority of the enemy. Yet another Thucydidean motif that we encounter in the battle of Miletus is the conviction that numerical superiority in battle is not necessarily an indisputable advantage. There are plenty of parallels of this in both speeches and battle descriptions. Before, however, quoting these passages, let us examine how Thucydides returns to this motif in the battle of Miletus. As we have seen, at the beginning of ch. 25 he gives the numbers of the forces under the Athenians and their allies. Yet, we are to be informed only of the Argive losses. The historian is equally selective concerning the opposite side, recording only the figure of eight hundred dead Milesians (8.25.1– 2). Thucydides does not ignore the exact number of the dead, other than those of the Argives, nor is he unaware of the numbers of the Spartan and barbarian forces. For, in ch. 8.26.3 it is clear that he had in his possession more information about the other participants in the battle, information which he, however, omits in his main description. There we read that, after the battle, Alcibiades met the newly-arrived fleet of the Spartans and the Syracusans under the escort of the cavalry and that he had himself participated in the battle.¹⁵ Thus, while Thucydides has knowledge of further details about the battle, he selectively chooses only to give those relating to the exact number of Argives (in terms of losses)¹⁶ and of Milesians (in terms of the Peloponnesian forces), thereby aiming to create a comparison solely between these two. In this way, he layers the Argives’ καταφρόνησις with an additional motive: they consider themselves to be in an advantageous position not only due to their Dorian origins but also because of their numerical superiority. They have almost twice the numbers of the Milesians. In this way, the emphasis on the number of their losses underlines even further the blow that they take from the numerically inferior enemy. This case echoes the words of King Archidamus in the first παρακέλευσις of the History. During the invasion of Attica by the allies, the Spartan warns his troops that their numerical superiority will be of no use for them, if they lack  One of these omissions pertains to Alcibiades’ involvement in the battle. Scholars are divided over Thucydides’ general stance toward Alcibiades: Some contend that the historian favors him (Brunt 1952, 65 ff.; Stewart 1966, 149; Bloedow 1973, 85 – 86; Westlake 1985, 98; Forde 1989, 176 – 210), while others see criticism from Thucydides (Tompkins 1972, 181, 204– 214; Bloedow 1992, 139 – 157; Lang 1996, 295; Wohl 1999, 352 ff.; Vickers 1999, 265 – 281; Smith 2009, 365). At least in this case, it can hardly be denied that this is the very moment when Alcibiades’ betrayal reaches its climax (COT III, 822), which is why I believe that Thucydides here deliberately favors him.  Compare the sea battle of ch. 1.29.2– 5, where the historian omits again the number of dead and the damage to the Corcyran ships, perhaps in order to stress their victory even more.

1 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus

147

organization and order.¹⁷ We read again the typical phrase καταφρονοῦνταςἀπαρασκεύους, which corresponds with the καταφρονήσαντες-ἀτακτότερον of ch. 8.25.3.¹⁸ Moreover, the adverb ἀμελέστερόν in Archidamus’ words is justified by the τούτων ἕνεκα, as the ἀτακτότερον is by the ὡς ἐπ’ Ἴωνάς τε καὶ οὐ δεξομένους. Additionally, the οὐ δεξομένους of ch. 8.25.3 matches the μὴ ἂν ἐλθεῖν of ch. 2.11.3. In the two sea battles of Patrae and Naupactus, Thucydides attributes the Peloponnesians’ errors to their overestimation of their numerical superiority.¹⁹ They move without having prepared for battle, in the hope that the Athenians will not dare attack them with only twenty ships, and are defeated (2.83 – 84). After the battle, the Peloponnesian generals admit their mistake (2.87.5), but they do not learn from it (2.85.1). In the second battle, they have even more triremes, seventy-four against twenty. On the opposite side, the Athenian general Phormio attempts to assuage his soldiers’ fear in the face of the enemy’s sizable fleet (2.89.1), by telling them that πολλὰ δὲ καὶ στρατόπεδα ἤδη ἔπεσεν ὑπ’ ἐλασσόνων (2.89.7). The outcome of the clash is not, in contrast to the Peloponnesians’ expectations, the crushing defeat of the Athenians. On the contrary, a momentary underestimation of the enemy again sufficed to lead to a reversal (2.91– 92).²⁰ In ch. 4.126 – 128, Thucydides offers the description of Brasidas’ battle against the Lyngesteans, aiming again to send the same message.²¹ iii. The contrast between the Argives and the Athenians. The Miletus account is structured in such a way that the reader is encouraged to compare the deficiencies of the one participant with the virtues of the other. The historian uses the pair μέν … δέ to divide the brief description, in order to contrast the hair-brained Argives with the skillful Athenians (the first part of the battle begins with the phrase καὶ οἱ μὲν ᾿Aργεῖοι, while the second with ᾿Aθηναῖοι δέ). In this way, the author methodically presents the largest part of the battle from the viewpoint of the one side (Athenians, Argives), in order to stress the antithesis between them.²² Moreover, the stylistic harmony intensifies the antithesis even more; against the three participles of negative content for the Argives προεξᾴξαν 2.11.3 – 4. On this passage, see Hunter 1973, 11.  These are clearly Thucydides’ own thoughts (cf. HCT II, 13), a view that is also suggested by the verbal affinities not only with 8.25.3 but also with 3.83.4, 5.9.3 and 6.33.3.  On these battles, see Stahl 1966, 87 ff.; Hunter 1973, 43 – 60; Hornblower 20003, 194– 204; Allison 1989, 135 ff.; Grethlein 2013.  See Sommer 2006, 27.  See Hunter 1973, 25.  This is a typical Thucydidean technique, with the subjects being the troops of one side only. Cf. 1.45 – 55; 1.62– 63; 2.2– 6 in the largest part of the battle description; 2.22.2– 3; 2.79.2– 7; 4.124.1– 4.

148

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

τες, καταφρονήσαντες and ἀτακτότερον χωροῦντες, another three stand out for their positive twist for the Athenians νικήσαντες, ὠσάμενοι and κρατοῦντες. Once again, the expressional harmony suggests special elaboration. Moreover, while for the Argives the choice of vocabulary consciously aims to criticize their disorder, the Athenians are purposely depicted as standing in front of the ὄχλον (8.25.4),²³ a choice that creates yet another contrast between the methodical Athenians and the numerous hostile masses. Both the structure and the verbal polish of the description are thus used with a sole purpose, to highlight Athenian superiority over both their comrades and their enemies. Two naval battles that took place within the same context are of interest here, namely the two battles of Corcyra in ch. 1.45 – 55 and 3.77– 78. The first took place in 432 BC at Sybota, a cluster of small islands near Corcyra. According to the historian, this was the greatest naval battle fought between Greeks thus far (1.50.2), and Thucydides’ purpose is to focus on the lack of technique of the two sizable, rival fleets – comprised of 150 ships for the Corinthians and 110 for the Corcyrians.²⁴ He opens his account with the detail that the ships on both sides were loaded with hoplites, archers and spearmen, which is why the clash, he observes, was more reminiscent of a land battle, as its outcome was determined not by the maneuvers of the ships, which were actually immobilized, but by the soldiers themselves. The general judgment on the nature of this naval battle is that it was characterized by maritime inexperience, which, combined with the great number of the ships, resulted in chaos and confusion. Those trying to save themselves found it very difficult to fight off the mob. Moreover, the Corinthians, as soon as they prevailed, hastened to exterminate all the enemies that were still lying in the water. But Thucydides adds one more detail in order to remind us of their inexperience: They were also killing their own comrades, as they were not aware of the fact that the other flank of their fleet had been defeated and many of their own men were also lying in the water (1.50.1).²⁵ The similarity with the battle of Miletus lies in the fact that here too all these details are contrasted with the Athenians’ experience and military superiority.

 On the derogatory character of this term in Thucydides, both in military as well as in political terms, see Hunter 1988/89, 17– 20. See also Zumbrunnen 2008, 33 and n. 14 with passages where the word is used as a military term. For an opposite view, cf. Cawkwell 1997, 123 n. 20.  This is the communis opinio (Hammond 1945, 30; Gomme HCT I, 184; Morisson/Coates/Rankov 1986, 67– 68; COT I, 91– 92; Konishi 2008, 159 – 163).  For a detailed demonstration of the means Thucydides uses in order to contrast the Athenian superiority to the inexperience of the others, see Konishi 2008, 159 – 163.

1 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus

149

Thucydides, in very timely fashion, has already informed us from 1.45 that the Athenians had sent only ten triremes to Corcyra, with the order not to fight but to observe the naval battle and to intervene only in case of emergency. The Athenian abstention from this crowded battle is also mentioned in ch. 49.4, a repetition that reflects Thucydides’ effort to stress that the Athenians did not take part in this clumsy battle. There is an antithesis between the numerous and inexperienced crews of the Corinthians and the Corcyrans and the fewer in number but experienced Athenians (1.49.4– 7);²⁶ as in the battle of Miletus, there is an antithesis between the Athenians and the ὄχλου (1.49.3). The words Thucydides uses in order to describe the Argives’ activity (προεξᾴξαντες, καταφρονήσαντες and ἀτακτότερον χωροῦντες) offer absolutely no details on the way they fought, reflecting only their emotions, while, in contrast, the historian uses the technical term ὠσάμενοι for the Athenians. The ὠθισμός was a specific, established and well-known hoplite technique,²⁷ thus by itself putting the reader in the picture. Of course, this is the only technical term in this very short description, which is why we cannot claim to have a detailed account in technical terms. The significance of ὠσάμενοι for us lies in the fact that Thucydides is clearly being more descriptive for the Athenians than for the Argives, in this way stressing the antithesis even more. The difference in vocabulary reflects the difference in terms of techniques: the participle ὠσάμενοι, if anything, means that the Athenians followed the traditional methods of the hoplite tactics, while the absence of such methods in the case of the Argives is expressed by the absence of an analogous vocabulary. Additionally, the naval battle of Sybota²⁸ offers further similarities between Book VIII and the other books. In this narrative, Thucydides creates a similar antithesis between words suggestive of artless fighting and contemporary technical terms. While he uses the words ἀπειρότερον, θυμῷ and ῥώμῃ for the collision between the Corinthians and the Corcyrans, he suddenly offers a technical clarification in reference to the Athenians: διέκπλοι δ’ οὐκ ἦσαν (1.49.1– 3). There is no doubt that by using the term διέκπλοι Thucydides is here referring to his com-

 Thucydides’ emphasis on the fact that the Athenians avoided getting involved in the battle has diplomatic implications too: In this way, he also absolves them of responsibility for breaking off the truce with the Corinthians.  HCT III, 566; Cawkwell 1989, 375 – 389; COT II, 201 with further bibliography; Mathew 2009, 395 – 415.  On this naval battle, see Morrison/Coates/Rankov 1986, 62– 69; Lazenby 2004, 22– 25; Foster 2010, 64– 73.

150

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

patriots, contrasting their naval virtue with the ineptness of the others.²⁹ Thus, just as the προεξᾴξαντες, καταφρονήσαντες and ἀτακτότερον χωροῦντες of the Argives are contrasted with the ὠσάμενοι of the Athenians (8.25), in a similar way the ἀπειρότερον, θυμῷ and ῥώμῃ of the Corinthians/Corcyrans are contrasted with the διέκπλοι of the Athenians (1.49). iv. The comment. The means of expression through which Thucydides stresses the Argives’ arrogance and the Athenians’ superiority cannot but suggest that the author was particularly focused on the stylistic elaboration of the description. However, apart from all these, the similarities between the comment made at the end of the battle (25.5) and the many comments on other battles are yet further proof that Thucydides is here also implementing the compositional plan of the previous books of the History. These affinities concern: a) The content of the comment; b) its style; and c) the goals it serves. Before proceeding with an analysis of all these, let us examine the comment itself: καὶ ξυνέβη ἐν τῇ μάχῃ ταύτῃ τοὺς Ἴωνας ἀμφοτέρωθεν τῶν Δωριῶν κρατῆσαι· τούς τε γὰρ κατὰ σφᾶς Πελοποννησίους οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι ἐνίκων καὶ τοὺς ᾿Aργείους οἱ Μιλήσιοι. (8.25.5) And in this battle it turned out that the Ionians on both sides conquered the Dorians; for the Athenians defeated the Peloponnesians facing them, and the Milesians, the Argives.

Style. The comment is strikingly similar to five of the twelve comments on battles Thus, including 8.25.5, we have six samples – half of the total – with exactly the same logic. Such comments usually consist of two parts; first, there is a short sentence, which is then followed by its explanation/justification, introduced by a γάρ. In ch. 25.5 the first part is the sentence καὶ ξυνέβη ἐν τῇ μάχῃ ταύτῃ τοὺς Ἴωνας ἀμφοτέρωθεν τῶν Δωριῶν κρατῆσαι. The second part, the explanation/justification, follows immediately: τούς τε γὰρ κατὰ σφᾶς Πελοποννησίους οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι ἐνίκων καὶ τοὺς ᾿Aργείους οἱ Μιλήσιοι. This is also the case with the comments on the battles of Pylos (4.12.3; 14.3; 40.1) and Syracuse (7.44.1 ff; 71.7). In the first battle in Pylos, the Spartans attempt to land with forty-three ships, in order to occupy the Athenian stronghold. At the end of the description, Thucydides comments that the enemies swapped their battle tactics: The Athenians, although specialists in naval operations, fought from the land, while the Spartans, although more experienced in land battles, attacked from the ships. The

 Morrison/Coates/Rankov 1986, 65 n. 5. By using this term, Thucydides refers here to the Athenians, as he usually does with it (2.83.5; 2.89.8; 7.36.4; 69.4; 70.4). The only case where he uses this term for another party is at 1.50.1 (διεκπλέοντες μᾶλλον), where, however, he does not mean the military tactic (and for this reason there is no inconsistency with the preceding διέκπλοι δ’ οὐκ ἦσαν in 1.49.3, as Wilson 1987, 47– 48 wrongly believed). See HCT I, 185.

1 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus

151

comment at 4.12.3 is divided into two parts, in a correspondence with 8.25.5. The first part: ἐς τοῦτό τε περιέστη ἡ τύχη ὥστε ᾿Aθηναίους μὲν ἐκ γῆς τε καὶ ταύτης Λακωνικῆς ἀμύνεσθαι ἐκείνους ἐπιπλέοντας, Λακεδαιμονίους δὲ ἐκ νεῶν τε καὶ ἐς τὴν ἑαυτῶν πολεμίαν οὖσαν ἐπ’ ᾿Aθηναίους ἀποβαίνειν· And this remarkable turn of events came about, the Athenians warding off Lacedaemonians attacking their own land by sea, with Lacedaemonians attacking Athenians from ships and trying to land on enemy territory, which was actually their own;

The explanation/justification introduced by γάρ: ἐπὶ πολὺ γὰρ ἐποίει τῆς δόξης ἐν τῷ τότε τοῖς μὲν ἠπειρώταις μάλιστα εἶναι καὶ τὰ πεζὰ κρατίστοις, τοῖς δὲ θαλασσίοις τε καὶ ταῖς ναυσὶ πλεῖστον προύχειν. Remarkable in that the latter at that time particularly prided themselves on being a land power supreme in infantry, the former on being seafarers who excelled in fighting with ships.

Thucydides again comments on a similar situation, this time concerning the battle two days later (4.14.3): ἐγένετό τε ὁ θόρυβος μέγας καὶ ἀντηλλαγμένου τοῦ ἑκατέρων τρόπου περὶ τὰς ναῦς· There was great turmoil with a reversal on each side of the usual naval tactics;

The explanation/justification again follows, with γάρ: οἵ τε γὰρ Λακεδαιμόνιοι ὑπὸ προθυμίας καὶ ἐκπλήξεως ὡς εἰπεῖν ἄλλο οὐδὲν ἢ ἐκ γῆς ἐναυμάχουν, οἵ τε ᾿Aθηναῖοι κρατοῦντες καὶ βουλόμενοι τῇ παρούσῃ τύχῃ ὡς ἐπὶ πλεῖστον ἐπεξελθεῖν ἀπὸ νεῶν ἐπεζομάχουν. For the Lacedaemonians in their zeal and consternation were, one could say, fighting a sea battle on land, while the Athenians, victorious and wishing to follow up their present luck³⁰ to the utmost, were fighting a land battle from ships.

By the end of the events of Pylos, Thucydides’ interest has shifted toward the unusual and unconditional surrender of the Spartans at Sphacteria (4.40.1): The first part: παρὰ γνώμην τε δὴ μάλιστα τῶν κατὰ τὸν πόλεμον τοῦτο τοῖς Ἕλλησιν ἐγένετο·

 Lattimore’s (1984, 196) translation “success” does not correspond to τῇ παρούσῃ τύχῃ of the text.

152

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

And indeed the Hellenes found this to be the most unexpected thing in the war;

The explanation/justification with γάρ: τοὺς γὰρ Λακεδαιμονίους οὔτε λιμῷ οὔτ’ ἀνάγκῃ οὐδεμιᾷ ἠξίουν τὰ ὅπλα παραδοῦναι, ἀλλὰ ἔχοντας καὶ μαχομένους ὡς ἐδύναντο ἀποθνῄσκειν. For they thought that the Lacedaemonians were not supposed to give up their arms because of hunger or compulsion but to keep them and die fighting any way they could.

On the battle of Syracuse we have the same schema (7.44.1): First part: ἐν δὲ νυκτομαχίᾳ, ἣ μόνη δὴ στρατοπέδων μεγάλων ἔν γε τῷδε τῷ πολέμῳ ἐγένετο, πῶς ἄν τις σαφῶς τι ᾔδει; and in a night battle, the only one in this war at least that actually took place between two large armies, how could anyone know anything clearly?

Explanatory part: ἦν μὲν γὰρ σελήνη λαμπρά … (for) there was bright moonlight …

Last, on the final defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, we read in the first part of the comment (7.71.7): ἦν τε ἐν τῷ παραυτίκα οὐδεμιᾶς δὴ τῶν ξυμπασῶν ἐλάσσων ἔκπληξις. παραπλήσιά τε ἐπεπόνθεσαν καὶ ἔδρασαν αὐτοὶ ἐν Πύλῳ· The shock of this moment went beyond anything; what they had suffered was almost exactly what they had dealt out at Pylos;

Followed by the typical clarification: διαφθαρεισῶν γὰρ τῶν νεῶν τοῖς Λακεδαιμονίοις προσαπώλλυντο αὐτοῖς καὶ οἱ ἐν τῇ νήσῳ ἄνδρες διαβεβηκότες, καὶ τότε τοῖς ᾿Aθηναίοις ἀνέλπιστον ἦν τὸ κατὰ γῆν σωθήσεσθαι, ἢν μή τι παρὰ λόγον γίγνηται. For when the ships of the Lacedaemonians were destroyed, their men who had crossed over the island were also as good as lost, and this time there was no hope for the Athenians to reach safety by land unless something unaccountable happened.

