Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections [online ed.] 0199563810, 9780199563814

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Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Title Pages (p.i) Xenophon's Mirror of Princes (p.ii) (p.iii) Xenophon's Mirror of Princes

(p.iv) Great Clarendon Street, Oxford OX2 6DP Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University's objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide in Oxford New York Auckland Cape Town Dar es Salaam Hong Kong Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Nairobi New Delhi Shanghai Taipei Toronto With offices in Argentina Austria Brazil Chile Czech Republic France Greece Guatemala Hungary Italy Japan Poland Portugal Singapore South Korea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine Vietnam Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press

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Title Pages in the UK and in certain other countries Published in the United States by Oxford University Press Inc., New York © Vivienne J. Gray 2011 The moral rights of the author have been asserted Database right Oxford University Press (maker) First published 2011 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above You must not circulate this book in any other binding or cover and you must impose the same condition on any acquirer British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Data available Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Data available Typeset by SPI Publisher Services, Pondicherry, India Printed in Great Britain on acid‐free paper by MPG Books Group, Bodmin and King's Lynn ISBN 978–0–19–956381–4 1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

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Abbreviations

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

(p.vii) Abbreviations Standard abbreviations are used, and for Xenophon's works: Ag. Agesilaus An. Anabasis Ap.Soc. Apologia Socratis Cyr. Cyropaedia Equ. De re equestri Hell. Hellenica Hipp. Hipparchicus Mem. Memorabilia Oec. Oeconomicus RL Respublica Lacedaemoniorum Symp. Symposium (p.viii)

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Introduction

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Introduction Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0001

Abstract and Keywords This Introduction briefly outlines the book. This book is about Xenophon's literary presentation of the leadership of individuals in their communities, from those of private households up to those of great empires. Leadership is his main interest throughout his works and the examination of the methods he uses to portray leadership allows us to look into his general literary techniques. The main aim is to show that these techniques produce images of leaders that are rich in literary and conceptual interest and contribute to the literary theory of writing in prose. As part of this analysis, the book addresses readings that have found concealed criticism behind his apparently positive images of leadership in a majority of his works. These represent a dominant trend of literary criticism of Xenophon in our time and we can profit from engaging with them. Keywords:   Xenophon, leadership, literary techniques, images of leaders, prose

It is a fine and sufficient achievement for a man to take care to make himself excellent (kaloskagathos) with good standing in his community and secure sufficient provision for himself and his householders. But though this is a great achievement, to understand how to rule other men so that they have all provision in abundance and will be all of them as they should be, this seemed to us to be something really amazing. Xenophon (Cyr. 1.6.7) This book is about Xenophon's literary presentation of the leadership of individuals in their communities, from those of private households up to those of Page 1 of 4

 

Introduction great empires. Leadership is his main interest throughout his works and the examination of the methods he uses to portray leadership gives us an insight into his general literary techniques. The main aim is to show that these techniques produce images of leaders that are rich in literary and conceptual interest and contribute to the literary theory of writing in prose. As part of this analysis, the book addresses readings that have found concealed criticism behind his apparently positive images of leadership in a majority of his works. These represent a dominant trend of literary criticism of Xenophon in our time and we can profit from engaging with them. They can be called ‘ironical’ or ‘subversive’ or ‘darker’ readings and they reflect the preoccupation of the modern world with irony. The importance of Irony in modern art and literature and, more latterly, in the intellectual sciences and in culture generally, can hardly be overestimated. For some writers, the cultivation of irony is the most essential (p.2) qualification for any thought, any art or literature or social or political theory to be truly modern. (Witkin 1993) These readings reveal in particular the democratic suspicion of leaders that is reflected in modern management theory, which finds leadership problematic because of its inherent drift to autocracy: The theory of democracy does not treat rulers kindly. Suspicion of rulers, concern over their propensity to abuse power in their own self‐interest, the need to hold them accountable, and the belief that legitimate power is lodged originally in the people and granted to leaderships only with severe contingencies, all are fixed stars in the democratic galaxy. Yet for all this suspicion, modern theory still acknowledges ‘those elements of democratic thought that acknowledge the indispensable, fundamental and positive contributions of leaders’,1 and the dilemma is solved by placing restrictions on the power of leaders, such as the need to secure assent from other members of the organization, and to give them self‐determination, inclusiveness, equal participation and deliberation.2 Xenophon believed also that leaders were fundamental to the success of any organization, but he also knew the risk of the drift toward autocracy, and it will become clear in the course of the analysis that his theory placed restrictions on his leaders that are very like the ones mentioned above in connection with modern democratic management theory. The arrangement of the book is as follows: Chapter 1 is divided into three parts like Gaul. The first part introduces key concepts of Xenophon's theory of leadership, illustrating them mainly from the Socratic works. The second part surveys Xenophon's application of some of Page 2 of 4

 

Introduction these key concepts over the range of his narrative works and offers an ‘innocent’ reading of those works, and then previews a method of reading that arises from this survey and will inform the rest of the book. The third part traces the history of the darker readings of his images of power and demonstrates the challenges these pose to the earlier ‘innocent’ readings. (p.3) Chapter 2 examines how Xenophon evaluates leaders for praise and blame in authorial comments in historical narrative, and takes a special interest in the engagement of the author with the reader and his concern to protect the integrity of his evaluations. There is some engagement with the darker readings and with some evaluations that seem to be problematic. Hellenica and Anabasis are the main works addressed, but there are also passages from Agesilaus. It is hoped that this chapter will provoke further research into his use of the techniques of rhetoric and of narratology. Chapter 3 examines Xenophon's intertextual adaptations of previous literature to showcase his new values relating to leadership, in allegories and in deconstructions of Homer and Herodotus. These figure in the Socratic works, but also in Cyropaedia and Hiero, and there is passing comment also on Anabasis. It is hoped that this chapter will make ‘intertextuality’ a word used of Xenophon in future research as regularly as it is on other ancient authors. Chapter 4 examines his creation and development of formulaic scenes to display his views on leadership and how the recognition of these formulae guides our readings and can bring new light to passages that have not previously been recognized as formulae. The works mentioned in this chapter are Hellenica and Cyropaedia as well as Agesilaus and Anabasis. It is hoped that this chapter will put Xenophon's creation and adaptation of patterned narrative in the same tradition as Homer and Herodotus. Chapter 5 investigates the methods behind darker readings of Cyropaedia, using the results of the previous investigations of formulaic scenes and the adaptations of his literary predecessors, and begins by reading the notorious epilogue to that work as a patterned narrative of decline that creates a rhetorical argument designed to support the praise of Cyrus. Xenophon's Constitution of the Spartans is adduced as another example of this patterned narrative, with support from Memorabilia. This chapter then engages directly with ironical readings of significant passages from Cyropaedia and makes a case that Xenophon is not unaware of the complexities of leadership but gives no purchase for darker readings, that he set himself a challenge in turning a Persian king into an ideal leader against the historical realities of Persian kingship, but that this was a challenge he relished and needed to overcome to prove that his leadership theory (p.4) explained the success not just of smaller communities but of the greatest empire the world had ever known.

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Introduction Chapter 6 investigates Xenophon's views on friendship, particularly his equation of friendship between rulers and followers with those of more apparently equal status, and the methods used to question this equation. The material comes especially from the Socratic works as well as from narrative works such as Cyropaedia. It is hoped that this chapter will position Xenophon more firmly in the debate about ancient friendship. Chapter 7 offers studies in Xenophon's Socratic ironies that the modern ironical readings leave untouched as well as ironies from Anabasis, Cyropaedia, and Hellenica. This takes the focus away from leaders to some extent, but the ironical process is a significant part of his literary achievement. It is argued that the bulk of the ironies presented in these works are very different from the darker ironies. Xenophon anticipates Aristotle in producing a theory of humour that places irony in the spectrum of truth and lies as well as the most correct and improving from of play for educated people in Symposium, and in Oeconomicus he uses irony for very complex pedagogical purposes. It is hoped that this chapter may inspire more serious study of the implications of Xenophon's lighter ironies. Chapter 8 concludes that Xenophon presents clear and positive images of the dynamics of leadership, which match and sometimes surpass the requirements of modern democratic management theory, and that he exercises a range of interesting literary techniques in doing that, which give him fair repute within the traditions of ancient literature even as they clarify his contribution to political thought about leadership. Notes:

(1) Ruscio (2004), ix. (2) Gastil (1997), 158.

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0002

Abstract and Keywords Chapter 1 introduces key concepts of Xenophon's theory of leadership, illustrating them mainly from the Socratic works. The second part surveys Xenophon's application of some of these key concepts over the range of his narrative works and offers an ‘innocent’ reading of those works, and then previews a method of reading that arises from this survey and will inform the rest of the book. The third part traces the history of the darker readings of his images of power and demonstrates the challenges these pose to the earlier ‘innocent’ readings. Keywords:   leadership, Socrates on leadership, Xenophon, subversive readings, innocent readings, willing obedience, man management

Xenophon's works offer us ‘mirrors of princes’ that seem to reflect positive images of the relations between leaders and followers that he presents as the secret to success in any community.1 His image in Cyropaedia of Cyrus the Great of Persia, for instance, was long read as the mirror of a perfect prince, and this is what many modern readers continue to see; but others look into the same glass and catch glimpses of a reflection of a darker prince, which they say Xenophon is himself encouraging us to see. One way of coping with this situation is to revel in the difference, but the case will be made for authorial intention that Xenophon is offering his images of leaders and followers for imitation and avoidance, which means that he had an intention to send a certain message, so that we should try harder and more Page 1 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks systematically to understand it. Any reader of course brings to the text a range of expectations, cultural and artistic and other, which threaten to make the experience of reading unique to that individual, certainly in the modern and perhaps also in the ancient world.2 I guess that (p.6) Xenophon's modern audience largely consists of university teachers and their students, which gives them some common values, but they have been trained in different ways of reading and have had different political experiences so that their expectations differ about what constitutes good government. Some are distrustful of individual leadership, some less so, most are probably also devoted to democracy, but of different kinds perhaps. This modern diversity of literary and political experience is reflected in modern readings. When we speculate about the audience for which Xenophon thought he was writing (as distinct, at least for the moment, from the actual ancient audience that received his works), he points us to those people he has his Socrates call the kaloikagathoi. We might describe them as an intellectual elite, though Socrates defined them as ‘those who were able to handle well their household and members of the household, servants and relations, and friends and polis community and polis members’ (Mem. 1.2.48). In other words, they were leaders, and as leaders, they were a target audience for Xenophon's works of leadership. His Socratic works have Socrates directly instructing such people in leadership, providing a model for Xenophon's own instruction, and they are characterized through their educational experience at his hands in those works, so that they form a coherent core audience and we know a certain amount about the values and the tolerances that Xenophon may have expected such an audience to bring to his works. But even for readers outside his intended range, and for kaloikagathoi who did not fit his image, Xenophon sets horizons of expectations for his images of leadership more clearly than other ancient writers because he wrote such a lot and because he presents so many images in so many different ways in so many different works. As a result of this accumulation, though the casual reader, modern or ancient, may interpret any work or passage in isolation on whatever terms they like, the reader of the corpus as a whole finds guidance in Xenophon's use of repeated patterns of language and thought and narrative, so that although language can be ambiguous, and works can be polyphonic, on his images of leadership, Xenophon would have audiences ancient and modern singing more or less from the same hymn‐book. The problem lies in our capacity as readers to understand the expectations he sets and our willingness to be guided (p.7) by them. Xenophon's Socrates himself sets many of these expectations and is an obvious place to begin.3 The first part of this chapter therefore illustrates the theory of leadership that his Socrates presents in his Socratic works and sets up horizons of expectations for leadership in his other works by establishing that the theory applies universally to leadership in all kinds of communities: those of families and Page 2 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks friends, as well as the army and the polis. The second surveys the universal application of the expectations of the theory in his works of history and biography and praise and advice; it previews a method of reading that relies on horizons of expectation to interpret one image of leadership in relation to another in passages of similar content. The third part of the chapter describes the challenge to these positive impressions from the subversive or darker or ironic readings of the works and the flawed images they discover in the glass. It has been well said that we cannot afford to ignore these kinds of readings;4 they dominate Xenophon's reception among political scientists.5 In later chapters the methods behind them will be analyzed, including the nature of the horizons of expectation that those readings adduce to support their darker images.

The leadership theory of Xenophon's Socrates Socrates as Source

Xenophon was a pupil of Socrates and the author of four Socratic works.6 The story told by Diogenes Laertius in his account of Xenophon's life is that Socrates met Xenophon in an alley, barred his way (p.8) and asked him where to find various products; being given directions he then asked him where to find good men; Xenophon did not know and followed him in order to find out (2.48). He learned among other things of the dangers of sexual indulgence as he records it in Memorabilia (1.3.8–14), when Socrates taught him to beware the kiss of the fair like the spider's bite in order to become that good man. Xenophon learned this and other lessons: Diogenes counted him as the best of the Socratics along with Plato and Antisthenes (2.47). Socrates is pivotal because Xenophon credits his teacher with views about leadership that he must himself endorse as long as we accept that he presents him as a model of virtue and wisdom in those passages in which he discusses leadership. There is the problem that Xenophon's Socratic works are admittedly defensive and their picture of Socrates may not be entirely authentic. In Memorabilia, for instance, Xenophon sets out to defend Socrates against the charges laid against him by the Athenians that led to his execution in 399 BC (1.1.1–1.2.64: non‐conformist religious views and corruption of the young),7 and then gives a series of largely conversational vignettes dealing with a vast variety of topics (1.3.1–end), all designed to prove that he was ‘helpful’ and ‘useful’ rather than ‘harmful’ to the Athenians, which Xenophon took to be the main thrust of the charges.8 Fortunately, my argument does not depend on the authenticity of the portrayal of Socrates' views on leadership, but on Xenophon's endorsement of them. The questioning of his endorsement could only arise from finding hidden meaning in the views he apparently presents,9 but when Xenophon applies the same principles of leadership (p.9) throughout his non‐ Socratic works that he credits to Socrates throughout the Socratic works, the logical conclusion is that these are the principles that he was attributing to Socrates, and that the appearance is the reality. We might imagine that the similarity between their views arose from his having learned about leadership Page 3 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks from Socrates; if he has developed his own views and credited them to his teacher, there is all the more reason for him to be endorsing them. In Memorabilia in particular, we find Socrates explicating the need for leadership, the division of the world into leaders and followers, the function of leadership, the need for the leader to secure assent from the group he leads, and the idea that leaders exist in every conceivable kind of community, from families and friends to the armies and assemblies of the polis. His recognition of leadership in the family unit must strike some of us as odd, perhaps not meeting our expectation of personal relations, but not when we consider that in modern life we also ‘take the initiative’ in trying to ‘lead’ a partner back into line or a brother who seems not to care, and we then follow them when they respond and take up the initiative in turn. This is the kind of leadership Socrates find between brothers, for example;10 the reciprocity is possible even in larger organizations when the employee might occasionally take the lead in advising an employer—at least in the more successful companies. In establishing Socrates' views on leadership I focus on the general function of leadership and on the dynamics between leaders and followers that determine the function.11 The Division into Leaders and Followers

Xenophon's Socrates assumes that a community is divided into leaders and followers and he drew his audience to agree to it: ‘once (p.10) it was agreed that it was the function of the ruler to give the required orders and of the ruled to obey…’ (Mem. 3.9.11: του̑ μὲν ἄρχοντος…του̑ δὲ ἀρχομένου). He gives no sign that there was any real opposition and we would expect none from the ancient world. Plato's Republic is founded on the distinction between leaders and followers. Ancient political thinkers accepted the division in their commonplace definition of political constitutions according to the identity of the ruler(s). Xenophon presents his own version of this definition in Memorabilia (4.6.12).12 Here the rule of one man is defined as tyranny or kingship, depending on whether he ruled over assenting people and within the laws (ἑκόντων καὶ κατὰ νόμους), or by his own will over unwilling followers and not according to the laws (ἀκόντων τε καὶ μὴ κατὰ νόμους). Aristocracy he defined as the rule of the best, and Socrates defined ‘the best’, perhaps surprisingly, as those who have passed through the requirements of the laws (τὰ νόμιμα ἐπιτελούντων), such as those that governed the Spartans and the Persians in RL 1–10 and Cyropaedia 1.2, where the education system requires it (see also Mem. 4.4.15–16, where ‘the best rulers’ are those who enforce obedience to the laws in the citizens). Xenophon goes on to define the rule of the wealthy as plutocracy, and democracy as the rule of the entire community. Modern audiences might find the division of the community into leaders and followers unpalatable, but it is assumed in modern management theory too, which regularly selects people for development in leadership and even offers leadership courses—but not for all. Socrates allows Page 4 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks no other roles within the polis except leaders and followers in a conversation with Aristippus, where he distinguishes the different qualities needed by leaders and followers and teaches the need to educate different people to develop different qualities that would make them fit either to rule or be ruled (Mem. 2.1.1–7: ‘Tell me, if you had to take two young boys in hand and educate one to be capable of leadership (ἄρχειν) and the other so that he would never make a claim to leadership, how would you educate each one?). The distinguishing feature of rulers turns out to be control of the appetites, which is a regular requirement of rulers in Xenophon's theory as we shall see, (p.11) and so is the idea that rulers educate some followers not to challenge their rule by satisfying their appetite for a life of pleasure.13 Leadership Aims at Success for the Organization

It is well known that Socrates’ philosophical method started from definitions. In Memorabilia he posed the questions: ‘What is rule over men? What is a ruler over men?’ (Mem. 1.1.16: τί ἀρχὴ ἀνθρώπων, τί ἀρχικὸϛ ἀνθρώπων) and he answered them in terms of their functions or ‘works’. The classic definition of leadership in terms of its function comes at the end of his conversation with a man whom the Athenians had elected as their general (strategos) (Mem. 3.2.4)— one of several in which Socrates teaches leadership to elected Athenian officials: ‘And inquiring in this way into the definition of a good leader, he removed the rest and left only this, that the function of the leader was to make those he led successful’: τὸ εὐδαίμονας ποιει̑ν ὠ̑ν ἂν ἡγη̑ται.14 The definition reached has universal application. In the inquiry Socrates used the paradigm of Homeric Agamemnon to prove the definition.15 He took the epithets that Homer gave Agamemnon as ‘shepherd of the people’ and ‘a good king and a mighty spearman too’ as an indicator of the function of leadership. Equating the king with the elected official he was addressing, and using the language of democratic choice, he makes these epithets prove that the group determines the success they seek by choosing a leader who will secure it for them: ‘men go on campaign in order to (p.12) conquer the enemy and become more successful (εὐδαιμονέστεροι ὠ̑σιν)’; ‘a king is chosen/elected (αἱρει̑ται) by his forces not in order that he should care for himself successfully, but so that those who elected him (οἱ ἐλόμενοι) should succeed (εὐ̑ πραττω̑σι) through him, and all people go on military campaigns in order to get the best livelihood and they elect (αἱρου̑νται) generals for this purpose, to lead them in respect of this success’ (3.2.3). Cyropaedia 1.6.7 also compares the fine achievement of being able to care so that one becomes good oneself and feed one's household, with the even nobler achievement of knowing how to lead others to have what they want and become ‘such as they should be’. ‘Such as they should be’ is shorthand for excellence, as at Hipparchicus 1.17, where Xenophon says that when the commander has made the horses ‘such as they should be’, he should then make the cavalrymen also ‘excellent’.16 The specific ‘works’ of leadership attributed to Agamemnon in securing the success Page 5 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks of his men were feeding his men and preserving their lives and also making them excellent. These are basic constituents of the happiness of any community and are regularly credited to Xenophon's ideal leaders. It is significant that the impulse to be led comes from the group and that they define the success they wish to achieve. Xenophon's leaders are often accused of seeking their own happiness at the expense of the group, but this is the mark of a poor leader in Xenophon's own theory. The Definition of Success

Group success seems to be a slippery item for the leader to aim at, but for Xenophon, the definition was ‘increase’ of the group, and this could be material ‘prosperity’ as well as moral ‘enhancement’. Socrates' implication was that Agamemnon's army increased its prosperity by securing a leader who would help them win military (p.13) victories over the enemy, for instance in the way of taking booty and land. This kind of increase had unfortunate consequences for the enemy, but for the group, conquest is better than defeat. The democratic pleasures the citizens take in ‘increasing’ their community in war can be found in Xenophon's other works, such as when Hiero envies his citizens for the success they achieve as a community in conquest: ‘It is not easy to describe the pleasure poleis take in routing the enemy, in pursuing and in killing the enemy, how they rejoice in the achievement, how they take up bright fame, how they delight in thinking they have increased the polis’ (Hiero 2.15). This is a democratic as well as a general aspiration for communities. Leadership could achieve success for the community in the form of security and maintenance though peaceful economic increase as well. In the Socratic work on household management called Oeconomicus, the husband and wife teach their servants to ‘increase the household in partnership’ with them (συναύξειν τὸν οἰ̑κον: 9.12) in order to achieve a surplus of wealth. In this community the wife leads her women servants as followers inside the house and Ischomachus leads his male slave workers in the fields and the relationship between the husband and wife is one of mutual leading and following.17 The increase they produce involves improving the qualities of the household staff. Ischomachus indicates how they chose a housekeeper who had great self‐control and a good memory and taught her justice by showing her how the just in this household grew more wealthy and lived a more free life than those who were dishonest (9.13: ‘We imbued her with justice by making the just more honoured than the unjust and showing her that the just lived a life that was richer and more free than the unjust’). Cyrus the Younger in Anabasis 1.9.16–17 uses the same system of reward to produce honesty and truthfulness in his domains. Ischomachus improves the male slaves in the same way when he implements the laws of Dracon and Solon to punish dishonesty within his household, but partners these with (p.14) the laws of the Persian king, which punish bad performance but also reward good performance (14). In the work called Hiero, the wise man Simonides instructs the ruler Hiero in successful government, to ‘increase the Page 6 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks polis’ αὔξειν τὴν πόλιν (Hiero 11.13), and this also involves peaceful increase through enhancement of the qualities of the community by setting up competitions not only in qualities like bravery in war but in justice in judicial decision‐making, and in agriculture and trade (9.5–9). This increase will allow his citizens to become rich enough to participate in numbers at the festival games, while the ruler competes with other rulers in achieving their εὐδαιμονία (Hiero 11.5–7). In Poroi, Xenophon himself instructs the leaders of the Athenian democracy that they should increase the revenues of the polis and make the desired economic surplus through the improvement of agriculture and trade and mining. He says that the prosperity they create will increase the good reputation of the polis among her allies, increase her security in having friends rather than enemies, increase her glory and her facilities as well as create enough surplus for everyone rich and poor to enjoy a thriving religious and civic life, and he hopes that in his own times he may see the polis ‘prospering in security’ (Poroi 6.1: τὴν πόλιν μετ᾽ἀσϕαλείας εὐδαιμονου̑σαν). The examples above show that the leader had to secure ‘increase’ in the numbers and the qualities and skills of the group if a community was to flourish. The idea that it is the leader's duty to ‘grow the business’ and improve the skills of the members of the group is another aspect of modern management practice and theory, where growth continues to be assumed as a good thing, even in universities: ‘Leadership is an interaction between two or more members of a group that often involves a structuring or restructuring of the situation and the perceptions of the members…Leadership occurs where one group member modifies the motivation or competences of others in the group.’18 Xenophon's Socrates himself endorses the need to increase the size of the group as well as those abilities in the membership that facilitate (p.15) their success through a negative example, when he criticizes Critias and Charicles, the two leading members of the notorious Thirty Tyrants who governed Athens after the end of the Peloponnesian War, for ‘decreasing/diminishing’ rather than increasing the Athenians, using the image of the cattle and their keeper that is presented also in the preface to Cyropaedia (see below pp. 48–51) in a more positive form. He indicates that poor rulers make the population both ‘fewer in numbers and worse in quality’ (ἐλάττους τε καὶ χείρους). They achieved that by executing innocent and worthy citizens and forcing the rest to commit injustice by involving them in their murders. The Athenians became fewer because the elimination of good men reduced the population and worse because the good citizens had been removed and the remaining citizens had been turned to injustice by murdering them (Mem. 1.2.32). These two types of ‘decrease’ of the polis are the negative achievement of Hiero too, before his reform by Simonides: he felt obliged to exterminate good men because their increase would threaten his rule over the polis; this left him with a small population of debased and

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks vicious men over which to rule, which brought him no glory (Hiero 2.17, 5.1–2, 6.14–16). The Acquisition of ‘Willing Obedience’ to Secure Success

Socrates defined the secret of successful leadership as knowledge: ‘Kings and rulers were not those who held the sceptre, nor those elected by sundry persons nor those who won it in the ballot or used force or deceit, but those who understood how to rule’ (Mem. 3.9.10). There were many types of knowledge needed, but it was when a leader had greater knowledge than others about how to secure what was best for them that they obeyed him with the greatest willingness and so became willing followers who sought out leaders to lead them, as the soldiers do in the paradigm of Agamemnon above, and as Socrates showed generally: Whenever a man agreed that the function of the ruler was to direct what had to be done, and of the ruled to obey, he illustrated how, in a ship the one who (p.16) knew was the ruler and the rest, the owner and the others in the ship, all obeyed the one who knew, and in farming those who had fields and in illness those who were ill, and in physical training those who were training, and all the others who had something that needed seeing to, they see to it themselves if they think they know, but otherwise they obey those who know, not just when they are there, but sending for them in their absence in order to do what was right in obedience to them. In wool‐work too he showed how the women ruled the men because they knew how to work wool and the men did not. (Mem. 3.9.10–11) Modern audiences might have an initially negative reaction to the need for ‘obedience’, but the analogies provided by Socrates involve an obedience that is given freely by free men, in recognition that it will achieve the success that they want by being led. We might not think of our modern selves ‘obeying’ the instruction of a doctor for our own good, but this is how Xenophon's Socrates conceives it. He is moreover selecting images where the obedience offered is not just voluntary but deliberately contrived by the follower for his own success. The relations between athlete and trainer and of doctor and patient involve no official hierarchy but an entirely voluntary association for the success of the follower. We could say too that the ship is not a state trireme but a trading vessel of a private company, and farming and wool‐work are in the same boat. Socrates requires the acquisition of willing obedience in more formal hierarchies too. At Memorabilia 3.3.8, in the conversation in which he is instructing a young man elected by the demos to the post of cavalry commander, he is taking him through the things he must know in order to carry out his functions properly and he comes to the question of obedience:

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Have you thought about how the cavalrymen will obey you? For without this there is no use in horses or men however good and brave. You are right, but how would one turn them to this best? I imagine that you know that in every business men are willing to obey (ἐθέλουσι πείθεσθαι) most the ones whom they think to be best. In illness they give most obedience to those they think to be the best doctor, in a ship the rowers to those they think the best helmsman and in farming to those they think the best farmer. (p.17) Agreed. So it's likely that in horsemanship too, the man who seems to the others to know best what to do (μάλιστα εἴδως ϕαίνηται ἃ δει̑ ποιει̑ν), this man the others are willing to obey most (ἐθέλειν πείθεσθαι). Xenophon also presents willing obedience where we might not expect it, as in the association of slave and master in the household of Ischomachus, where the master could have compelled the slave to obey. Yet Ischomachus proposes that he and his wife should win the willing obedience of their woman housekeeper and the method he suggests is to give her a share in the success of the household as well as its failures, which will make her enthusiastic (προθυμει̑σθαι) to secure success by ‘increasing the household in partnership with them’ (συναύξειν τὸν οἰ̑κον: Oec. 9.11–16). He wins the same willing obedience from her male counterpart in the household by giving him the same kinds of shares in success (12.5–7). This is the principle of sharing on which leaders like Cyrus the Great distribute booty to their men, to make them more enthusiastic to secure success (Cyr. 2.3, also 7.2). Willing obedience also comes out of the relationships that do not appear at first sight to be those of leaders and followers, such as those of teacher and pupil in the relationship of Socrates with his friends in philosophy. Yet Socrates' aim here is the regular leaderly desire to secure their eudaimonia, and their willing obedience to his advice is presented as a necessary preliminary to this when he tackles pupils who are too silly or proud to listen to be willing to listen to his instruction like Glaucon, who thought he could be a leader of Athens without the basic knowledge he needed (Mem. 3.6.2). Xenophon says that Socrates had first of all to ‘dispose him to listen to him willingly’ εἰς τὸ ἐθελη̑σαι ἀκούειν. He secured this disposition by using flattery to gain his initial audience and then gently exposed his complete ignorance through questioning. He uses similar methods to achieve the willingness to listen in Euthydemus (Mem. 4.2.6, 8). Xenophon comments also on how Socrates secured this willingness to listen in the process of dialectic itself: ‘Whenever he himself argued out a question, he advanced by steps that gained general assent (διὰ τω̑ν ὁμολογουμένων), holding this to be the only sure method. Accordingly (p.18) whenever he argued, he Page 9 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks made his interlocutors agree (ὁμολογου̑ντας) more than any man I have ever known. He said that Homer gave Odysseus the epithet ‘safe speaker’ because he was able to lead their conversation through things they agreed on (διὰ τω̑ν δοκούντων ἀνθρώποις (Mem. 4.6.15).19 The willing obedience that Socrates acquires in the process of dialectical instruction shows that he is a leader in giving instruction, but his role as teacher crosses with his role as friend in this association; he is a teacher and a friend, seeking success for others and requiring them to listen willingly in both these roles. The role of his interlocutors and audiences as friends is indicated in their regular designation: ‘those who were/spent time with him’: οἱ σύνοντες, οἱ διατρίβοντες. It is no surprise then that when Socrates is teaching Critobulus the art of acquiring friends, he presents the need to win the support of friends in the same terms as the cavalry officer's need to win the support of his cavalrymen in their military association. He repeats the advice that to win friends Critobulus must ‘be in truth’ as good as he ‘seems to be’ to them and recycles the images that he used with the cavalry officer: ‘if, wishing to make you a friend to a ship owner, I should tell lies in your praise, claiming that you were a good helmsman, and he was persuaded by me and gave you control of the ship without knowing how to steer it, would you have any hope of not destroying yourself and the ship?’ (Mem. 2.6.38–9). Socrates is acting as match‐maker for Critobulus and intending to make him attractive to potential friends by presenting him as better than they are at securing benefit for them, but the resemblance between winning friends and winning followers is clear. In a conversation between brothers too, which is also portrayed as friendship, Socrates blurs the line between friends and followers when he envisages that a younger brother will ‘lead’ his elder sibling back to friendship after a breach between them, and the kinds of services he is asked to give him to win this friendship are those that leaders also practice (Mem. 2.2).20 (p.19) The Need for Knowledge

The knowledge of how to win this obedience could be taught in the way we find Socrates teaching his cavalry commander above, through question and answer, which is the basis of dialectic. It was through conversation also that Ischomachus instructed his young wife in household management and its operations (Oec. 7–10) and Euthydemus learned the ‘kingly art’ of leadership in the democracy from Socrates (Mem. 4.2.11).21 This training often builds on an instinct for leadership, as in the case of Ischomachus' wife. There was also more direct instruction in the form of Xenophon's technical works, where Xenophon seems to work together with his Socrates to supply technical knowledge to potential leaders. For example, Socrates tells the cavalry‐commander that he needs knowledge of horses and horsemanship as well as men (Memorabilia 3.3.3–14): Xenophon supplies this knowledge in his manuals on cavalry command and horse management: Hipparchicus and De re equestri. For example, Socrates tells young Glaucon that he needs knowledge of the polis Page 10 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks economy: its income and expenditure if he wants to be a successful political leader in the democracy (Mem. 3.6.4–7): Xenophon supplies this knowledge when he offers the democratic leaders of Athens the knowledge they needed for success in the administration of trade and the silver mines in Poroi. Similarly, his Cynegeticus gives instruction in hunting, which he recognizes elsewhere as training for virtue and warfare among the Spartans and Persians (Cynegeticus 12–13, Cyropaedia 1.2.10–11, 1.6.39–40, 8.1.34–8). The penultimate section of Memorabilia shows that Socrates expected his pupils to have knowledge of everything ‘as far as it was useful’ (4.7 μέχρι του̑ ὠϕελίμου), and when he did not have expertise in the subject, he knew where to send them for instruction. The other main way of acquiring knowledge, particularly in the area of ethical education, in the Socratic works is by imitation of correct behaviour. Xenophon makes this explicit when he speaks of how Socrates set an example in his actions (Mem. 1.3.1) and how (p.20) Euthydemus began to imitate Socrates' habits when he realized his ignorance about leadership (4.2.40). The Persian education system achieves the same effect as the Socratic one through habituation by having the younger folk exposed on a daily basis to the good behaviour of their elders (Cyr. 1.2). Ideally each good person will draw on a combination of sources of education, so that in Cyropaedia, Cyrus learned basic justice from obedience to the Persian education system (Cyr. 1.2.2–14), management of men from his father Cambyses in conversation (1.6), and the finer points of justice from Tigranes by the same method (3.1.14–30); and when he gave instruction himself to others, it included his own personal example (8.1.21–39). The Accessibility of Leadership

Xenophon recognizes the leadership capacity of women and slaves in their own domains as well as that of free men and he describes their relations with followers in the same terms as those of free male persons with the people they command. He has Socrates present women as ‘rulers of men’ in the domain of the household economy in order to prove that knowledge is the basis of leadership: ‘In wool‐work too he showed how the women ruled the men because they knew how to work wool and the men did not’ (Mem. 3.9.11). Women also had to know how to manage their followers as men did, since textile production involved a team of spinners and weavers. In Oeconomicus, Ischomachus educates his wife to run the household, but he does not need to teach her woman‐management of her team of slaves; she already has the instinctive desire of the leader to improve their skills by teaching them what she knows and she instinctively has the knowledge to win their willing obedience (7.37). Ischomachus describes her functions as a leader in terms that Socrates has applied to men in their own organizations when he makes her the doctor who benefits his patients (p. 15–16): One of your responsibilities will perhaps seem rather thankless to you, that you must see that the servants are cared for if any is ill. Page 11 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks I swear, said his wife, this will be a most thankful task if those treated become grateful and more well‐disposed than before. (p.21) And, said Ischomachus, I was amazed at the answer and said: Don't you know that it is these same services from the leader (ἡγεμὼν) of the hive that make the bees so disposed to her that when she flies out, none thinks to be left behind but all follow her? (7.38; cf. 17, 33) Not only does her relationship with the servants involve the willing obedience of the patient/doctor relationship, but her image of the leader of the hive and his willing followers is applied also to Cyrus as leader by one of his followers too (Cyropaedia 5.1.24: ‘You seem to me to be born a king no less than the leader of the bees that is born in the bee‐hive. To him the bees willing obey, and wherever he rests, no bee leaves thence. If he flies out anywhere, no bee leaves his side. So strong is the love in them of being ruled by him. And men seem to me too to be disposed in this way toward you’).22 The woman's care of the sick is also a specific function of leadership in the larger more public communities of the army and the polis. Cyrus is indeed expected to practice preventive medicine by looking to ways of securing his army's good health before they fall sick (Cyr. 1.6.16–18). Hiero is encouraged to visit the sick in his rule of his polis (Hiero 8.4). Ischomachus confirms that his wife's rule may extend even over men like himself, when he invites her to be his ruler by proving herself better than he is in contributing to their common good through the administration of the household economy (7.42): ‘if you are manifestly better than I am and make me your slave’. He acknowledges her already equal contribution to the successful administration of their household estate in their partnership (κοινωνία: Oec. 7.11, 13, 18, 30). Her willingness to listen to him and the speed with which she learns just demonstrates that she has a disposition to learn—the same disposition that is possessed by Cyrus the Great in Cyropaedia 1.2.1: ϕιλομαθέστατος. Ischomachus takes his analogies for her rule of the household from the prestige organizations in which men take the lead. He appointed her to be the ‘guardian of the laws’ of the household just like the guardians of the laws that poleis communities establish to protect their written laws, so as to (p.22) ensure their implementation (9.14). Her duties include scrutinizing the condition of things, ‘like the commander of the watch’, and checking their condition as the council checks the condition of horses and cavalrymen. There is no suggestion that the good management of the household that comes from her leadership is any less significant than that of larger organizations; rather, since it is the basic unit of life, her leadership might count for even more than theirs. Ischomachus even teach slaves also to rule others.23 He teaches the man purchased as an overseer (12.3) to rule the workers in the fields (13.1–5). Socrates expresses astonishment at the idea of teaching slaves the ‘royal art’ of Page 12 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks rule, but Ischomachus has taught him the same methods he uses himself (13.6– 12). These include punishment for disobedience and reward for good performance among the workers, but also explaining to them that obedience is in their interests, and offering to those who obey the reward of better food than those who do not, and rewards of praise to those among the slaves who ‘love honour’ (‘some natures hunger for praise as others hunger for food and drink’). Ischomachus himself gives rewards for service according to merit as an incentive to virtue (13.11–12), which is a principle of leadership introduced by Cyrus the Great after his recruitment of the commoners into his elite forces in Cyropaedia 2.2–3.24 The Universality of the Definition and Its Operations

Socrates makes the universality of his leadership requirements explicit when he generalizes the function of leadership in the paradigm of Agamemnon. We even find the modern concept of the transferable skill at the heart of the teaching in a conversation in Memorabilia with a battle‐scarred veteran who had been rejected for the Athenian generalship in favour of a man who knew how to make money (p.23) (Mem. 3.4). Socrates tries to persuade the veteran that as one who knows how to make money, his rival will be a good provider for the army, and that as a liturgist with many choral victories to his credit, he has many of the skills needed. The veteran complains that there is a difference between the management of an army and a chorus, but Socrates tells him that though the candidate who has beaten him in the election has no technical military expertise, he will delegate the technical side of the business as he does in delegating the dancing to dancing instructors in his choral management, and just as he spends money on choral productions for his tribe, he will spend his money more keenly on military victory because it is not just for the tribe but for the whole polis. He declares outright: ‘whatever association a man takes charge of, if he knows what is needed and can supply this, he would be a good person in charge of a chorus, a household, a polis or an army’ (3.4.6).25 He outlines the functions that estate owners and commanders have in common too, among which is the need to win obedience; to instruct others; to punish the bad and honour the good; to acquire allies; to keep guard over land; to take care and be lovers of toil; even to acquire allies and fight (3.4.7–11). ‘The management of private affairs,’ he concludes, ‘is different from the management of public affairs only in point of numbers’ (3.4.12). It is interesting in this conversation to hear the man who is supposed to despise the democratic masses justifying their election of the businessman on the grounds of this universal theory. The proper management of people emerges in this conversation as the key to good leadership and success because all organizations depend on manpower: ‘the main thing is that without people neither public nor private business happens’, Socrates tells the rejected candidate above. And in this process of management, those who ‘understand how to use/manage people’ (oἱ ἐπιστάμενοι χρη̑σθαι) have success, whereas failure comes from lack of understanding (3.4.12).26 (p.24) Xenophon indicates Page 13 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks that people are the building blocks of any enterprise in Hipparchicus also (6.1).27

Application of the Theory in Xenophon's Other Works This universality is important for the reading of Xenophon's images of power. The Socratic works show that the successful leader is universally one who is dedicated to the achievement of increase for his community in material and moral terms; he secures the community's assent to his leadership by showing himself to be better than they are at achieving this success, and he develops the moral qualities in his followers that enable them to play their part in securing success. The survey that follows traces this theory of leadership from the rich complexity of Xenophon's other works with a particular focus on the phenomenon in which the leader wins ‘willing obedience’ from his followers because of his superior knowledge and superior care for their success. Xenophon is not alone in endorsing willing obedience of course. Aristotle also saw willing obedience as the inevitable response to the superior qualities of his supreme ruler, the pambasileia.28 To contain the survey within reasonable limits, I focus on the prefaces Xenophon attached to his works, where he announces his themes and uses the straightforward language of praise for leaders who conform to his theory. Where there are no prefaces, his authorial intrusions into the main text offer evidence. (p.25) Cyropaedia

Cyropaedia is Xenophon's longest work and the most problematic because it has been subject to such widespread subversive reading.29 Here he applies his theory of leadership to the Persian prince Cyrus, who had created the Persian empire some 200 years before Xenophon's time. The title by which the work came to be known was the ‘Education of Cyrus’ and that is a fitting description of how it traces the educational development of Cyrus as a leader from his birth to his death. It is likely that Xenophon's interest in Cyrus as a model of good government was provoked by the views of the philosophical circles of the kaloikagathoi; Xenophon has Socrates offer the Persian king as a model for imitation in his government of the provinces and his dedication to warfare and agriculture in Oeconomicus 4.4–25 for instance (though there seems to be some blurring between the Elder and the Younger Cyrus). His interest may also have been provoked by his friendship with Cyrus the Younger, whose Persian retinue might well be the source of the songs and stories he cites as evidence for his praise of Cyrus (Cyr. 1.2.1). It might still strike some as peculiar that he chose a Persian to illustrate his theory of leadership, but there is one most obvious reason for that. As he tells us himself, Cyrus ruled the largest empire the world had ever known and that meant that he had acquired phenomenal success. If he had won this success without being Xenophon's ideal leader, then Xenophon's theory was left high and dry. It was all very well to prove that his ideal leaders secured success for their armies and their poleis by using the methods he endorses; but it was much more impressive that his methods should have Page 14 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks acquired this largest ever empire. From the negative point of view one might say that until he proved his theory in the greatest examples, it remained open to challenge. The preface to Cyropaedia reflects Socrates' interest in the dynamics between leaders and followers. From the outset the work grapples with the need for the leader to acquire obedience in a (p.26) world that is divided into leaders and followers. As Plato and Aristotle were, so Xenophon is concerned about the stability of regimes, and he finds the answer in good leadership. He explains in the preface how he had been reflecting that very few governments were stable for very long because of the failure of this dynamic: how all forms of government, democratic, monarchic, oligarchic or tyrannical, were regularly overthrown by those who were governed, and that those that did last even a short time were a source of general wonder; and that even heads of households did not have the capacity to have their households in obedience (χρη̑σθαι πειθομένοις). He contrasts the willing obedience (ἐθελούσας πείθεσθαι) that horses and cattle give to their grooms and herdsmen, in that they go where they are bidden, yield up their ‘fruits’, and do not conspire against them. The comparisons underline the universality of his view that all communities were divided into leaders and followers, even those of animals and their keepers. We encounter in this preface the regular terminology of the ‘willing obedience’ of followers that is the core of Xenophon's theory of leadership. Yet just when he concluded that man was the hardest animal to rule, history told him that Cyrus the Persian acquired obedience (ἐκτήσατο πειθομένους) from the largest empire the world has known and ruled it until his death, and so he decided that rule could be maintained, as long as it is done with ‘knowledge’ ἐπισταμένως(1.1.3) This is of course the Socratic requirement, far more important than any other qualification for leadership. He goes on to explain how followers gave him ‘willing obedience’ in return for this knowledge (ἐθελήσαντας πείθεσθαι, ἤθελον αὐτῳ̑ ὑπακούειν Cyrus led his own Persians ‘with their assent’ (ἑκόντων ἡγήσατο), and he secured assent from the Medes and the Hyrcanians too, major players in eastern politics in that era. This empire, described as the largest the world had ever seen and compared at length with other known empires (1.1.4), is the concrete expression of the εὐδαιμονία or success that Cyrus acquired for the Persians. In his later life Cyrus confirms the Socratic function of leadership as securing eudaimonia for the group, using the same animal image that we found in the preface and in the paradigm of Agamemnon (Mem. 3.2): ‘A saying of his is passed down to us, that he said the functions of a good herdsman and a good king are the (p.27) same. The good herdsman, he said, had to make his herd prosperous (εὐδαίμονα) and make use of them in this condition, which is the prosperity of herd animals, and the good king likewise must make cities and men prosperous (εὐδαίμονας) and make use of them in this condition. It is no wonder, since he had this opinion, Page 15 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks that he was ambitious to outdo all men in the attention he paid to them’ (Cyr. 8.2.14). He claims again on his death‐bed, in the presence of those whose success he has secured (Cyr. 8.7.7–8): ‘I have seen my friends become prosperous (εὐδαίμονας) through me and my enemies enslaved by me’…‘I leave both my land and my friends in a state of prosperity (εὐδαιμονου̑ντας)’. The community for which Cyrus achieved success is in the beginning is the Persian army, which is all that he rules. Later he secures empire for the Persians as whole. His father Cambyses refers to the benefits that have come to the Persians as a result of his conquests in the form of glory and wealth for the best and maintenance and pay for the masses (8.5.23—the maintenance of the poor reminding us of the Poroi). Major episodes in the rest of the work flesh out the thought of the preface. After an account of his childhood, in which he is already winning people to his cause because of his education and his character (1.2–5), Xenophon describes how Cyrus led Persian forces to help defend his uncle's kingdom of Media against the aggression of the Assyrian king. On the eve of this campaign, Cyrus recites what he has learned about leadership and learns more from his father Cambyses in the extended conversation of Cyropaedia 1.6. Cambyses puts great value on achieving personal excellence and becoming kaloskagathos so as to manage and maintain a household correctly (echoes again of Socrates' definition of the kaloskagathos), but even greater value on having the knowledge of how to govern other people so as to maintain them in great plenty and make them all as they should be (1.6.7; ἐπίστασθαι ἀνθρώπων ἄλλων προστατεύειν). Cyrus also learns that although coercion is one way of getting obedience, the best way is to win willing obedience, and the secret of willing obedience is that followers ‘with pleasure’ will obey the commander who, because of his greater knowledge, proves himself to be better than they are themselves in securing the success that is good for them (1.6.21–2). The Socratic improvement of self and of others is taken for granted (Cyr. 1.6.26: καὶ αὐτὸς βελτίων εἰ̑ναι καὶ τοὺς ἑπομένους βελτίονας ἔχειν). (p.28) But the greatest achievement of the leader is to be loved by his followers in a relationship that Xenophon presents as having the same dynamics as Socratic friendship: ‘to being loved by those under command, which seems to me among the greatest achievements, the way is the same as for the one who desires to be loved by his friends: that he be seen, I think, to be doing them good’ (εὐ̑ ποιει̑ν: 1.6.24). The goods that the leader bestows on his followers go well beyond material provision. So Cambyses encourages Cyrus to empathize with his followers in order to win their friendship, rejoicing in their good fortune and sharing in their distress, which is a psychological benefit (1.6.24). This equation of rule with friendship is a regular feature of Xenophon's theory and will be the focus of a later chapter.