On the basis of the present comparative analysis, it is obvious that the comment of ch. 25.5 is compatible with the rule, and so the question is whether this is a conscious or a spontaneous choice. If we examine the wording more care-

1 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Miletus

153

fully, we can easily see that the narrator is fully conscious of how he is shaping the style. Let us take a close look at the way in which he constructs the explanatory connection between the two parts of the comment. There is often a chiastic scheme or an analysis. In ch. 4.12.3 the chiastic scheme develops between the ᾿Aθηναίους μὲν ἐκ γῆς and Λακεδαιμονίους δὲ ἐκ νεῶν of the first part and the τοῖς μὲν ἠπειρώταις … καί … κρατίστοις and τοῖς δὲ θαλασσίοις τε καὶ ταῖς ναυσὶ πλεῖστον προύχειν of the second part. In 7.71.7 there is a chiastic between the ἐπεπόνθεσαν and ἔδρασαν αὐτοὶ ἐν Πύλῳ of the first part and the διαφθαρεισῶν γὰρ τῶν νεῶν τοῖς Λακεδαιμονίοις προσαπώλλυντο αὐτοῖς καὶ οἱ ἐν τῇ νήσῳ ἄνδρες διαβεβηκότες and the καὶ τότε τοῖς ᾿Aθηναίοις ἀνέλπιστον ἦν τὸ κατὰ γῆν σωθήσεσθαι of the second part. Somewhat differently, in ch. 4.14.3 the ἑκατέρων of the first part is analyzed into the οἵ τε γὰρ Λακεδαιμόνιοι and οἵ τε ᾿Aθηναῖοι of the explanatory part. In ch. 8.25.5 Thucydides uses both schemes (chiastic and analysis): The ἀμφοτέρωθεν of the first sentence is analyzed into οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι and οἱ Μιλήσιοι as part of the explanation/justification. At the same time, the τοὺς Ἴωνας and τῶν Δωριῶν first corresponds with the τούς … Πελοποννησίους and οἱ ᾿Aθηναῖοι and right after with the τοὺς ᾿Aργείους and οἱ Μιλήσιοι. It is quite impossible to believe that in ch. 8.25.5 Thucydides unconsciously used both the expressive means of the comments, the chiastic – especially twice – and the analysis. Rather, the author is cautiously composing the description through which he moves from the Chios case to the narrative on the eventuality of a great naval battle. Content. Because the victors on both sides were Ionians, Thucydides considered this hoplite battle remarkable. The Athenians prevailed over the Peloponnesians and the Milesians thrashed the Dorian Argives, an outcome that would be expected to be of interest to every Greek in that period, given the generally acknowledged superiority of the Dorians over the Ionians in land battles.³¹ As a result, many have argued that Thucydides’ comment stems from this pan-Hellenic interest in discrimination on tribal lines.³² However, it is also possible to comprehend a different message in this passage: Thucydides’ interest in the unpredictability of war.³³ When we also take into account his comments on the battles of Pylos (4.12.3 and 14.3), the same conclusion can be reached, namely that Thucydides raises the same subject: that the two enemies changed their fighting methods. Even more unexpectedly, at the end of the events at Pylos, the whole of

 See above, n. 4.  Alty 1982, 5 ff.; Fragoulaki 2013, 88; Hornblower (COT III, 822– 823), who also argues that this is again Thucycides’ criticism of the Argives.  On the subject of unexpectedness in Thucydides, see Edmunds 1975, 4; Tsopanakis 1986, 164– 177; Flory 1988, 19; Desmond, 2006, 361.

154

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

Greece observes the Spartans surrendering their weapons.³⁴ As far as the comment on the Athenian debacle is concerned, Thucydides draws the readers’ attention again to the unexpectedness of war. Consequently, in the light of these thoughts, the comment at ch. 25.5 links Book VIII with the rest of the work, not only in terms of expression but also of ideology. Besides the unexpectedness of war, in the comment at ch. 25.5 we can discern one more Thucydidean compositional principle: the historian’s need to present the events he describes as being more significant and memorable than those recorded by his predecessors. Let us recall ch. 1.23 and how persistently Thucydides tries to convince us that his own war is the greatest of all.³⁵ If we closely examine all the battles then we will see that the historian does not miss the opportunity to underline their importance in order to prove what he had stated in ch. 1.23.³⁶ The whole work is an effort to prove that the Peloponnesian war was the greatest war in history thus far, and the evidence Thucydides presents for this can be found in his comments on the battles.³⁷ To conclude, the fact that the comment on the battle of Miletus belongs to these examples means that in this case the narrative procedure is not merely a rough sketch but continues to be governed by the compositional principles set by the historian from the beginning.

 On the relation of the comments in 4.12.3, 14.3 and 40.1– 2 to the unexpectedness of war, see, separately: for 4.12.3 see Rood 1998, 27; Price 2001, 268. On 4.14.3 see Rood 1998, 7, who also associates it with 7.71.7. On 4.40.1– 2 see Crane 1996, 231– 232; Kallet-Marx 2001, 78; Romilly 2003, 86, 91; Will 2003, 69; Cartledge/Debnar 2006, 561– 562; Schwinge 2008, 85. See also Flory’s (1988, 18 – 19) insightful observations.  On Thucydides’ competitive attitude toward his predecessors, see Rood 1999; Corcella 2006; Rood 2013, 119 – 138; Christodoulou 2013, 231.  1.50.2; 3.113.6; 4.12.3; 14.3; 40.1; 5.60.3; 74.1; 6.31.1–2; 7.29.5; 30.3; 44.1; 71.7; 75.7. Tsakmakis (1995, 59) insists that 1.23 is not supported by the rest of the work. Foster (2010, 42) rightly responds that the view given in 1.23, according to which the Peloponnesian war was the most significant thus far, is supported by Thucydides’ effort in the Archaeology to belittle the military achievements of the past (Minos, Agamemnon, Persian war). Following Foster, I would add that the closing comments on the significance of the battles as well as some of the comments after disasters (e. g. Mycalessus in ch. 7.30.3) likewise aim to prove the message of 1.23. See also Schwinge’s (2008, 35 – 71) similar approach to Book III.  Although not only by stressing the dark side of the war and focusing mainly on the defeated, despite Stahl’s (2013, 317 ff.) view. As we saw, there are also some closing comments that pertain to the neutral observers of the war or even the victors of a battle. For the approach of the Thucydidean work as a presentation of a subversive war, see Hanson 2005. The title itself A War like no Other is revealing of this approach. Particularly concerning ch. 4.12.3, ch. 14.3 and ch. 40.1– 2 we should mention Donald Kagan’s (2009) view that the events at Pylos changed the character of the war.

2 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Cynos Sema

155

2 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Cynos Sema The naval battle took place in 411 BC. The Spartan general Mindarus had already being inciting the cities of the Hellespont to revolt from the Athenian alliance, and this was the main reason why the Athenians hastened to confront their enemies. The Thucydidean description is as follows: After five days of preparations, the Athenians decide to fight and are moving near to the coastline of Sestus. The Peloponnesians notice them and depart from Abydus, going in the opposite direction. The Athenian forces totaled seventy-six ships, while the Peloponnesians outnumbered them, having ten more ships, i. e. a total of eighty-six. On the Peloponnesians’ left flank were the most agile triremes under the command of Mindarus, while the Syracusans were on the right flank. On the Athenian side, Thrasylus commanded the left flank, Thrasybulus the right and the rest of the generals were in the middle. Thucydides opens the main description of the battle by presenting the Peloponnesian plan: Mindarus’ left flank would block the Athenians’ right flank from the open sea, while the middle section of the fleet would lead the Athenian ships in the center to the nearby land. However, Thrasybulus’ right flank avoided the Peloponnesian blockade, while Thrasylus’ left flank was already moving toward the open sea, the result being that the central section of the Athenian fleet was left isolated and thus defeated by the Peloponnesians. It was impossible for the two flanks to help, as the right one was coming under pressure from the enemy’s triremes, while Thrasylus was fighting the Syracusans and the cape of Cynos Sema deprived him of a line of visibility to what was happening in the middle. So, the Peloponnesians pursued the Athenian ships in the middle to land, where they disembarked with the aim of killing the crews. Nevertheless, while they seemed to be winning – at least in the center – they became over-confident given that they were prevailing. As a result, the line-up of their triremes started to break up and disperse as they were chasing the Athenians. This came to the attention of Thrasybulus, who defeated his own opponents and also beat the scattered Peloponnesians in the center. The Syracusans have already been defeated and flee as soon as they see their comrades losing the battle. The victory belongs to the Athenians, who destroyed twenty enemy ships and lost fifteen of their own (8.104– 106). We will first discuss the Thucydidean motifs that can be detected in this naval battle too, and then elaborate on its place in the History. For, given that this battle restores the Athenians’ prestige as an authority in naval affairs, the question is which techniques Thucydides uses to achieve this within the description itself.

156

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

i. Preparation. This graphic description contains plenty of Thucydidean narrative techniques.³⁸ Some are among the most common (e. g. the division of the fleets into flanks) and hence we will not focus on these but will instead turn our attention to those that are usually unmentioned. The narrative begins with the introductory part of the preparation: ἐς τὴν ναυμαχίαν πέντε ἡμέρας παρεσκευάζοντο (8.103.3). In Thucydides the stage of παρασκευή serves as an introduction to the descriptions of naval battles.³⁹ In the naval battle between the Corinthians and the Corcyrans at Sybota, the main narrative leading to the naval battle begins with a phrase similar to that of Cynos Sema (1.46.1), a phrase which is soon afterwards repeated (1.48.1). In the first battle between the Athenians and the Peloponnesians the description is again introduced through the detail that the latter were prepared for a land battle but not for one at sea (2.83.3). The subsequent clash is depicted in the same way (2.85.3; 86.1). In Book III, the naval battle at Corcyra is introduced by the preparations of the Corcyrans (3.77.1), and this scheme is also found for those of the Sicilian account (7.22.1; 36.2; 38.3).⁴⁰ It is worth noting that the motif does not appear only in the narratives on military clashes. In a wider narrative context, Thucydides introduces large operations by demonstrating the requisite preparations. For example, the very subject of the Thucydidean oeuvre, the Peloponnesian war, is introduced by the preparations of both sides (2.7– 9). Correspondingly, ch. 6.24– 26 are dedicated to the preparation of the Sicilian expedition, having an introductory role for both Books VI and VII.⁴¹ It could be argued that the presence of the motif of παρασκευή is due to Thucydides’ status as a military officer. In ch. 5.56.4 the historian explains that no great battle took place in the winter of 416 BC, just a few surprise attacks. Thucydides obviously distinguishes organized battles from those of an unorthodox character,⁴² and the consolidation of the παρασκευή as a narrative introduction to the military descriptions perhaps emanates from

 Fellner (1880, 30) writes on this account: “…wird dann … die Schlacht von Kynossema in so ausführlicher und klarer Weise erzählt, dass man unbedingt sagen kann, die Darstellung derselben stehe in keiner Weise den Schlachtenbeschreibungen in den ausgearbeiteten Theilen des Werkes nach”, while Hornblower (COT III, 1047, with further bibliography) characterizes it as “Thucydides’ best and clearest pieces of military narrative”.  In relation to the following motifs, we will confine our demonstration to sea battles, given their greater relevance to the case of Cynos Sema.  On this motif in land battles, see 2.18.1– 2; 3.94– 96.2; 96.3; 107.2– 4; 4.8.4; 93.1; 5.6.4– 8.2; 10.1; 67.1– 2; 68.1; 6.63; 7.42.1.  On the contribution of the παρασκευή to the unity of the History, see Allison (1989, 2 and generally her whole study). See also Tsakmakis 1995, 42.  As Hornblower (COT III, 148) mentions, Thucydides seems to be more fond of the traditional way of fighting than of alternative ways such as ambushes, etc.

2 The motifs of the Thucydidean military descriptions in the battle of Cynos Sema

157

his need to distinguish such battles from smaller skirmishes. These considerations are of great importance in our understanding of how Book VIII is linked to the other books. We have already demonstrated in Chapter 2 that the contrast between a well-organized naval battle (Cynos Sema) with a skirmish of an opportunistic character is one of the two basic techniques of coherence in Book VIII. Given the special place of the element of preparation in Thucydides, this is one more sign of continuity between this book and the rest of the History. ii. Route and encampment. After the preparation, Thucydides reenacts the routes taken by the enemies to the spot where they fought. The Athenians were moving παρ’ αὐτὴν τὴν γῆν ἐπὶ τῆς Σηστοῦ, and the Peloponnesians ἐκ τῆς ᾿Aβύδου (8.104.1). As soon as both sides decided to confront each other, they deployed their fleets, a movement depicted by Thucydides in a very elaborate way, with two phrases of equal parts, intensifying in this way the gravity of the moment. The Athenians distributed their fleet ἀπὸ Ἰδάκου μέχρι ᾿Aρριανῶν, νῆες ἓξ καὶ ἑβδομήκοντα, while the Peloponnesians were ἀπὸ ᾿Aβύδου μέχρι Δαρδάνου, νῆες ἓξ καὶ ὀγδοήκοντα (8.104.2). This is the second main section of a battle (both on land⁴³ and at sea), as the following parallels demonstrate. The description of the naval battle at Sybota is rich in detail. Thucydides here offers the Corinthians’ starting point, their base and its geomorphology (1.46.3 – 4). He is equally instructive on the position of the Corcyran fleet and infantry, as well as on the movements of the belligerents during and after the battle (1.47– 51.4). With regard to the sea battle of Patrae, the route of the Peloponnesian fleet toward the point of the confrontation is given in detail. Spatial definitions direct the reader not only on the movements of the forces but also on the place from where and the way in which they were moving (2.83.2– 3). This is also the case with the following battle (2.84.4– 86.4) and that of Corcyra in Book III (3.76).⁴⁴ iii. Alternating focalization:⁴⁵ Observation of the enemy’s movements and shift from flank to flank. We have just seen how Thucydides instructs the reader on the routes of the military forces before battle. In many of these cases, the historian describes the movements of one of the two enemies as

 On this element in land battles, see 1.61.3 – 4. On this description, see Rood 2012, 144; 62.1; 3.95 – 96; 106.1– 3; 4.91; 93.1; 5.6 – 8; 64.3 – 5; 65.1; 66.1; 6.65.1.  On geography and topography in Thucydides, see Sieveking 1964, 73 – 179; Funke/Haake 2006, 369 – 384; Rood 2012, 141– 159; Pothou 2013, 167.  On the term “focalization”, Hornblower (1994, 134) writes, “the narrator is the person narrating. The focaliser is the person who orders and interprets the events and experiences which are being narrated”. On focalization in Thucydides, see also Rood 1998; Watts-Tobin 2001, 89 – 110. In general, see Genette 1988, 72– 78.

158

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

being the reaction to the movements of the opponent, a motif that also develops in the description of the events at Cynos Sema. At the beginning of the account, the Peloponnesians go to Abydus, because they had noticed the movements of the Athenians αἰσθόμενοι (8.104.1). We also find this technique in the most central naval battles of the History, such as those of Sybota (1.47.1; 48.2– 3), Patrae and Naupactus (2.83.2– 3; 90.3 – 4),⁴⁶ and Syracuse (7.37.3).⁴⁷ This schema is also used, in order to transfer the narrative from the one side of the battle to the other: While the focalizer is the author, as the know-all narrator he suddenly offers us the viewpoints of the belligerents themselves. Such a multiple focalization offered Thucydides a way in which to depict the psychological character of a battle by transferring the action from one wing to the other, yet without rendering the plot fragmentary and disconnected. As is well known, during a battle the armies and the fleets of the ancient peoples – including the Greeks – were divided into flanks. On many occasions, the battle, whether on land or at sea, would become chaotic, meaning that a flank, independently of whether it was currently winning or not, would be psychologically affected by what they saw happening to their other flank, whether it was winning or being crushed. As a result, a partial defeat could be used to bring about a total withdrawal, while if one side had the upper hand this would be used to encourage the various parts of its army and thus lead to an unexpected victory. This is all highly revealing of the psychological nature of war in antiquity. Indeed, Thucydides almost always presents the protagonists not only as watching each other but also as being emotionally affected by observing their comrades, meaning that the final outcome of the battle is the result of the interactions of several fronts. In the case of Cynos Sema, as the narrator’s lens focuses on the place where the left and the central flank of the Peloponnesians are being defeated, the action now shifts to the right flank of the Peloponnesian forces, the Syracusans. We then read that the latter, having been defeated, fled, ἐπειδὴ καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους ἑώρων (8.105.3). The same technique is also found during the naval battles of Sybota (1.49.7), Naupactus (2.92.1), and of Corcyra in Book III (3.77.3).⁴⁸ Through the multiple focalizations, the author creates for the reader the image of an enemy who closely watches his host’s movements and thus chooses

 On this technique in this naval battle, see Grethlein 2013, 96 – 98.  On this schema in land battles, see 1.62.5. On the multiple focalization in this description as a means for the reader’s participation, see Morrison 2006a, 39 – 43; 3.96.3; 106.1; 4.9.1; 13.3; 42.3; 91; 93.2; 5.6.3; 8.1; 10.2– 3; 10.5; 65.1; 66.1; 6.65.2– 3; 7.4.3.  On similar examples in land battles, see 1.62.3; 63.1; 2.79.5; 81.6; 3.108.1– 3; 4.14.2; 25.9 – 11; 36.2; 5.73.2– 3; 6.101.6 – 102.1; 7.23.1.

3 The narrative role of the battle at Cynos Sema in the arrangement of the History

159

an equally safe and strategically powerful position before battle in order to protect himself or to startle the others. These changes of perspectives link all the transpositions of the troops in a causative manner. More to the point, this kind of description makes the narrative vivid, because the reader, as if he was participating himself in the development of the placements and of the battle, sees the two adversaries watching each other before or during the battle, a technique that increases the tension even more.⁴⁹ The presence of this schema in the battle description of Cynos Sema too is highly suggestive of a careful and methodical concentration on the compositional procedure in Book VIII.

3 The narrative role of the battle at Cynos Sema in the arrangement of the History One of the central concepts in the Thucydidean oeuvre is the Athenians’ naval superiority,⁵⁰ a subject which in Thucydides’ mind has political and financial connotations as well. In the Archaeology, Thucydides proceeds with a historical review of the maritime hegemonies of the past, going from Minos to the Mycenae of Agamemnon, continuing up to Samos and Corinth. In this way, the following Pentecontaetia presents the Athenians not only as developing themselves into the greatest naval power but also as the continuators of a long tradition. If the Archaeology is the naval history of the Greeks, then the whole work is the narration of the last phase of this naval activity, a phase that is identified with the Athenians. In this last part of the book, I will attempt to answer the question of the place of the naval battle of Cynos Sema within the account of the Athenians’ naval power. However, given that this topic is by itself the basis for not only one but for many monographs, we will content ourselves here with the naval battles, without examining other dimensions of the subject (political, financial etc.) i. The battles of Erineos and Cynos Sema. As we saw in Chapter 2, the naval battle of Erineos predisposes the reader for the crushing of the Athenians at Syracuse,⁵¹ and in this way constitutes the opening of the narrative unit, which expands from the events at Syracuse to those at Cynos Sema. In other words, the collision at Erineos is the beginning, while the confrontation at Cynos Sema is the end of this plot. In this section, I argue that Thucydides consciously connects  Cf. Grethlein 2013, 93. On the way in which Thucydides makes the reader participate in the military events, see also Connor 1985, 6 ff; Morrison 2006a, 15.  On Book VIII, see Mewes 1868, 6.  See Chapter 2, pp. 75 – 78.

160

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

the two, as the common subject of the historian’s comment on both is what the Athenians consider a naval success. The outcome of the naval battle of Erineos was that three Corinthian ships were totally destroyed and seven Athenian ships were partly damaged, meaning that the Athenians lost no ships but caused the enemy to lose three. For anyone else this would have been considered a victory; nevertheless, in the minds of the Athenians the outcome was not serious enough to be viewed as a success. Thucydides comments that the Corinthians thought that they had won for the very same reason as to why the Athenians considered themselves to have been beaten, because the Corinthian losses were insignificant: […] they [i. e. the Corinthians] thought they had not been beaten for the same reason that the Athenians thought they had not won; the Corinthians supposed themselves victorious if not decisively beaten, and the Athenians thought themselves beaten if not decisively victorious.(7.34.7)

Through this ironical antithesis, Thucydides obviously focuses on the qualitative difference between the two sides. The Corinthians’ expectations of what they can achieve are negligible, while the Athenians have great expectations for themselves.⁵² This comment is not placed at this point of the narrative by coincidence. It is followed by the Athenian disaster at Syracuse, and the next most important naval battle is that of Cynos Sema. Therefore, as regards their placement, the former is the last one before they are crushed and the latter is Thucydides’ first response to the Sicilian naval battles. In his description of the confrontation at Cynos Sema, Thucydides makes a comment that is similar to the one he made on the naval battle of Erineos: The Athenians may have not sunk that many more ships than the number of their own losses (twenty-one to fifteen, only six more ships), but they still considered this to be a great victory, precisely because they regained their morale: “[…] the Athenians captured few ships […], and yet this sea battle gave them a victory at the best possible time” (8.106.1). The difference in Athenian morale between the two episodes is evident. We thus have one more narrative function of the naval battle of Cynos Sema: It marks a new psychological stage for the Athenians. Their confidence may have returned, but we have now moved on to a phase of the war, where the Athenians

 See Andrewes’ (HCT IV, 415) comparison between the Athenians’ attitude and the Corinthians’ words about them in 1.70.7: καὶ ἃ μὲν ἂν ἐπινοήσαντες μὴ ἐπεξέλθωσιν, οἰκείων στέρεσθαι ἡγοῦνται, ἃ δ’ ἂν ἐπελθόντες κτήσωνται, ὀλίγα πρὸς τὰ μέλλοντα τυχεῖν πράξαντες. Cf. COT III, 612.