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Cyropaedia clears up tensions in the theory of leadership for those who have not followed Socrates' message. Willing obedience is a paradox that balances the two extremes of freedom (willingness) and enslavement (obedience). Xenophon is very much aware of the paradox and works to remove any ambiguity from it. He makes it clear that men who offer willing obedience are free men and not slaves when he has Cyrus distinguish between coerced obedience as the way of slaves and willing obedience as the way of free men (Cyr. 8.6.13). This is when he is giving instruction to the governors of his provinces to imitate his relations with them in their relations with others. He says: ‘I would have you realize this too, that I give none of these instructions (προστάττω) as to slaves, but what I say that you must do, these things, all of them, I try to do myself’. Nothing is slavish if the commander himself performs it, and he must perform what he enjoins on his followers according to the principle of being better than his followers in all ways, which includes enduring the same hardship as they do (above: 1.6.25). Some readers may think that Cyrus is deceiving his audience here, but Xenophon in his own voice, in a passage from his encomium for the Spartan king (Ag. 1.22), makes the same distinction when he is describing the humanity and philanthropy of Agesilaus: ‘he removed the obedience (ὑπηρετου̑σι) of slaves to masters and required of them (προσέταττεν) the obedience (πείθονται) that free men give to their rulers’. The point is reiterated by the Persian noble Chrysantas, when he describes the obedience of Persians like himself to Cyrus: ‘this is the (p.29) difference from slaves, that slaves obey their masters unwillingly, but we, who claim to be worthy of freedom, must willingly do what seems to be most worthy’ (8.1.4). Xenophon himself described Chrysantas as ‘excelling in wisdom’ (ϕρονήσει διαϕέρων), so we should not be doubting his insight. It follows that when the ruler who has proven his superiority to his followers ‘gives orders’ he is relying on an agreed contract with them, to which they have assented freely like free men in the belief that he will secure their success. As for the subject nations, Xenophon's theory of obedience allows for coercion, as we see from the many formulations of the problem of obedience; there ‘willing obedience’ is only better than coercion, and ‘better’ allows for coercion in some circumstances. The preface of Cyropaedia accordingly separates the Persians, Medes, and Hyrcanians, who gave Cyrus willing obedience, from the nations that he conquered, and here Xenophon does mention the role that fear played in his rule, but he places it firmly alongside the desire to please him. ‘He was able to extend fear of himself over such a distance that he affected all and no one tried to rebel against him, and he was also able to create in them such a desire to please him (χαρίζεσθαι) that they thought it right always to be governed by his single will’ (1.1.5). Yet Xenophon restores the priorities of willing over coerced obedience when he later recapitulates their condition with a greater focus on the usual friendship dynamics and no mention of fear (8.6.23: ‘Men were so disposed to him that every nation thought they had a lesser share Page 17 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks if they did not send Cyrus whatever fine plant or animal or invention they had in their territory, every polis likewise, and every individual thought he would get rich if he pleased (χαρίσαιτο) Cyrus. Yes, for Cyrus took from each of them what they had in abundance and gave them back what he saw they lacked (ἀντεδίδου).’). Xenophon could claim support for his presentation of Cyrus from the encomiastic nature of the Persian traditions he says he is following (1.2.1). He could not edit out all the realities of Persian empire, those known from Herodotus for example,30 but we shall see in a (p.30) later chapter that Xenophon softens the realities, for example by eliminating the whips and chains and imposing on the subject nations a more comfortable and philosophic form of subjection—to their appetites.31 Agesilaus

I have referred above to how Xenophon distinguishes between slavish and free obedience in the Agesilaus. In this work, written after the king's death, Xenophon praises his contemporary the Spartan king Agesilaus for his achievements and virtues as military commander and diplomat, subjecting him to his leadership theory and explicitly offering him as a model for imitation (10.2). He indicates in a preface that ‘it is not easy to write a praise worthy of the virtue and repute of Agesilaus’, but he must try (1.1). In the main text he praises Agesilaus for his achievements as war‐leader and diplomat (1–2), for qualities that assisted him in these roles, and which are the requirements of the ideal leader, such as piety, justice, self‐control, and courage, and a sense of humour (3–9), as a model for the pursuit of virtue (10.2), and as one who benefited his homeland even in old age (11.16). His praise is transparent in the narrative sections that describe his successes, and the sections on his virtues one after the other explicitly praise ‘the virtue in his soul;’ that enabled him to produce the achievements in his narrative, and made him love what is noble and shun disgrace (3.1). Throughout he describes these virtues as ‘worthy to reflect on’ (9.3) and praises them; ‘I admire this’ (ἄγαμαι) he says, and ‘I praise’ (ἐπαινω̑); ‘what man would not admire’ (8.4–5) ‘that is noble and high‐ minded in him’ (9.6); ‘These things then I praise in Agesilaus’ (10.1). Xenophon endorses him as a model for the imitation of others at 10.1: ‘The virtue of Agesilaus seems to me to be a paradigm to those who wish to practice manly goodness. Who could become unholy by imitating one who respected the gods and who could become unjust by imitating one who was just and who could become insolent by imitating one who was sober or uncontrolled by imitating one who was controlled’. This echoes his judgement on Socrates at Mem. 1.2.2. (p.31) The other methods he uses to praise Agesilaus include setting up the Persian king and Tissaphernes as foils for his qualities. He summarizes his virtues in the memorable balances and contrasts of the eleventh section.

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Agesilaus himself is said to have defined leadership in the regular way when he notes that ‘He thought that this was the function of a good king too—to bestow most benefits upon his followers’ (7.1). The question of obedience is also raised and described in the usual terms: though Agesilaus had the formal right as king to rule his Spartans, willing obedience is presented as the better way. Xenophon in fact offers as the first proof of Agesilaus' ‘wisdom’ (σοϕία) that he desired to win the willing obedience of his own Spartan soldiers and he firmly equates this with winning their love (6.4): ‘He had his soldiers obeying him and loving him at the same time (ἅμα πειθομένους καὶ ϕιλου̑ντας). Yes, for what line of men would be stronger than when it is well‐ordered through obedience, and faithfully present through love for its commander?’32 In his dealings with other Greeks too, Xenophon praises Agesilaus for winning willing obedience, for instance when he had to abandon the liberation of the Greeks in Asia and return to Greece and they demonstrated their love and willing obedience to him (1.38): ‘The Greeks in Asia mourned him as he left them, not as their ruler only but as their father and comrade. And they showed in the end that their friendship was not feigned. They went willingly (ἐθελούσιοι) to (p.32) the assistance of Sparta, though they knew they would have to fight men stronger than they were.’ Xenophon credits their loyalty to their view that Agesilaus had given them success eudaimonia and had shown them humanity, when he gave instructions that captives be treated as human beings, that children be taken into care if they were abandoned, and that arrangements be made for the care of the elderly (1.20–2). The part that he played in securing eudaimonia for his own polis was to make sure that the Spartans willingly obeyed the laws, which were the source of their success as a polis (Ag. 7.3: ‘If they were to remain still in the laws, it was evident that he reckoned the land would be forever prosperous’ εὐδαίμονα). This puts Agesilaus among those ‘best men’ described in Mem. 4.4.16, who secure the success of their cities by ensuring the citizens' obedience to their laws (below). The attribution of Spartan renown and power to her willing obedience to law is the claim Xenophon makes in his preface to his Constitution of the Spartans: that willing obedience to Lycurgus' laws guaranteed Spartan success. Respublica Lacedaemoniorum

The Spartans indeed willingly obeyed their laws in Agesilaus and Xenophon attributes their greatness to their obedience to laws in the preface to RL, which is the first full account we have of the legendary laws of Lycurgus: Reflecting once that Sparta, though one of the poleis with the smallest populations, emerged most powerful and famous in Greece, I wondered how on earth this came about; but when I grasped the practices of the citizens (ἐπιτηδεύματα), I wondered no more. As for Lycurgus who laid down the laws for them (νόμους), in obedience to which they prospered Page 19 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks (ηὐδαιμόνησαν), I wonder at this man and think him wise in the extreme (εἰς τὸ ἔσχατα σοφόν). He, not by imitating the other poleis but by going against the majority of them in his determinations, made his homeland pre‐ eminent in happiness (προέχουσαν εὐδαιμονίᾳ). Lycurgus is to be considered an ideal leader because he secures the success that is the aim of more personal leadership through his laws. (p.33) Xenophon's Socrates endorses the message of the preface when he also attributes the success of the Spartans to obedience to the laws of Lycurgus, and adds, perhaps thinking of Lycurgus or subsequent kings like Agesilaus, that ‘these are the best leaders in the poleis those who are most responsible for making the citizens obey the laws’ (Mem. 4.4.15–16).33 The work accordingly systematically describes and praises the practices produced by the laws that Lycurgus introduced, from their production of children through to their honour for the elderly. ‘It is worthy to admire this in him too’ (9.1). ‘He also seemed to me to pass a good law in this’ (10.1). ‘How is it not worth admiring greatly this too from Lycurgus’ (10.4). His military reforms and the privileges and constraints he devised for the kings are a feature of section 11–13 and 15. It is clear that Lycurgus is intent on improving the quality of the citizens throughout as an ideal leader should be. The theme of willing obedience becomes the focus when Xenophon describes how Lycurgus put the most powerful men in the polis ‘in agreement’ (ὁμογνώμονας) to his laws before introducing them. This means securing the willing obedience of the kings, who as a result ‘most of all obey the authorities’, thinking that by this they will encourage the others to follow their example in obedience (8.1–2). Together, they set up the ephorate, which is almost exclusively in Xenophon's view designed to ensure obedience to the laws (8.3–4). And among the ‘many other devices for securing willing obedience’ to the laws (8.5: εἰς τὸ πείθεσθαι τοι̑ς νόμοις ἐθέλειν τοὺς πολίτας) Lycurgus gets the endorsement of the laws by Delphi (8.5). This leaves unmentioned the notorious epilogue in RL 14, which declares that the Spartans have declined since abandoning their obedience to the laws of Lycurgus, but that will be part of a subsequent inquiry into the epilogue to Cyropaedia, which declares in a very similar way that the Persians have declined since abandoning the customs that Cyrus devised for their success. These epilogues will turn out to be rhetorical devices designed to confirm the praise of Lycurgus and of Cyrus for making arrangements that secured (p.34) the success of their communities while they remained in obedience to them.34 Hiero

Hiero is a short dialogue between the wise man Simonides and the tyrant Hiero about the relative happiness of the ruler and the non‐ruler; that is to say, of the leader and the follower.35 In this work, Xenophon focuses almost exclusively on Page 20 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks the need for the ruler to win willing obedience as the core of his own happiness as well as the success of his followers. Xenophon writes no preface, but we recognize his leadership theory in the dominating contrast of coerced and willing obedience as the two paths to rulership. In the first half of the discussion Hiero reveals that he governs by fear and coercion because he is ignorant of any other way, and the result is that he believes the ruler's life unhappy since he himself lives under constant threat of assassination and rebellion. In the second part of the dialogue, Simonides clears away his ignorance of how to be happy and shows him that the ruler has the advantage in happiness if he wins willing obedience from his people and removes the nightmare of fear and oppression from his existence and from theirs. Simonides accurately diagnoses the root cause of Hiero's unhappiness as his lack of love and friendship from his subjects: ‘In your present condition I am not surprised that you are out of heart with your rule, since you have a desire to be loved (ϕιλει̑σθαι) by people and think this stands in the way of it’ (8.1). He then offers a vision of reform based on willing obedience and all the other practices required of Xenophon's model rulers, and one which relies totally on his securing the prosperity of his polis, defined in the usual terms of material wealth and security. This work's focus on the ruler's own happiness makes a distinctive contribution to the theory of leadership and shows how the happiness (p.35) of the ruler is impossible unless it rests on the happiness of those he rules. The contrasting outcomes for the ruler of coerced and willing obedience in the first and second half of the work is summarized by Xenophon's Ischomachus, a successful manager of his household (Oec. 21.12): This good thing does not seem wholly human, but divine, to rule over those who are willing (τὸ ἐθελόντων ἄρχειν)…But to tyrannize unwilling followers (τὸ δὲ ἀκόντων τυραννει̑ν), the gods seem to me to give this to those whom they think should lead the life that Tantalus is said to live eternally in Hades, fearing that he might die a second death. Hipparchicus

Xenophon's work on cavalry command is a manual of practical suggestions and technical instruction for the cavalry commander in the Athenian democracy. The cavalry commander is a leader like any other and the operations of his governance are the same as in other works. In fact the advice that Xenophon gives him is an expanded version of the advice he has Socrates give to his elected cavalry commander in the democracy (Mem. 3.3). Socrates tells his commander that his role is to ‘improve’ both horses and men, to assist the polis, and to secure willing obedience (Mem. 3.3.2, 5 etc.). Xenophon likewise tells the commander that he should ‘take care’ to make the horses ‘as they should be’ (οἵους δει̑) and the cavalrymen too ‘as good as possible’ through training and personal example (1.17) and competitions in excellence (1.26). The need for obedience is also directly addressed (1.7). Cavalrymen were subject to Athenian Page 21 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks military law and required to obey their commanders and the laws (e.g. 1.10–15), but Xenophon advises the commander to teach the benefits of obedience to those under his command and reward the good while punishing the bad (1.24). He then insists that he must win their willing obedience in the usual way, by proving better than they are at seeing to their welfare and gaining their affection too. We hear the usual Socratic theory: ‘It is likely that those under command (οἱ ἀρχόμενοι) will be well‐disposed to the commander when he appears kindly toward them and takes (p.36) forethought that they have provisions, that they can retreat safely and camp in security. In guard duty, he must be seen to look to and see to and spend sleepless nights on behalf of those under command in respect of fodder and tents and water and food and other provisions.’… ‘Men will least look down on a commander if, in short, in respect of the commands he gives them, he is evidently himself better than they are in performing them’ (6.1–4). The need to secure the livelihood and protect the lives of followers is the function of leadership in the conversation of Cyrus and his father above: Cyr. 1.6.20–2, and is found also in the explanation of Homer's description of the leadership of Agamemnon at Mem. 3.2.36 The need to perform better than his followers is the classic requirement of the leader, and the equation of leadership dynamics with those of friendship is the regular rule. Poroi

The translated title of this work is ‘Revenues’ and it is addressed to the leaders of the Athenians in their relations with the demos in the period when Athens' attempt at fourth‐century empire was collapsing into warfare against the allies. The preface runs: ‘I have always thought that the nature of the leaders determines the nature of their constitutions. When some of the leaders of the Athenians said that they knew what justice was as much as others, but claimed they were compelled to be unjust concerning the allies because of the poverty of the demos, I tried to consider how the citizens could be fed from their own resources, which is most just, thinking that if this occurred, this would be of assistance to their poverty and also to the suspicion in which the Greeks held them’. The emphasis on feeding and maintenance is in keeping with the functions of leadership, as in the case of the cavalry commander above, the paradigm leadership of Agamemnon (Mem. 3.2), and the conversation between Cyrus and his father (Cyr. 1.6.15). The idea that leaders determine (p.37) constitutions is also recognizable from Cyropaedia (8.8.5). In the body of the work we hear Xenophon recommending specific measures to feed the demos by improving agriculture and trade and the productivity of the silver mines, in the way also recommended to Hiero (Hiero 9). The aim is to secure success and security for the polis (6.1: τὴν πόλιν μετ᾽ ἀσϕαλείας εὐδαιμονου̑σαν). Such maintenance is expected to secure willing obedience from the polis as a whole and particularly from the armed forces that defend it (4.51: ‘If what I recommend is implemented, the polis will have an abundance of money and also be more obedient and more orderly and better in warfare. Those ordered to train Page 22 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks would do this with more care if they received payment…and [those ordered to guard the territory] would be more attentive to that if maintenance were to be provided for each of their tasks’). As in the case of the cavalry commander, Xenophon is supplying details of the knowledge of the economy that Socrates required from young Glaucon as a would‐be leader of the Athenian democracy (Mem. 3.6).37 Anabasis

Xenophon's Anabasis is probably his best‐known work. Here he describes the attempt by Cyrus the Younger to take the kingdom of Persia from his brother, and then the adventures of his ten thousand Greek mercenaries as they made their way back to Greece from the battle in which he was defeated near Babylon. There is no preface, but the work is as much about leadership as those already mentioned because the actions of the leadership are crucial for the security and provisioning of the army. Cyrus leads the army in Book 1 and Xenophon focuses on his leadership qualities in narrative vignettes of willing obedience, such as the one in which he secures willing obedience from his Persians (1.5.8),38 and in the obituary for Cyrus after his death in battle, which evaluates his leadership in terms of his (p.38) relations with others (1.9).39 Xenophon comments in this obituary: ‘To this single man, of all those in our own time, did the greatest number of people positively desire (ἐπεθύμησαν) to offer money and poleis and their own bodies for his use’ (1.9.12). He also wins the regular affection of the ideal commander: ‘From what I hear, I judge that none was beloved by more people, either Greek or non‐Greek’ (1.9.28). It is significant that Xenophon offers the same evidence for his excellence that he has Socrates offer in Oeconomicus 4.18–19: that not a single man deserted Cyrus to join his brother, but many deserted his brother to join him, and that everyone of his company died fighting with him in the final battle except for Ariaeus (cf. An. 1.9.28–30). Socrates is explicit about the value of willing obedience in his description too: ‘I think it a great proof of the virtue of a leader that people willingly obey him and are willing to remain at his side in the midst of dangers’. Xenophon largely presents Cyrus' treatment of followers in the obituary as friendly, but he makes it clear that the perfect leader, like the ‘Xenophon’ we will see below, still inflicted harsh punishments on those who threatened the common good of the community (1.9.13). In the next phase of narrative after the death of Cyrus, the Greek generals come to the fore and their execution at the hands of the Persians produces obituaries of three of them, again with a focus on their leadership qualities or lack of them (Clearchus, Proxenus, Menon: 2.6). Whereas Cyrus is fully praised, the obituaries for Proxenus and Clearchus are studies in only partial success in leadership, since of the two sorts of obedience that the ruler can command, coerced or willing, Clearchus relied solely on coercion to make his men obey him whereas Proxenus relied solely on an attempt to secure affection. Clearchus therefore punished on principle, and he made no distinction between Page 23 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks wrongdoers and others as Cyrus did. He was good in a crisis therefore, when people wanted a strong hand to force them forward, but ‘he never had people follow him out of love or good‐will’ and so his men deserted him when the crisis passed (2.6.12). In contrast to Clearchus, Proxenus, Xenophon's friend, (p.39) was very attractive to the kaloikagathoi; but to the others he was too soft (2.6.19–20). He managed the kaloikagathoi successfully because they responded to his praise of their good performance, but he failed to manage the ‘unjust’ because he punished them merely by withdrawing his praise from them; as a result of this, being as they were, they thought him ‘easily managed’ εὐμεταχειρίστῳ (2.6.20). This reversed the proper relations of leaders and followers, where it was the function of the leader to manage the men and not vice versa. Xenophon has the wise man Simonides give the right advice to the ruler Hiero: that he will have to use fear on some followers even after he has won the favour of the rest (Hiero 10.1). The third in the study, Menon, is presented as a complete perversion of Xenophon's leadership theory, the negative mirror image of Cyrus. This very dark image of leadership is unusual in Xenophon, but it shows that he does not need to be subtle in his blame when he feels that it is justified. Menon, he begins, ruled in order to get the advantage over others and he wanted honour for the same reason. He sought the friendship of the great so that he could get away with crime, and those he seemed to love had most to fear because he found it easier to take advantage of friends than of enemies. A thief and a liar, he loved no one and laughed at all. He won the obedience of his followers by complicity and even leadership in their wrongdoing. And so it goes on, a perversion of leadership theory, ending in a lingering death at the hands of the Persian king that was fitting for one who was so corrupt (2.6.21–27). Xenophon as character then takes up a starring role after their execution, and Xenophon as author evaluates his own leadership qualities in the first sustained study of an author's own achievements that we have from the ancient world.40 We find vignettes of the (p.40) dynamics between him and his followers such as we find for Cyrus and indeed for Clearchus and the others.41 There are vignettes in particular in which Xenophon shames his followers into doing their duty, but for their own good, as when he was the first to rise and chop wood to inspire the rest to rise from their snow blanket of death (4.4.12), and when he swaps place with Soteridas (3.4.46–9).42 In this latter vignette Xenophon shows that quality in which the commander takes a greater share of the hardship than his men, but he shows himself doing this in the face of insubordination, and this strikes the same realistic impression of leadership as the limitations on their leadership in the obituaries for Clearchus and Proxenus. Here he is leading his men into battle and delivers a rousing ‘for king and country’ speech that has no effect at all on Soteridas, who just complains that he and his commander are not on equal terms: (p.41) Xenophon is riding easy on horseback while he is carrying his heavy shield. On hearing his comment Xenophon dismounts and describes Page 24 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks trenchantly how he ‘pushed Soteridas out of his place in the ranks’ and took up his position along with the shield. ‘He happened to be wearing a cavalry breastplate, so that he was weighted down’, but he struggled on manfully behind the rest, giving orders from there. This provokes the rest of his men to come to his rescue, beating and abusing and throwing things at Soteridas, until he took back his shield and his rightful place and allowed Xenophon to command again and secure the success of the mission. Elsewhere, his accessibility as a commander day or night means that he receives helpful intelligence from his men (4.3.10–13). He finds a foil for his better leadership in Chirisophus the Spartan in the story of his treatment of the guide, who is another kind of follower. Xenophon had secured the good‐will of this guide, but Chirisophus had struck him when he failed to take them where he wanted to go. Xenophon blames Chirisophus, but it is not just for the beating: it is because he then failed to keep the guide tied up, allowing him to run away, losing the only good guide they had. Xenophon's comment is trenchant again: ‘he beat him, and did not bind him’ (ἔπαισεν, ἔδησε δ᾽οὐ). He refers to this ‘bad treatment and neglect of the guide’ (ἡ του̑ ἡγέμονος κάκωσις καὶ ἀμέλεια) as the only real difference between the two commanders on the journey (4.6.1–3). He shows ‘Xenophon’ to be capable of deference to Chirisophus even so, which is the mark of the kaloskagathos (4.6.14–16).43 ‘Xenophon’ emerges in these vignettes as a hard‐headed realist facing less than ideal conditions and not always commanding the perfect loyalty of all his men. In another example of this realism he presents ‘Xenophon’ being formally charged for striking one of his soldiers. He interrogates the man who was beaten in the style we will come to see in Xenophon's accounts of trials,44 and he reveals that he struck the man for trying to bury his wounded colleague alive to avoid the effort of carrying him any farther. He goes on to justify beating men if they are a threat to others in the army (5.8.13), or for their own good, like the men who would otherwise have died in the (p.42) snow or have been ‘struck’ by an enemy lance rather than the commander's hand (5.8.16). These are in his view like ‘punishments for the good’ of children by parents or teachers, or punishing treatments of patients by doctors, or of seaman by their superiors when they are in a great storm (5.8.18). He ends by asking the assembly to remember those times he has helped rather than harmed and rewarded good performance as well as punishing bad (5.8.25–6), calling attention to the need to partner reward and punishment that he finds in Cyrus the Younger who also rewarded good performance, but punished severely in the Persian manner those wrongdoers who mocked his authority (1.9.13); in this way, says Xenophon, he made his realm secure for good men who wished to pursue their business without worry— the gold standard again of service to the common good. Xenophon reveals his relations with followers with a further edge of self‐ depreciation in mentioning the bad reputation he has of being too much a ‘lover of the common soldier’ (An. 7.6.4, 39: ϕιλοτρατιώτης), a word so rare in that it is Page 25 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks completely arresting. In other vignettes of his leadership we find that his involvement in the rescue of a lovely boy for the sake of the good soldier Episthenes (7.4.7–11) is a crucial parallel for understanding the role of Agesilaus in the trial of Sphodrias in Hellenica 5.4.25–3345 He also enunciates principles of reciprocity that are crucial to our understanding of the balance sheet of friendships, including those between leaders and followers, when he measures the exchange of good things between friends not in absolute terms, but according to the ability of the giver to give (7.7.36).46 Famously also he asserts the principle found in Cyrus the Great and many others that the greatest wealth a man can have is not to be found in his friends but comes from virtues (7.7.41– 2): I do not think there is anything more noble or brighter than virtue and repute and justice to a man, especially a ruler. The one who has these is rich in the possession of many friends, rich in the possession of others who wish to become his friends, and when he fares well, he has people to share with (p.43) him in his pleasures, and if he falls, he is not at a loss for those who will help him up. Hellenica

Hellenica is a history that picks up the narration of historical events where Thucydides' text stopped and pursues them down to 362 BC and the battle of Mantinea. There is no preface to this work,47 and Greek histories are inevitably about hegemony and leadership of nations and individuals, but Xenophon marks his special interest in praising and blaming leaders in overt evaluations in this work that often serve as a preface to extended sections of narrative that support them and prove them correct. These are exemplified in the extended commentaries on the leadership of Teleutias the Spartan and Iphicrates the Athenian, with the focus on leader/follower relations as well as technical military achievements. These along with similar passages of evaluation from Hellenica will be the focus of the second chapter of this book. They show where Xenophon's interest lies by intruding his first‐person comments into a narrative that is otherwise written in the third person and they are rare enough to constitute his special voice‐print.48 Apart from these evaluations, we find formulaic narrative patterns that Xenophon seems to have created as a display case for his theory of leadership, like the vignettes of willing obedience exemplified in Anabasis 1.5.8 above, and others involving the leader's relations with boys or his reactions to bad news, which will be the subject of the fourth chapter of this book. These formulaic patterns extend beyond relations between leaders and followers in the military sphere to the leader's attitude to criminal justice in the trial of Sphodrias (5.4.25–34). The formula behind that story is found in other versions of the same pattern such as Cyrus' trial of Orontas in Anabasis 1.6, and Cyrus' trial of the Armenian king and of Araspas in Cyropaedia 3.1 and 6.1.31–40. The formula in which a subordinate offends a king because of his appearance of having a (p.44) greater following is also the way to a more Page 26 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks informed reading of Agesilaus' relations with Lysander as his subordinate in Hellenica 3.4.7–11.

The Implications of Universality: A Method of Reading The survey above confirms that Xenophon has a universal definition of the leader's functions wherever they occur. His repeated presentations of its functions guide our readings of his images of power, giving us ‘communities of clear recognition’ and ‘horizons of expectations’ that are our tools of interpretation.49 Their role in how to read Xenophon's detail can now be illustrated in preview as a kind of internal intertextuality, which follows principles of interpretation that most philologists use.50 The main principle is that an interpretation is stronger if it is in line with other parallel passages from the author's own corpus and does not make it anomalous, and that comparisons from the same author are more compelling than from elsewhere.51 For example, the passages above confirm the need for the leader to secure the support and success of the group by being better than they are at serving their interests. We can find a number of passages to this effect that form a kind of topos. (p.45) We begin with the instruction of the cavalry commander in Memorabilia 3.3 on the question of obedience. It reflects the previous examples of willing obedience from the relations of doctors and helmsmen and farmers with their various kinds of followers (Mem. 3.9–11): Have you thought about how the men will obey you? For without this there is no use in horses or men however good and brave. You are right, but how would one turn them to this best? I imagine that you know that in every business men are willing to obey (ἐθέλουσι πείθεσθαι) most the one whom they think to be best. In illness they give most obedience to the one they think to be the best doctor, in a ship the rowers the one they think the best helmsman and in farming the one they think the best farmer. Agreed. So it's likely that in horsemanship too, the man who seems to the others to know best what to do (μάλιστα εἴδως ϕαίνηται ἃ δει̑ ποιει̑ν), this man the others are willing obey most (ἐθέλειν πείθεσθαι). ‘So, if I am evidently (δη̑λος) best, will this be sufficient for me to secure obedience?’ ‘Yes, replies Socrates, if you teach them also that it is better and more life‐saving for them to obey you.’

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks This exact advice can be found in Xenophon's own instruction to his cavalry commander at Hipparchicus 6.1–4: A man can do nothing as he wishes unless the material from which he builds is prepared so as to obey the builder's will. Nor can the commander do anything with men unless men with the god willing are so prepared as to be loving (ϕιλικω̑ς ἔχειν) to their commander and think him more knowledgeable (ϕρονιμώτερον) than themselves in war. It is reasonable to think that those under command will be well disposed to a commander when he is well disposed (ϕιλοϕρονω̑ς) towards them and seems to take thought for their food supply and their safe return and their security in camp…Least of all, in a word would they look down on a ruler who himself seems (ϕαίνοιτο) to them to do better than them if whatever he orders them to do. Xenophon puts the same message in dialogue form into the mouth of the Persian Cambyses in conversation with his son Cyrus in Cyropaedia 1.6.21: (p.46) Whoever men think is more knowledgeable (ϕρονιμώτερον) than themselves about their own interests, this person men with the greatest pleasure obey (ὑπερηδέως πείθονται). You would know that this applies in many other cases, particularly among the ill, how eagerly they summon those who tell them what to do, and at sea how eagerly the rowers obey the helmsman and those who know the ways better than they do, how they cling to them and do not let them go… Are you saying, father, that to get obedience nothing is better than to seem (δοκει̑ν) to be more knowledgeable (ϕρονιμώτερον) than those under command? I am. There is another example in the instruction that Socrates gives Critobulus on how he should not deceive his friends as to his qualities in the acquisition of friends (Mem. 2.6.39): ‘The shortest and safest and noblest path, Critobulus, is to try to be good in whatever you wish to seem to be good’. He has just referred to the inevitably disastrous outcomes for the captain of the helmsman who does not truly possess the skills claimed for him, for the man who pretends to have skills in generalship, justice and running the city, and for the one who pretends he knows how to manage an estate too. Xenophon recycles the basic principle in these passages, and even the examples used to illustrate it: the doctor, the helmsman, and so on. We notice that the food supply and physical security continue to be focuses of the leader's concern for his/her followers. We notice small features of linguistic repetition too, where ‘seeming to be’ gives, in narratological terms, the focalization or perspective of Page 28 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks the soldiers on the greater ability of the commander, which is also conveyed as what they ‘think’ or ‘know’. These are the clichés of his thought about leadership and they build up a picture that does not permit of much exception. In the case of Cyrus, however, references to his ‘seeming’ to be better have been taken as an indication that he is asserting that he intends to deceive his followers into thinking that he is better (only ‘seeming to be’) when he is actually not.52 The parallel cases suggest that Cyrus would be a very singular exception to the rule in (p.47) that case, or that deception is the focus of all the passages; but that cannot apply because for the interlocutor to indicate that he intends to deceive his followers is quite inappropriate in the case of Socrates, where in any case his instructions end with the interlocutor's assent to try to apply what Socrates has recommended (3.3.15); deception is equally inappropriate in the case of Xenophon himself, who is hardly likely to undermine his instruction to cavalry commanders. One of the weaknesses of the subversive readings is that they often give isolated readings uncontrolled by the expectations that the reader of the whole corpus gradually acquires. Reading ‘seeming’ as deceit in isolation might have passing plausibility, but the onus of proof on the isolated reading is heavier when these other passages are brought into the picture. It might be easier to accept that there is no warrant for deception in any of them, but only a stress on the perspective of followers. Another instance of a controlling expectation arises from the requirement of the good leader to feed followers to secure their success (Mem. 3.2; Hipp. 6.2; Hell. 5.1.24). This is also the function of the political leader in the democracy (Mem. 2.1.8–9), where Aristippus argues that the need to feed the demos enslaves the leader to the demos; but Socrates distinguishes voluntary servitude from one that is compelled, and he outlines the rewards of the more voluntary kind of service he finds in true leadership (2.1.17–19). It looks to be another positive measure, then, when in the preface to Poroi Xenophon announces his intention to show how the leaders of Athens can feed the demos. Yet the feeding in Poroi has been interpreted as an action that reduces the demos to servitude. This does not meet the expectations of the conversation with Aristippus, who thinks that it is the leader and not the follower who is enslaved, but might call on Mem. 2.1.1ff., where those who are educated not to rule are enslaved to their appetites, or on Oec. 13.9, where feeding keeps slaves in order (albeit as only one among several other measures). However, we might be swayed into calling on the more positive principle of feeding in the paradigm of Agamemnon when Xenophon tells us how feeding and maintenance would enhance the military qualities of the polis and make those required to train better if they were fed and those detailed to guard the land better too, if they were fed (Poroi 4.51). (p.48) Imagery is another area in which expectations are set. Xenophon frequently uses animal imagery to depict good relations between leaders and followers, referring to cattle and horses, as well as sheep and goats and dogs.53 We have seen above how Socrates compares Agamemnon to the good shepherd Page 29 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks because he provides food and security and success for his flocks (Mem. 3.2) and how he sees the good leader as the keeper of the cattle who increases his herds in quantity as well as in quality (Mem. 1.2. 32). Cyrus in Cyropaedia 8.1.24 re‐ uses the image of the good shepherd for the good leader and stresses his function in securing success for the sheep in his mature definition of his own government: that the good ruler is like the good shepherd or keeper, in that he gives his flocks ‘the eudaimonia that belongs to flocks’ in his ‘use’ of them (Cyr. 8.2.14). In his unreformed condition, Hiero as leader compares the men of talent among his followers with horses of excellence and considers them dangerous when they are not well‐disposed; he is unwilling nevertheless to eliminate such excellence and deprive himself of its use; his problem is of course that he does not know how to use them (Hiero 6.15–16). Simonides indicates that some of his followers will always be like some horses, whose spirit becomes uncontrollable in the midst of plenty (10.2); but most of these followers of excellence Hiero will be able to win to his leadership. Xenophon also speaks in his own voice about these relations between keepers and their animals and not just through images, and he confirms a good relationship between animals and their keepers. For the idea that animals, like men, can be ruled only if they are treated well, there is Xenophon's own De re equestri in which he advises the horse tamer to produce a ‘loving’ disposition in the horse by showing it kindness and consideration and making it ‘mild and amenable and disposed to love men’: πρᾷός τε καὶ χειροήθης καὶ ϕιλάνθρωπος (Equ. 2.3). It is to learn that hunger and thirst and freedom from flies are associated with the presence of men and their absence with the opposite. In this way, he says, men will not only be loved by their horses, but even ‘missed’ in their absence, the language Xenophon regularly uses of friendship. The keeper's duty to improve (p.49) his animals is taken for granted in the image of the cattle from Memorabilia above, and at Oeconomicus 3.11, which indicates that we should blame the herdsman if the flock is in poor condition, and the horseman in the case of a bad horse (and the husband in the case of a wife). In Memorabilia 2.7 the household women are portrayed as the sheep followers, with their relative, who owns the house and has set them to work to earn their living in the midst of impoverishment, as the dog who protects them. He is ashamed that he is idle while they work, but Socrates tells him a fable here, where the flocks have voices and reproach the shepherd: we give you wool and lambs and cheese, but you share your food with the dog and we have nothing but our pasture. How is that fair? But the dog replies that they could not in fact get their food without his protection against poachers and wolves (2.7.13–14). The range of the products they give for their owner's use reminds us that ancient flocks were not kept solely in order to be sent to the abattoir: some lambs were sacrificed, but wool and milk depends on having healthy livestock in good condition, protected from wolves and enjoying their own eudaimonia. These women had been destitute too, but were now making an honest and noble Page 30 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks living under the protection of their relative's roof and Xenophon emphasizes their happiness in their work. Xenophon also has other images of dogs not as leaders protecting the flocks, but as followers of their human owners. In one conversation Socrates urges a younger brother to improve the elder brother by taking the initiative in winning back his brother's love as he would win the affection of a dog. The relations of the master with the dog turn out to be as kindly as that with the horse. Socrates thinks a man taming a dog would show it kindness and be good to it, and so he advises the younger brother to ‘contrive’ measures of this kind to ‘tame’ the elder, who is not behaving well (2.3.9 πραΰνειν, 2.3.16 καταπραΰνειν). These consist of doing good to him in word and in action: to call him to share sacrifice, to mind his property when he is away and other small courtesies.54 The difference from the dog is only in the nature of the benefit, not the basic reciprocity. (p.50) So when we come to the animal analogy in the preface to Cyropaedia —‘We also reflected that rulers include the keepers of cattle and horses’ grooms, and all those called keepers of flocks would properly be styled rulers of the animals they oversee'—and we then go on to read that these keepers secure far more willing obedience from their animals than men do from other men, since they allow their keepers to use their products as they wish (τοι̑ς καρποι̑ς τοι̑ς γιγνομένοις ἐξ αὐτω̑ν ἐω̑σι τοὺς νομέας χρη̑σθαι οὕτως ὅπως ἂν αὐτοὶ βούλωνται: 1.1.2), we have these positive images in mind. I would argue that Xenophon is emphasizing good relations that are the product of care and kindness and the general desire to produce eudaimonia for followers, which is in accordance with the surface impression we have of what Cyrus secured for his empire. It has been taken in isolation as a negative image for human rulers and followers on the grounds that it reduces human followers to the status of dumb and passive and exploited animals, but this needs to be aligned to the more regular impressions of such images in Xenophon's repertoire.55 The taming of animals in Xenophon's animal imagery also equates to other processes that make followers amenable to instruction for their growth and good. Xenophon's account of the partnership of husband and wife for mutual benefit in Oeconomicus indicates that the husband first made his wife ‘manageable’ and ‘fostered’ her (Oec. 7.10 χειροήθης, ἐτετιθάσευτο).56 This process echoes the taming of the horse above, with kindness, and also the taming of one brother by (p.51) the other. We may assume then, even though the methods are not specified, that she was ‘tamed’ by loving gestures to cooperate with her older husband and will ‘hearken’ to him, in the same way as the older brother would in response to such gestures (2.3.16: ὑπακούσεται). The eventual equality of their relationship is dramatically expressed in his hope that in her management of the household wealth, including the servants, his wife will prove ‘better than myself and make me your servant too’ (7.42). In fact this ‘taming’ can be recognized as a part of the Socratic instructional process, in which Socrates must reduce the pride of pupils of great natural potential, such Page 31 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks as Euthydemus, before they are amenable to his ‘instruction’. In ‘taming’ we are then looking at an image that describes the regular preliminary to instruction and is allied to the general function of all leaders in their organization, which was to make their followers ‘as they should be’ to achieve their success. Of course these expectations need careful handling: too narrow an identification of expectations can stifle legitimate and deviant readings.57 The case of Poroi shows that there can be conflicting expectations about the content of a passage, and the reading can only be settled by examining the effects of the application of both of them and how far the text accommodates the one or the other. Even where there is only one demonstrated expectation, similar passages can reveal differences as well as similarities, and we might well find negative as well as positive images of leadership within the same framework. That is certainly a possibility, but the consistency of the thought in the passages above seems to send very clear signals.

Xenophon's Purpose and Audience ‘Mirror of princes’ literature regularly creates images for imitation and avoidance and Xenophon presents images for pursuance and (p.52) avoidance in imitation of Socrates, whose instruction as he expresses it was ‘what habits to pursue and what to avoid’ (e.g. Mem. 4.5.12 on the purpose of dialectic: ‘to separate out in categories the most important matters, and to choose the good and abstain from the bad’; also the language of turning away from the bad and turning towards the good and of ‘approving and disapproving’, e.g. Mem. 1.7.1 but passim). He offers mainly positive images for imitation, but the obituaries for the Greek generals include the model of Cyrus for imitation, the model of Menon for avoidance, and the models of Clearchus and Proxenus for avoidance and for imitation. One of his completely positive models is Socrates. Xenophon invites followers to imitate his practices at the beginning of his account of his conversations in Memorabilia: ‘How he seemed to me to assist his companions, showing his own character in his actions, and in his conversations with them. I will write as much as I remember’ (Mem. 1.3.1; cf. 1.2.3 ‘by manifestly being the kind of man he was, he made his associates hope they would become the same kind of men by imitating him’). An example of this imitation is found in Euthydemus, who was so convinced he would amount to nothing without Socrates' assistance that he ‘imitated’ some of his practices (Mem. 4.2.40). Xenophon takes this imitation for granted throughout, for instance when he argues that the man of virtue is incapable of corruption of others because the model he sets for imitation is a good one (Mem. 1.2.1–8). He uses the same argument when he presents Agesilaus as a model for imitation: ‘Just as the rule and measure were a glorious discovery for making things right so the virtue of Agesilaus is a glorious paradigm for those wishing to practice excellence; for who, in imitating a god‐fearing man could become godless…?’ (10.2). In the Constitution of the Spartans Xenophon encourages whole poleis to imitate Lycurgus' practices in order to achieve success when he comments that none of Page 32 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks the other Greeks ‘is willing (ἐθέλει) to imitate the practices, though they all admire them’; this is because of the hardship they entail (10.8). In Oeconomicus, Socrates offers Critobulus the model of Cyrus the Younger as a manager of an estate (4.4–25): ‘Surely we are not ashamed to imitate the king of the Persians? They say that he, thinking farming and warfare to be among the finest and most necessary pursuits, pays the utmost attention to both’. He encouraged Pericles the Younger to (p.53) secure military success for the Athenians by having them imitate the practices of their ancestors or others pre‐eminent in his own times for military virtue (Mem. 3.5.14): ‘If they investigate the practices of their ancestors and practice them no less than they did, they would be no worse than they were, or otherwise if they imitated those who hold the first place nowadays, adopting the same practices as these, by following the same course as they do, they would be no worse then they are, and if they use more care, they would become even better’. Xenophon's ideal leaders themselves endorse the educative value of imitation. Cyrus offers his virtuous practices for his followers to imitate (8.1.21–39). The kings of Sparta set an example of obedience for the Spartans to imitate and their example is particularly impressive because of their high standing (RL 8.1–2). We will see in Chapter 4 that Xenophon had a theory of narrative representation that tapped this impulse towards imitation not only in his characters but also in his readers. As has been suggested above, Xenophon probably directed these models for imitation and avoidance at those kinds of men that his Socrates addressed, the kaloikagathoi, the ‘fine and good’.58 This is likely because Xenophon has Socrates define them as those who had a special interest in leadership and desired, as he said, to be successful managers of relations with ‘their families and households, their kinship groups and friends, their polis and their fellow members of the polis’ (Mem. 1.2.48). He repeats this definition of their interests in terms of leadership at Mem. 4.1.2: ‘He judged noble natures by their ability to learn swiftly what they applied themselves to, and to remember what they learned and to desire all the knowledge that allows a man to run his household well, and his polis, and generally have successful dealing with men and human affairs’.59 From Xenophon's works they would learn the correct management of their communities that would win them the enthusiastic and cooperative following that leaders enjoyed, and give their communities greater (p.54) success. They are the likeliest audience for his technical works on horses and hunting as well because of their wealth. Their common education at the hands of Socrates and their interest in management give them those shared horizons of expectation about leadership and other matters that are found in the Socratic works. They may not have all been in real life as Xenophon portrays them in the Socratic works, but we can imagine him developing his values in dialogue with these kaloikagathoi, beginning in real life from his time with Socrates, and continuing his dialogue with them during his adventures in Asia and in his exile in the Peloponnese. Xenophon also defined kaloikagathoi outside the Socratic Page 33 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks circle such as his Theban friend Proxenus in Anabasis. He had paid for instruction from Gorgias of Leontini rather than obtaining it freely from Socrates, but Xenophon suggests that Gorgias also taught leadership when he says that ‘when Proxenus kept company with Gorgias, thinking that he was already capable of ruling and as a friend to the great of not being defeated in bestowing benefit upon them, he came to these achievements with Cyrus’ (2.6.16–17). Proxenus did not live to read Xenophon's works, but he was a type who would have had much to learn about effective management from them. Others whom Xenophon defines as kaloikagathoi outside the Socratic circle include Procles of Phlius (Hell. 6.5.38) and Polydamas of Thessaly (Hell. 6.1.2–3) and these might have formed his audience, as well as Agesilaus and his son Archidamus and others among the Spartans, not to mention the leaders of the Athenians mentioned in Poroi. His contemporaries in the Socratic circle grew old, but the legacy of Socratic thought spread, not least through pupils like Xenophon.