3 The narrative role of the battle at Cynos Sema in the arrangement of the History

161

content themselves with less sizable outcomes. We can hardly disregard the fact that Thucydides stresses the same subject (the Athenians’ assessment of naval battles) in both the last naval battle before the Sicilian disaster and this at Cynos Sema. His purpose is the narrative transition to a new psychological stage, and the role of 8.106.1 in this transition is decisive. ii. The echoes of the battle of Naupactus in the battle of Cynos Sema. Almost twenty years before the naval battle of Cynos Sema, during another such battle at Naupactus, the Athenians had justified their fame in naval conflicts for the first time in the Peloponnesian war, belying in this way the Corinthians’ predictions that beating the Athenians at sea would not be so difficult. This victory led to the portrayal of the Athenians as a mighty naval power, an image that was to imprint itself upon the mind of the reader and remain with them throughout the History.⁵³ Romilly,⁵⁴ followed by Hunter,⁵⁵ associates the naval battle of Naupactus with those of Syracuse, considering the description of the gradual defeat of the Athenians in Book VII to be a narrative response to the naval battles of Patrae and Naupactus. At Naupactus the Peloponnesian efforts had focused on blocking the Athenians from the expanse of the open sea. However, they did not succeed in this and defeat was inevitable. At Syracuse, however, the Athenians lost this advantage, forced by the Syracusans to fight in the narrow Great Harbour. Moreover, the Syracusans reinforced their prows with thick layers of metal, which smashed the Athenian triremes. Romilly very aptly recognizes that in Sicily the Peloponnesians, accompanied by the Syracusans, achieved what they had failed to do at Naupactus. The French scholar thus believes that in the Sicilian account Thucydides purposely returns to the subject of the expanse of the sea, which is closely connected with the Athenians’ naval techniques. However, this interpretation remains incomplete if it does not also include the naval battle of Cynos Sema. In what follows, we will demonstrate how Thucydides restores Athenian prestige in his description of Cynos Sema by creating echoes of the naval battle of Naupactus. When reading the presentation of Cynos Sema, the reader recalls the Athenians’ dominance at Naupactus. The concluding comment itself (8.106.1– 2) betrays Thucydides’ judgment that the Athenians recaptured their fame with this battle. There now follows a comparative examination of the two naval battles. As I will demonstrate, Thucydides describes the naval battle of Cynos Sema in the

 Cf. Gomme HCT II, 233 – 234.  Romilly 1956, 152.  Hunter 1973.

162

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

same way as he does that of Naupactus, in order to reveal to the reader that the Athenians had never stopped being superior at sea. In both battles the Peloponnesians plan to block the Athenians from the open sea. At Naupactus, the Peloponnesians aimed to lure Phormio into the gulf of Rio-Antirio, in order to encircle him and fight against him in a narrow space (2.90.1: ἐς τὸν κόλπον καὶ τὰ στενά), where the Athenians would not be able to exploit their technique of διέκπλους. The Peloponnesians had hoped to do this by using the fastest of their ships on the right flank: βουλόμενοι ἄκοντας ἔσω προαγαγεῖν αὐτούς … ἔσω ἐπὶ τοῦ κόλπου … εἴκοσιν ἔταξαν τὰς ἄριστα πλεούσας⁵⁶ … ὅπως … αὗται αἱ νῆες περικλῄσειαν (2.90.1– 2). Similarly, at Cynos Sema they intended to block the Athenians’ right flank from the open sea, by using their best triremes against it, which were now positioned on the left flank (8.104.3: καὶ τῶν νεῶν αἱ ἄριστα πλέουσαι) – and simultaneously to push the enemy’s central flank toward the land: ἐπειγομένων δὲ τῶν Πελοποννησίων πρότερόν τε ξυμμεῖξαι, καὶ κατὰ μὲν τὸ δεξιὸν τῶν ᾿Aθηναίων ὑπερσχόντες αὐτοὶ τῷ εὐωνύμῳ ἀποκλῇσαι τοῦ ἔξω αὐτοὺς ἔκπλου (8.104.4). In both battles, the plan is only partly successful. Moreover, in both descriptions, the implementation of the orders is declared through cross-references between thoughts and deeds.⁵⁷ Phormio rushes into the gulf, in order to prevent the Peloponnesians from claiming Naupactus. The phrases ἄκων καὶ κατὰ σπουδήν and ἐντὸς τοῦ κόλπου (2.90.3 – 4) are the fulfillment of the ἄκοντας ἔσω προαγαγεῖν and ἐς τὸν κόλπον καὶ τὰ στενά/ἔσω ἐπὶ τοῦ κόλπου (2.90.1) respectively, and the sentences ὅπερ ἐκεῖνοι προσεδέχοντο (2.90.3) and ὅπερ ἐβούλοντο μάλιστα (2.90.4) link the plan with what preceded it. In the same way, at Cynos Sema the Peloponnesians succeed – at least at the center of the fleets – while the period κατὰ τὸ μέσον ἐξέωσάν τε ἐς τὸ ξηρὸν τὰς ναῦς τῶν ᾿Aθηναίων καὶ ἐς τὴν γῆν ἐπεξέβησαν (8.105.1) reminds us of the plan κατὰ δὲ τὸ μέσον ἐξῶσαι πρὸς τὴν γῆν. However, the plan is not fully followed, a detail which in both cases Thucydides underlines in order to stress the Athenians’ superiority. At Naupactus, eleven Athenian ships manage to escape the blockade and move out to the open sea (2.90.5). At Cynos Sema, the right flank of the Athenians under the command of Thrasybulus realizes the trap the enemy is preparing for them and, being faster, escape (8.104.4). Up to this point, in both descriptions, the reader has had the impression that the situation favors the Peloponnesians. Although their plan has not been fully  This term is used either for well-maintained ships with the best rowers or ships with a few passengers. All these factors are used to render a trireme fast and flexible. See Morrison/Coates/ Rankov 1986, 65 n. 4 and 152– 153. Cf. 1.48.4; 2.83.5; 7.31.5.  See Hunter 1971; Hunter 1973.

3 The narrative role of the battle at Cynos Sema in the arrangement of the History

163

accomplished, only they have been able to cause damage to their opponent’s fleet. At Naupactus, they have already destroyed the nine triremes they were able to encircle, while the ten Athenian ships that managed to escape are moored at Naupactus and do not intend to attack (2.91.1). Similarly, at Cynos Sema the Peloponnesians have succeeded in pushing the hostile triremes toward the land (8.105.1) and neither the right nor the left flank of the Athenians is able to offer any assistance to the blockaded ships of their middle (8.105.2). However, the Peloponnesians make the same mistake – they overestimate the situation. At Naupactus, the crews of their best ships, while pursuing the Athenian triremes, rejoice as if they have already won the battle (2.91.2). More importantly, one of these Peloponnesian triremes, a Lefcadian one, in order to reach the only Athenian ship that did not have time to flee to Naupactus, was carried away from the rest. The presence of a commercial ship in those waters sufficed to cause the reversal of the outcome of the naval battle. The Athenian trireme maneuvers around the commercial boat, moves against the Lefcadian one, and sinks it.⁵⁸ Watching this unexpected event, the Peloponnesians lose their nerve (2.91.4: ἀτάκτως διώκοντες διὰ τὸ κρατεῖν). These words remind us of their behavior at Cynos Sema (8.105.2: διὰ τὸ κρατήσαντες ἀδεῶς ἄλλοι ἄλλην⁵⁹ ναῦν διώκειν ἤρξαντο μέρει τινὶ σφῶν ἀτακτότεροι γενέσθαι). We should not conclude from this that Thucydides attributes the Peloponnesian defeats only to their own mistakes, presenting the Athenians as having a passive role. Besides, such a conjecture would be incongruous with his verdict on his compatriots’ naval virtues. On the contrary, the Athenians’ speed and capacity is stressed even more by the fact that they not only win the battle but manage to do this by reversing an almost definite outcome. At Naupactus, although from a certain point onwards the Athenians confine their moves mainly to defensive ones, they very quickly take advantage of the enemy’s disorder and win (2.92.1). Thucydides praises the contrast between their initial plan not to attack and their subsequent speed (ἀπὸ ἑνὸς κελεύσματος). In a similar way, at Cynos Sema the γνόντες (8.105.3) echoes the ἰδόντας of Naupactus. As soon as the Athenians on the right flank realize the enemy’s confusion in the middle, they change plan and suddenly attack, beat their enemies, rush to the center and win. In both cases, the schema of the reversal brings the Athenian superiority to the foreground. Moreover, this reversal is due to the same reasons and emerges from the same antitheses as between the Athenians’ initial intentions

 On the vividness of this episode and its connotations concerning the unexpectedness of war, see Connor 1985, 10 and Stahl 1966, 87– 91 respectively.  This phrase is here suggestive of disorder and panic. Cf. 2.4.4; 3.97.3.

164

Chapter 4 The battles of Miletus and of Cynos Sema

and the new ones that they implement with no hesitation and without the slightest delay. The speed of ἀπὸ ἑνὸς κελεύσματος⁶⁰ at Naupactus is echoed by the εὐθύς at Cynos Sema. The question is whether all these similarities are the result of the stereotypical nature of the Thucydidean descriptions or whether the historian deliberately associated the Cynos Sema description with that of Naupactus. The comment of 8.106.1– 2 speaks of the second option. According to the historian, the Athenians now realize that the Peloponnesians have not become a maritime power. At Cynos Sema, the latter make their usual mistakes, while the Athenians take full advantage of these faults as skillfully as they did at Naupactus twenty years before.⁶¹ The Cynos Sema description reestablishes the Athenians’ superiority in naval affairs, in that the reader here recalls the old sublime Athenians of the battle of Naupactus. It would be no exaggeration to say that Book VIII in its largest part is nothing more than the author’s continuous effort to prepare the reader for the Athenians’ naval victory at Cynos Sema. In the first narrative thread, all the echoes of Phrynichus’ speech are to be found in coincidental and unorganized naval battles, leading to the great showdown. The second thread, with all its cancelations, interruptions and reversals of plot, has the same narrative goal. All the sufferings of the Chians are exploited in order for us to realize that, sooner or later, the fleets had to confront each other. As soon as the Spartans realize this in the central culmination of ch. 60, from this point onwards all the discomforts of the Peloponnesian crews push the plot to its final resolution. And when the time at last comes for this collision at Cynos Sema, all these heterogeneous elements acquire a different meaning: The words of Phrynichus that the Athenians would win a naval battle only after cautious preparation are validated; the dozens of inconclusive little skirmishes find their culmination and at the same time their resolution; the whole atmosphere of low morale among the Athenians is lifted; last, the hopes of Athens’ enemies that they would soon defeat it are belied. Additionally, the naval battle is equally connected with the rest of the History: The foreshadowing generated in the naval battles of Syracuse that the Athenians would make a comeback is now fulfilled. For no other battle does Thucydides prepare us with so much energy, and so many chapters and techniques. The naval battle of Cynos Sema marks the end of the psychological aftermath of the Athenian disaster in Sicily and is at the same time the opening to a new narrative phase, a phase, however, that Thucydides unfortunately was not able to narrate

 HCT II, 232.  COT III, 1049.

Epilogue 1 The three traditional if: speeches – omissions and inaccuracies – documents Besides these three questions, there is also a fourth question of whether Thucydides would have changed the structure of the chapters we call Book VIII. Although my opinion on this matter is now more than clear, in order to facilitate the reader, a summary of the picture offered for the narrative arrangement of Book VIII is useful: In the first 24 chapters, Thucydides composes a revolt type-narrative with the Chians as the protagonists. After having belied the hopes of the enemies of Athens that it would be easy for them to dispose of its hegemony, through a retarding unit extending up to ch. 107, Thucydides also tries to belie the belief of many – including the Athenians themselves – that the Athenians have ceased to be a great sea power. This second account develops along two narrative lines: a) a series of confirmations of Phrynichus’ advice; and b) a thread of retardations that prepare the reader for the sea battle of Cynos Sema, the ultimate culminating recantation of the expectations of all the protagonists. Through the first thread, the author helps the reader to experience the defeatism of the Athenians themselves and the ostensible inadequacy of their fleet, while, in the second thread, he depicts the perplexities of the Peloponnesian fleet. The reader is forced to watch both threads unfolding through the protagonists’ eyes, in order to feel equally belied in the description of Cynos Sema, where the narration reaches its peak. The compositional plan suggested here ends in ch. 107, and from ch. 108 onwards Thucydides would very probably have abandoned the technique of retardation. To conclude, the narrative in Book VIII is complete and polished up to ch. 107. Our ignorance is confined only to the account that was to follow from ch. 108 onwards. With regard to the speeches, this subject has been purposely kept in the background of this study, given that it is the most hypothetical of all. As Kunle wrote on this matter: “Ignoramus et ignorabimus”.¹ Even the conclusion that there is a narrative plan in Book VIII cannot exclude the possibility that Thucydides may have added some speeches. The only answer that, I believe, could be given to this intractable issue is not whether and where the speeches would eventually have been composed but perhaps where they would not. As we saw in Chapter 1, given the general tendency of the author to avoid placing speeches within the rapid plot of the revolt type-narratives, we could perhaps  Kunle 1909, 81. DOI 10.1515/9783110533071-006

166

Epilogue

safely conclude that there would have been no speeches in the Chios narrative. They may perhaps equally have been avoided in the two digressions of ch. 45 – 54 and ch. 63 – 76. Given that the size of the two analepses significantly loosens the structure of the book, it seems doubtful whether Thucydides would have been inclined to dissociate his narration from its central goal through additional retarding elements such as speeches. Still, such speculations cannot but remain hypothetical. Apart from this, German scholars of the 19th and early 20th century as well as Andrewes have signaled in Book VIII many – in their opinion – suspect omissions as well as inaccuracies. These are, of course, two totally different cases. As for the omissions, as Erbse has very aptly pointed out, the governing thematic lines of the narrative plan in these chapters suffice to lead us to the conjecture that whatever additions, if made, would not have affected the central structure. Now, as far as the inaccuracies are concerned, this is indeed a strong argument that Thucydides would have changed some details. Had the historian had the time, the absence, for example, of some patronymics and the case of Phrynichus’ assassination would possibly have merited his closer attention. However, it is equally difficult to believe that potential amendments of this type would change in the least way the narrative organization of the text we possess. They would have been short additions for the purpose of providing information. We can reach safer conclusions on the treaty documents, which must be examined in relation to their counterparts in Books IV and V. Connor’s observation that Thucydides consciously included the documents of Book V in order to stress, through their contrast with the narrative, the hypocritical nature of contemporary diplomacy is apt. Concerning the three documents of Book VIII, we could likewise say that from a certain point of view they are harmonized with the narrative. I do not refer, of course, to the terms reflecting the Spartans’ hypocrisy on the Ionians’ future. Apart from Lichas’ objections, Thucydides does not seem to be interested in this subject anywhere else in Book VIII. Whether he would have elaborated on it in a hypothetical revision or not is a different question. In the preserved chapters of Book VIII, however, the terms that render the documents an integral part of the account, especially in the retarding unit of ch. 25 – 107, are those that allude to the funding of the Peloponnesian fleet by Persia. On the one hand, as Hornblower has observed, they create a development that unfolds from document to document. On the other hand, these terms are closely related with the goal of the plot, the constantly deferred decisive – and redemptive for the underpaid rowers – sea battle. The third document in particular intensifies the retarding result, because, according to Thucydides, Tissaphernes hastened to conclude it, his sole purpose being to deter the desperate

2 The narrative functions as a method

167

Peloponnesians from a determinative sea battle. As a result, this document is absolutely harmonized with the other delays.

2 The narrative functions as a method with which to unify the heterogeneous information We can hardly deny the fact that Book VIII is characterized by an unprecedented multi-level thematic division and by a ceaseless fragmentation of the field of action. Individuals, places, subjects, all of them are multiplied here. However, it is not the fields of action and the subjects but the narrative functions that cohere and arrange the narration. The Chians are the protagonists in the revolt type-narrative of ch. 1– 24, not because they are the central subject but because they are associated with the most important narrative functions: On a level of internal coherence, as we saw, most of the Historical Presents refer to the Chians. Their dominating role also stems from the typical motif of all the revolt episodes, the focus on the key city. On an internal level again, the narration ends at the comment on them, which, apart from framing the plot in a cyclical connection with ch. 2, fulfills, on the level of macro-structure, the foreshadowing in the comment on Brasidas in Book IV. Although the Chians continue to play, as a subject, the leading part in the rest of the book, other techniques render them secondary, as we saw in Chapters 2 and 3. An equally unifying role can be recognized in Phrynichus’ speech; it controls the disparity of the data by transforming incidents irrelevant to each other into recurring motifs-echoes. Even the narrative delay, although misleading at a first level of reading – given that it takes the plot away from its goal, generates countless fields of action and introduces many different subjects – on a second level, which is revealing of Thucydides’ true intentions, turns this chaotic spottiness into a harmonious uniformity: Alcibiades seems to be the factor that unifies the plot; the Persian satraps increase the number of the participants; the digressions disrupt the coherence, as the first one creates ostensible inconsistencies with its context while the second one gives the reader the impression that the main point of Thucydides’ interest in Book VIII is the domestic politics of Athens. The documents, moreover, seem equally to be irrelevant to their context. However, these are all governed by their common – retarding – function on a narrative level: Alcibiades and Tissaphernes constantly prevent the conduct of a major sea battle. The first digression freezes the rhythm and accentuates the suspense while also recapitulating all the previous postponements of the resolution. The second analepsis has a similar role and the third document is presented as being Tissaphernes’ means to obviate a decisive collision.

168

Epilogue

3 Book VIII and the History Let us return to the relationship of Book VIII with the rest of the work. Given that a whole determines its parts to the same degree as it is defined by them, we should examine the connections between Book VIII and the rest of the work by taking account of the reciprocity of such relationships. For, just as every other part of the History, Book VIII is related to the whole in such a way that its examination helps us to see the general compositional principles of the work, while, inversely, we can explain the book only if we use Thucydides’ way of writing as our interpretative prism. To consider Book VIII as different from the other books is the greatest hindrance for us in apprehending it, since such an attitude prevents us from revealing the arrangement of the book, from using it in order to understand the History and from placing it within the whole to which it belongs. Most importantly, the association of Book VIII with the two previous books needs to be discussed afresh. While many scholars believe that the book is inferior to Books VI and VII and that it is not smoothly connected to them, the results of the present study lead to different conclusions. As Romilly has demonstrated, the basic coherence technique in Books VI and VII is the unification of the heterogeneous data through specific governing lines. In ch. 6.96 – 7.9 all the events, transfers, persons and actions serve a single goal, to answer the question of whether the Athenians will manage to wall Syracuse before Gylippus’ arrival. And when the Spartan general arrives, the account in ch. 7.10 – 7.33.2 is governed by a new goal, namely to answer whether Gylippus will succeed in gathering an army against the Athenians. As soon as this goal is fulfilled, the narrative is unified by one further question on whether Demosthenes will arrive at Syracuse in time in order to reinforce the Athenians.² This is also the case in Book VIII. From ch. 25 onwards, everything is governed by an overall narrative goal, the possibility of a major naval battle. As readers we should constantly think of the general goal of the narrative, in order to understand the way in which the heterogeneous information in Books VI and VII is unified, something that Dewald seems aware of: “Because the Sicilian narrative comes to a conclusion, as readers we can see that it is clearly organized to form an interpretive whole.”³ In a similar manner, in Book VIII, from a certain point onwards all details seem disorganized, if we do not examine all the developments on the basis of the general governing line that these developments

 Romilly 1956. 23 – 28.  Dewald 2005, 154.