Flaws in the Glass? The mirror of princes described above was for centuries clear and true. Xenophon succeeded in winning ancient audiences for his instruction, and the images of power they received were positive. Cicero saw Cyropaedia as a mirror for princes and said that Scipio Africanus never put down his copy of it because it was a mirror without (p.55) flaw.60 He equally admired Xenophon's Agesilaus: referring to Cyrus and Agesilaus as ‘kings of whom no one ever heard a harsh word’.61 In the renaissance, Machiavelli makes eight references to Xenophon, all but one of which presents the surface image of his praise that we have seen in the preface; though there are attempts to make Machiavelli an early ironical reader.62 Jean Luccioni in Les idées politiques et sociales de (p. 56) Xénophon (1947) saw Xenophon as a political opportunist, praising different regimes as and when his interests dictated, but at heart ‘adversaire de la démocratie’, like his master Socrates, and revealing in works like Cyropaedia his dream of enlightened monarchy. Luccioni nevertheless largely accepted the positive surface of the Cyropaedia, both in the preface and in the notorious epilogue to the work, which has since seemed to undermine the praise by charting the decline of the empire he had created once he died. The only delving he did below the surface was to suggest that in creating the ideal monarch, Xenophon was creating a model for Greek conquest of Asia.63 In more recent times, there has emerged a different kind of reading that finds dark impressions beneath the surface of praise in (p.57) Xenophon's images of power. This credits these darker readings to Xenophon himself and has him condemn them or, subverting normal moral expectations, praise them as morally preferable. Leo Strauss was pioneering such readings about the same time as Luccioni wrote.64 The motive he alleged for the hidden meanings he detected was the problem of the philosopher in politics and society: that he would not survive long if he did not conceal his views. Strauss found that Xenophon hinted Page 34 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks at subtexts of blame not only in Socratic works, but in other forms of dialogue too, such as the conversation between the ruler and the wise man in Hiero.65 Dialogues are admittedly open forms of discourse that lack authorial guidance toward the true meaning, but darker images were found even in works that were on the surface completely ‘closed’ by narrator comment in the form of prefaces, such as RL. Strauss detected beneath the apparently straightforward praise of the educational practices that Lycurgus introduced to make Sparta powerful and famous, a ‘most ably disguised satire on Spartan lack of education’.66 Strauss had not devoted himself to Cyropaedia, but in his passing references he set the direction for those who followed him. So in his On Tyranny, pp. 194–5, he suggested that Xenophon was critical of Cyrus for the change of regime from republicanism to an oriental despotism that contained the seeds of its own ruin, beginning even with Cyrus' first speech at 1.5. Since his time, there has been a revolution in reading Xenophon, particularly among political scientists.67 W. E. Higgins (1977) wrote a short survey of Xenophon's works that has proven highly influential, focusing on Xenophon's view of relations between the individual and the polis and advertising his adoption of Strauss's ideas in the preface. Strauss, he said, has ‘displayed before the text a critical humility which should always have been present but which a scholarly tradition, more concerned to berate than explicate, seems to have lost’ and ‘has understood, as (p.58) few have, the absolute need to read between the lines and to appreciate the centrality of irony in a Socratic context’ (p. xiii). His identification of Socratic irony as the source is significant and maybe wrong; a later chapter will show that the larger part of Xenophon's Socratic irony is not subversive. Higgins had noted that irony had been dismissed as ‘a critical magic wand, as the last expedient of despairing commentators’ (p. xiii), but in a series of chapters he followed Strauss's interpretations to produce a reading of Hiero in which Hiero does not mean what he says and has no intention of following the advice of Simonides (60–5) and of Cyropaedia, in which Cyrus, though admirable, sowed the seeds of the subsequent Persian decline (44–59 and 57–8 on the epilogue). Xenophon does not mean his own praise of the laws of Lycurgus either (67–75) and the epilogue at RL 14 is ‘only the most blunt and visible part of an integrated conception’ that undermines the praise throughout the body of the work (p. 67). A pervasive theme is that of decline from past glories, so that Xenophon's remark that Teleutias' achievement of willing obedience was worthier than any stratagem, danger, or expenditure at Hellenica 5.1.4 takes his admission that he achieved none of the usual achievements as proof that Xenophon saw ‘little of what he considered genuinely epic character in what he had to relate…because he saw in their very quality and motivation…something flawed at best and shabby at worst’ (124–5). Pierre Carlier (1978 = 2010) pursued the idea that Xenophon is ironically criticizing Cyrus' government of his empire in order to indicate to Greeks who might be thinking of conquest of the Persian empire that the price of conquest is Page 35 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks oppressive centralized monarchy of the kind allegedly represented by Cyrus. Cyropaedia then generated four monographs, two of which read the apparent praise of Cyrus as covert blame on the grand scale. James Tatum in Xenophon's Imperial Fiction (1989) began with the reception of Cyropaedia and seemed to be giving his own modern reception of the meaning of the text (‘a recognition of the role that theories of reception can play in the recovery of ancient literature’, p. xiv). But he eventually credited the meanings he uncovered to Xenophon's authorial intention, discovering a negative undercurrent even in the ‘disarmingly informative’ prologue, where Xenophon praises Cyrus as ‘worthy of admiration’ (1.1.6) and concluding: ‘So long as we regard everyone (p.59) Cyrus meets as a person to be controlled, as someone potentially useful for the future course of his empire, we shall be of the same mind as Cyrus and the writer who created him’ (p. 66). Tatum then unpacked this dark vision from episodes throughout Cyropaedia in some highly entertaining paraphrases. His explanation of the epilogue, where Xenophon describes the decline of the Persians in his own time—similar to the epilogue that marks the decline of the Spartans from their previous perfection in RL 14—was that Xenophon felt the gap between his ideals and the real world he lived in (p. 50: the constant counterpoint between his praise and the reality), so much so that he eventually turned his work into a narrative of disillusionment (pp. 215–39), which represents Xenophon's perception of the limits of writing (217) in an artistic creation that was always subject to constant revision, change, and decline (225). The plainer part of his thesis is that Xenophon wrote the epilogue for self‐ serving reasons, to preserve his reputation with the Greeks (225) and the old idea that Cyrus sowed the seeds of the decline of the empire he had created, by failing to educate his sons, whose quarrel begins the decline (225–34). Tatum may have been playing games in creating his vision of Cyrus, but he found followers who seemed more serious, such as Christopher Nadon in Xenophon's Prince (2001), who wrote a monograph on how Cyrus corrupted the republican values of his original homeland in a decline from ‘republicanism’ to ‘empire’.68 Meanwhile there was some resistance to darker readings. Bodil Due (1989) upheld the surface reading of Cyropaedia and tried to explain away the tensions that had been detected as grounds for the darker readings. Deborah Gera in Xenophon's Cyropaedia (1993) examined the influence on the work of Socratic dialogue, literary symposia, and novellas, mostly resisting Tatum's readings, but finding a darker view of Cyrus emerging once he has established his empire (286–99). Others followed Strauss in ironizing Xenophon's teaching in Oeconomicus.69 The dialogue is said to contain tensions that have (p.60) Xenophon question Ischomachus' credentials as a kaloskagathos, and in spite of the apparently positive light in which Xenophon presents Ischomachus and his wife as leaders of a model household, her subsequent history is said to undermine this surface impression and make her education a failure. The evidence for this is found in Page 36 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Andocides, who charged her with immorality in his On the Mysteries 124–7, where in an attempt to blacken the reputation of Callias, the hereditary priest of the Mysteries, who appears in Xenophon's Hellenica as well as his Symposium, he parodies Callias' priesthood of ‘the mother and daughter’ in the Eleusinian mysteries (Demeter and Persephone) and claims that Callias in sequence dishonoured the daughter of Ischomachus, and then her mother, who subsequently bore him a son.70 Andocides' smear is taken to be true in spite of the litigious context. Negative readings of Xenophon's images of power also followed Higgins on Hellenica. Christopher Tuplin's The Failings of Empire (1993) detected beneath apparent objectivity a sustained series of criticisms of imperialism and all its practitioners, with a special focus on Sparta. Xenophon does come out straight and condemn Spartan imperialism at 5.4.1, but the rest relies on unstated contradiction and tensions, undermining the impression of good governance as well as other achievements (e.g. p. 77): ‘But it must be understood that it is a contention of the present study that we are not to expect sermons as a matter of course. Xenophon's method is more subtle and ironic, and consists largely of letting the material he has selected speak for itself.’ The explanation of his concealment was found in his continuing personal sentiment about Sparta that prevented him from speaking openly, and he used other players such as Thebes and Athens to (p.61) present an objective‐looking contrast to Spartan corruption (pp. 167–8). Anabasis has not yielded much to such readings. Xenophon's praise of Cyrus the Younger has been questioned, for its inclusion of his harsh punishments for example,71 but his studies of the Greek generals deal out praise and blame at the same time, as described above, so there is no invitation to subversive readings. There have been no recorded attempts to say that Xenophon subverts his own positive image of himself in the narrative, though he has been thought to mislead his audience into accepting a praise of self that is false.72 There is a tension between Xenophon as author and his presentation of himself as character, chiefly in that as author he knows what happened to the character whereas the character himself is ignorant, but that produces ironies that are all too apparent and not of the concealed type that are found in his other images of power.73 Most recently Vincent Azoulay, Xénophon et les grâces du pouvoir (2004) revived Luccioni's view that Xenophon favours autocracy, but had him do this ironically through a process of double entendre he called ‘glissage’ (slippage). Focusing on Xenophon's interest in reciprocity in relations between rulers and followers, which is by all accounts a central theme throughout his works, and taking in the full range of his works, he found concealed imbalance behind every single instance of Xenophon's apparently positive reciprocity except the partnership between brothers mentioned at Mem. 2.3. The surface suggests that for Page 37 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Xenophon human relations, such as the ruler's relations with his followers, secure the common good of their association, but in this more subtle reading one party inevitably gains the upper hand and commands the other's obedience, making him subject to exploitation. Following the line established by Tatum, Azoulay says that though Xenophon talks of relations between rulers and followers in terms of love, the ruler is, particularly in that (p.62) relationship, ‘using’ and exploiting those who love him. Xenophon does not say so overtly, of course, but his representation of reciprocity slides almost imperceptibly from an apparent bonding of equals into autocracy, from horizontal operations into vertical ones, in which the giver of favour secures power over the recipient. It appears that though talking about equality, even Socrates is encouraging people to dominate each other. Xenophon is credited with a slippery character to match (pp. 10–25).

The Features of the Darker Readings and Their Challenges It is important to assess these readings because they affect our reception of Xenophon's instruction in leadership. There is a risk of using a steam‐roller to crack a nut (if monographs can be rated that slight), but it seems that a significant number of modern readers have accepted that Xenophon is not the colonel Blimp he was once supposed to be but ‘a sophisticated faux‐naif manipulator of the written word, a man with a straight face and a glint in the eye’,74 and irony of this kind has become the main literary feature perceived in his work,75 even though others will agree, I know, that the overall effect of ironic readings is too much to accept when they so systematically undermine Xenophon's overt praise in so many of his works and make him unable to speak plainly in any of them or to praise anyone sincerely at any point. One of the methods of assessment is to check the horizons of expectation they bring to their readings against those expectations that we find in Xenophon's own works. They will be found very often to impose on Xenophon's writings horizons of attitude and belief and even language that cannot be found elsewhere in and are even contradicted by his works. This opens them up to the criticism that: ‘A coherent interpretation of a text which results in that text's (p. 63) becoming anomalous within its author's oeuvre, or its author anomalous within his culture, is suspect’.76 Another method is to check these ironies against the general expectations of Greek literature and the ancient reports we have of Xenophon's works. The number of his alleged ironies and their coverage of entire narrative works make him a practitioner on an unprecedented scale and a complete revolutionary as a writer, but that there is no sign of the recognition of this achievement in any of the ancient reports about his writing. The methods he is said to use to undermine his praise go well beyond those that Plutarch describes in elucidating Herodotus' malignity (855–6b): to use words that looked bad rather than good, such as ‘madness’ for ‘carelessness’, to go out of one's way to blame some Page 38 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks characters while sparing others, to omit to praise, or to praise without enthusiasm while blaming with gusto, to choose the worse version of events where there is a variant tradition. Another difficulty is that the darker ironies do not account for the very different ironies that can be found in Xenophon's other works. These other ironies will be explored in Chapter 7, but the results of that chapter can be anticipated here. His alleged ironies are uniformly dark and they make him a man of monumentally modern cynicism because they systematically destroy seeming virtue and uncover hidden vice. Their spirit is that of Theopompus, who was likened to the surgeon who cut away the bad flesh, in his revelation for instance that the ‘man‐killers’ of Philip's court were ‘man‐kissers’, even if Theopompus conveys his blame in an altogether clearer manner.77 Yet Xenophon credits ironies to the kaloikagathoi in the Socratic works that have a spirit that is much lighter and send more positive messages, with little tendency to conceal blame beneath praise. Another feature of these lighter ironies is that Xenophon transmits leaden signals of their ironies, whereas the darker ironies signal their processes in a subtle way. The ironist can signal his irony through direct comments from himself or his characters, but also through contradiction, a discordant analogy, allusion, or image, praise too exaggerated to believe, selections and omissions, facial (p.64) gestures or tone in live delivery (and these can be described in writing too).78 There are also ‘communities of clear recognition’ and ‘horizons of expectations’ in the audience arising from shared perceptions. Xenophon's lighter Socratic ironies bring the reader's attention to the ironies in the most obvious way, through direct authorial comment on the ironic process or the comments of other characters, making them completely unlike Straussian ironies, which must lack clear signals because their messages to the coterie cannot risk being found out by hoi polloi. Xenophon's audiences would have to have an almost split personality to accommodate both types of irony. There is also the difficulty of finding motives for his darker ironic processes. This arises from the intentionality credited to his ironies; they are not presented as ‘reader reception’ but as ‘authorial intention’,79 and therefore as ‘closed’ or ‘stable’,80 rather than ‘open’.81 His dark messages are the ones he intends to send rather than leaving the (p.65) meaning open to readers to decide, and he must therefore have motives for using irony. The motive that has been offered most often is the desire to avoid offending his audience by sending them a direct message.82 This might be likened to the motive for the ‘covert allusion’, which in ancient theory is used to avoid offending a man of power: those who deal with men of power are reluctant to give direct advice because the man of power might dismiss, imprison, or kill his adviser, and this was a special risk for the wise.83 Strauss credits Xenophon with a special version of this motive: that the philosopher is in conflict with the polis because of his wisdom and their ignorance, and that he must dissimulate to survive and also to attract only those Page 39 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks who can see through his dissimulation.84 But finding an audience for the narrative works that might inspire this kind of fear in Xenophon is not a straightforward matter, particularly for Cyropaedia, which portrays a king long dead, shows no fear of contemporary Persian audiences even if they could read the work, and seems unlikely to be offending Greek audiences by showing Cyrus to be an autocrat. There is the suggestion that Xenophon used irony to (p.66) impress audiences with his cleverness by playing games.85 The desire to appear clever is less in evidence in ancient theory, and it seems implausible to have Xenophon prepared to play games about matters of leadership that he elsewhere treats with the utmost seriousness. In this attribution of motives, darker readings pay little attention to the literary motives that should be the most important drivers for a serious ironical writer. Irony by the usual definition works two levels of meaning by saying one thing and meaning another,86 but the process does not just require us to choose between the surface or the hidden meaning or necessarily adopt the hidden one. In modern critical thought about ambiguity the simple assertion of the subtext over the surface text would be considered naive, but few ironical readings of Xenophon adequately explore this tension. This tension can make an idea more effective by working the two levels of meaning, reinforcing the intended meaning by increasing its richness and making the audience think about the discrepancy. Cleverness is involved, but it is not the aim. The wish not to offend the audience may exist, but it does not get in the way of the tension.87 We will find that the lighter ironies of the kaloikagathoi in the Socratic works create this tension and that it enriches their more positive meaning. Xenophon's Socrates makes utterances that are often both true and false at the same time, depending on the circumstances that surround them. Simonides' view that the ruler is happier than the non‐ruler in Hiero is a case in point, since the ruler is happier if he adopts Xenophon's leadership theory, but not otherwise. (p.67) A final difficulty is the appeal of the darker ironies to the ancient audience. Xenophon's Socrates shows an ironic persona that is playful and attractive in his lighter ironies, but the author of the darker ironies is more taunting than playful and not very attractive: ‘The ironist's virtue is mental alertness and agility. His business is to make life unbearable for the troglodytes, to keep open house for ideas, to go on asking questions’.88 The invitation to the troglodytes to join the ironic circle is by definition not a feature of Straussian irony, with its messages sent only to the coterie.89 Yet the evidence from Symposium and other Socratic works is that this more taunting ironic persona had no appeal to the circle of the kaloikagathoi to which Xenophon belonged, as we shall see.

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Conclusion The coherent theory of leadership that emerges from Xenophon's Socratic works makes it unwise to read any of his images of power without reference to its expectations. We have seen how he presents his images through prefaces, but there are many more devices that advance his theory in his narratives, such as his overt evaluations of leadership, his use of his predecessors, his creation of formulaic scenes for the same purpose. Some fine recent publications have examined how Xenophon uses some of these devices, but there is a need for something more extensive.90 The need may be reflected in the collections of papers edited by Christopher Tuplin and Robin Lane Fox, which contain a wealth of excellent discussion on the content of his works,91 but less on the literary techniques that guide our interpretation of that content. (p.68) The fuller examination of the narrative devices that Xenophon uses to produce his images of power will reveal an artist fully engaged with the literary processes of his day and making innovations also in literary theory. The readings they produce will show that Xenophon is unlikely to authorize the darker readings that are credited to him, but there is a need also for some sustained critique of the methods of the darker readings. There has been little done in a sustained way,92 and perhaps with good reason, since no one courts a reputation as a troglodyte. Xenophon's darker readers can also position themselves comfortably in the mainstream current of authorial ironies in other genres, such as Greek tragedy;93 Virgil's presentation of Augustus and his regime;94 and Tacitus' presentation as a ‘sceptical historian’.95 The bewildering range of the modern understanding of irony is another difficulty, which can produce emphasis or precision, be decorative or subsidiary, produce complexity and richness or simple imprecision, be playful or offensive, ingratiating or duplicitous, destructive or corrective, and include or exclude audiences.96 Yet some direct critique is necessary and I ask the reader's indulgence for that as well as for lapses in my understanding of the sometimes complicated thought processes of (p.69) some ironical readers. Some of Xenophon's works will receive more attention than others because of the greater interest of their narrative techniques or their greater contribution to the theory of leadership or because they have received more ironic attention than others; but the volume as a whole covers as many as serve these aims. The original design of this book included a sustained demonstration of how Xenophon's theory of leadership meets the requirements of modern democratic management theory, but this comparison is now confined to passing references and to the conclusion, having been ambushed by the more pressing demands of how to read his works in their own right. Notes:

(1) The ‘mirror of princes’ describes literature that gives direct instruction in rulership to princes or creates an image of rule for imitation or avoidance. It is exemplified in Machiavelli's Prince. Tatum (1989), 4–9 has an excellent summary Page 41 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks of the history of the genre leading up to Cyropaedia. On Xenophon's life and works if needed, see Diogenes Laertius VP 48–59, and Anderson (1974), with Xenophon's own autobiographical information in Xenophon's Anabasis, esp 3.1 and 5.3. (2) Books useful for analysing the reading of literature include surveys such as Selden and Widdowson (1993); and on ancient literature: Most (1994); Harrison (2001); Heath (2003). (3) For the general influence of Socrates on Xenophon's works, see Gera (1993), 130–1 and throughout the chapter on ‘Socrates in Persia’, 26–131. (4) This is emphasized in Dorion (2001) = Gray (2010), 283–5. (5) These began with Leo Strauss (see Bibliography and see the analysis below on pp. 54–62). (6) Memorabilia, a defence of Socrates against the charges of his trial, Oeconomicus, in which Socrates teaches what he has learned about estate management, Symposium, which describes the play of the Socratic circle, Apologia, which explains why Socrates refuses to give a defence of himself at his trial. (7) Among recent surveys of the trial see Brickhouse and Smith (2002). (8) This insistence on his usefulness is evidenced in the title of Longo (1959): Aner ophelimos. For a survey of the contents of Memorabilia, see Gray (1998). Xenophon's Socrates emerges as a different sort of man from Plato's, more of a teacher than an intellectual, more didactic than ironical. Older views found the Xenophontic Socrates irreconcilable with the Platonic, but the recent trend as exemplified by Morrison (1994) reconciles the Xenophontic and Platonic, but gives full value to Xenophon's representation. (9) It has been argued that there is such irony in Memorabilia 4.4, where Socrates is said to question the surface equation of justice with obedience to the laws in a hidden way; but these interpretations are controversial among modern readers and it might fairly be offered as a general argument against such hidden messages that ambiguity would endanger Xenophon's defence if the masses were able to detect it. See pp. 363–8. (10) See pp. 300–4. (11) Due (1989), 147–84 outlines the qualities of the ideal leader as perceived in Cyropaedia. See from a more military angle: Hutchinson (2000). (12) Aristotle thus asks which part of the community should have the ‘the sovereign power’ τί δει̑ κύριον εἰ̑ναι τη̑ς πόλεως: Politics 1281a11. Page 42 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks (13) Cyrus the Great ‘does a Socrates’ when he also divides his nations into those who will rule and those who will never think of challenging for rule: Cyr. 8.1.33–4: p. 282–3. The idea that lack of control is the barrier even to those who have the knowledge to rule is a common thought in Xenophon: Oec. 1.16–23 and 20: where farmers fail to make their land productive even though they know about agriculture and win obedience from their workers, because their appetites and passions distract them from implementing their knowledge and consume their profits. (14) Eudaimonia. The translation ‘success’ works in speaking of groups in moral as well as material terms (below), but more personal kinds of eudaimonia are better translated as ‘happiness’. The term sums up the purpose of community and individual life as Aristotle was to define it in the introduction to his Politics 1252a1–7: that every association (κοινωνία) aims at some good (ἀγαθόν). For the various ingredients of success and happiness as the aim of leadership, see the next section below pp. 12–15. (15) See further on this passage pp. 22, 26, 36, 47–8, 124–6. (16) ‘To make people better, to make them as they should be, to make them as good as they can be’: βέλτιους ποιει̑ν, ποιει̑ν οἵους δει̑, ἀρίστους ποιει̑ν, is the aim of Socratic instruction of his associates as his followers (Mem. 1.2.61, 1.4.1, 4.8.6, 4.8.10, Symp. 3.4, 3.7 etc.), of the instruction to Cyrus to improve members of his armed forces (Cyr. 1.6.7; cf. 3.3.38, 8.1.16, 8.1.22) and the instruction from Socrates to cavalry commanders to improve their cavalrymen and their horses (Mem. 3.3.2–3). (17) See pp. 20–22, 59–60 on their partnership. Pomeroy (1994), 34–9 on the wife of Ischomachus, compares Xenophon's ‘liberal or even radical’ views on women with Aristotle's and Plato's more conservative ones. She commented that the wife's obedience to her husband is ‘not demeaning’, nor should it be since it is conceived as a willing obedience. (18) Gastil (1997), 155–78, especially p. 156. The modern distinction between transactional leadership, in which the follower follows for his own good, and transformational leadership, in which the leader and the follower are transformed by leadership, is in Sashkin and Rosenbach (1998), 61–85. (19) See further on this passage: pp. 128–9. (20) For the brothers' conversation: pp. 300–4. (21) Morrison (1994) takes this conversation as a classic example of Socrates' method of instruction. (22) The image in Hellenica 3.2.28 of the house of the democratic leader being filled by supporters as by a stream of bees is explicable in these terms. Page 43 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks (23) Oec. 11–15, with Pomeroy (1994) 65–7. Mem. 3.13.4 shows that Socrates thinks that masters are responsible for the improvement of their slaves; when Socrates found a man beating his slave for greed and laziness, he asked him who was more to blame: the slave or the master? (24) See pp. 283–8. (25) Johnstone (1994), 231–2, = Gray (2010), 154 reads this passage for its universality. Προστάτης or ‘person in charge’, is one of the many words for leaders of the polis, particularly in contexts where the leader is in relation to his followers: Mem. 1.1.8, 1.2.32, 1.2.40, 2.8.4, 3.6.1, Poroi 1.1, Hiero 11.5; and for the master of a household: Mem. 2.7.9. (26) Subversive readings regularly read the ‘use’ of others as exploitation: pp. 298–300. (27) This universality is not admitted by Aristotle, who argued that the polis was different from the household, because the polis was a community of equals whereas the household included natural inferiors (women and slaves) (Pol. 1252a8–17). (28) Aristotle endorses equality under the law as the best form of government, but he argues that if there is a man whose virtue and justice is supreme, it would be unjust to subject him to the rule of others as equals (equality means ruling and being ruled in turn) because he would be ‘like a god among men’ (Politics 1284a3ff.). He recognizes that others will give such a man their willing obedience because they will not think it right to rule him, for that would be like claiming to rule Zeus. It is then ‘in accordance with nature’ for them to assent gladly to his rule. He returns to this man during his discussion of types of kingship: 1287a8ff. and elsewhere (1288a15ff.). (29) The positive interpretation here follows that of Luccioni (1947) and Due (1989). Among negative interpretations are those of Tatum (1989) and Nadon (2001). (30) The question whether he represents genuine Persian realities is discussed in Gera (1993), 13–22. See also Sancisi‐Weerdenburg (1985), Masaracchia (1996), Tuplin (2004b). (31) For this episode see pp. 282–3. (32) Higgins (1977), 76–82 accepts the surface praise, but Azoulay (2004a), 305– 10 reads Agesilaus' relations with others as a kind of suffocating domination through the giving of excessive and unrepayable favours. I have found by oral report a trend of thought that says that fulsome praise inevitably conceals hidden blame—simply because no person can be so perfect. I suppose that those who accept this point of view would have to say the same of blame: that no Page 44 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks person is so perfectly bad as not to have his good points; and that we should read between the lines to detect the hidden praise there too. The effect is then to collapse the distinction between praise and blame and to reduce those praised or blamed to the same mediocrity. The question would also arise as to why Xenophon chose overt praise for some and overt blame for others, when he really means his readers to detect the corollary in both cases. Is there some greater degree of good in the one who is overtly praised and vice versa in the one who is overtly blamed? This mode of reading also defies the belief in the ancient world that perfect goodness was indeed possible and that occasions such as the courtroom and the funeral needed to endorse a point of view for belief that was not undermined by hidden corollaries. (33) Strauss (1939) found blame beneath the apparent praise, such as the hidden implication that the laws give no freedom to the individual. Higgins (1977) 66–75 develops Strauss. (34) See pp. 246–55. (35) This interpretation follows the introduction and commentary on Hiero in Gray (2007a). Strauss (1948) = (2000) offers an interpretation in which nothing that either of the two interlocutors says is sincere. See pp. 170–7. (36) I know of no negative readings of the operations of leadership in this work. Even Azoulay (2004a), 99 allows the cavalry commander to carry out the functions of leadership transparently. (37) There is a larger debate about the purpose of Poroi as outlined in Gauthier (1984). Azoulay (2004a), 221–30 reads Xenophon's recommendations as designed to reduce the demos to political apathy. (38) See pp. 181–3. (39) See Momigliano (1971), 51–4 on Xenophon's contribution to biography in these obituaries and elsewhere. Higgins (1977), 82–6 questions the praise of Cyrus. See pp. 71–4 on the obituary. (40) Xenophon chooses a strategy for his self‐presentation that involves writing about his achievements in the third person as ‘Xenophon’, not naming himself as author either, and crediting the authorship of what appears to be his Anabasis to the pseudonymous ‘Themistogenes of Syracuse’ at Hell. 3.1.1–2. His decision not to write about himself in the first person is understandable, since the naming of characters had been in the narrative tradition since Homer and the replacement of ‘Xenophon’ with ‘I’ would forfeit that form of identity. His desire not to name himself as author is less readily understandable and even less so his attribution of authorship to Themistogenes. The naming of the author was regular in historical writing. Herodotus and Thucydides had named themselves as authors Page 45 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks in their prefaces, Herodotus used ‘I’ in describing his inquiry, Thucydides used the first person of his experience of the plague (2.48.3) and in describing his authorial activity (the preface, 5.26.5–6), as well as the third person for his narrative achievements (4.104–6). Plutarch, Moralia 345E attributed Xenophon's pseudonymous anonymity to his desire to make the account of his own achievements more believable by preferring the glory of the actor to the glory of the writer: ‘Xenophon himself became a history of himself in recording his generalship and his successes and that they were composed by Themistogenes the Syracusan in order that he be more persuasive in speaking of himslf as another and giving the glory of writing to another as a gift (χαριζόμενος)’. He might have thought that his gifting of the glory of writing to another projected a character not given to authorial self‐promotion and therefore unlikely to be promoting himself as a character either. This objectification was confirmed by his presentation of ‘Xenophon’ as a man who is not always a complete success, for instance in failing always to have ideal relations with his followers (see the episode with Soteridas and the charge he had to answer of beating men below, as well as his underlining of his folly in ignoring the warnings of Socrates against going on the expedition in the first place and thereby bringing about his own exile: An. 3.1.4–10). See for earlier work MacLaren (1934). Høegs (1950); Gray (2004a). For the general problem of self‐praise in historical writing: Marincola (1997), 161–3, 170–1, 175–216, and for the origins of autobiography in the defence of self, which certainly applies to Anabasis: Most (1989). Xenophon could not have thought that the pseudonym would fool anyone into believing what he said of himself, but the power of a narrative that objectified his achievement was something that could never be over‐rated. (41) Xenophon's self‐presentation: Higgins (1977) 88–98 gives an assessment of a man who is deluded in the fame and fortune that he hopes to achieve through his leadership, but does not question the dynamics of his leadership. Azoulay (2004b), 193–7 thinks he is defensive about taking payment as a mercenary. (42) See pp. 180–3 for these episodes. (43) For this episode: pp. 362–3. (44) For this episode: pp. 212–32. (45) For this episode: pp. 227–31. (46) For this measure; pp. 304–12. (47) On the problems of the beginning of the Hellenica: MacLaren (1979). Gray (1991), (2004a). (48) See Gray (2003a), 111–15 for these evaluations.

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks (49) These are common terms in the analysis of the audience reception of texts: Selden and Widdowson (1993), 53, 59, Colebrook (2003), 16–18. (50) Most (1994), 133–4 sets them out. His ‘economy of consumption’ prefers an interpretation that can explain more of the text. His ‘economy of expense’ prefers the interpretation that requires fewest ad hoc hypotheses. His ‘economy of scope’ prefers the interpretation that does not make the passage anomalous within the author's work or the author within his culture. See also for interpretation of classical texts: Harrison (2001); Heath (2003). (51) Heath (2003), 120: ‘we are likely to achieve a better understanding of ancient texts (or more precisely a better answer to the kinds of questions that I am asking about ancient texts) if we allow a sustained but critical use of ancient testimony to inform our reconstruction…than if we rely on assumptions…without sustained reference to ancient testimony’. (52) See pp. 100–4, 265–7: Nadon (2001), 164–78 credits Cyrus with only a ‘show’ of the virtues of command. (53) On Xenophon and animals, see L'Allier (2004), and my review in Phoenix 60 (2006) 378–80. (54) See pp. 300–4 for the view of the relations between brothers as that of leader and follower. (55) Tatum (1989), 63–6 believes that the keeper must appear kindly to his animals, but will eat them at the first opportunity. He calls this how ‘animal husbandry teaches human beings to treat animals’. This ignores Xenophon's other images, his inclusion of horses in the list, which are far too valuable to be slaughtered for their meat, as well as his specific comments on the husbandry of horses; cattle are also too valuable as beasts of burden to serve a primarily edible function. He refers to Thrasymachus' view in Plato's Republic that shepherds and cowherds raise their animals only in their own interest, but according to Carlier (1978) = Gray (2010), 329 n. 4: ‘Socrates replies that a herdsman, insofar as he is a herdsman, has no other role than to procure the greatest possible good for his herd; if he devours or sells his sheep, he is no more a herdsman but becomes a feaster or a businessman (345d, cf. 343c)’. Xenophon recognizes that animals, though they have no speech, still learn to obey by the same methods used of men (Oec. 13.7–8). (56) The latter word ‘fostering’ is used again in a positive sense of Cyrus' ‘care’ for the girl who was to become his wife when they were young: Cyr. 8.5.19. (57) Selden and Widdowson (1993), 59–60; see also p. 37f., where context allows the same phenomenon to be read as ironic in one place and not in another, such

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks as archaic language, normal in epic, but ironic when Pope uses it to satirize the antiquarian. (58) Due (1989), 234–5 makes brief comments about his audience. (59) Such success is presented also as man's greatest achievement at Cyr. 1.6.7. Roscalla (2004) says they have perfect Platonic justness. Xenophon does not define them by class or status, but by their ‘correct usage’ of the people and things with which they deal; class is no barrier to achieving that, nor does class mean that it is necessarily achieved. (60) Ep. ad Qu. 1.1.23: Cyrus ille a Xenophonte non ad historiae fidem scriptus sed ad effigiem iusti imperi, cuius summa gravitas ab illo philosopho cum singulari comitate coniungitur; quos quidem libros non sine causa noster ille Africanus de manibus ponere non solebat; nullum est enim praetermissum in iis officium diligentis et moderati imperi. ‘Xenophon's Cyrus is not written for accuracy but for an image of the good ruler, whose high seriousness is joined with singular grace by that philosopher; our dear Africanus not without reason did not let the book out of his hands; there is no duty missing in it of a diligent and moderate rulership.’ (61) Ep. ad Qu. 1.2.7, quorum regum summo imperio nemo umquam verbum ullum asperius audivit; ‘of which kings no one ever heard a word of any harshness’. (62) Discourses 3.20 praises the humanity of Cyrus in Cyropaedia: ‘History also shows us how much the people desire to find such virtues in great men, and how much they are extolled by historians and biographers of princes, and by those who trace their proper course of conduct. Amongst these, Xenophon takes great pains to show how many victories, how much honor and fame, Cyrus gained by his humanity and affability, and by his not having exhibited a single instance of pride, cruelty, or luxuriousness, nor of any other of the vices that are apt to stain the lives of men’—trans. C. Detmold. Discourses 3.22 praises the same qualities. Prince 14 says ‘And whoever reads the life of Cyrus, written by Xenophon, will not fail to recognize afterwards, in the life of Scipio, of how much value this imitation was to him, and how closely the latter conformed in point of temperance, affability, humanity, and liberality to the accounts given of Cyrus by Xenophon’, trans. C. Detmold. Machiavelli Discourses 2.13 does say that Cyrus deceived his relative Cyaxares, but he adds this as an afterthought to his main point, which is how Cyrus deceived his enemy the King of Armenia; there is much to praise of course in deceiving enemies and Xenophon shows that in many places (see pp. 265–7). Discourses 3.39 refers later to his ambushes of the Armenian, The case for the darker Cyrus rests on this single mention of his deception of Cyaxares.

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks Newell (1988), 108–30, on p. 109 notes that Strauss began the reading of Machiavelli in an impressionistic way, which he develops. Tatum (1989) uses Machiavelli to colour his own image of Cyrus, p. 135 (how they both approve of deception of the enemy), p. 193 (the alleged manipulation of Cyaxares is a lesson to Machiavelli!), p. 145 (Prince 18, which does not mention Xenophon); Nadon (2001) 13–24 dedicates a section to Machiavelli's reception of Xenophon. In one case he finds another darker reading in Machiavelli apart from the one attested. This is Prince 17. It is a very complicated reading. Nadon (2001) suggests that Machiavelli's view that Scipio's imitation of Xenophon's Cyrus' humanity without violence made him a poor leader reads a covert message into Xenophon, which Scipio failed to understand, which is that the way of humanity is not enough. However, this reading should be balanced against Discourses 3.21, where Machiavelli puts the humanity that he finds in Cyrus and Scipio, alongside the way of force that he finds in Hannibal, and sees the two ways, of force and of humanity, as equally effective, or equally ineffective unless it is perfected (trans. Detmold): ‘it does not matter which way a Captain proceeds, as long as there is in him some great virtu that it permits him to succeed with either method: for (as has been said) there are dangers and defects in both these methods, unless corrected by an extraordinary virtu. And if Scipio and Hannibal, the one by praiseworthy means, the other by detestable ones, obtained the same results…’ (Discourses 3.21). In any case, Machiavelli did not need a covert reading to find the endorsement of force in Xenophon. For Xenophon regularly partners willing obedience, which is won by humanity, with the alternative of coercion. Proxenus in Anabasis 2.6 already shows that humanity without force can be inadequate. Machiavelli is just ignoring Xenophon's prioritizing of humanity over violence and putting them on an equal footing. Rasmussen (2009) follows the general darker reading of Nadon (2001). Machiavelli's references produce a ‘seemingly inconsistent, even paradoxical, account of Xenophon's Cyrus’ p. xv, but the favourable remarks are passed over (Prince 14 and Discourses 3.20 and 22.4–5), to privilege the one darker reading of Discourses 2.13.1. This allows him to pursue a similar line about Machiavelli's view on the humanity that Scipio learned from Xenophon in Prince 14–15; he argues also that it is Scipio who misunderstood the subtlety of the Cyropaedia, whereas Machiavelli understands its endorsement of violence in the subtext (xix, 99). (63) Luccioni (1947) dealt with the full range of Xenophon's works, plumbing them for his political and social ideals. He treats Cyropaedia on pp. 201–54. For readers interested in Xenophon's views on democracy and how opinions have gradually become far less harsh, begin with Luccioni (1947) 108–38 and 280– 303 which recognizes that Xenophon is a moderate, but undercuts his support: ‘He had the greatest impartiality—for a man who did not like the regime’ (138). His support for democracy in Hellenica 2.4 is: ‘une addition au texte primitif’ post 369 BC (pp. 15–17). See for the continuation of this view: Vlastos (1983),

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks 495–515; Rowe (2001), 75 n. 43; Pownall (2004), 65–112; Ober (1998), 50 n. 70. Cf. Gray (2000) and (2004d), and most recently Kroeker (2009). (64) On the role of Leo Strauss as the wise man in modern politics see Norton (2004); Drury (1999), (2005). (65) Strauss (1948/1963/2000). The reprinting shows how influential this text has become. (66) Strauss (1939), 502–36, at p. 531. (67) Apart from Strauss and Nadon (2001): Newell (1983), 889–906, (1988), 108–30—with Straussian analysis of Hiero, Oeconomicus, and Cyropaedia. (68) Followers include Ambler (2001), 1–18, Rasmussen (2009). (69) This begins in Strauss (1972), which maintains that Xenophon wrote this instruction in estate management as a ‘profoundly ironic reply’ to Aristophanes' treatment of Socrates in the Clouds (see his buried references to this idea at pp. 90–1, 159–61, 163). That interpretation has not been pursued, but the view that Xenophon ironizes Socrates' surface praise of Ischomachus has been and the praise of his education of his wife: pp. 157–8. Yun Lee Too (2001) thinks that the structure of the work questions the teaching of Ischomachus (p. 66 working the structural contradiction of Strauss and p. 74 also the linguistic style, which is considered as excessive and therefore false). Harvey (1984) suggests that Xenophon was trying to clear her name after she had been slandered. Most recently, and correctly in my view, Dorion (2008a) argues for no dissonance but complementarity between the ‘economies’ of Socrates and Ischomachus. See further pp. 351–60. (70) For Callias see pp. 105–11, 340–1. (71) See pp. 71–4. (72) See Erbse (1966) = Gray (2010) for a spirited attack on this old line. Azoulay (2004a), 156–63 argues that Xenophon is defending himself against the charge that he served for misthos (monetary payment). (73) Bradley (2001) explores this tension, but it does not read praise as blame or vice versa. (74) Tuplin (2004a), 29. (75) The conference on Xenophon held at the University of Liverpool in July 2009 revealed that the ironic interpretations are still strongly held by large numbers. (76) Most (1994), 133.

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks (77) See Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Letter to Pompey 5, with FGH 115 F.225. (78) Lausberg (1960) = (1998) para. 1244; see also the summary of signals in Booth (1974), 49–56, Kallendorf (2007), 75–6. (79) The concepts of authorial intention and reader receptions are common enough not to need sourcing. Selden and Widdowson (1993), 53f.: ‘The original horizon of expectations only tells us how the work was valued and interpreted when it appeared, but does not establish its meaning finally.’ ‘Our attempts to understand a work will depend on the questions which our own cultural environment allows us to ask.’ But significantly on authorial intention: ‘At the same time we seek to discover the questions which the work itself was trying to answer in its own dialogue with history.’ (80) Booth (1974), 5–7 describes stable irony as the main focus of his book. Stable does not rule out the possibility of exploring the tension between two levels of meaning as long as the message keeps going in the same direction. (81) ‘Open’ irony is more of a modern phenomenon, and its application to stable or premodern texts is questioned. Selden and Widdowson (1993), 168: ‘Poststructuralists…set the text to work against itself and refuse to force it to mean one thing only’, but ‘their desire to resist assertions is itself doomed to failure because only by saying nothing could they prevent us from thinking that they mean something’. There is very little evidence of open irony in ancient texts of praise and blame. Demetrius On Style 291 comments that Aeschines leaves the reader unsure whether he is praising or blaming his subject, but the work he mentions is lost. Isocrates in his Panathenaicus (200 to the end) has a Spartan sympathizer read Isocrates' apparent blame of Sparta as covert praise, but this is not an intended reading: Gray (1994), 223–71. Isocrates' stated agenda in this work is to praise Athens in comparison with Sparta because he wants the praise to be significant; he does not want to compare Athens with a nobody. He carries out his stated agenda in praising Athens in contrast with Sparta. He then breaks his narrative and tells the reader how he read a draft of his speech to his pupils, how they eventually came to think that his criticisms of Sparta were too bitter, and how one pupil, overtly sympathetic to the Spartans, claimed that Isocrates has designed his speech so that it read as apparent criticism of the Spartans and praise of the Athenians, but also as praise of the Spartans. The motive this Spartan sympathizer attributes to Isocrates is his desire to avoid unpopularity with either party, and to demonstrate also how clever he is. Isocrates does not endorse this reading, but he does not refute it either. However, he cannot take the reading seriously because to read the blame as praise would deprive the work of moral purpose by annihilating the force of the comparison of Athens with Sparta and reduce Isocrates' work to self‐regarding flattery, which is an unlikely aim for the rhetorician who seeks to display models of correct behaviour to his pupils. Isocrates seems rather to be exploring the problem of the cost to Page 51 of 53

 

The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks the orator of open criticism, which is the reputation for bitterness that he himself regretted. He raises his concern about the effects for his persuasive persona, and was offered a way out of his dilemma through irony, but decided to bear the consequences of his blame of the Spartans; which is the ultimate effect of the oration. The double reading does not display two possible readings, but calls attention to the only alternative to deserved criticism, which is sham praise, which is unacceptable to the man of integrity. (82) Muecke (1969), 232. (83) Ahl (1984), 105 comments on the covert allusion. The covert allusion is part of the tradition of the meeting of the wise man and the ruler as exemplified by Hiero. Xenophon might confirm a similar motive in his observation that people do not learn from those who do not please them and it was when Socrates was impelled to outright abuse of their vices that Critias and Alcibiades turned away from him (Mem. 1.2.39). (84) Dorion (2001), 93 = Gray (2010), 291–2. (85) Strauss (1939) found this a motive for his ironic reading of RL. Tatum (1989), 35 thinks that the internal audience of Cyropaedia is participating in some kind of game, and external readers as well: ‘Readers who understand the game will find much to learn, as well as much to amuse them. Unknowing and literal‐minded persons are, after all, the chief victims of Cyrus’ imperial designs…But if Xenophon's readers do not understand his particular game, as they often have not, or if they do, and choose not to play…' See also Bakhtin's ‘jouissance’: Selden and Widdowson (1993), 39–42, Colebrook (2003), 20, 41–4. (86) Colebrook (2003), 1, 20: ‘saying what is contrary to what is meant’. Lausberg (1960) = (1998), paras 582–5, defines irony in rhetorical debate, where the speaker is so sure of his own opinion that he adopts his opponents' in order to expose it. (87) Hutcheon (1994), 61–6 proposes a perpetual oscillation between one meaning and the other; she rejects the either/or model. (88) Muecke (1969), 247. (89) See Hutcheon (1994), 89–101 on discursive communities for irony, which Xenophon exemplified in the Socratic circle, and how they create or represent a culture within which ironies can be understood. Booth (1974), 29 says that irony builds communities by letting those innocents outside the circle step inside it. (90) See Due (1989), (1999), (2002), Stadter (1991) and Howie (1996). For the art of narratology, which can explain quite a few features of ancient texts, see in

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The Mirror of Princes or Flaws in the Glass?: General Remarks modern literature: Prince (1980), 7–25 and (1982); and in ancient literature: de Jong et al. (2004) and (2007). (91) Lane Fox (2004a); Tuplin (2004a). Xenophon also has a low literary profile in Marincola (2001). (92) Dorion (2001) = Gray (2010) is a notable exception. Schofield (1999), 34 refers to ‘the Straussians’' excessively ironic interpretations of Plato, as does Nehamas (1998), 35–6. For reviews of Nadon and Azoulay: Gray (2004f), (2006). (93) Character irony in tragedy is universally accepted, where a speaker makes an utterance in which the audience perceives one meaning and the character another, but authorial irony is more controversial: Vellacott (1975). Roisman (2005) explores the idea that in Philoctetes, Neoptolemus' apparent nobility inside the play is undermined by what we know of his cruelty outside it (cf. Ian Storey in his review in BMCR 2006). External dissonances question the view of the matricide in readings of Sophocles' Electra too; Lloyd (2005). Witkin (1993) says: ‘Irony is something of which the eighteenth century became acutely conscious. Classical Greece was not conscious of irony in the same sense at all and although Aristotle and others were explicitly aware of the important aesthetic principles involved in the construction of both comedies and tragedies, irony did not assume a prominent let alone a central role. In the re‐ interpretation of these works, however, it does do so. Much is written on the subject of Sophoclean irony and, because of the nature of the concept of irony as it has developed since the eighteenth century, it matters not at all that Sophocles himself would have been unlikely to see the principle of construction in his work as that of irony.’ (94) See Perkell (1994), 63–74; Thomas (2001). (95) O'Gorman (2000). (96) Hutcheon (1994), 44–53.

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0003

Abstract and Keywords Chapter 2 examines how Xenophon evaluates leaders for praise and blame in authorial comments in historical narrative, and takes a special interest in the engagement of the author with the reader and his concern to protect the integrity of his evaluations. There is some engagement with the darker readings and evaluations that seem to be problematic. Keywords:   historiography, praise and blame, narratology, historical narrative, the obituaries of Anabasis

General Comment Xenophon is in the vanguard of fourth‐century developments in the literature of praise and blame, in the praise of Socrates in the Socratic works, in the encomium of Agesilaus, in the obituaries of Anabasis and in the praise of Cyrus in Cyropaedia.1 He shows his awareness of different forms of praise in Agesilaus (10.2–3): ‘Let no one think that because he is praised after his death this account is a lament, but far rather an encomium’, and he goes on to give as reasons that what he says about the king was also said of him while he was alive. The techniques he uses for his praise, including his explicit authorial evaluations of his leaders, come from the rhetorical tradition of praise and blame of individuals associated with Gorgias and Isocrates and in general with public speaking in the courtroom and the assembly.2 In historical writing too we find Xenophon using these techniques to characterize leaders as part of the tradition that leads to Theopompus and the historians for whom praise and blame of leaders such as Philip and Alexander were a major issue. Xenophon's evaluations can be the Page 1 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing whole aim of works such as RL, which praises Lycurgus throughout, but in historical writing they take the form of more isolated character descriptions or comments that engage the reader in reflection on a character's leadership in what is largely an (p.71) ‘objective’ third‐person narrative. Where praise is Xenophon's main mission, such as in RL, his presentation is largely in the first‐ person voice, but this is rarer in narratives such as Anabasis and Hellenica because such intrusions may slow down the pace and distract from the action if they are not carefully managed. So even in Agesilaus, the narrative of his career (sections 1–2) does not make such a feature of the first person as does the praise of his virtues, and this is the same in Cyropaedia. The use of the first person in third‐person historical narratives is regularly considered to be a sign of a writer's main interests, however,3 and their comparative rarity means that when they occur in Hellenica and Anabasis, and in the narrative sections of Agesilaus, they highlight Xenophon's interests in evaluating leadership. His explicit evaluations often shape whole sections of narrative and their characteristics include engagements by the narrator with the reader and the use of rhetorical proofs and evidence to support the evaluation.

The Obituaries of Anabasis There is a scarcity of first‐person evaluations in Anabasis, but authorial praise and blame of leadership intrudes forcefully into the obituaries. Their focus on leadership has been mentioned in the first chapter, but we can now put them in the context of Xenophon's other evaluations and focus on the horizons of expectation that they meet as well as their literary characteristics and their purposefulness. The authorial voice is very strong. In the obituary for Cyrus the Younger for instance we find direct characterizations of him in the superlative degree as ‘a man who was, after Cyrus the Elder, the most kingly and most worthy of rule, as is agreed by all who seem to have had experience of him’ (1.9.1). He is characterized particularly in terms of his reciprocal relations with others, emphasizing how he helped friends and harmed enemies according to the general principle we meet in Xenophon's accounts of friendship: ‘It was clear that if (p.72) anyone did him good or ill he tried to win the victory over them; and some reported his prayer that he should live long enough to get the victory in recompensing those who did him good and did him harm. To this single man, of all those in our own time, did the greatest number of people positively desire (ἐπεθύμησαν) to offer money and poleis and their own bodies for his use. But one could not say that he let wrongdoers and unjust men mock him, but he punished them most unsparingly of all’ (1.9.11–13). The metaphor of the victory over others in repaying good and harm is endorsed in Xenophon's other descriptions of friendships both public and private elsewhere (Hiero 11.14, Mem. 2.3.17, 2.6.35). The punishment of injustice is described as harsh: men blinded or lacking feet or hands on the highways, but the result is for the common good since honest men can travel anywhere in Cyrus' domains, Greek or non‐Greek, and do their business in security (ἀδεω̑ς), and when the question Page 2 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing of expectation is canvassed we find that Xenophon's leaders regularly punish those who damage the common good. Xenophon's own defence of his beating of wrongdoers for the common good at Anabasis 5.8 dispels any impression that he finds fault in Cyrus' punishments of wrongdoers in principle, and their more barbaric nature is a simple reflection of Persian realities. Other regular assessments of the virtues of a leader include how Cyrus promoted honesty and justice in his followers (δικαιοσύνη: 1.9.15–19) by making those who were honest richer than those who sought unjust gain. We find this precise method used to promote honesty in his household by Ischomachus in Oeconomicus (14.6–8: he prefers this kingly law to those of Dracon and Solon: 14.1–5) and also by Agesilaus in Sparta (Ag. 11.4). We find also in the long treatment of the gifts he gave and his friendliness to others (1.9.20–8) Xenophon's regular thought that the decoration of his friends was more an ornament to himself than his own decoration (1.9.23; cf. for the thought: Hiero 11.3, Cyr. 2.4.1–4, 8.3.4), and that while it was no wonder that he outdid his friends in material gifts because he had more resources, it was a greater wonder that he defeated them in ‘his zeal to oblige them in care and attention’ (1.9.24; cf. Cyr. 8.2.13). The attempts to find fault in (p.73) Xenophon's praise of Cyrus have an uphill struggle against the horizons of expectation in his other works.4 The obituaries use the devices of rhetoric to persuade the audience of their views. In the case of Cyrus, Xenophon is concerned to support his evaluations as if he were in a courtroom and emphasize the evidence for them: ‘So that I, from what I hear, judge that none has been loved by more people, neither Greek nor non‐Greek, and this is a proof of it (τεκμήριον): no one deserted Cyrus for the king even though he was a slave of the king, except for Orontas, who made the attempt; and in his case the man he thought loyal to him soon proved more loyal to Cyrus; but many deserted the king for Cyrus when they were enemies, and these who were most loved by the king, but they thought that good service to Cyrus would get them worthier honour than from the king’. He cites as further ‘evidence’ of Cyrus' excellence and of his ability to judge others that everyone in his company died fighting at his side except for Ariaeus (1.9.28–9). We find this same emphasis on evidence in the almost parallel evaluations of this same Cyrus that Xenophon credits to Socrates at Oeconomicus 4.18–19: that not a single man deserted Cyrus to join his brother, but many deserted his brother to join him, and that everyone of his company died fighting with him in the final battle except Ariaeus. Putting the same praise as he delivered into his mentor's mouth is further ‘evidence’ of the soundness of Xenophon's judgement in Anabasis. Socrates has the luxury of omitting the treachery of Orontas because he is not writing a narrative (Xenophon had made his treachery reflect on the virtue of Cyrus at Anabasis 1.6) but he is as explicit as Xenophon about the value of willing obedience: ‘I think it a great proof of the virtue of a leader that people willingly obey him and are willing to remain at his side in the midst of dangers’. Xenophon does not include in the obituary for Cyrus the stories that he has Page 3 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing Socrates mention about Cyrus' friendly relations with the Spartan Lysander, or the story that (p.74) was told by Lysander himself about Cyrus' love of hard work in Oeconomicus 4.20–5. Yet he may have recourse to evidence such as that when he supports his own evaluations in Cyrus' obituary not just with ‘evidence’ but with the voices of anonymous but contemporary witnesses who are cited for their ‘agreement’ with the author, and for their independent ‘judgement’ and their ‘report’ about Cyrus' relations with others. This is a feature of Xenophon's narrative techniques. Such citations, whether they came from Lysander or any other source, could distance the author from belief in them, but here they chime with his authorial voice as they regularly do elsewhere and become a rhetorical device for persuasion.5 So the kingliness of Cyrus is ‘agreed’ by all who had experience of him (1.9.1). The ‘agreement’ from those who knew him supports the superlative degree as it does also in the superlative characterizations of Cyrus the Great as ‘still to this time said and sung by the barbarians to have been most beautiful in shape, most philanthropic in soul, and most loving of knowledge and most loving of honour’ (Cyr. 1.2.1). Further use of citations like these recurs: he ‘was thought’ best of the boys in his school (1.9.2) and ‘seemed to be’ most modest (1.9.5),6 they ‘judged’ him best in warfare (1.9.5). At 1.9.20 ‘he is agreed to be’ best at courting his friends, at 23 ‘they said’ he did not adorn his own body but found his friends' adornment a greater credit to himself. The obituaries for the Greek generals are similarly rhetorical in their desire to persuade and there are further characterizations in the superlative and uses of proof and evidence. ‘Clearchus by agreement of all who had experience of him had the reputation of being a man most warlike and extremely fond of war’ (2.6.1). A narrative of his early actions concludes: ‘these seem to me to be the actions of a man fond of war…So fond was he of war, and he seemed warlike in this respect too, that he loved danger and day and night he went against the enemy and in danger he was intelligent, as those who were there agree all of them from all quarters’ (2.6.6–7). We see again the support from contemporary witnesses in these and other extracts (p.75) (2.6.1, 7, 8, 11, 15); he ‘was said’ to be a good leader too as far as his nature allowed. The obituaries for Proxenus and Menon do not use the first person as often and they are also less peppered with witnesses, but Menon's lingering death is so witnessed (2.6.29). In Hellenica, there are briefer obituaries, such as the comment on Thrasybulus after his death, to the effect that he had a good reputation (Hell. 4.8.31: below). The scale of Xenophon's Anabasis obituaries and their focus on leadership is a special innovation in historical writing. The general inspiration can be seen in Thucydides' judgement of Nicias on his death,7 and in his ‘obituary’ for Pericles at 2.65, which focuses on the way he controlled the crowd's passions and his incorruptibility and intelligent calculation. But the style of Xenophon's obituaries is most of all in keeping with the tradition of praise and blame in rhetoric, as it appears in the second half of his own ‘obituary’ for Agesilaus, which goes through each of the Spartan king's virtues in turn (Agesilaus 3–11). The Page 4 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing denunciation of Menon's relations with his followers and friends strikes a note in this rhetorical tradition of almost comically savage blame. Xenophon uses the same tone and similar content in the epilogues to Cyropaedia (8.8) and to RL 14, which denounce on the one hand contemporary Spartans and on the other contemporary Persians for moral decline, by contrasting the good character they showed while under the good influence of Lycurgus' laws and Cyrus' rulership respectively with the perverse character they revealed once freed of those good influences.8 In Menon's case the denunciation is in terms of the perversion of the standard values of leadership and friendship found in the obituaries for Cyrus and even Proxenus: ‘To achieve what he wanted he thought the most direct route was through perjuring and deceiving and cheating and that the simple and truthful quality in a man was the same as silliness’ (2.6.22); ‘He thought that one who was not evil was uncultivated. He thought he could secure his attempt to be first in friendship with men by slandering those who were already first. He aspired to get (p.76) obedience from men by sharing in their injustices…he thought it was beneficial service that he had not destroyed one who left him while he was still on good terms with him’ (2.6.26–7). The short sentences capturing the reversals of normal morality resemble Thucydides' description of the reversals brought about by the war in the revolutions that started at Corcyra (3.82), even to the point of the style. Thucydides writes: ‘reckless daring was considered staunch bravery in a friend and reasoned delay a good way of saying cowardice, good sense was a cover for unmanliness, and overall intelligence overall laziness’ (3.82.4). Xenophon's summary of the praise of Agesilaus shows the same, almost Gorgianic, use of short units and euphonic and alliterative antithesis: ‘He sacrificed more when in high spirits than he prayed when he was low’: καὶ θαρρω̑ν πλείονα ἔθυεν ἢ ὀκνω̑ν ηὔχετο. He was accustomed in fear to appear smiling and in success to be gentle. Of his friends he did not most of all treasure the most powerful, but the most loyal' (Ag. 11.3). The style of the obituary for Cyrus is similar (An. 1.9.19: ‘he evidently did not envy those who made a display of their wealth, but tried to make use of the money of those who tried to hide it’, οὐ γὰρ ϕθονω̑ν τοι̑ς ϕανερω̑ς πλουτου̑σιν ἐϕαίνετο, ἀλλὰ πειρώμενος χρη̑σθαι τοι̑ς τω̑ν ἀποκρυπτομένων χρήμασι). The historian Theopompus provides a comparison for Xenophon's denunciation of Menon. He was known for his vitriolic abuse of individuals, which Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in his Letter to Pompey 5, kindly described as a surgeon's cuts, which removed diseased flesh from a healthy body.9 Rhetorical topoi that Theopompus would make his own such as the perversion of the erastes/ eromenos relationship are used by Xenophon of Menon: ‘One could tell lies about what is unclear, but what all know is this: when he was still in his youth he secured the leadership of the mercenaries from Aristippus, he was a great friend of Ariaeus the barbarian, because he delighted in lovely young men, and he himself had a boyfriend Tharypas, bearded when he had not yet grown one’. Compare Theopompus' FGH 121: ‘Hegesilochus, rendered useless with over‐ indulgence in wine and gambling and having no standing at all with the Page 5 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing Rhodians, but slandered for the profligacy of his life by his comrades and the other citizens’; ‘they (p.77) disgraced many respectable women married to the foremost citizens, and they corrupted no few boys and young men. They came to such a pitch of turpitude that they thought fit to gamble with each other for free‐ born women…’ The only difference from Theopompus is that Xenophon focuses more on the relations of Menon with friends and followers. The effect of the denunciation is at least in part to offer an example for avoidance rather than imitation. Nevertheless, blame of this sort is rare in Xenophon, who is more given to praise. Xenophon's obituary for Cyrus may enhance its praise through intertextual engagement with the poetic tradition of obituary, which begins with Homer.We will see Xenophon manipulating Homer in a later chapter,10 and reading Xenophon's obituaries in the light of the Homeric ones can be an enriching experience.11 Homer wrote obituaries in which he pauses in the middle of a duel after the death of a hero in order to remark on his life. For instance, Iliad, 4.473– 89 gives us a statement of the death of the lovely Simoeisios in battle, then a longer account about his birth, his mother and her parents, and how he did not live to repay his nurture, before a short restatement of his death and all its grisly detail; the account of the death concludes with a quite long simile. Much more space goes on the family background and the simile than on the narrative death, and these create a sense of the pathos that is characteristic of the epic vision.12 Xenophon uses a similar structure for the obituary for Cyrus, when he places it straight after the statement of his death, while the battle is still continuing, then returns to the grisly details of his death at the end in the cutting off of his head and hand (1.10.1). There could be some intertextual effect in the details too. Homer stresses the pathos of the death by calling to mind the hero's childhood. Some pathos may come from Xenophon's account of Cyrus' childhood too, in the thought that the man who died had been a model since his childhood, but his main aim is to demonstrate that the qualities shown in childhood fore (p.78) shadow the qualities Cyrus will show as an adult leader. He is described as ‘most respectful of the Persian boys and even more obedient to the elders than those of lesser rank, best at horsemanship and in the arts of war, and when he came of age, best at hunting too’, and we have the story of how he was almost killed by a bear, and ‘made most blessed the one who came to his assistance first in many ways’ (1.9.6). This blessing on the boy who saved his life especially foreshadows the repayment of favour that marks his actions in the rest of the obituary as an adult.13 The evaluations in these obituaries reveal the Xenophon who is capable of criticizing Menon as well as praising Cyrus, and of praising and blaming aspects of leadership within the one man in Clearchus and Proxenus.14 He does not use ironic allusion to convey his real views but shows a strong desire instead to support and protect his explicit evaluations through forms of proof and witness.

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing (p.79) This outspokenness as well as the support and protection are features of evaluations in his other works as well.

Praise and Blame in Hellenica Praise and blame in Hellenica also contrasts successful and unsuccessful leaders, successful and unsuccessful qualities within the same individuals, and instances of successful and unsuccessful campaigns conducted by the one general as well. So Hellenica 4.8.22 contrasts the leadership of Diphridas with Thibron: ‘he was no less pleasant than Thibron, but more disciplined and self‐ controlled as a commander because the pleasures of the flesh did not control him, but always, whatever work was in hand, he attended to this’. The balance of good and bad qualities in the one leader is found at 5.2.28: he was a lover of doing something famous more than of his life, but he did not do much calculation, nor was he very wise; and again at 3.4.29: honour‐loving and stout of courage, but inexperienced in making preparations that were needed. It is for the purpose of contrasting leadership styles too that Xenophon creates Cyaxares as a foil for Cyrus in Cyropaedia or uses the Persian king as a foil for the Spartan king in Agesilaus. It has been suggested that Xenophon may praise one commander only in order to cast allusive blame on another, but here he makes both the praise and the blame explicit.15 Sometimes also he writes straightforward characterizations of those who are leaders of their communities, praising Polydamas' financial honesty for instance at Hellenica 6.1.2: He had a good reputation in the rest of Thessaly, and in his polis he seemed so kaloskagathos that when the Pharsalians were in strife they handed over their acropolis to him as a deposit for safekeeping, and they allowed him to receive the revenues, as much as was written in the laws, and to make payments for religious purposes and other sorts of administration, and he guarded the (p.80) acropolis from these monies and preserved it for them and he gave an account of his administration every year. Whenever there was a shortfall, he made it up from his own revenues, and whenever there was a surplus, he paid himself back. He was besides a generous friend and magnificent in the Thessalian manner. This financial honesty is the dikaiosyne that is praised in Agesilaus 4.1–6. This same Polydamas characterizes Jason of Pherae as a leader in the usual terms (6.1.6: his ‘love of toil’ and how he encouraged his same attitude in his mercenaries; 6.1.15: he can ‘use the night as day’, in the same way as Agesilaus: Ag. 6.6; he is ‘most self‐controlled’ in respect of pleasures). The Engagement with the Reader

Among Xenophon's explicit evaluations for praise and blame, those that appear to engage the reader in discussions about his evaluations are interesting because they show the same rhetorical desire to support and protect the evaluations as the obituaries of Anabasis. Gribble (1998), 49 notes that one of Page 7 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing the special functions of narrator interventions is to recognize tensions in the readership caused by an unusual presentation of events and to attempt to resolve them. This sums up the purpose of many of Xenophon's engagements, in which he seems to recognize that his evaluations are controversial and to announce his discernment as an evaluator, often against a lack of discernment in the readership. They protect his praise from the possibility of ambiguous readings in the audience, particularly the possibility that they will see nothing great to praise in the material he offers. They have special interest for Xenophon's historical writing in that they redefine ‘greatness’ in history as the ability of leaders to win willing obedience and other such leader‐like functions. Historians had always defined history as an account of great achievements, which they often describe as ‘worthy of report’.16 Herodotus' preface announced his agenda of ‘great and marvellous achievements’; these include great buildings such as the Egyptian pyramids, great courage (p.81) such as the Spartans showed at Thermopylae, and the most ingenious schemes of Themistocles. Thucydides also spent his preface proving that the Peloponnesian war was greater than any that preceded it, in the numbers involved, the greatness of the suffering, and the preparations. They understood ‘greatness’ in their own terms. In Hellenica, Xenophon redefines the greatest achievement not as conquest, or building programmes, not even great suffering or cunning, though he admits some greatness in them too, but as successful and admirable human relations, particularly in relation to leadership. They have been thought to offer the only avenue to understanding his definition of history; but their redefinition of greatness needs to be recognized.17 The projection of his discernment as an evaluator as well as his new definition of greatness can be seen in two uses of the intervention in Agesilaus where Xenophon praises the qualities shown by the Spartan king, first as a military leader, and then as one who was self‐controlled, which is also a requisite for the ruler. Example 1

In the first example Xenophon evaluates Agesilaus as one who was able to create the proper disposition in his followers, and he protects his praise against the charge that it lacked discernment. Agesilaus is about to fight the battle of Coronea, having lined up his forces against the four main cities of Greece and their allies. Xenophon comments: I am not going to say that though he had many fewer and much inferior forces, he nevertheless engaged with the enemy. If I said that, I think I would show Agesilaus to be witless and myself foolish, to praise one who recklessly risked a major enterprise. No, this is what I admire, that he got together a force not inferior to the enemy and he armed them to look all bronze and scarlet, and he took pains that the soldiers be able to endure hard work and he filled their hearts with confidence so that they could Page 8 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing fight whoever they had to. And (p.82) he put love of victory in competition against one another into his men that each of them would have the reputation of being best etc. (2.7).18 Xenophon makes it clear here that there were two possible ways of praising Agesilaus and he has chosen the way that was more discerning and more truthful. It happens that the more discerning path he takes involves praising the leadership ability he most admires, which is the leader's improvement of his followers in preparation for battle. The reader might take the suggestion from his remarks that other writers would have praised Agesilaus for deciding to face superior numbers. Xenophon shows this to be foolish in his accounts of other battles. Consider the naval battle of Cnidus in Hellenica 4.3.12, where Peisander lined up against superior numbers at sea. The immediate result was that one wing of his fleet turned tail, his own wing engaged but was driven to the land, and he died fighting there. It may be significant that this example of the folly of lining up against superior numbers precedes the account of the battle of Coronea that Xenophon gives in Hellenica 4.3.15–19, which is the same as the battle described in Agesilaus 2.7 above. In Hellenica Agesilaus is shown having to counter the demoralizing effects of the folly of the naval battle. There is no mention of the naval battle in Agesilaus, but Xenophon's evaluation in Agesilaus might be explained by his consciousness of the effects that it had in Hellenica. Of course Xenophon could admire the courage of facing superior numbers—as long as the troops had a disposition toward their commander and other abilities that would secure their lives against such numbers. Xenophon's greater discrimination in evaluating true greatness makes him the philosopher that Hiero mentioned at Hiero 2.3–5, who can see through superficial appearances to the important truth they cover.19 His comment may be enlightening for a reader who will be expecting the usual praise for facing superior numbers, or criticizing writers who regularly praised in this way. The more mature (p.83) kaloikagathoi in his audience knew from Socrates what was required of a commander and Xenophon's presentation would confirm their knowledge of the difference between wisdom and folly, between discerning action and discerning praise, adding this particular battle to the range of their understanding, alongside the other examples they already had. But at the lower level of understanding, there are the younger Socratic interlocutors, whom Xenophon presents as ignorant indeed. It might well not have dawned on these younger folk that it was folly to praise an action that risked so many followers' lives. In that case they would learn what truly merits praise. Xenophon guarantees his praise of Agesilaus in this engagement by linking it to his own reputation as an evaluator, and then he confirms it further by shaping the subsequent narrative to support it. He describes the outcome of the training he praises in the enthusiastic service of Agesilaus' army, particularly of the eastern Greeks: Ionians and Aeolians and Hellespontines, whom he had recently Page 9 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing recruited, who joined together with the mercenaries of Herippidas and Cyrus, ran out from the main line, grappled with the enemy at close quarters, and routed them. The evaluation explains why these hitherto poor troops were able to defeat mainlanders. Example 2