3 Book VIII and the History

169

serve, namely the possibility of a decisive clash. Paying special attention to Thucydides’ comments is the most effective way for us to understand the purpose of such extensive narrative units. According to Romilly, we realize that Gylippus’ arrival had been the governing goal of ch. 6.96 – 7.9 only when we read in ch. 7.2.4 that: “And he happened to have come at the critical moment when the double wall of seven or eight stadia in extent had already been completed by the Athenians down to the Great Harbour, except for a short stretch next to the sea, where they were still building. As for the rest of the encircling line, stones had already been dumped along the greater part of the stretch which ran to Trogilus and the outer sea, and it was left so, some parts half finished, other parts quite finished. So close had Syracuse come to destruction.” Only at this point do we understand the meaning of the previous account. Similarly, we understand that the following spatial fragmentation leads to the gathering of an army by Gylippus, when we read in ch. 7.33.2 that: “For already almost the whole of Sicily – except the Agrigentines, who were neutral, but the rest without exception who had before been watching the course of events – had united with the Syracusans and was giving them aid against the Athenians.” In a similar way, as we saw, in Book VIII the comment of ch. 60.3 “as neither fleet, however, advanced to attack the other, the Athenians arrived at Samos, and the Peloponnesians at Miletus, when they saw that it was no longer possible to bring help to Chios without a fight” enables us to understand that the narrative leads to a decisive naval battle and not to the culmination of the misfortunes of the Chians. Last, the recapitulative comment of ch. 106.1– 2 reveals that from the Sicilian disaster onwards everything leads to the battle of Cynos Sema. However, there is a significant difference between the Sicilian narrative and the Ionian account. In the first case, the goals are distinct not only in Thucydides’ comments but also because they are all already pre-decided by the protagonists themselves and are fulfilled in a single field of action, Syracuse. In contrast, in Book VIII no one has decided when and where a conclusive sea battle will take place. Moreover, the narrative goal is independent of the field of action and is always canceled, which is why this goal is hard to discern. The spatial fragmentation is, however, counterbalanced by the unification of the narrative thread. In the unit Sphacteria-Mantinea, the narrative line on the recovery of the Spartans is interrupted by other episodes:

170

Epilogue

The eventual comeback: the battle of Mantinea

Low morale Book III ch. 94-98

Book IV

ch. 3-41

Book V

ch. 55

[Interruption of the narrative thread]

ch. 57-65

ch. 56-57

The prelude to the great defeat: Aetolia

The great defeat at Sphacteria

ch. 66-75.3

The events suggestive of the low morale

The postponements of the final recovery

In contrast, in the Syracuse-Cynos Sema narrative thread, history unfolded in such a way that it offered Thucydides the opportunity to unify the narrative thread: The prelude to the great defeat: Naupactus

Low morale: the battle of Miletus and Phrynichus’ speech

Book VII

Book VIII

The events suggestive of the low morale: Echoes of Phrynichus’ : admonitions 1 d ea -thr sub ch. 25-107 sub -thr ead 2: The postponements of the ch. 1-24 final recovery: the retardation before the sea-battle of Cynos Sema ch. 25-27

ch. 34

ch. 35-87

The great defeat in Sicily

Samos episode

The eventual comeback: the naval battle of Cynos Sema

The basic difference between the two cases lies in the fact that in the Sphacteria-Mantinea thread the delineation of the low morale and the presentation of the facts that prove it are separated from the final parts of the thread, namely the postponements of the recovery and the comeback. In contrast, in the thread Syracuse-Cynos Sema all stages are narrated continuously, with the presentation of the facts that prove a low morale and the postponements constituting two parallel sub-threads leading to a single end:

4 Type-narratives and the penetration into the events

Book IV

171

Book V [Interruption of the narrative thread]

The events suggestive of the low morale

Book VIII

The postponements of the final recovery

The events suggestive of the low morale: Echoes of Phrynichus’ : ad 1 admonitions e r h -t sub sub -thr ead 2: The postponements of the final recovery: the retardation before the sea-battle of Cynos Sema

4 Type-narratives and the penetration into the events Cornford deemed the account in Book VIII “dull, and spiritless”. Thucydides “seems to grope his way like a man without a clue” of what he is relating.⁴ Yet, the presence of type-narratives in the book suggests exactly the opposite: In the introduction, we expressed the view that the typical character of the narrative presupposes many years of classification of the historical phenomena and events. The presence of type-narratives in Book VIII therefore permits us to argue that Thucydides had the time to penetrate the nature and the significance of the events of the Ionian war to such a degree that he was also able to create a classification for them. He chose which type-narrative matched with each unit of the book. For example, for the battles, he understood that the Athenian victory at Mantinea was yet another case where whoever underestimates his enemy fails. He also took into consideration the fact that the victory of the Ionians over the Dorians in a land battle belongs to those examples that prove the unexpected character of war, which is also stressed by the stylistic refinement of the comment itself. Concerning the battle of Cynos Sema, his opinion seems to have crystallized on the significance of the sea battle. This victory, although minor, restored the Athenians’ courage and thus marked a new psychological phase of war. He also paralleled this victory with the victory of the Spartans at Manti Cornford 1907, 244.

172

Epilogue

nea. On the other hand, the narrative strand consisting of the echoes of Phrynichus’ advice proves that the historian, while narrating the Ionian war, had already settled even on what tactic the Athenians should follow in that phase of the war. Thucydides had penetrated the significance of the Ionian war to such a degree that he also used it as the basis upon which he shaped his account of previous events, such as Brasidas’ activity and the battles at Syracuse. The similarity of the two narratives Sphacteria-Mantinea for the Spartans and SyracuseCynos Sema for the Athenians shows, if anything, that, in order to parallel the two cases, Thucydides must have analyzed the period of 413 – 411 BC, considering it to be a whole that leads to the sea battle of Cynos Sema. Moreover, if there are any grains of truth in my hypothesis that in the Chios narrative Thucydides deliberately foreshadows the failure of the Spartans at Cyzicus, then it would not be an exaggeration to believe that Thucydides had engaged in an in-depth interpretation of the Ionian war up to 406 BC. In general, the tight organization of Book VIII and its close articulation with the rest of the work show that Thucydides had an overall and fully consolidated view of the years of the Ionian war he narrated.

Bibliography Abbott, G.F. (1925), Thucydides, a Study in Historical Reality, London. Adcock, F.E. (1963), Thucydides and His History, Cambridge. Adeleye, G. (1974), “Critias: Member of the Four Hundred?”, in: TAPhA 104, 1 – 9. Adkins, A.W.H. (1975), “The Arete of Nicias: Thucydides 7.86”, in: GRBS 16, 379 – 392. Adorno, T.W. (20022), Aesthetic Theory, London / New York. Ahrensdorf, P.J. (1997), “Thucydides’ Realistic Critique of Realism”, in: Polity 30, 231 – 265. Aidonis, T. (1996), “Tissaphernes’ Dealings with the Greeks”, in: C&M 47, 89 – 108. Alberti, L.B. (1482), De re aedificatoria, Florence. Alker, H.R. (1988), “The Dialectical Logic of Thucydides’ Melian Dialogue”, in: APSR 82, 805 – 820. Allan, R. (2011), “The Historical Present in Thucydides: Capturing the Case of αἱρεῖ and λαμβάνει”, in: J. Lallot / A. Rijksbaron / B. Jacquinod / M. Buijs 2011, 37 – 64. Allison, J.W. (1984), “Sthenelaidas’ Speech: Thucydides 1.86”, in: Hermes 118, 9 – 16. — (1989), Power and Preparedness in Thucydides, Baltimore. — (ed.) (1990), Conflict, Antithesis, and the Ancient Historian, Ohio. — (1997), Word and Concept in Thucydides, Atlanta. — (2001), “Axiosis, the New Arete: A Periclean Metaphor for Friendship”, in: CQ 51, 53 – 64. — (2013), “The Balance of Power and Compositional Balance: Thucydides Book 1”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 257 – 270. Alty, J.H.M. (1982), “Dorians and Ionians”, in: JHS 102, 1 – 14. Anderson, J.K. (1991), “Hoplite Weapons and Offensive Arms”, in: V.D. Hanson 1991, 15 – 37. Andrewes, A. (1959), “Thucydides on the Causes of the War”, in: CQ 9, 223 – 239. — (1961), “Thucydides and the Persians”, in: Historia 10, 1 – 18. Arend, W. (1933), Die typischen Scenen bei Homer, Berlin. Arnold, P. (1992), “The Persuasive Style of Debates in Direct Speech in Thucydides”, in: Hermes 120, 44 – 57. Avery, H.C. (1999), “The Chronology of Peisander’s Mission to Athens”, in: CPh 94, 127 – 146. Babut, D. (1981), “Interprétation historique et structure littéraire chez Thucydide: Remarques sur la composition du livre IV”, in: BAGB, 417 – 439. — (1986), “L’ episode de Pylos-Sphactérie chez Thucydide: L’ agencement du récit et les intentions de l’ historien”, in: RPh 60, 59 – 79. Badian, E. (1990), “Thucydides and the Outbreak of the Peloponnesian War. A Historian’s Brief”, in: J.W. Allison 1990, 46 – 90. — (1999), “The Road to Acanthus”, in: R. Mellor / L. Tride 1999, 3 – 35. Bakker, E.J. (ed.) (1997), Grammar as Interpretation. Greek Literature in Its Linguistic Contexts, Leiden. — (2007), “Time, Tense, and Thucydides”, in: CW 100, 113 – 122. Bakker de, M. (2013), “Character Judgements in the Histories: their Function and Distribution”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 23 – 40. Bakker, S. / Wakker, G. (eds.) (2009), Discourse Cohesion in Ancient Greek, Leiden. Balot, R.K. (2001), Greed and Injustice in Classical Athens, Oxford. Barnard, M.A. (1980), Stasis in Thucydides: Narrative and Analysis of Factionalism in the Polis, Chapel Hill. Barrett, J.F. (1977), “The Downfall of Themistocles”, in: GRBS 18, 291 – 305. DOI 10.1515/9783110533071-007

174

Bibliography

Barthes, R. (1976), S/Z, Paris. Basset, L. (2009), “The Use of the Imperfect to Express Completed States of Affairs. The Imperfect as a Marker of Narrative Cohesion”, in: S. Bakker / G. Wakker 2009, 205 – 219. Bauslaugh, R.A. (1979), “The Text of Thucydides IV 8.6 and the South Channel at Pylos”, in: JHS 99, 1 – 6. Bearzot, C. (2004), “Lisandro tra due modelli: Pausania l’ aspirante tiranno, Brasida il generale”, in: C. Bearzot / F. Landucci Gattimoni 2004, 127 – 160. Bearzot, C. / Landucci Gattimoni, F. (eds.) (2004), Contro le ‘leggi immutabili’: gli Spartani fra tradizione e innovazione (contribute di storia antica vol. 2), Milan. Bedford, T.W. (2001), “The Tragic Reading of Thucydidean Tragedy”, in: RIS 27, 51 – 67. Bloedow, E.F. (1973), Alcibiades Reexamined, Historia Einzelschriften, Wiesbaden. — (1981), “The Speeches of Archidamus and Sthenelaidas at Sparta”, in: Historia 20, 129 – 143. — (1987), “Sthenelaidas the Persuasive Spartan”, in: Hermes 115, 60 – 66. — (1991), “Alcibiades: A Review Article”, in: AHB 5, 17 – 29. — (1992), “Alcibiades “Brilliant” or “Intelligent”?”, in: Historia 41, 139 – 157. Bodin, L. (1912), “Thucydide: genèse de son oeuvre”, in: REA 14, 1 – 38. — (1935), “Thucydide et la campagne de Brasidas en Thrace: remarques sur la composition de l’ exposé”, in: É. Privat 1935, 47 – 55. Booth, K. (19962), “Dare not to Know: International Relations Theory Versus the Future”, in K. Booth / S. Smith 19962, 328 – 350. Booth, K. / Smith, S. (eds.) (19962), International Relations Theory Today, Cambridge. Boucher, D. (1998), Political Theories of International Relations: From Thucydides to the Present, Oxford. Bowie, A.M. (1993), “Homer, Herodotus and the ‘Beginnings’ of Thucydides’ History”, in: H.D. Jocelyn / H. Hurt 1993, 141 – 147. Bowra, C.M. (1930), Tradition and Design in the Iliad, Oxford. Brunsdon, C. (1981), “Crossroads’ Notes on Soap Opera”, in: Screen, 22, 32 – 37. Brunt, P.A. (1952), “Thucydides and Alcibiades”, in: REG 65, 59 – 96. Budelmann, F. / Michelakis, P. (eds.) (2001), Homer, Tragedy and Beyond. Essays in Honour of P.E. Easterling, London. Cairns, F. (ed.) (2005), Papers of the Langford Latin Seminar 12, Greek and Roman Poetry, Greek and Roman Historiography, Liverpool. Calhoun, G.M. (1933), “Homeric Repetitions”, in: University of California Publications in Classical Philology 12, 1 – 26. Calligeri, D. (2002), “The Dorian-Ionian Distinction in Thucydides’ Books VI and VII”, in: Platon 52, 255 – 262. Campbell, B. / Tritle, L.A. (eds.) (2013), The Oxford Handbook of Warfare in the Classical World, Oxford. Canfora, L. (2006), “Thucydides in Rome and Late Antiquity”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 721 – 753. Carawan, E.M. (1989), “Thucydides and Stesimbrotus on the Exile of Themistocles”, in: Historia 38, 144 – 161. Carr, E.H. (1939), The Twenty Years’ Crisis, 1919 – 1939: An Introduction to Study International Relations, New York. Cartledge, P. / Debnar, P. (2006), “Sparta and the Spartans in Thucydides”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 559 – 587.

Bibliography

175

Cavallini, E. (ed.) (2002), Samo: storia, letteratura, scienza: atti delle giornale di studio, Ravenna, 14 – 16 novembre 2002, Roma. Cawkwell, G.L. (1989), “Orthodoxy and Hoplites”, in: CQ 39, 375 – 389. — (1997), Thucydides and the Peloponnesian War, London. Chène, O. (2000), “Le bataille de Symè (Thuc., VIII, 42 ; janv. 411 a.C.”, in: REG 113, 101 – 130. Chittick, W.O. / Freyberg-Inan, A. (2001), “ ‘Chiefly for Fear, Next for Honour, and Lastly for Profit: An Analysis of Foreign Policy Motivation in the Peloponnesian War”, in: RIS 27, 69 – 90. Christ, K. (ed.) (1986), Sparta, Darmstadt. Christodoulou, P. (2013), “Thucydides’ Pericles. Between Historical Reality and Literary Representation”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 225 – 254. Centanni, M. (2002), “Thuc. 8.21: Atene-Samo-Atene, prove tecniche di rivoluzione” in: E. Cavallini 2002, 293 – 304. Clark, M.T. (1993), “Realism Ancient and Modern: Thucydides and International Relations”, in: PSP 26, 491 – 494. Clark, M. (1995), “Did Thucydides Invent the Battle Exhortation?”, in: Historia 44, 375 – 376. Classen, C.J. (2005), “Thucydides on Politicians and Poleis”, in: PAA 80, 113 – 126. Clifford, O. (1994), The Humanity of Thucydides, Princeton. Cochrane, C.N. (1929), Thucydides and the Science of History, London. Cogan, M. (1981a), “Mytilene, Plataea, and Corcyra Ideology and Policy in Thucydides, Book Three”, in: Phoenix 35, 1 – 21. — (1981b), The Human Thing: The Speeches and Principles of Thucydides’ History, Chicago. Connolly, P. (19982), Greece and Rome at War, London. Connor, W.R. (1977), “A Post Modernist Thucydides?”, in: CJ 72, 289 – 298. — (1984), Thucydides, Princeton. — (1985), “Narrative Discourse in Thucydides”, in: M.H. Jameson 1985, 1 – 17. Conrad, B.R. (1926), “Hamlet’s Delay – A Restatement of the Problem.”, in: Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, 680 – 687. Corcella, A. (2006), “The New Genre and Its Boundaries: Poets and Logographers”, in A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 33 – 56. Cornford, F.M. (1907), Thucydides Mythistoricus, London. COT: Hornblower, S. (1991 – 2008), A Commentary on Thucydides, vols. I-III, Oxford. Crane, G. (1992), “The Fear and Pursuit of Risk: Corinth on Athens, Sparta and the Peloponnesians (Thucydides 1.68 – 71, 120 – 121)”, in: TAPhA 122, 227 – 256. — (1996), The Blinded Eye: Thucydides and the New Written Word, Lanham. Creed, J.L (1973), “Moral Values in the Age of Thucydides”, in: CQ 23, 213 – 231. Croix de Ste., G.E.M. (1954), “The Character of the Athenian Empire”, in: Historia 3, 1 – 41. — (1972), The Origins of the Peloponnesian War, London. — (2002), “The Helot Threat”, in: M. Whitby 2002, 190 – 195. Cüppers, F.J. (1884), De octavo Thucydidis libro non perpolito, Münster. Debidour, M. (2002), Les Grecs et la guerre: Ve-IVe siècles: de la guerre rituelle à guerre totale, Monaco. Debnar, P. (20044), Speaking the Same Language. Speech and Audience in Thucydides’ Spasrtan Debates, Ann Arbor. — (2011), “Rhetoric and Character in the Corcyra Debate”, in: G. Rechenauer / V. Pothou 2011, 115 – 130.

176

Bibliography

— (2013), “Blurring the Boundaries of Speech: Thucydides and Indirect Discourse”, in A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 271 – 285. Delebecque, E. (1967), Thucydide. Livre VIII, Ophrys. Desmond, W. (2006), “Lessons of Fear: A Reading of Thucydides”, in: CPh 101, 359 – 379. Dewald, C. (2005), Thucydides’ War Narrative. A Structural Study, Berkeley. Dover, K.J. (1973), Thucydides, Oxford. Doyle, M. (1990), “Thucydidean Realism”, in: RIS 16, 223 – 237. Dunn, F. (2007), Present Shock in Late Fifth-Century Greece, Ann Arbor. Dyson, M. (2002), “Thucydides and the Sandbar at Pylos”, in: Antichthon 36, 19 – 29. Eckstein, A.M. (2003), “Thucydides, the Outbreak of the Peloponnesian War, and the Foundations of International Systems Theory”, in: TIHR 25, 757 – 774. Edmunds, L. (1975), Chance and Intelligence in Thucydides, Cambridge. Edwards, M. W. (1975), “Type-Scenes and Homeric Hospitality”, in: TAPhA 105, 51 – 72. — (1992), “Homer and Oral Tradition: The Type-Scene”, Oral Tradition 7, 284 – 330. Eliot, T.S. (1920a), The Sacred Wood: Essays on Poetry and Criticism, London. — (1920b), “Hamlet and His Problems”, in: T.S. Eliot 1920a, 47 – 50. Ellis, J.R. (1978), “Thucydides at Amphipolis”, in: Antichthon 12, 28 – 35. Erbse, H. (1989), Thukydides-Interpretationen, Berlin / New York. Fabrizio, G. (1946), Contributo storiografico – Storico allo studio della Guerra deceleica, Milan. Falkner, C. (1995), “The Battle of Syme, 411 B.C. (Thuc. 8.42)”, in: AHB 9, 117 – 124. Fellner, T. (1880), Forschung und Darstellungsweise des Thukydides. Gezeigt an einer Kritik des achten Buches, Wien. Fenik, B. (1968), Typical Battle Scenes in the Iliad. Studies in the Narrative Techniques of Homeric Battle Description, Wiesbaden. Ferrario, S.B. (2013), “Reading” Athens: Foreign Perceptions of the Political Roles of Athenian Leaders in Thucydides”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 181 – 198. Finley, J.H. (1938), “Euripides and Thucydides”, in: HSCP 49, 23 – 68. — (1942), Thucydides, Oxford. Flory, S. (1988), “Πᾶσα ἰδέα in Thucydides”, in: AJPh 109, 12 – 19. Flower, H.I. (1992), “Thucydides and the Pylos Debate”, in: Historia 41, 57. Forde, S. (1989), The Ambition to Rule: Alcibiades and the Politics of Imperialism in Thucydides, Ithaca. — (1992), “Varieties of Realism: Thucydides and Machiavelli”, in: Journal of Politics 54, 372 – 393. — (1995), “International Realism and the Science of Politics: Thucydides, Machiavelli, and Neorealism”, in: ISQ 39, 141 – 160. Fornara, C.W. (1983), The Nature of History in Ancient Greece and Rome, Berkeley. Foster, E. (2010), Thucydides, Pericles, and Periclean Imperialism, New York / Cambridge. Fragoulaki, M. (2013), Kinship in Thucydides: Intercommunal Ties and Historical Narrative, Oxford. Francis, E.D. (1991 – 1993), “Brachylogia Laconica: Spartan Speeches in Thucydides”, in: BICS 38, 198 – 212. Frankel, B. (ed.) (1996), Roots of Realism, London. Franz, J.P. (2002), Krieger, Bauern, Bürger: Untersuchungen zu den Hopliten der archaischen und klassischen Zeit, Frankfurt. French, A. (1971), The Athenian Half-Century 478 – 431 B.C.: Thucydides I, 89 – 118, Sydney.

Bibliography

177

Fry, D.K. (1968), “Old English Formulaic Themes and Tyle-Scenes”, in: Neophilologus 52, 48 – 54. Funke, P. / Haake, M. (2006), “Theaters of War: Thucydidean Topography”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 369 – 384. Furley, W.D. (1990), “Natur und Gewalt-Die Gewalt der Natur. Zur Rolle der Natur und der Landschaft bei Thukydides”, in: Ktema 15, 173 – 182. Gainsford, P. (2001), “Cognition and Type-Scenes: the Aoidos at Work”, in: F. Budelmann / P. Michelakis 2001, 3 – 21. Gehrke, H.J. (2009), “Thukydides und die Geographie”, in: GeorgAnt 18, 133 – 143. Genette, G. (1988), Narrative Discourse Revisited, transl. by J. E. Lewin, Ithaka / New York. Giddens, A. (1990), The Consequences of Modernity, Stanford. Gilpin, R. (1981), War and Change in World Politics, Cambridge. Golfin, E. (2011), “Reflections on the Causes of Evil in Thucydides’ Work”, in: G. Rechenauer / V. Pothou 2011, 213 – 240. Gomme, A.W. (1937a), Essays in Greek History and Literature, Oxford. — (1937b), “Thucydides and the Battle of Mantineia”, in: A.W. Gomme 1937a, 132 – 155. — (1953), “The Interpretation of καλοὶ κἀγαθοί in Thucydides II,40,2”, in: CQ 47, 65 – 68. Goodhart, H.C. (1893), The Eighth Book of Thucydides’ History, London / New York. Grainger, J.D. (1999), The League of the Aitolians, Leiden. Grant, J.R. (1965), “A Note on the Tone of Greek Diplomacy”, in: CQ 15, 261 – 266. Grayson, C.H. (1972), “Two Passages in Thucydides”, in: CQ 66, 62 – 73. Greene, E.S. (1995), “The Critical Element in the Embarkation Scenes of the Odyssey”, in: GRBS 36, 217 – 230. Greenwood, E. (2006), Thucydides and the Shaping of History, London. Grethlein, J. (2010), The Greeks and Their Past: Poetry, Oratory and History in the Fifth Century BCE, Cambridge. — (2012), “The Use and Abuse of History in the Plataean Debate (Thuc. 3.52 – 68)”, in: J. Grethlein / C.B. Krebs 2012, 57 – 75. — (2013), “The Presence of the Past in Thucydides”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 91 – 118. Grethlein, J. / Krebs, C.B. (eds.) (2012), Time and Narrative in Ancient Historiography: The ‘Plupast’ from Herodotus to Appian, Cambridge. Gribble, D. (1998), “Narrator Interventions in Thucydides”, in: JHS 118, 41 – 67. — (2006), “Individuals in Thucydides”, in A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 439 – 468. Grote, G. (1907), A History of Greece: From the Time of Solon to 403 B.C., Condensed and Edited by J.M. Mitchell and M.O.B. Gaspari, London. Grundy, G.B. (1911), Thucydides and the History of his Age, London. Gundert, H. (1968), “Athen und Sparta in den Reden des Thukydides”, in: H. Herter 1968, 114 – 134. Gunn, D.M. (1970), Narrative Inconsistency and the Oral Dictated Text in the Homeric Epic”, in: AJPh 91, 192 – 203. Gustafson, L. (ed.) (2000), Thucydides’ Theory of International Relations: A Lasting Possession, Louisiana. — (2001), “Review of Thucydides’ Theory of International Relations: A Lasting Possession”, in: H&T 40, 290 – 291. Hackett, J.W. (ed.) (1989), Warfare in the Ancient World, London. Hainsworth, J.B. (1966), “Joining Battle in Homer”, in: G&R 13, 158 – 166.

178

Bibliography

Halliday, F. (19962), “The End of the Cold War and International Relations: Some Analytic and Theoretical Conclusions”, in: K. Booth / S. Smith 19962, 39 – 61. Hammond, N.G.L. (1945), “Naval Operations in the South Channel of Corcyra 435 – 433 B.C.”, in: JHS 65, 26 – 37. — (1952), “The Arrangement of the Thought in the Proem and in Other Parts of Thucydides’ I”, in: CQ 2, 127 – 141. — (1973), “The Particular and the Universal in the Speeches of Thucydides, with Special Reference to That of Hermocrates at Gela”, in: A. Stadter 1973, 49 – 59. — (1977), “The Meaning and Significance of the Reported Speech of Phrynichus in Thucydides 8,48”, in: K.H. Kinzl 1977, 147 – 157. Hansen, M.H. (1993), “The Battle Exhortation in Ancient Historiography. Fact or Fiction?”, in: Historia 42, 161 – 180. Hansen, M.H. / Nielsen, T.H. (eds.) (2004), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis: An Investigation Conducted by the Copenhagen Polis Centre for the Danish National Research Foundation, Oxford. Hanson, V.D. (1989), The Western Way of War: Infantry Battle in Classical Greece, with an Introduction by John Keegan, London. — (ed.) (1991), Hoplites: The Classical Greek Battle Experience, London / New York. — (2005), A War Like no Other: How the Athenians and Spartans Fought the Peloponnesian War, New York. Hawthorn, G. (2014), Thucydides on Politics: Back to the Present, Cambridge. HCT: Gomme, A.W. / Andrewes, A. / Dover, K.J. (1945 – 1981), A Historical Commentary on Thucydides, vols. I-V, Oxford. Hegel, G.W.F. (1956), The Philosophy of History, Kitchener. Heitsch, E. (2007), Geschichte und Personen bei Thukydides. Eine Interpretation des achten Buches, Berlin. Hellwig, P.H.M. (1876), De Thucydidei operis libri octavi indole ac natura, Halle. Hemmerdinger, B. (1948), “La division en livres de l’oeuvre de Thucydide”, in: REG 61, 104 – 117. Herter, H. (ed.) (1968), Thukydides, Darmstadt. Hirschfeld, N. (1996), “Trireme Warfare in Thucydides”, in: R.B. Strassler 1996, 608 – 613. Holzapfel, L. (1893), Doppelte Relationen im VIII. Buche des Thukydides, in: Hermes 28, 435 – 464. Hooker, J.T. (1974), “Χάρις and ἀρετή in Thucydides”, in: Hermes 102, 164 – 169. Hornblower, S. (1994), Greek Historiography, Oxford. — (20003), Thucydides, London. — (2004), Thucydides and Pindar. Historical Narrative and the World of Epinikian Poetry, Oxford. — (2006), “Thucydides and the Argives”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 615 – 628. — (2009), “Intellectual Affinities”, in: J.S. Rusten 2009a, 29 – 88. — (2011), Thucydidean Themes, Oxford. Hornblower, S. / Spawforth, A. / EIdinow, E. (eds.) (2012), The Oxford Classical Dictionary, Oxford. Howie, J.G. (1992), “Η ΑΡΙΣΤΕΙΑ ΑΠΟ ΤΟΝ ΟΜΗΡΟ ΕΩΣ ΤΟΝ ΞΕΝΟΦΩΝΤΑ”, in: Parnassos 34, 425 – 447 — (2005), “The Aristeia of Brasidas: Thucydides’ Presentation of Events at Pylos and Amphipolis”, in: F. Cairns 2005, 207 – 284.

Bibliography

179

Huart, P. (1968), Le vocabulaire de l’analyse psychologique dans l’oeuvre de Thucydide, Paris. Hunt, P. (2006), “Warfare”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 385 – 413. — (2007), “Military Forces”, in: P. Sabin / H. Wees Van / M. Whitby 2007, 108 – 146. Hunter, V. (1971), “Thucydides and the Historical Fact”, in: CJ 67, 14 – 19. — (1973), Thucydides the Artful Reporter, Toronto. — (1988/1989), “Thucydides and the Sociology of the Crowd”, in: CJ 84, 17 – 30. Hussey, E. (1985), “Thucydidean History and Democritean Theory”, in: HPTh 6, 118 – 138. Hyland, J.O. (2004), “Waiting for Tissafernes: Athens and Persia in Thucydides VIII”, in: Syll.Class. 15, 71 – 101. Immerwahr, H.R. (1973), “Pathology of Power and the Speeches in Thucydides”, in: P.A. Stadter 1973, 16 – 31. Inglesias, Z. (2008), “La argumentación en las arenges militares de Tucidides”, in: AC 77, 19 – 40. Jameson, M.H. (ed.) (1985), The Greek Historians, Literature and History, Papers Presented to A.E. Raubitschek, Stanford. Jarva, E. (2013), “Arms and Armor. Part I Arming Greeks for Battle”, in: B. Campbell / L.A. Tritle 2013, 395 – 418. Jerzykowski, A. (1842), Octavo historiae Thucydideae libro extremam manum non accessisse demonstratur, Breslau. Jocelyn, H.D. / Hurt, H. (eds.) (1993), Tria Lustra: Essays and Notes Presented to John Pinsent Founder and Editor of Liverpool Classical Monthly by Some of Ηis Contributors on the Occasion of the 150th Issue, Liverpool. Johnson Bagby, L.M. (1994), “The Use and Abuse of Thucydides in International Relations”, in: IO 48, 131 – 153. — (1996), “Thucydidean Realism: Between Athens and Melos”, in: B. Frankel 1996, 169 – 193. Jong de, I.J.F. (1991), Narrative in Drama: The Art of the Euripidean Messenger-Speech, Leiden. — (ed.) (2012), Space in Ancient Greek Literature, Leiden. Jongman, W. / Kleijwegt, M. (eds.) (2002), After the Past: Essays in Ancient History in Honour of H.W. Pleket, Leiden. Jordan, B. (2000), “The Sicilian Expedition Was a Potemkin Fleet”, in: CQ 50, 63 – 79. Kagan, D. (1974), The Archidamian War, Ithaca. — (ed.) (1975a), Studies in the Greek Historians: In Memory of Adam Perry, Cambridge. — (1975b), “The Speeches in Thucydides and the Mytilene Debate”, in: D. Kagan 1975a, 71 – 95. — (2009), Thucydides. The Reinvention of History, New York. Kagan, D. / Viggiano, G.F. (eds.) (2013), Men of Bronze: Hoplite Warfare in Ancient Greece, Oxford. Kallet-Marx, L. (1993), Money, Expense, and Naval Power in Thucydides’ History 1 – 5.24, Berkeley. — (1999), “The Diseased Body Politic, Athenian Public Finance, and the Massacre at Mycalessos”, AJPh 120, 223 – 244. — (2001), Money and the Corrosion of Power in Thucydides. The Sicilian Expedition and its Aftermath, Berkeley / Los Angeles / London.

180

Bibliography

— (2006), “Thucydides’ Workshop of History and Utility outside the Text”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 335 – 368. Katičić, R. (1957), “Die Ringkomposition im ersten Buche des thukydideischen Geschichtswerkes”, in: WS 70, 179 – 196. Kauppi, M.V. (1996), “Thucydides: Character and Capability”, in: B. Frankel 1996, 142 – 168. Kazazis, J.N. / Rengakos, A. (eds.) (1999), Euphrosyne. Studies on Ancient Epic and Its Legacy in Honor of D.N. Maronitis, Stuttgart. Kennan, G.F. (1985/1986), “Morality and Foreign Policy”, in: Foreign Affairs 64, 205 – 218. Kennell, N.M. (2010), Spartans: A New History, Chichester. Kinzl, K.H. (ed.) (1977), Greece and the Eastern Mediterranean in Ancient History and Prehistory: Studies Presented to Fritz Schachermeyron the Occasion of His Eighteenth Birthday, Berlin / New York. Kirby, J.T. (1983), “Narrative Structure and Technique in Thucydides VI-VII”, in: ClAnt 2, 183 – 211. Kitto, H.D.F. (1966), Poiesis: Structure and Thought, (Sather Classical Lectures vol. 36), Berkeley. Köhler, U. (1892), “Herakleides der Klazomenier”, in: Hermes 27, 68 – 78. Kokatz, N. (2001), “Moderating Power: A Thucydidean Perspective”, in: RIS 27, 27 – 49. Koller, H. (1951), “Praesens historicum und erzählendes Imperfect. Beitrag zur Aktionsart der Praesensstammzeiten im Lateinischen und Griechischen”, in: Museum Helveticum 8, 63 – 99. Konishi, H. (1970), “Thucydides’ Method in the Episodes of Pausanias and Themistocles”, in: AJPh 91, 52 – 69. — (1987), “Thucydides’ History as a Finished Piece”, in: LCM 12, 5 – 7. — (2008 – 2009), Power and Structure in Thucydides: An Analytical Commentary, vols. I-III, Amsterdam. Korab-Karpowicz, W.J. (2006), “How International Relations Theorists Can Benefit by Reading Thucydides”, in: The Monist 89, 232 – 244. Krentz, P. (2013), “Hoplite Hell: How Hoplites Fought”, in: D. Kagan / G.F. Viggiano 2013, 134 – 156. Krischer, T. (1971), Formale Konventionen der homerischen Epik, Munich. Krüger, K.W. (1832), Untersuchungen über das Leben des Thukydides mit einer Beilage: über den Demos Melite, Berlin. Kullmann, W. / Reichel, M. (eds.) (1990), Der Übergang von der Mündlichkeit zur Literatur bei den Griechen, Tübingen. Kunle, L. (1909), Untersuchungen über das achte Buch des Thukydides, Freiburg. Lallot, J. / Rijksbaron, A. / Jacquinod, B. / Buijs, M. (eds.) (2011), The Historical Present in Thucydides: Semantics and Narrative Function = Le présent historique chez Thucydide: Sémantique et function narrative, Leiden. Lamari, A.A. (2013), “Making Meaning: Cross-References and Their Interpretation in Thucydides’ Sicilian Narrative”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 287 – 308. Lamb, W.R.M. (1914), Clio Enthroned: A Study of Prose-Form in Thucydides, Cambridge. Lang, M. (1967), “Revolution of the 400: Chronology and Constitutions”, in: AJPh 88, 176 – 187. — (1995), “Participially Expressed Motivation in Thucydides”, in: Mnemosyne 48, 48 – 65. — (1996), “Alcibiades vs. Phrynichus”, in: CQ 46, 289 – 295. Lapini, W. (2003), La guerra ionica (Tucidide. Libro 8o), Genoa.

Bibliography

181

Lateiner, D. (1975), “The Speech of Teutiaplus (Thuc. 3.30)”, in: GRBS 16, 175 – 184. — (1985), “Nicias’ Inadequate Encouragement (Thucydides 7.69.2)”, in: CPh 80, 201 – 213. — (1989), The Historical Method of Herodotus, Toronto. Lattimore, R. (1939), “The Wise Adviser in Herodotus”, in: CPh 34, 24 – 35. Lattimore, S. (1998), Thucydides. The Peloponnesian War, Indianapolis / Cambridge. Lazenby, J.F. (1989), “Hoplite Warfare”, in: J.W. Hackett 1989, 54 – 81. — (2004), The Peloponnesian War: A Military Study, New York. Leimbach, R. (1985), Militärische Musterrhetorik. Eine Untersuchung zu den Feldherrenreden des Thukydides, Stuttgart. Lendon, J.E. (2000), “Homeric Vengeance and the Outbreak of Greek Wars”, in: H. van Wees 2000, 1 – 30. Lévy, E. (1983), “Les trois traits entre Sparte et la Grand Roi”, in: BCH 107, 221 – 241. Lewis, D.M. (1977), Sparta and Persia. Lectures Delivered at the University of Cincinnati, Autumn 1976 in Memory of Donald W. Braaden, Leiden. Lindemann, H. (1957), Griechische Grammatik II: Satzlehre, Dialektgrammatik und Metrik, Munich. Link, S. (2005), “Die spartanische Kalokagathia – nur ein böser Witz? Zur Deutung von Thuk. 4,40, 2”, in: Tyche 20, 77 – 86. Lintott, A.W. (1981), Violence, Civil Strife, and Revolution in the Classical City, 750 – 330 B.C., London. Liotsakis, V. (2015), “Texts of Religious Content in Thucydides and the Implied Ancient Reader”, in: RFIC 143, 278 – 317. Lippold, A. (1965), “Pausanias von Sparta und die Perser”, in: Rh.M. 108, 320 – 341. Lisle, R. (1977), “Thucydides 1.22.4”, in: CJ 72, 342 – 347. Lissarrague, F. (1990), L’autre Guerrier: Archers, peltastes, cavaliers dans l’imagerie attique, Paris / Rome. Llamosas, V.M. (2001), “El plano irracional externo in Tucidides: Τύχη, παράλογος, ἀνέλπιστος, ἀστάθμητος, αἰφνίδιος, ἀπροσδόκητος”, in: Gerión 19, 293 – 311. Lord, A.B. (1951), “Composition by Theme in Homer and Southslavic Epos”, in: TAPhA 82, 71 – 80. Luginbill, R.D. (1999), Thucydides on War and National Character, Boulder. — (2002), “Thucydides on Peloponnesian Strategy at Pylos”, in: AJAH 3 – 4, 39 – 57. — (2011), Author of Illusions. Thucydides’ Rewriting of the History of the Peloponnesian War, Newcastle. Luraghi, N. (ed.) (2001), The Historian’s Craft in the Age of Herodotus, Oxford / New York. — (2011), “Thucydides and Spartan Power in the Archaeology and Beyond”, in: G. Rechenauer / V. Pothou 2011, 185 – 198. Luschnat, O. (1942), Die Feldherrenreden im Geschichtswerk des Thukydides, Leipzig. MacDowell, D. (1963), “ΑΡΕΤΗ and Generosity”, in: Mnemosyne 16, 127 – 134. Macleod, C. (1983a), The Collected Essays of Colin Macleod, Oxford. — (1983b), “Thucydides and Tragedy”, in: C. Macleod 1983a, 140 – 158. Marincola, J. (1997), Authority and Tradition in Ancient Historiography, Cambridge. — (2007a), A Companion to Greek and Roman Historiography, vols. I-II, Oxford. — (2007b), “Speeches in Classical Historiography”, in: J. Marincola 2007a, 118 – 132. Marr, J. (1995), “Themistocles and the Supposed Second Message to Xerxes: the Anatomy of a Legend”, in: AClass 38, 57 – 69. Marshall, M.H.B. (1984), “Cleon and Pericles. Sphacteria”, in: G&R 31, 19 – 36.

182

Bibliography

Mathew, C.A. (2009), “When Push Comes to Shove: What Was the “Othismos” of Hoplite Combat?”, in: Historia 58, 395 – 415. McNeal, R.A. (1970), “Historical Methods and Thucydides I. 103. 1”, in: Historia 19, 306 – 325. Meiggs, R. (1972), The Athenian Empire, Oxford. Mellor, R. / Tride, L. (eds.) (1999), Text and Tradition: Studies in Greek History and Historiography in Honor of Mortimer Chamber, Claremont. Mewes, W. (1868), Untersuchungen ü ber das achte Buch der thukydideischen Geschichte, Brandenburg. Meyer, C. (1955), Die Urkunden im Geschichtswerk des Thukydides, Munich. Miller, A. (1998), “Thoukydides 4.30.4: Kleon, Demosthenes and Collusion over the Pylian Campaign?”, in: Mnemosyne 51, 443 – 445. Momigliano, A. (1960), Secondo contributo alla storia degli studi classici, Rome. Moorhouse, A.C. (1959), Studies in the Greek Negatives, Cardiff. Morgenthau, H.J. (1946), Scientific Man vs. Power Politics, Chicago. — (19542), Politics Among Nations: The Struggle for Power, New York. Morpeth, N. (2006), Thucydides’ War: Accounting for the Faces of Conflict, Hildesheim. Morrison, J.V. (2006a), Reading Thucydides, Columbus. — (2006b), “Interaction of Speech and Narrative in Thucydides”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 251 – 277. Morrison, J.S. / Coates, J.F. / Rankov, N.B. (1986), The Athenian Trireme: The History and Reconstruction of an Ancient Greek Warship, Cambridge. Müller, F.L. (1997), Das Problem der Urkunden bei Thukidides: Die Frage der Überlieferungsabsicht durch den Autor, Stuttgart. Müller, R. (1986), “Zum Verhältnis von narrativen und strukturellen Elementen in der antiken Geschichtsschreibung”, in: SStor 10, 25 – 35. Munn, M.H. (2000), The School of History: Athens in the Age of Socrates, Berkeley / Los Angeles. Murphy, T.M. (1992), “Lysias 25 and the Intractable Democratic Abuses”, in: AJPh 113, 543 – 558. Murray, H.A. (1961), “Two Notes on the Evaluation of Nicias in Thucydides”,in: BICS 8, 33 – 46. Nagler, M.N. (1974), Spontaneity and Tradition. A Study in the Oral Art of Homer, Berkeley. Nerantzis, Ι. (2001), Η Χώρα των Αιτωλών (Συμβολή στη Γεωπολιτική της Οργάνωση), Rethymnon. Nesselrath, H.G. (1992), “Beinahe Episoden” im griechischen und römischen Epos von Homer bis zur Spätantike, Stuttgart. Nicolai, R. (1998), “I discorsi in Tucidide: analisi storico-politica, paradigmaticità, integrazione nella diegesi, verosimiglianza”, in: Storiografia 2, 288 – 294. — (2001), “Thucydides’ Archaeology”, in: N. Luraghi 2001, 263 – 285. — (2007), “The Place of History in the Ancient World”, in: J. Marincola 2007, 13 – 26. — (2011), “Logos Didaskalos: Direct Speech as a Critical Tool in Thucydides”, in: G. Rechenauer / V. Pothou 2011, 159 – 170. Notopoulos, J.A. (1950), “The Generic and Oral Composition in Homer”, in: TAPhA 81, 28 – 36. Ober, J. (2006), “Thucydides and the Invention of Political Science”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 131 – 159. Oliva, P. (1971), Sparta and Her Social Problems, transl. by Iris Urwin-Lewitova, Prague. — (1986), “Die Helotenfrage in der Geschichte Spartas”, in: K. Christ 1986, 317 – 326.

Bibliography

183

Oost, S.I. (1975), “Thucydides and the Irrational. Sundry Passages”, in: CPh 70, 186 – 196. Orwin, C. (1994), The Humanity of Thucydides, Princeton. Palladio, A. (1965), The Four Books of Architecture, New York. Parry, A.M. (1958), “Logos and Ergon in Thucydides”, in: HSPh 63, 522 – 523. — (ed.) (1972), Yale Classical Studies: Studies in Fifth-Century Thought and Literature, Cambridge. — (1981), Logos and Ergon in Thucydides, New York. Patwell, J.M. (1978), Grammar, Discourse, and Style in Thucydides’ Book Eight, Philadelphia. Paul, G.M. (1987), “Two Battles in Thucydides”, in: EMC 6, 307 – 312. Pavlou, M. (2013), “Attributive Discourse in the Speeches in Thucydides”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 409 – 433. Pelling, C. (2009), “Thucydides’ Speeches”, in: J.S. Rusten 2009a, 176 – 187. Phillips, J.A. (1980), “WHY DOES HAMLET DELAY?-HAMLET’S SUBTLE REVENGE”, in: Anglia-Zeitschrift für englische Philologie 98, 34 – 50. Pires, F.M. (2006), “Thucydidean Modernities: History between Science and Art”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 811 – 837. Plant, I. (1992), “Thuc. VIII.48.5: Phrynichus on the Wishes of Athens’ Allies”, in: Historia 41, 249 – 250. Porciani, L. (2007), “The Enigma of Discourse: A View of Thucydides”, in: J. Marincola 2007, 328 – 335. Pothou, V. (2011), “Paralogos Polemos: Irrationality and War in Thucydides”, in: G. Rechenauer / V. Pothou 2011, 261 – 278. — (2013), “Transformation of Landscapes in Thucydides”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 167 – 178. Pouilloux, J. / Salviat, F. (1983), “Lichas, Lacédémonien, archonte à Thasos et le livre VIII de Thucydide”, in: CRAI 127, 376 – 403. Pouncey, R.P. (1980), The Necessities of War. A Study of Thucydides’ Pessimism, New York. Price, J.J. (2001), Thucydides and Internal War, Cambridge. — (2013), “Difficult Statements in Thucydides”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 435 – 446. Pritchard, D. (ed.) (2010), War, Democracy and Culture in Classical Athens, Cambridge. Pritchett, W.K. (1965a), Studies in Ancient Greek Topography, Berkeley. — (1965b), “Pylos and Sphakteria”, in: W.K. Pritchett 1965a, 6 – 29. — (1971), The Greek State at War vol. I, Berkeley / Los Angeles. — (1995), Thucydides’ Pentekontaetia and Other Essays, Amsterdam. Privat, É. (1935), Mélanges offerts à Octave Navarre/ par ses élèves et ses amis, Toulouse. Prenzel, K. (1903), De Thucydidis libro octavo quaestiones, Berlin. Proctor, D. (1980), The Experience of Thucydides, Warminster. Quinn, T.J. (1981), Athens and Samos, Lesbos, and Chios, 478 – 404 B.C., Manchester. Raaflaub, K.A. (2004), The Discovery of Freedom in Ancient Greece, transl. by Renate Franciscono, revised by the author, Chicago / London. — (2013), “Ktēma es aiei: Thucydides’ Concept of “Learning through History” and Its Realization in His Work”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 3 – 22. Radermaker, A. / Buijs, M. (2011), “A Tale of Two Involuntary Encounters: Linguistics and the Persuasive Function of the Historical Present in Two Thucydidean Battle Scenes (1.45 – 51 and 1.56 – 66)”, in: J. Lallot / A. Rijksbaron / B. Jacquinod / M. Buijs 2011, 115 – 138. Rahe, P.A. (1996), “Thucydides’ Critique of Realpolitik”, in: B. Frankel 1996, 105 – 141.

184

Bibliography

Rawlings, H.R. (1981), The Structure of Thucydides’ History, Princeton. Rechenauer, G. (2011), “Polis Nosousa: Politics and Disease in Thucydides – the Case of the Plague”, in: G. Rechenauer / V. Pothou 2011, 241 – 260. Rechenauer, G. / Pothou, V. (eds.) (2011), Thucydides – a Violent Teacher: History and its Representations, Göttingen. Reichel, M. (1990), “Retardationstechniken in der Ilias, in: W. Kullmann / M. Reichel 1990, 125 – 151. Rengakos, A. (1996), “Fernbeziehungen zwischen den thukydideischen Reden”, in: Hermes 124, 396 – 417. — (1999), “Spannungsstrategien in den homerischen Epen”, in: J.N. Kazazis / A. Rengakos 1999, 308 – 338. — (2006), “Thucydides’ Narrative: The Epic and Herodotean Heritage”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 279 – 300. — (20102), Το Χαμόγελο του Αχιλλέα: Θέματα Αφήγησης και Ποιητικής στα Ομηρικά έπη, Athens. — (2011), “Narrative and History: the Case of Thucydides”, in: G. Rechenauer / V. Pothou 2011, 49 – 60. Rengakos, A. / Tsakmakis, A. (eds.) (2006), Brill’s Companion to Thucydides, Leiden. Rhodes, P.J. (1987), “Thucydides on the Causes of the Peloponnesian War”, in: Hermes 115, 154 – 165. — (2007), “Documents and the Greek Historians”, in: J. Marincola 2007a, 56 – 66. Rijskbaron, A. (20023), The Syntax and Semantics of the Verb in Classicaal Greek: An Introduction, Amsterdam. Rogkotis, Z. (2006), “Thucydides and Herodotus: Aspects of Their Intellectual Relationship”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 57 – 86. Roisman, J. (1987), “Alkidas in Thukydides”, Historia 36, 385 – 421. Romilly de, J. (1956), Histoire et raison chez Thucydide, Paris. — (1963), Thucydides and Athenian Imperialism, transl. by Philip Thody, Oxford. — (2003), L’ invention de l’ histoire politique chez Thucydide, Paris. Rood, T.C.B. (1998), Thucydides. Narrative and Explanation, Oxford. — (2006), “Objectivity and Authority. Thucydides ‘ Historical Method”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 225 – 249. — (2012), “Thucydides”, in: I.J.F. de Jong 2012, 141 – 59. — (2013), “The Cylon Conspiracy: Thucydides and the Uses of the Past”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 119 – 138. Ros, J. (1968), Die variatio als Stilprinzip des Thukydides, Amsterdam. Rubincam, C. (1991), “Casualty Figures in the Battle Descriptions of Thucydides”, in: TAphA 121, 181 – 198. — (2001), “The Topography of Pylos and Sphakteria ans Thucydides’ Measurements of Distance”, in: JHS 121, 77 – 90. — (2003), “Numbers in Greek Poetry and Historiography: Quantifying Fehling”, in: CQ 53 (2), 448 – 463. Rusten, J.S. (ed.) (2009a), Thucydides, Oxford Readings in Classical Studies, Oxford. — (2009b), “Thucydides and His Readers”, in: J.S. Rusten 2009a, 1 – 28. Rutherford, R. (2007), “Tragedy and History”, in: J. Marincola 2007a, 504 – 514. Rutland, L. (1984), “Hope Springs Eternal. Disaster in Thucydides”, in: EMC 28, 15 – 22. Ruzé, F. / Christien, J. (eds.) (2007), Sparte: géographie, mythes et histoire, Paris.

Bibliography

185

Sabin, P. / Wees van, H. / Whitby, M., The Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Warfare, vol. I: Greece, the Hellenistic World and the Rise of Rome, Cambridge. Saїd, S. (2013), “Thucydides and the Masses”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 199 – 224. Samons, L.J. (2006), “Thucydides’ Sources and the Spartan Plan at Pylos”, in: Hesperia 75, 525 – 540. Scardino, C. (2007), Gestalt und Funktion der Reden bei Herodot und Thukydides. (Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 250), Berlin. Schwartz, E. (1919), Das Geschichtswerk des Thukydides, Munich. Schwinge, E.R. (1996), “Zu Thukydides’ historischer Erzählung”, in: Poetica 28, 297 – 326. — (2008), Komplexität und Transparenz. Thukydides. Eine Leseanleitung, Heidelberg. Shanske, D. (2009), Thucydides and the Philosophical Origins of History, Cambridge. Shapiro, H.A. (1975), “A Note on Pericles’ Last Speech”, in: Phoenix 29, 184 – 186. Sheets, G.A. (1994), “Conceptualizing International Law in Thucydides”, in: AJPh 115, 51 – 73. Shilleto, M.A.R. (1872), Thucydidis I, Cambridge. Shipley, G. (1993), “Review of Pritchett SAGT vi–vii”, in: CR 107, 131 – 134. — (1997), “‘The Other Lakedaimonians’: The Dependent Perioikic Poleis of Laconia and Messenia”, in: CPCActs 4, 189 – 281. Sicking, C.M.J. / Stork, P. (1997), “The Grammar of the So-Called Historical Present in Ancient Greek”, in: E.J. Bakker 1997, 131 – 168. Sieveking, F. (1964), “Die Funktion geographischer Mitteilungen im Geschichtswerk des Thukydides”, in: Klio 42, 73 – 179. Singor, H. (2002), “The Spartan Army at Mantinea and Its Organisation in the Fifth Century BC”, in: W. Jongman / M. Kleijwegt 2002, 235 – 284. Smith, D.G. (2009) “Alcibiades, Athens, and the Tyranny of Sicily (Thuc. 6.16)”, in: GRBS 49, 363 – 389. Sommer, K. (2006), Techne und Geschichte. Eine Diskursgeschichtliche Studie zu Thukydides, Bohn. Sonnabend, H. (2004), Thukydides, Hildesheim / Zürich / New York. Souza de, P. (ed.) (2008), The Ancient World at War: A Global History, London. Spence, I.G. (2002), Historical Dictionary of Ancient Greek Warfare, Lanham / Maryland / London. Stadter, P.A. (ed.) (1973), The Speeches in Thucydides: A Collection of Original Studies with a Bibliography, Chapel Hill. — (1993), “The Form and Content of Thucydides’ Pentecontaetia (1.89 – 117)”, in: GRBS 34, 35 – 72. Stahl, H.P. (1966), Thukydides. Die Stellung des Menschen im geschichtlichen Prozess, Munich. — (1973), “Speeches and Course of Events in Books Six and Seven of Thucydides”, in: P.A. Stadter 1973, 60 – 77. — (2009), “Speeches and the Course of Events in Books Six and Seven of Thucydides”, in: J.S. Rusten 2009a, 341 – 358. — (2013), “The Dot on the ‘I’: Thucydidean Epilogues”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 309 – 328. Stewart, D.J. (1966), “Thucydides, Pausanias, and Alcibiades”, in: CJ 61, 145 – 152. Strassler, R.B. (1988), “The Harbor at Pylos, 425 B.C.”, in: JHS 108, 198 – 203.

186

Bibliography

— (1996), The Landmark Thucydides. A Comprehensive Guide to the Peloponnesian War, New York. Stroud, R.S. (1994), “Thucydides and Corinth”, in: Chiron 24, 267 – 304. Tamiolaki, M. (2013), “Ascribing Motivation in Thucydides. Between Historical Research and Literary Representation”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 41 – 72. Taylor, M.C. (2010), Thucydides, Pericles, and the Idea of Athens in the Peloponnesian War, Cambridge / New York. Tompkins, D.P. (1972), “Stylistic Characterization in Thucydides: Nicias and Alcibiades”, in: A.M. Parry 1972, 181 – 214. — (2013), “The Language of Pericles”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 447 – 464. Trundle, M. (2010), “Light Troops in Classical Athens”, in: D. Pritchard 2010, 139 – 160. Tsagarakis, O. (1979), “Type-Scenes and Narrative Inconsistencies in Homer”, in: GB 8, 23 – 48. — (1982), Form and Content in Homer, Wiesbaden. Tsakmakis, A. (1995), Thukudides über die Vergangenheit, Tübingen. — (2006), “Leaders, Crowds, and the Power of the Image: Political Communication in Thucydides”, in: A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 161 – 187. Tsakmakis, A. / Tamiolaki, M. (eds.) (2013), Thucydides between History and Literature, Boston / Berlin. Tsakmakis, A. / Themistokleous, C. (2013), “Textual Structure and Modality in Thucydides’ Military”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 391 – 408. Tsopanakis, A.G. (1986), “καὶ δι’ ἐλαχίστου (καιροῦ τύχης ἅμα ἀκμῇ), Thuk. 2.42.4)”, in: Gymnasium 93, 164 – 177. Van Wees, H. (ed.) (2000), War and Violence in Ancient Greece, Swansea. — (2008), “War in Archaic and Classical Greece”, in: P. de Souza 2008. Vickers, M. (1999), “Alcibiades and Melos: Thucydides 5.84 – 116”, in: Historia 3, 265 – 281. Virtanen, T. (ed.) (2004), Approaches to Cognition through Text and Discourse, Berlin / New York. Vlassopoulos, K. (2007), Unthinking the Greek Polis: Ancient Greek History beyond Eurocentrism, Cambridge. Von Fritz, K. (1967), Die Griechische Geschichtsschreibung, vols. I-II, Berlin. Wade-Gery, H.T. (1952), Essays in Greek History, Oxford. Walker, P.K. (1957), “The Purpose and Method of ‘The Pentekontaetia’ in Thucydides, Book I”, in: CQ 7, 27 – 38. Waltz, K. (2011), Θεωρία διεθνούς πολιτικής, transl. by Κ. Κoliopoulos, Athens. Wankel, H. (1961), Καλὸς καὶ ἀγαθός, Würzburg. Wårvik, B. (2004), “What is Foregrounded in Narrative? Hypotheses for the Cognitive Basis of Foregrounding”, in: T. Virtanen 2004, 99 – 122. Wassermann, F.M. (1956), “Post-Periclean Democracy in Action: The Mytilenaean Debate”, in: TAPhA 87, 27 – 41. Watts-Tobin, A. (2001), “Focalisations and Voluntary Intervention in Thucydides”, in: Ramus 30, 89 – 110. Wekowski, M. (2013), “In the Shadow of Pericles: Athens’ Samian Victory and the Organisation of the Pentekontaetia in Thucydides”, in: A. Tsakmakis / M. Tamiolaki 2013, 153 – 166. Weil, R. (1988), “Stratéges, soldats, taxiarques (Thucydide IV, 4.1)”, in: RPh 62, 129 – 133.

Bibliography

187

Welch, D.A. (2003), “Why International Relations Theorists Should Stop Reading Thucydides”, in: RIS 29, 301 – 319. Wenskus, O. (1986), “Thukydides VIII, 29 – 60: Die Chronologie des Kriegswinters 412/411”, in: Hermes 114, 245 – 247. Westlake, H.D. (1941), “Nicias in Thucydides”, in: CQ 35, 58 – 65. — (1955), “Thucydides and the Pentekontaetia”, in: CQ 5, 53 – 67. — (1956), “Phrynichos and Astyochos (Thucydides VIII. 50 – 1)”, in: JHS 76, 99 – 104. — (1968), Individuals in Thucydides, London. — (1977), “Thucydides on Pausanias and Themistocles – A Written Source?”, in: CQ 27, 95 – 110. — (1980), “Thucydides, Brasidas, and Clearidas”, in: GRBS 21, 333 – 339. — (1985), “The Influence of Alcibiades on Thucydides, Book 8”, in: Mnemosyne 38, 93 – 108. Whitby, M. (ed.) (2002), Sparta, New York / Routledge. White, H. (1973), Metahistory. The Historical Imagination in Nineteenth-Century Europe, Baltimore / London. Wiesenhöfer, J. (2006), “ … Keeping the Two Sides Equal”: Thucydides, the Persians and the Peloponnesian War”, in A. Rengakos / A. Tsakmakis 2006, 657 – 667. Wilamowitz, U. (1908), “Thukydides VIII”, in: Hermes 43, 578 – 618. Will, E. (1956), Doriens et Ioniens: Essai sur la valeur du critère ethnique appliqué à l’ etude de l’ histoire et de la civilization grecques, Paris. Will, W. (2003), Thukydides und Perikles. Der Historiker und sein Held, Bonn. Williams, M.F. (1998), Ethics in Thucydides. The Ancient Simplicity, London / New York / Oxford. Wilson, J.B. (1979), Pylos 425 BC. A Historical and Topographical Study of Thucydides’ Account of the Campaign, Warminster. — (1987), Athens and Corcyra: Strategy and Tactics in the Peloponnesian War, Bristol. Wilson, G.R. (1989), “Shifting and Permanent Philia in Thucydides”, in: G&R 36, 147 – 151. Winnington-Ingram, R.P. (1965), “ΤΑ ΔΕΟΝΤΑ ΕΙΠΕΙΝ, Cleon and Diodotus”, in: BICS 12, 70 – 82. Wohl, V. (1999), “The Eros of Alcibiades”, in: CA 18, 349 – 385. Woodcock, E.C. (1928), “Demosthenes, Son of Alcisthenes”, in: HSPh 39, 93 – 108. Woodhouse, W.J. (1933), King Agis of Sparta and his Campaign in Arkadia in 418 BC, Oxford. Wylie, G. (1992/1993), “Brasidas – Great Commander or Whiz-Kid ?”, in: QUCC 41, 75 – 95. — (1993), “Demosthenes the General, Protagonist in a Greek Tragedy?”, in: G&R 40, 20 – 30. Zumbrunnen, J. (2008), Silence and Democracy: Athenian Politics in Thucydides’ History, Pennsylvania.

Index locorum Aristotle Ath. 34.1 172 n. 118 Diodorus Siculus 13.52.3 – 53.4 72 Diogenes Laertius 2.57 2 n. 7 Dionysius of Halicarnassus Th. 16 2 n. 7 Euripides Ph. 721 735 746

60 n. 111 60 n. 111 61 n. 111

Homer Od. 22.200 – 240 120 n. 11 Lycurgus Leocr. 113

100 n. 76

Marcellinus Vit. Thuc. 32 2 n. 5 43 2 n. 7, 4 n. 16 Pausanias 1.23.9 2 n. 5 Philochorus F 139 72 Plutarch Cim. 4.2 2 n. 5

Thucydides 1.6.1 1.15.2 1.19 1.22.4 1.23 1.23.4 1.29.2 – 5 1.30.2 1.31.1 – 44.3 1.45 – 55 1.45 1.46.3 – 4 1.46.1 1.47 – 51.4 147.1 1.48.1 1.48.2 – 3 1.48.4 1.49 1.49.1 – 3 1.49.3 1.49.4 – 7 1.49.4 1.49.7 1.50.1 1.50.2 1.54.1 1.55.1 1.56 – 65 1.56.2 1.57.1 1.57.4 1.57.6 1.58.1 1.60.1 1.61.3 – 4 1.61.3 1.62 – 63 1.62.1 1.62.3 1.62.5 1.63.1 1.64.1

145 n. 14 58 21 14 154 n. 36 40 146 n. 16 142 n. 1 31 n. 37 147 n. 22, 148 149 157 156 157 158 156 158 162 n. 56 150 149 149, 150 n. 29 149 149 158 148, 150 n. 29 148, 154 n. 36 44 142 n. 1 21, 25 28 30 28 30 29 28 157 n. 43 30 147 n. 22 157 n. 43 158 n. 48 158 n. 47 30 n. 34, 158 n. 48 28

Index locorum

1.70.2 – 4 1.70.4 1.70.7 1.73 – 77 1.75.1 1.78.1 – 3 1.79.2 1.80.1 1.86.1 – 6 1.86.3 1.87.6 1.95 1.116.1 1.117.1 1.118.2 1.122 1.135 – 138 1.138.3 – 6 1.145 1.146 2.1 2.2 – 6 2.2.1 2.4.4 2.5.7. 2.7 – 9 2.8.1 2.8.4 2.8.5 2.9 2.11.3 2.11.4 2.15 – 16.1 2.18.1 – 2 2.19.1 2.19.2 2.22 2.22.2 – 3 2.25.3 2.33.3 2.40.3 2.40.4 – 5 2.42 – 43 2.56.5 2.56.5 2.58.3 2.59 – 65

100 n. 102 59 160 n. 52 20 144 60 61 61 61 61 40 58 n. 100 92 n. 87 145 n. 14 58 20, 144 n. 9 116 n. 33 36 46 24 n. 22 24 n. 22 147 n. 22 40 163 n. 59 142 n. 1 156 60 61 n. 113, 83 n. 62 61 21 147 n. 17 145 n. 14 53 n. 84 156 n. 40 73 n. 33, 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 45 147 n. 22 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 144 145 n. 14 62 n. 116 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 45

2.59 2.59.1 2.59.2 2.61.3 2.62.4 2.65 2.65.5 – 13 2.68 2.68.6 – 9 2.68.9 2.70.1 2.77.2 2.79.2 – 7 2.79.5 2.79.6 2.79.7 2.80 – 82 2.80.1 2.80.8 2.81.4 2.81.6 2.82 – 87 2.82 2.83 – 92 2.83 – 84 2.83 2.83.1 2.83.2 – 3 2.83.3 2.83.5 2.84.4 – 86.4 2.84.4 2.85.1 2.85.3 2.86.1 2.87.5 2.89.1 2.89.7 2.90.1 – 2 2.90.1 2.90.3 – 4 2.90.5 2.91 – 92 2.91.1 2.91.2 2.91.4 2.92.1

46 119 n. 43 44 54 n. 87 145 n. 14 49 n. 72 36 41 – 42 42 142 n. 1 119 n. 43 73 n. 33 147 n. 22 158 n. 48 72 n. 30 142 n. 1 21, 26 26 26 145 158 n. 48 54 n. 87 142 n. 1 27 147 27 70 n. 13 157 – 158 156 150 n. 29, 162 n. 56 157 142 n. 1 147 156 156 147 147 147, 150 n. 29 162 162 158, 162 162 147 163 163 163 158, 163

189

190

Index locorum

2.92.6 142 n. 1 2.92.7 70 n. 13 2.94.3 142 n. 1 3.1.3 142 n. 1 3.2 – 19 21, 26 3.2.3 29 – 30, 30 n. 32 3.3.1 26, 28, 30 3.4.3 28 3.4.5 29 3.5.2 30, 142 n. 1 3.7.5 142 n. 1 3.10.4 28 3.11.2 28 3.11.6 28 3.12.1 28 3.12.3 30 3.13.1 28, 30 3.13.7 26 3.14.2 28 3.16.2 54 n. 87 3.18.1 142 n. 1 3.18.2 142 n. 1 3.20.1 119 n. 43 3.25 – 51 21, 26 3.27.1 119 n. 43 3.29.1 70 n. 13 3.33.2 28 3.37 – 48 20 3.39.2 145 n. 14 3.42.1 62 3.51.4 142 n. 1 3.52.1 119 n. 43 3.76 157 3.77 – 78 148 3.77.1 156 3.77.3 158 3.79.2 142 n. 1 3.82.1 21 3.82.2 14, 45 3.82.3 45 3.82.4 – 7 45 3.82.8 45 3.83.4 145 n. 14, 147 n. 18 3.91.5 142 n. 1 3.94.3 – 5.75.1 13, 15 3.94 – 98 67, 69 3.94 – 96.2 156 n. 40

3.94.2 – 3 3.94.4 3.95 – 96 3.95.3 3.96.3

69 n. 9 69 n. 10, 70 157 n. 43 70 69 n. 8, 71, 156 n. 40, 158 n. 47 3.97.1 69 n. 8 3.97.2 70 – 71 3.97.3 69, 71 – 72, 72 n. 29, 163 n. 59 3.98.1 70, 72 3.98.2 70, 73 3.98.3 – 4 73 3.98.4 74 n. 37 3.98.5 142 n. 1 3.101 – 102 74 3.103.1 142 n. 1 3.103.3 142 n. 1 3.105 – 114 67 3.106.1 – 3 157 n. 43 3.106.1 158 n. 47 3.107.2 – 4 156 n. 40 3.108.1 – 3 158 n. 48 3.108.3 142 n. 1 3.111.4 142 n. 1 3.112.8 142 n. 1 3.113.6 154 n. 36 3.115.5 – 6 24 n. 22 3.115.6 142 n. 1 4.2.2 24 n. 22 4.3 – 41 37 4.3 – 5 67 4.3.1 66 4.3.2 79 4.4.3 79 4.6 – 22 67 4.6.2 37 4.7 37 4.8.1 37 4.8.4 156 n. 40 4.8.6 79 4.9.1 158 n. 47 4.9.2 79 n. 53 4.10.3 79 4.10.4 79 4.11.3 – 12.2 79, 83 4.12.2 83

Index locorum

4.12.3

82, 150 – 151, 153, 154 nn. 34, 36 and 37 4.13.3 158 n. 47 4.14.2 83, 87, 158 n. 48 4.14.3 82 – 83, 150 – 151, 153, 154 nn. 34, 36 and 37 4.17.4 81 4.18.2 81 4.18.3 81 4.18.4 81 4.18.5 81 4.23 – 41 67 4.25.2 142 n. 1 4.25.6 142 n. 1 4.25.9 – 11 158 n. 48 4.25.11 142 n. 1 4.29.3 79 4.32 74 4.32.3 – 4 80 4.32.4 72 n. 29 4.33.1 – 34.3 83 4.33.1 – 2 80 4.33.2 – 34.1 72 4.33.1 74 4.33.2 73, 79 4.34.2 – 3 80 4.34.2 80 4.34.3 80 4.36.2 158 n. 48 4.36.3 80 4.39.3 142 n. 1 4.40.1 – 2 150 – 151, 154 nn. 34 and 37 4.40.1 68, 150 – 151, 154 n. 36 4.40.2 68 4.42.3 158 n. 47 4.44.6 142 n. 1 4.55 85 – 87 4.55.1 – 4 54 n. 87 4.55.1 85, 87 4.55.2 – 4 85 4.56 – 57 86 – 87 4.56 86 4.56.1 86 – 87, 142 n. 1 4.56.2 87 4.57 88 4.57.2 87 4.57.3 142 n. 1

4.66.1 119 n. 43 4.68.3 142 n. 1 4.72.4 142 n. 1 4.78 – 88 21, 26 4.79.2 28 – 29, 57 4.80 – 81 84 n. 65 4.81 49 n. 72 4.81.2 – 3 46 – 59 4.81.3 59 4.82 – 83 57 4.83.1 57 4.83.6 57 4.84 57 4.84.2 28 4.88 57 4.88.1 28 4.91 157 n. 43, 158 n. 47 4.93.1 156 n. 40, 157 n. 43 4.93.2 158 n. 47 4.97 142 n. 1 4.100.5 142 n. 1 4.102 – 116 21, 26 4.104.5 30 4.105.1 28 n. 29, 30 4.106.1 28, 50 4.107.2 142 n. 1 4.108 84 n. 65 4.108.1 – 3 26 4.108.1 26, 28 4.108.2 56 4.108.3 29, 56 n.92 4.108.4 55 4.108.5 56 4.108.6 29, 55, 56 n. 91 4.109.5 51 4.113.2 – 3 142 n. 1 4.114.3 56 4.116.2 142 n. 1 4.117 84 n. 65 4.117.3 – 119.3 40 n. 57 4.120.3 56 4.124.4 147 n. 22 4.125.1 142 n. 1 4.126 – 128 147 4.128.3 142 n. 1 4.129.5 142 n. 1 4.130.6 142 n. 1

191

192

Index locorum

4.130.7 4.131.3 4.134.2 4.135.1 5.3.6 5.6.3 5.6.4 – 8.2 5.8.1 5.8.4 5.9.3 5.10.1 5.10.2 – 3 5.10.5 5.10.11 5.11.3 5.14 – 16 5.17.2 – 20.1 5.20.1 5.22.3 – 24.2 5.24.2 5.25 – 85 5.27 – 56 5.29.1 5.29.2 5.29.3 5.30.1 5.31.6 5.32.1 – 2 5.32.3 – 4 5.32.3 5.32.4 5.33.2 5.33.3 5.38.3 5.39 5.40.1 – 2 5.40.1 5.40.3 5.44.3 5.46.5 – 48.1 5.54.1 5.55 5.55.3 5.56.4 5.57 – 65 5.57 – 60 5.57

142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 158 n. 47 156 n. 40, 157 n. 43 158 n. 47 145 n. 14 144, 145 n. 14, 146, 147 n. 18 156 n. 40 158 n. 47 158 n. 47 51 142 n. 1 84 n. 65 40 n. 57 41 40 n. 57 41 21 104 – 105 28 26 28 30 37 37 26 26, 37 28 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 28 24 n. 22 24 n. 22 28 28 28 40 n. 57 110 n. 13 84 110 n. 13 156 105 105, 110 105

5.57.1 5.58.1 5.58.2 5.59.3 – 4 5.59.3 5.59.4 – 60.6 5.59.4 – 60.1 5.59.4 – 5 5.60.1 5.60.2 – 6 5.60.2 – 5 5.60.2 – 4 5.60.2 5.60.3 5.60.4 5.60.5 – 6 5.60.5 5.60.6 5.61.5 5.63 – 65 5.63.3 5.63.4 5.64.1 5.64.2 5.64.3 – 5 5.65.1 5.65.2 5.65.3 5.65.5 5.66 – 74 5.66.1 5.66.3 – 67.1 5.69.1 5.69.2 5.70 5.73.2 – 3 5.74.1 5.75 5.75.2 5.75.3 5.76.3 – 78 5.78 5.83.2 5.115.4 6.7.1 – 2 6.11.5 6.15.3

30, 106, 109 – 110 107 107 53 n. 86 107 108 107 – 108 107 107 – 108 107 53 n. 86 108 107, 109 108, 154 n. 36 108 108 108, 110 109 28, 119 n. 43 105, 108, 110 100 n. 102 109 109 109 157 n. 43 109, 157 n. 43, 158 n. 47 110 110 110 105 157 n. 43, 158 n. 47 99 99 99 n. 99 99, 144 158 n. 48 154 n. 36 105 142 n. 1 99 – 100 40 n. 57 40 n. 57 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 156 n. 40 145 49

Index locorum

6.15.4 44 6.24 – 26 156 6.31.1 – 2 154 n. 36 6.33.3 145n. 14, 147 n. 18 6.34.9 145 n. 14 6.35.1 145 6.48 88 n. 73 6.49.2 145 n. 14 6.52.2 142 n. 1 6.62.3 142 n. 1 6.63 156 n. 40 6.63.2 145 n. 14 6.65.1 157 n. 43 6.65.2 – 3 158 n. 47 6.67 – 71 145 6.68.1 156 n. 40 6.70.4 142 n. 1 6.71.1 142 n. 1 6.94.2 142 n. 1 6.96 – 7.9 168 – 169 6.97.4 142 n. 1 6.97.5 142 n. 1 6.101.6 – 102.1 158 n. 48 7.2.3 142 n. 1 7.2.4 169 7.4.3 158 n. 47 7.8 ff. 131 n. 71 7.10 – 33.2 168 7.22.1 156 7.23.1 158 n. 48 7.23.4 142 n. 1 7.25.3 142 n. 1 7.25.4 142 n. 1 7.29 ff. 131 n. 71 7.29.5 154 n. 36 7.30.3 154 n. 36 7.31.2 142 n. 1 7.31.5 162 n. 56 7.34 – 8.107 13, 15 7.34 66 7.34.5 76 7.34.7 44, 160 7.34.8 142 n. 1 7.36 – 41 77 7.36 77, 79 7.36.2 156 7.36.4 150 n. 29

7.36.5 7.37.3 7.38.3 7.40.3 – 4 7.41.4 7.44.1 ff. 7.49.2 7.51.1 7.52 – 53.1 7.54 7.55.2 7.59.2 – 72.2 7.60.1 – 2 7.60.2 – 5 7.61.3 7.62.2 7.62.3 7.63.4 7.65.1 – 2 7.67.2 7.69.4 7.70.1 – 2 7.70.3 7.70.4 7.70.6 7.71.4 7.71.7 7.72.2 7.75.7 7.78.3 7.78.6 7.79.5 7.80.6 7.82.1 7.82.3 8.1 – 60.3 8.1 – 44 8.1 – 24 8.1 – 6 8.1 8.1.1 – 4 8.1.2 8.1.3 8.1.4 8.2 – 6

193

83 158 156 80, 131 n. 71 142 n. 1 150, 152, 154 n. 36 79 80 79 142 n. 1 82 80 131 n. 71 80 82 80, 83 78 82, 145 n. 14 78 80 150 n. 29 80 83 80, 150 n. 29 80 82 150, 152 – 153, 154 nn. 34 and 36 142 n. 1 154 n. 36 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 142 n. 1 129 11 – 13, 15, 18, 20 – 63, 129, 131, 141, 165, 167 25 24 n. 22, 85, 88 27 29, 51, 85, 114 n. 25 52 29, 56, 113 n. 20 49

194

Index locorum

8.2 167 8.2.1 – 4 61 8.2.1 – 2 51 8.2.1 61 8.2.2 52, 55. 56 n. 91, 61 8.2.4 54 n. 87, 61 8.3.2 54 n. 87 8.4 24 n. 22, 51 8.4.1 52 8.5 – 8 39 8.5 – 6 56 n. 92 8.5.5 57 8.5.1 60 8.7 – 10.2 33 8.7 – 8 25 8.7 27, 29 – 30 8.7.1 54 n. 87 8.8.1 84 n. 66 8.8.2 34 8.8.3 54 n. 88 8.8.4 54, 145 n. 14 8.9 – 12 25 8.9.1 – 2 29, 54 8.9.1 30 8.10.1 29 8.10.3 – 11.3 33 8.11 57 8.11.3 27, 29, 54 n. 87, 56 8.12.1 – 14.1 – 3 33 8.12 38 8.12.1 30, 56, 57 n. 96 8.12.3 36 8.13 36 – 37 8.14 – 18 25 8.14 36, 38 8.15.1 – 16.3 34 8.15 38, 57 8.15.1 26, 30 8.15.2 57 n. 96 8.16.3 54 8.17 8 8.17.1 – 3 34 8.17.2 30, 35 8.17.3 30, 38 – 39 8.17.4 – 18 33, 40 – 41 8.17.4 39, 41 – 42 8.18 124 n. 48

8.19 – 24 8.19.1 – 4 8.19.1 8.19.2 8.19.4 8.20.1 8.20.2 8.21 8.22.1 – 23.6 8.22.1 8.23.1 8.24

25 34 39 – 40, 40 n. 57, 57 38 36 36 – 37 36 8, 33, 42 – 46 34 130 n. 65 38 12, 23, 56 n. 92, 88, 113, 129 – 130, 141 8.24.1 – 6 34 8.24.3 – 5 52 8.24.4 – 5 35, 129, 131 8.24.5 53, 54 n. 88, 55, 61, 130 n. 65 8.24.6 – 38.3 120 8.24.6 35, 120, 122 8.25 – 107 11 – 13, 15, 18 – 19, 23 – 24, 64 – 141, 166 8.25 – 60.3 129 – 131 8.25 – 28 112 – 113 8.25 13, 19, 23 – 24, 64, 88 – 89, 126, 135 – 136, 142, 146, 150 8.25.1 – 2 146 8.25.3 143, 145 n. 14, 147 n. 18 8.25.4 148 8.25.5 150 – 154 8.26 118 n. 38 8.26.3 113, 146 8.27 – 28 64 8.27 49, 85, 88 – 98, 113 8.27.1 113 8.27.2 92, 93 n. 91 8.27.3 85, 92, 98 8.27.4 92, 98, 113 8.27.6 144 8.28 – 47 116 8.28 6, 58 8.29 – 44 105 n. 9, 119 n. 42, 126 n. 54, 129 n. 62 8.29 – 30 64, 113 8.29 57, 118 n. 38 8.30.2 125 n. 50 8.31 – 32 113 – 117, 123 8.31.1 – 60.3 131

Index locorum

8.31.1

114 – 115, 116 n. 35, 117, 120, 122, 127 – 128, 130, 132 8.31.1 – 32.2 129 8.31.2 115, 126 8.31.3 116 n. 35 8.32 120 8.32.2 120 8.32.3 12, 129 – 130 8.34 – 35 117 8.34 8, 91 – 93, 92 n. 85, 95 8.36 – 38 117 – 121 8.36 – 37 128 8.36 118 n. 39, 120, 123, 128, 136 – 137 8.37 124 n. 48 8.37.3 – 4 118 8.38.1 – 4 121 8.38.2 122 8.38.3 120 8.38.4 – 39.4 121 8.38.4 120 – 123, 126 – 129, 132 8.38.5 120, 125 n. 50, 126 8.39 124 8.39 – 43 121 – 123 8.39.1 127 n. 61 8.39.3 92 – 93 8.40.1 – 3 121 8.40.1 120, 122 – 123, 126 – 129, 132 8.40.2 122 – 123, 132 8.40.3 123, 126 – 128, 132 8.41 – 43 121 8.41.1 123, 126 8.42.1 – 4 92 – 93 8.42.2 93 8.42.3 93 8.43.1 123, 125 n. 50, 126 8.44 124 n. 48, 126 8.44.4 123 – 126, 127 n. 61 8.45 – 54 6, 8, 10, 12, 103, 119 n. 42, 123 – 126, 133, 138, 166 8.45 – 46 124 – 126, 133 8.45 12, 118 n. 38, 133 8.45.1 133 8.45.2 118 8.45.4 12, 130 8.46 124 n. 48, 125 8.46.1 125

8.46.5 8.48 8.50.3 8.53 – 54 8.55.1 – 56.1 8.55.1 8.55.2 8.55.3 8.56.2 – 4 8.57 – 60 8.57 – 59 8.58.1 8.58.5 – 7 8.60 8.60.2 8.60.3

195

125 90 n. 79 125 n. 51, 135 43 n. 61 126 – 127 126 120, 126 – 129, 132 132 127 127 – 131 128 127 n. 61 127 12, 117, 119, 132 117, 128, 132 120, 125 n. 50, 127 n. 61, 128 – 132 8.61 131 8.61.1 – 63.2 131 – 133 8.61.2 132 8.63 – 77 8, 12, 103, 131 – 133, 138, 166 8.63 134 n. 78 8.63.2 133, 134 n. 78 8.63.3 42 – 46, 133 8.73.2 42 – 46 8.78 – 79.6 134 – 136 8.78 114, 118, 120, 125 n. 50, 126, 134 8.79 134 n. 78 8.79.1 – 6 93 – 94 8.79.1 93 8.79.2 93, 134 n. 78, 135 8.79.3 93 8.79.6 94, 136 8.80 114, 118, 120, 126, 136 8.81.4 95 8.82.1 145 n. 14 8.83 – 85 126, 136 – 137 8.83.1 137 8.83.2 137 8.83.3 125 n. 51, 137 8.84.2 – 3 114, 121 8.84.4 – 5 118 8.94 95 8.94.3 – 95.7 94 – 96 8.95.2 94 8.95.5 94

196

Index locorum

8.96.1 8.96.5 8.99 – 106 8.99 – 103 8.99 8.100.1 8.101.1 8.101.3 8.103.3 8.104 – 106 8.104.1 8.104.2 8.104.4

94 82, 100 n. 102 138 97 97 97 97 97 97 97, 155 157 157 162

8.106.1 – 2 8.104.1 8.104.3 8.104.4 8.105.1 8.105.2 8.105.3 8.106 8.106.1 8.106.2 8.107 8.108

100 98, 158 162 98 162 – 163 163 98, 158, 163 19, 64, 89, 119, 161, 164, 169 98, 160 – 161 114 165 165

Index nominum et rerum absence of speeches 4, 6 f., 9 f., 31 f., 64, 89, 101, 165 – 166 Abydus 131, 155 Acanthians 32, 50, 56 Acanthus 51, 56 Acarnania 21, 26 f., 32, 47, 59 acceleration 31 f., 58 Achilles 16, 61, 75 Adorno, Theodor 1 Aegean 20, 84 Aegition 67 – 69, 71 – 77 Aerae 36 Aetolia 66, 68 – 71, 74 Aetolians 66, 68 – 71, 73 f. Agamemnon 154, 159 Agis II, king of Sparta 24, 47, 100, 106 – 109, 121 Agrigentines 169 Alberti, Leon Battista 2 Alcamenes 25, 33 Alcibiades 5 f., 12 f., 25, 32 – 34, 38 f., 43, 47 – 49, 54, 56 f., 88, 90, 101, 112, 118, 124 f., 127, 130, 136, 146, 167 Alcidas 47 f. Alciphron 106 f. Ambraciots 26, 42 Amorges 38, 57 f. Amphilochians 41 f. Amphipolis 15, 26, 28, 30, 32, 50 f., 82 Amphipolitans 50 Anaea 25, 34, 38, 44, 57 Antissa 34 Antisthenes 121, 132 antithesis 29 f., 42 f., 54, 58, 61 f., 73, 87, 99, 107, 116, 128, 147, 149, 160 aoidos 16 Aphroditia 87 Arcadia 106 f. Arcadians 106, 109 Archaeology 21, 58, 154, 159 Archidamian war 60 Archidamus 60 f., 145 – 147 Arginousae 62 Arginus 95, 111

Argives 42, 48, 54, 87 f., 99, 105 – 109, 137, 142 – 150, 153 Argos, Amphilochian 41 – 42 Argos, of the Peloponnese 37, 104 – 108 aristeia 15, 55, 83 Aristeus 30, 47 Aristophanes 23 Arrhabaeus 57 Asia Minor 91, 115, 129, 142 Astyochus 6, 13, 25, 34, 49, 54, 113 – 123, 125 f., 128 – 131, 134 f., 137 Athena 16, 110 Athenian League 20, 25, 53, 97, 123 Athens 8 f., 12 f., 20, 25 – 27, 29, 31, 34, 38 f., 43 f., 50 – 52, 55, 57, 61 f., 65, 67, 73, 81, 83 – 85, 90, 96 f., 105, 136, 139, 141, 164 f., 167 Attica 29, 37, 67, 146 battle descriptions 5, 13, 15, 44, 71, 74, 98, 141 f., 145 f. battle of Cynos Sema 13, 19, 64 f., 84, 88, 96 – 99, 103 – 105, 111 – 114, 131, 140 f., 155, 159 – 161, 164 f., 169, 171 f. battle of Miletus 13, 15, 19, 23, 85, 88, 112, 141 – 146, 148 f., 154 Boeotians 105 f. book division 13 Bottiaeans 26 Brasidas 15, 21, 26, 28 f., 32, 46 – 51, 53 – 59, 63, 83, 88, 90, 101, 144, 146 f., 167, 172 Byzantium 95, 136 Cardamyle 52 Caunus 121 Cephallonia 26 Chalcideus 25, 33 – 35, 38 f., 47, 57 Chalcidians 26, 104 Chalke 123 chance 14, 62, 68, 81, 92, 96 f., 129 Chaonians 26, 145 characterizations 5, 142

198

Index nominum et rerum

Chians 12, 23 – 25, 27, 29 f., 32, 34 f., 48, 52 – 57, 60 f., 63 f., 91, 113, 116 f., 119 – 123, 125 – 132, 134, 141, 164 f., 167, 169 chiasmus 108, 113 Chios 12 f., 15, 20 f., 23 – 26, 30 – 35, 38, 46 – 49, 51, 54 – 57, 59, 88, 91, 97, 113 – 117, 119 – 123, 126 – 132, 141, 153, 169 Chios narrative 8, 13, 23 f., 31, 33, 37, 46, 48 – 50, 55, 59, 62 – 64, 112, 166, 172 Chromon 70 Clasomenae 25, 34, 113, 115 f. Clearchus 25, 136 Cleon 20, 32, 50, 67 Cleophon 62 Cnemus 47 – 48 Cnidus 24, 123 commander narrative 14, 142 comments 7 f., 12, 22 f., 36, 43, 49, 55, 62, 70, 73, 80, 82 f., 94, 99 f., 127, 129, 140, 150 f., 153 f., 160, 169 confirmation 13, 23, 60, 86, 89, 91 – 93, 96, 165 Corcyra 14, 67, 122, 146, 148 f., 156 – 158 Corcyrians 15, 31, 148 Corinth 25, 36 f., 77, 104, 122, 159 Corinthians 15, 20, 25 f., 31, 48, 54, 58, 61, 76 f., 105 f., 143 f., 148 – 150, 156 f., 160 f. Cos 123 Cotyrta 87 coup in Athens 4, 43 Cratesippidas 49 Creon 60 Critias 90 cross-references 2, 61, 70, 162 culmination 2, 9, 27, 35, 97, 111, 115, 119, 126, 128, 131, 133, 137, 164, 169 Cyme 113 Cynos Sema 12, 15, 18, 66, 81, 84, 86, 88 f., 95, 98 – 100, 103, 111 f., 115, 135, 138, 141, 155 – 165, 170, 172 Cynuria 87 Cythera 84, 87 Cyzicus 59 f., 62 f., 172 deceleration 12, 64, 101, 104, 113, 115, 125 Deceleia 24, 94 Delion 72, 88

Delos 136 Delphinium 117, 122 f. Demosthenes, son of Alcisthenes 66 – 72, 74, 77 – 80, 168 διέκπλους 75, 149 – 150, 162 – digressions 8, 12 f., 33, 37, 103, 126, 133, 138 f., 166 f. Diodotus 20, 32, 62 Diogenes Laertius 2 Diomedon 34, 37 f., 126 Dionysius of Halicarnassus 2 direct speech 7 documents 9, 35, 39, 124, 165 – 167 Dorians 143, 150, 153, 171 Egypt 58 Eione 28, 30 Endius 118 Ephesos 24 Epidamneans 122 Epidaurians 106 Epidaurus 105 Eretria 94 f., 97, 111, 116 Eretrians 94, 117, 128 Erhesos 34 Erineos 66, 75 – 78, 159 f. Erythrae 25 Erythreans 24 escalation 2, 29, 51, 105, 114 f., 119, 121 – 123, 128 f., 131 f., 134, 137, 139 Eteocles 60 Eteonicus 34 Euboea 94, 127 Euboeans 24 Euripides 15, 61 Eurymedon 67 expectations 17, 49, 69, 78, 96, 147, 160, 165 fear

22 f., 26 – 29, 31 f., 45, 47, 50 f., 56, 58, 62, 67, 85, 105, 147 flashback 9, 24, 53, 124, 126 Fleiasians 106 Fleius 106 f. focalization 14, 128, 157 f. foreshadowing 40, 46, 49, 54, 59, 63, 66, 68, 70, 78, 81, 90, 105, 107, 109, 117 – 119, 128, 136 f., 164, 167, 172

Index nominum et rerum

Four Hundred 8, 43, 90 Funeral speech 62 Great Harbour

66, 75, 77 – 79, 161, 169

199

Ionians 26, 50 f., 54 – 56, 143, 150, 153, 166, 171 Ionian Sea 36 Ionian war 6, 9, 18, 23, 25, 46, 48 f., 58 – 61, 101, 114, 129, 141, 171 f. Isthmian Games 25

Greco-Persian relationships 6 Greece 24, 32, 51, 54, 56, 65 – 68, 143, 154 Greeks 20, 43, 48 – 51, 54, 61, 65, 68, 75, 81, key cities 25 f., 28, 47 96, 99, 111, 137, 141, 143, 148, 158 f. Gylippus 36, 78, 80, 168 f. Lacedaemonians 52, 86, 99, 151 f. Laconia 86 f., 105 Heleians 104 Lampsacus 131 Helixos 136 Lebedos 36 Hellenistic period 69 Hellespont 25, 35, 57, 93, 97, 131 f., 134, 136, Lefcada 36 Leon 37 f., 126, 131 f. 155 Leonidas 68 Helots 58, 105 Lesbians 24, 26, 48, 54, 116 f., 128 Heraclea 105 Lesbos 21, 25 f., 30, 34, 46 f., 59, 113, 117, Heraclitus 130 128 f. Hermaeondas 30 Leuconion 52 Hermocrates 88, 137, 145 Lichas 124, 137, 166 Hippocrates 117 light-armed men 66 – 69, 76, 78, 80, 83 historical development 14, 16, 22 f., 59, 68, Limera Epidaurus 87 114 linearity 24, 124 Historical Present 32 f., 167 Locroi Osolae 68 – 70 History 1 – 3, 7 – 11, 13 – 19, 21 – 23, 27, 36, Lyngesteans 147 39 – 41, 46, 48 f., 53, 59, 63 – 65, 74, 76, 82, 89, 101, 141, 146, 150, 154 – 159, 161, Lysander 49 164, 168, 170 Homer 15 – 17, 74, 103, 126, 130, 133 Homeric type-scene 15 f. hoplites 34, 36, 66 – 70, 72 – 74, 76, 79 – 81, 83 f., 87, 99, 113, 142, 148 hubris 15 human nature 14, 22 f. Iasus 113, 117 Iliad 1, 103 inaccuracies 3, 165 f. indirect speech 7, 89 inductive method 18, 47 international relations theory, 21 f. interruption 36 f., 39, 42 f., 103 f., 110, 123 f., 131, 138 – 140, 164 Ionia 6, 20, 25, 33 f., 36, 38 f., 44, 50 f., 54, 56 f., 59, 113, 117, 121, 126, 144, 169

Malea 121 Mantinea 17, 26, 53, 65 f., 68, 78, 81, 84, 86, 88, 90, 98 – 101, 104 – 106, 109, 115, 117, 119, 121, 137 f., 140, 144, 169 – 172 Marcellinus 112 Megarians 106 Meleas 30 Melos 95, 111 Messenians 68 – 70, 80 meta-narrative instruction 49, 90 Methydrion 106 f. Methymna 34 Methymnaeans 29 Milesians 117 f., 137, 142 f., 146, 150, 153 Miletus 25, 34 f., 38 f., 41 f., 57, 64, 93, 97, 112 f., 117, 120 f., 127, 132, 134 – 137, 141 f., 147, 169 military recovery 15, 98, 101, 103 Mindarus 49, 137, 155

200

Index nominum et rerum

Minos 154, 159 motivation 7, 33, 114 movements and numbers of the ships Mycale 93, 134 Mycenae 159 Mytilenaeans 29 Mytilene narrative 31 f.

5–8

narrative coherence 5 narrative delay 12, 15, 123 f., 140, 167 narrative pace 58, 104, 112 f. narrative space 13, 36, 63, 167, 169 Naupactus 26 f., 147, 158, 161 – 164 Nemea 106 Nicias 78, 80 – 83, 145 Nissaea 56 Odysseus 16 Oeneon 68 omission of patronymics 4, 166 omniscient historical narrator 15 Orchomenus 108 f. Oresteion 109 Palladio, Andrea 1 Panormon 34 f. Pasippidas 49 Pathology 20, 43, 45, 63, 90, 144 f. Patrae 27, 147, 157, 161 Pausanias 49, 58, 116 Peace of Nicias 104 Pedaritus 113, 120 f., 126 f., 132 Peisandros 43 f. Pellenians 106 Peloponnese 29, 36, 58, 84, 87, 104 f. Peloponnesian League 20, 31, 36, 45, 130 Peloponnesians 25 f., 58, 75, 84, 88, 92 f., 96 f., 110, 112, 114, 117, 120, 123, 125 – 136, 142, 147, 150, 153, 155 – 158, 161 – 164, 167, 169 Pentecontaetia 58, 112, 159 Perdiccas II, king of Macedon 25 – 29, 48, 57 – 58 Pericles 36, 45, 49, 61 f., 90, 101, 144 f. περíπλους 75 Persia 6, 8, 12, 24 f., 33, 39, 58, 60, 115 – 118, 124 f., 138, 154, 166 f.

Persian Wars 52 f., 58, 144 Phanes 52 Pharnabazus 24, 136 Philoctetes 10, 130 Phoenician fleet 8, 125 Phoenicus 91 Phormio 41 f., 147, 162 Phrynichus 8, 49, 64, 85, 88 – 94, 96 – 98, 101, 103, 111 – 113, 125, 141, 164 – 167, 172 Plataea 141 Plutarch 2 Polyanthes 76 Polybius 74 polysyndeton 106, 108, 110, 119, 134 f., 138 postponement 10, 13, 17, 23, 66, 95, 105, 110, 124, 137, 140, 167, 170 Potidaea 21, 25 – 27, 29 – 32, 47 Potidaeans 29 Priam 16 Pylos 15, 37, 62, 67 f., 75, 78 f., 81 – 85, 96, 100, 105, 150 – 154 Pyrra 34 reader 1, 9, 13 f., 17 f., 21, 23, 27, 33, 35 f., 39, 41, 43, 45 – 49, 51, 53, 55 f., 58, 66, 68 f., 71 f., 74 f., 77 – 79, 81, 86 – 89, 91, 93 – 98, 103 – 107, 109, 111, 113 – 116, 119 – 121, 124, 126 – 131, 134 – 136, 138 – 140, 145, 147, 149, 154, 157 – 159, 161 f., 164 f., 167 f. Realism 22 – neorealism / structural realism 22 – 23, 65 – traditional 22 regularity 14, 21, 23 resolution 12, 23, 89, 95 f., 109 – 111, 113, 117, 119 f., 123, 128, 131, 135 f., 138 f., 164, 167 retardation 13, 18 f., 23, 88 f., 103 – 105, 111 f., 117, 120, 126 f., 129, 138 – 140, 165 reversal 33, 91, 103 f., 106, 113, 121, 126, 147, 151, 163 f. revolt of Chios 11, 21, 29, 33, 47 revolt type-narrative 15, 18, 20 f., 23 – 25, 28, 32, 35, 46 f., 55, 63 f., 97, 165, 167 Rhodes 39, 58, 123 f., 126 f., 132 f. ring-composition 23, 52 – 53, 61, 98, 107, 125, 133 Rio-Antirio 162

Index nominum et rerum

201

Samians 43 – 46, 92 Samos 25, 33 f., 37 f., 42 – 44, 46, 63, 89, 93, 113, 123, 127, 132 – 134, 136, 159, 169 Scione 51, 56 secret negotiations 23, 29, 47 f. seed 113 f., 116, 118, 120, 123, 126, 128, 134, 137 Sestus 155 Sicilians 51 Sicily 6, 13, 18, 24, 36, 49 f., 55, 65, 67, 76, 84 – 86, 89, 95, 98, 100 f., 131, 141, 145, 161, 164, 169 Sicyonians 106 single clause judgment 16 Sophocles 67, 130 Sophocles, tragedian 10 sources 6, 9, 28 Spartans 5, 13, 18, 20 f., 24 – 27, 29 f., 32 – 34, 37 f., 42, 44 – 46, 48, 51, 53 f., 56 – 63, 65 – 68, 71 – 75, 78 – 87, 90, 96, 98 – 100, 103, 105 – 109, 113, 116 – 118, 121, 124 f., 136, 143, 146, 150 f., 154, 164, 166, 169, 171 f. speeches 2, 5, 7, 10, 14 f., 20, 22, 32, 61 – 63, 81, 89, 91, 99, 122, 142 – 146, 165 f. speed – urgency – precaution 30 Speiraeon 25, 37 Sphacteria 13, 18, 60, 65 – 84, 86 – 88, 100 f., 103, 151, 169 f., 172 Sthenelaidas 61 Stratians 145 Stratus 26 f., 145 Strombichides 25, 34, 37 f., 93, 131 f., 134, 136 Sybota 26, 148 f., 156 – 158 Syme 92, 94 f., 111, 121, 123 Syracusans 75 – 77, 79 f., 82 – 84, 93, 114, 145 f., 155, 158, 161, 169 Syracuse 49, 64 – 66, 75, 77 – 84, 86, 88, 95, 100, 112, 114, 145, 150, 152, 158 – 161, 164, 168 – 170, 172

Tenedians 29 Teos 34 Teutiaplus 47 Thasos 30 Themistocles 36, 101, 144 Thermopylae 68 Third Messenian War 58 Thirty-year truce 40 Thrace 21, 27 – 31, 37, 48, 50 f., 55 – 59, 88 Thracians 25 f., 50, 55 f. Thrasybulus 155, 162 Thrasycleus 37 f. Thrasylus 97, 106 – 109, 137, 155 Thucydides 1 – 18, 20 – 65, 67 – 102, 104 – 132, 134 – 138, 140 – 151, 153 – 172 Thyrea 87, 137 Thyreans 87 Tissaphernes 5 f., 8, 13, 24, 43, 57 f., 116 – 119, 123 – 125, 127 f., 134 – 137, 142, 166 f. Torone 51, 56 Trachinia 8 treaties 8, 12, 25, 33, 38 – 45, 116 – 119, 124, 127, 138, 166 Triopion 117, 127 Trogilus 169 Trojan War 41, 61 Tydeus 120 type-character 14 type-narrative 14 – 18, 21, 23, 47, 65 – 67, 98, 101, 103 f., 171 typological history 15 typology 15 tyrannicides 49

Tamos 113, 115 f. Tegea 26, 109 Teians 54

Zacynthus Zeus 38

unpredictability of war Voliscus

52

ὠθισμός

149

Xenophantidas 26

126

14, 53, 60, 62, 153