Xenophon protects his praise of Agesilaus in a slightly different way when he defends him against kissing the beautiful Megabates, which is an area in which the leader needs to demonstrate self‐control.20 The expectation is that leaders must rise above such temptations, and not just from boys (Memorabilia 2.1.4–5, 1.3.8–15) and Xenophon here makes the point that Agesilaus did lust after the boy in order to make his self‐control more amazing (5.4): Concerning his control of sexual passion is it not worthy to commemorate it if for no other reason than for the wonder of it? For a man would say that it was merely human of Agesilaus to refrain from what he did not desire, but he lusted after Megabates the son of Spithridates, just as the most energetic (p.84) nature would love the finest thing, and when according to Persian custom to kiss those one honours, Megabates also tried to kiss Agesilaus, he fought mightily against being kissed; is this not a piece of godlike moderation!21 The narrative is very brief. Megabates offers the kiss. We understand it to be the customary kiss of honour that is reserved for relatives and close friends among the Persians, but Agesilaus finds it dangerously erotic,22 and therefore refuses it. When Megabates interprets this in Persian terms as a mark of dishonour and no longer approaches him, Agesilaus asks a friend to ask Megabates to show him honour again, presumably hoping there is some other gesture he can make, but his friend tells him that this can only mean the kiss. Agesilaus then declares that he would not kiss the boy even if it made him overnight the loveliest, swiftest, and strongest man in the world, but he does wish very much to fight the battle against the kiss again; it is to him preferable than any amount of gold he might acquire (from battle). Xenophon then intervenes again with the engaging comment: And what some people suppose about these things (ταυ̑τα), I know perfectly well. But (μέντοι) I think that I know that many more people can conquer their enemies than can conquer passions like these. But these things (μέν) it is possible for many to disbelieve since few have the knowledge. But (δέ) we all know that the most famous among men are least able to conceal what they do; and no one ever reported seeing Agesilaus doing anything of this sort or would have been believed if he had guessed at probabilities. When he was overseas he never entered a house on his own but bivouacked in the shrines, where it was impossible to do Page 10 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing such a thing, or in the open, making the eyes of the many witnesses to his modesty.23 (p.85) Xenophon ends again by linking his own reputation to that of the subject of his praise: ‘If I lie about these things in the face of the knowledge of Greece, I give him no praise, and I bring blame upon myself’ (5.6–7).24 Xenophon's thought is not obvious. ‘What some people think’ is about ταυ̑τα, which might refer to the whole story, but most grammatically would refer to τὰ ἀϕροδίσια, which is the word used in the original evaluation. An argument that ‘what people think about sexual passion’ is his focus is found in Xenophon's subsequent statement (with transitional μέντοι) that it is in fact harder to conquer the passions than conquer enemies, which spells out the full implications of Agesilaus' reference to the battle. The few who possess knowledge would then possess knowledge about the power and danger of sexual passion, and the many who disbelieve would not have that knowledge. Another focus of surmise would be whether Agesilaus did or did not resist the boy's kisses; and Xenophon goes on to address this by calling on the witness of their eyes, which tells them that Agesilaus could not have indulged in such corruption without being found out because of his very high profile, which put him so much in the public eye and ‘made the eyes of all witness to his modesty’. There is good Socratic precedent for the first question nevertheless as the main focus of the surmise. We find cases where people do surmise that it is not so difficult to control sexual passion and even that it is perfectly safe to kiss beautiful boys. Araspas in Cyropaedia 5.1.9–18 thought it so very easy to resist the passion aroused by the sight of the beautiful Panthea and learned the hard way that it was not. The youthful Xenophon himself thinks that there is no danger in kissing young boys, and he is taught to fight the battle of the kiss in Memorabilia 1.3.8– 14. Socrates speaks to him in terms of ‘military danger’ and tells him to ‘flee headlong’ (ϕεύγειν προτροπάδην) from the kisses of the fair, using the terminology of battle; his description of the effects of kissing is as exaggerated as Agesilaus' description of the sacrifices he would make to fight the battle of the kiss over again. In other passages it is always taken for granted that the passions are harder to conquer than the enemy. After an account of how the desires will (p.86) ruin farmers, including sexual indulgence, Socrates encourages Critobulus to ‘fight against them (διαμάχεσθαι) for freedom no less than against those who try to enslave you in armour’ (Oec. 1.23). If we seek the audience being addressed in this engagement, Xenophon as a young man and Critobulus too could be a measure of the readership, since they once doubted whether it was in fact all that hard to conquer passion or recover from kisses. Xenophon as an adult would then be among the few who possessed knowledge of its destructive power because of his Socratic education, if not his own experience. Agesilaus' control meanwhile makes him a Socrates, who

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing exemplifies ‘safe sex’ as the kind where the passions might be aroused, and the kisses might be close, but could be controlled (Mem. 1.3.4). Xenophon's evaluation therefore supports the positive image of the commander with proof and evidence, but it also raises the question of less informed value systems in the audience reception of his praise of leadership. Xenophon addresses the tension unknowing readers are experiencing about the power of passion, but in the end he appears to give up on them: ‘few are knowing’. It may be that in being referred to as ignorant, the unknowing audience might investigate further. He does however persuade them at least by the evidence of their eyes that Agesilaus did control his passions and in this way protects a major point in his evaluation for praise. It may be that in thinking the passions easy to control, the unknowing admire Agesilaus less, but the kaloikagathoi, who are aware of the difficulty, admire him more. The division of Xenophon's readers in this evaluation into the coterie and the less‐knowing majority recalls Strauss (not that he calls on it in evidence) but Xenophon openly confronts those who might misunderstand or are misinformed and he spells out rather than keeping concealed a message that unknowing members of the audience can easily perceive. The message sent to them is not the kind that needs to be concealed; whether it takes a great effort to control the passions is hardly secret lore. In these examples we might say that by raising the question of disbelief he invites us to share it; but I doubt that he is inviting us to this disbelief when he partners the integrity of his own judgement with the integrity of the praise he is offering, as his final remark makes clear. I am of course accepting that the readership Xenophon describes in these (p.87) engagements is a literary construct, but one that is nevertheless based on some kind of reality. The treatment of the dangers of passion and the inability to resist kisses is taken as a serious subject for presentation to audiences in the Socratic works. We now move to ‘apologetic’ evaluations in Hellenica. These are ones in which Xenophon engages his readers by appearing to apologize for the material he includes. It is of course a rhetorical ploy designed to bring attention to its significance and the worthiness of its inclusion. Teleutias and Iphicrates

Xenophon evaluates the Athenian Iphicrates and the Spartan Teleutias in five explicit evaluations that represent a significant percentage of the total number of evaluations in Hellenica. They have mostly been successful leaders: Teleutias, the half‐brother of Agesilaus, had previous success in naval warfare in the Corinthian gulf (Hell. 4.4.19), Iphicrates in the destruction of the Spartan regiment at Lechaeum (4.5.13–17). Now Xenophon deals out the blame as well as the praise, seeming to make a deliberate display of his lack of prejudice, and this may be designed to protect his evaluations not only against the charge of lack of discernment about the nature of greatness, but also the possible charge of bias.25 This bias was thought to be likely when the historian was evaluating Page 12 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing contemporaries as Xenophon did, because he could be expected to have strong feelings about them. It threatened the credibility of the evaluation as well as the facts that supported it, because historians were thought to distort the facts in order to promote their prejudice.26 Xenophon (p.88) especially courts the charge of bias in Anabasis, where he praises himself, and in order to make the account more persuasive, anticipates Lucian's advice about the historian needing to show his lack of bias by being a stranger in his works, by pretending that the narrator is someone else, who presents the achievements of ‘Xenophon’.27 In the positive evaluation of Teleutias (Hell. 5.1.4) we find the formula in which Xenophon acknowledges that the reader might not consider what he has described as worthy of mention or praise, but encourages him to look more closely and find an achievement of leadership on the grandest scale. He has just described a scene in which the troops Teleutias had commanded gave him an enthusiastic and emotional farewell on his departure.28 The intervention follows: I know that in this I am describing no expenditure, no battle, no cunning plan worthy of report, but I swear that this seems to me worthy of the reflection of a real man (ἀνδρὶ) what was it that Teleutias did that he produced such a disposition in his followers (διέθηκε τοὺς ἀρχομένους). This is an achievement (ἔργον) of a man (ἀνδρὸς) worthier than great amounts of money or fighting. (5.1.4) Xenophon here points to the leader's need to produce the correct disposition in his followers as true greatness as he did in the evaluation in Agesilaus and again protects his judgement against a reader (p.89) who might not appreciate it. The danger is perhaps not that this reader will not believe the enthusiasm Xenophon has described, but that he will dismiss it as insignificant and dismiss the writer as one who does not know what a great achievement is. This reader's expectation of great achievement might be the battles, great expenditures, and cunning plans that he mentions and these might well have been based on the achievements that were commemorated in previous historians too. Xenophon himself elsewhere describes normal achievements such as expenditures, for instance the rebuilding of the walls of Athens, which is the great expenditure of Pharnabazus (4.8.9–11), but in these interventions he announces what is new and redefines the greatest achievement (ἔργον) as successful man management. He can understand a negative reaction to the achievement, but he invites the unknowing reader also to be ‘a real man’—one who after reflection might appreciate the achievement of Teleutias, the ‘real man’. Readers who already know what constitutes greatness will merely delight in the further example that Xenophon has found of his theory.29

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing The evaluation serves as an introduction to how to read the subsequent narrative, which reveals the reasons for the enthusiasm of the men, and gives it a significant structural function in the narrative. The main reason for their obedience is good provisioning, which is a major concern of Xenophon's ideal leader, as he shows in the paradigm of Agamemnon (Mem. 3.2). The commanders who replace Teleutias are unable to provision the fleet (5.1.13), but when Teleutias returns, in a speech which reprises many of the basic qualities of leader/follower dynamics spelled out in the instruction of Cyrus in Cyropaedia 1.6, Xenophon has Teleutias call on their willing support in the cause of their mutual eudaimonia; he announces his intention to secure provisions and share their hunger until he does so, so that they will see him enduring as much as he asks (p.90) them to endure, and he makes an issue of the importance of provisions in pursuing their own policies free of dependence on the Persians and other allies: ‘What is more pleasant than not to fawn on any man, Greek or Persian, for payment, but to be capable of providing our own, and from the noblest source’—he means the enemy (5.1.14–17).30 We see this independence in Cambyses' instruction, when he dissuades Cyrus from reliance on his ally and uncle Cyaxares for provisions for his troops (Cyr. 1.6.9–11). The proof of Teleutias' concern for his men is his attack on Piraeus (5.1.19–24). This begins with a another summary judgement, which explicitly acknowledges the audience again: ‘if anyone supposes that he was foolish/unwise to sail against those who had many ships with only twelve, let him consider the calculation he made’. The focus is the potential folly of an engagement with numerically superior forces. In the evaluation of Agesilaus above, this was dismissed as unworthy of praise, but this time Xenophon finds it praiseworthy because Teleutias engineered a surprise attack, choosing a time and place for his attack where superior numbers would count for nothing. This a great stratagem, seen in terms of leader/follower relations and endorsed by Cambyses in his instruction of Cyrus (Cyr. 1.6.26ff.). Xenophon describes Teleutias' reasoning (5.1.20), and then writes the narrative to support it, using narrative devices such as ‘presentation through negation’, which highlights the foolish course that he did not take, in order to endorse the wise course that he did take, with the focus on securing provisions for the men who love him: when he neared Piraeus he took no action, but moved at dawn; he did not allow anyone to harm a cargo ship, but encouraged them to harm triremes; he thus secured provisions, kept the ships manned and the men willing (5.1.21–4). The passage ends with an explicit reference to how this action and the securing of supplies kept the men in ready and willing obedience to him thereafter (5.1.24). There have been attempts to read the ‘apology’ at Hellenica 5.1.4 in negative terms and have Xenophon hint at the lack of ‘epic’ quality in (p.91) Teleutias' achievement, as something ‘flawed and shabby’ in comparison with the previous era of great expenditures and stratagems and battles, and exemplifying ‘imperialism's intrinsic and sometimes ignoble futility’ in Teleutias' own times.31 Page 14 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing This overlooks the community of expectation that arises from Xenophon's persistent redefinition of greatness in terms of personal relations with followers and his rejection of these earlier kinds of achievements unless they are informed by good leadership. We can certainly find horizons of expectation that reject expenditures as a greater achievement than the finer points of leader/follower relations in another version of his apologetic formula where he assesses the achievement of Cyrus the Younger and Cyrus the Great: And the fact that he had victories over his friends in bestowing great benefits (εὐ̑ ποιου̑ντα) is no wonder (θαυμαστὸν), since he had more resources. But to outdo his friends in care for them (τῃ̑ ἐπιμελείᾳ) and in his enthusiasm to give them delight (χαρίζεσθαι), these things seem to me to be worthy of wonder (ἀγαστὰ). (An. 1.9.24) The same judgement is made of his predecessor Cyrus the Great: And the fact that he surpassed them in the size of his gifts is no wonder (θαυμαστόν), since he was more wealthy. But the fact that he got the better of his friends, though a ruling king, in courtesy and care (θεραπείᾳ καὶ ἐπιμελείὰ), this is more worthy (ἀξιολογώτερον). (Cyr. 8.2.13) In these evaluations as in the case of Teleutias, expenditure is the standard achievement, but the smaller but more difficult achievement is to win followers by making time for personal ‘care and attention’. The same theme, that rulers gain more friends through small gestures than large gifts of money, is found in Hiero 8.3, and in Agesilaus 9.6. Agesilaus encouraged his sister Cynisca to breed horses and win competitions with them, to prove that such victories were just a sign of wealth and not of ‘manly virtue’, while he himself entered a nobler kind of competition, which was to compete in disposing his polis to think him a friend, to benefit others and win friends for himself too, to take vengeance on his enemies and be a victor not in chariot‐racing, but in the finest and most glorious (p.92) competition there is, which is in winning friendship and benefiting friends while conquering enemies. This is a larger version of the victory that his brother Teleutias had in winning the friendship of his men. In another statement of the superiority of rulership over expenditure, Simonides tells Hiero (Hiero 11.7) to compete with other rulers to make his polis the happiest, renouncing his own great expenditures on chariot victories, but in this version the expenditures continue, to be spent on the happiness of the polis as a whole instead of his own private interests. Xenophon evaluates another achievement of Teleutias at 5.3.5–7, this time for outright blame without subtlety. He does not use the apologetic formula but another narrative device when he describes how Teleutias in anger pursued the enemy close to their walls, and then interrupts his account: ‘Many others too have pursued the enemy closer to the walls than is opportune and got back Page 15 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing badly, and these too…were compelled to retreat in complete confusion’. This form of evaluation, in which one example is located in the midst of others, is found in Xenophon's more famous blame of the Spartans at 5.4.1: ‘One could have many other instances to cite, both Greek and barbarian, to prove that gods neglect neither those who offend against them nor against men. But now I will cite the case in hand’. The device not only creates suspense about the outcome but endorses the correctness of the analysis by appealing to multiple other examples where the same thing has caused the disaster. The narrative then supports the criticism when it describes Teleutias' death and the slaughter of his men. Near the walls as they were, they were shot at from the towers and had to retreat, and in the midst of their confusion the gates opened and the enemy came out on them. ‘And Teleutias dies there’. The rest fled and Xenophon vividly compartmentalizes their scattered flight: ‘some to Spartolus, some to Acanthus, some in the direction of Apollonia, the majority in the direction of Potidaea’. He highlights this scattered flight because he wants the reader to notice that their scattering was the death of them. ‘As they fled, each in a different direction, so the enemy, each in a different direction pursuing them, slaughtered large numbers and whatever there was that was of use in the army’. Darker readings give no special attention to outright cases of blame like this. (p.93) A closing evaluation then draws the larger lesson: ‘From such sufferings as these I say that mankind is instructed most of all that it is not right to punish even servants in anger (for often masters have suffered more harm than they inflicted in anger), but to attack an enemy in anger without calculation is a complete blunder. Anger does not look ahead, whereas reason looks to avoiding suffering no less than inflicting harm on the enemy’. This passage confirms the whole of mankind as his audience and the lesson about leadership as a universal one. The Athenian Iphicrates provides another pair of evaluations for praise and blame. The Athenians had appointed him to command the expedition to Corcyra in place of his predecessor, who had wasted time trying to find trained crews (Hell. 6.2.13). Iphicrates solves this problem by taking on inexperienced crews, but training them up as he sailed speedily toward Corcyra (6.2.27ff.). Xenophon describes at some length the variety of measures he took to achieve that combination of speed and training. He made the men use the oar rather than the sails, improving their speed and their fitness. He regularly turned times when they went on shore to eat into a combination of training with speed, practising manoeuvres on the way but ensuring that those who reached shore first ate early and at leisure, while the slower ones had almost to re‐embark as soon as they landed. Clearly there was an incentive for speed. He sent men up the masts where they could see further than those on land, finding a naval equivalent of those elevated positions so dear to watchers on land; he set night fires in front of Page 16 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing the camp rather than within it, so the enemy could be detected approaching, just as Cyrus did in Cyropaedia. He used the night‐time for sailing too, often with the wind, or making the crews row in shifts, and in the daytime they practised battle manoeuvres as they went along. Agesilaus (Ag. 6.6) and Jason of Pherae (Hell. 6.1.15) also use the night‐time as if it were daytime. And so the narrative proceeds, with each action uniquely combining the need for speed with the need for training and fitness and the awareness that the enemy had control of the area until he reached Corcyra. He did not even believe what he heard of the death of the Spartan commander until he reached Cephallenia and found out for certain. Xenophon ends the section with the regular ‘apology’ (6.2.32): ‘I know that all this training and exercise is done when men think they (p.94) are about to fight at sea, but I praise this, that when he had to proceed in a hurry to where he thought he would fight the enemy at sea, he found a way to make his crews not inexperienced of things relating to fighting at sea in spite of the journey, but not to arrive there more slowly on account of the practice.’ Once again, he defends himself against the charge of praising nothing worthy of praise and therefore lacking judgement, and suggests that he has greater powers of perception than his audience. Once again, the greatness found is in man management. Iphicrates' arrival at Corcyra after the defeat and death of the Spartan commander has been thought to take the gloss off the praise, and his subsequent capture of the Syracusan fleet is also downplayed and his leadership deemed un‐Xenophontic (6.2.34–6).32 Yet his victory meets the direct expectations of ideal leadership in that it is a direct result of the excellence of the crews he had trained. So when Iphicrates arranges an attack on the convoy as they come to land on Corcyra and warns the crews that they will be punished if they do not follow at the signal, Xenophon uses what we recognize as the ‘programmatic’ introduction to scenes of willing obedience to signal his excellence: ‘their enthusiasm was a sight worth seeing’,33 as all his men positively ‘ran’ to the ships at his signal (6.2.34–6); they captured those who had disembarked, and then captured most of the Syracusan contingent operating there, whose people they sold for ransom. This ransom and the profits it made for the fleet becomes the centre of Xenophon's narrative; we have the story of a set sum for each prisoner and of the guarantees taken for their lives, as well as the hope of a larger sum for their commander; his suicide indicates how bad the defeat was; the financial theme continues in how he turned his sailors to farming for the Corcyreans (their lands devastated in the war). Xenophon praises Iphicrates for his selection of colleagues for this campaign as well (6.2.39): ‘I praise this campaign in particular of all of Iphicrates' campaigns, and further his instruction to choose in addition to himself Callistratus the demagogue, who was not on (p.95) good terms with him, and Chabrias, who had a big reputation as a general…’. The placing of this praise at the end of the Page 17 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing expedition out of its annalistic order is the narrative device called analepsis. Placement in its proper annalistic time at the beginning of the campaign would have slowed down the narrative while its delayed placement here when the entire crisis is over and the whole area is under his control puts an effective cap on his achievements.34 Xenophon also doubles his praise in his presentation of alternative motives for his selection (either because he thought them wise or because he wanted to show them as enemies how good he was on campaign); he is not concerned about Iphicrates' exact motivation, but for as many possibilities for praise as he can find. His evaluation of Iphicrates as a man ‘of high thoughts’ (μεγαλοφρονου̑ντος) for not fearing the judgement of his enemies could be a criticism of a man whose thoughts were too high, but its positive value must be determined from the general context and the end it served, which was in this case the common good of the expedition; a man without such confidence and integrity might have chosen inferior commanders who were merely his friends and that would have ruined the cause. As with Teleutias, Xenophon follows up his praise of Iphicrates for this campaign with blame of his management of a later campaign. He directly criticizes Iphicrates for his delay and ineffectiveness when he took Athenian troops into the Peloponnese to assist the Spartans (6.5.51–2). His followers were enormously enthusiastic when he set off to the Isthmus: ‘eagerly did they follow him whenever he led them out, eagerly did they attack whenever he led them against some fortress’. But he arrived too late to stop the Spartan allies from disappearing back to their homes with their plunder: οἱ μὲν ἄγοντες, οἱ δὲ ϕέροντες. The Thebans were still in the country, but with diminishing provisions: ‘some of them had been used up, some had been plundered, some had been wasted, and some had been burned’, but Iphicrates still failed to take the advantage (6.5.51–2): If he was a good general on any other occasion, I do not blame him. But his actions on that occasion, I find to have been all useless and even positively unfortunate. (p.96) The negative ‘I do not blame him’ confronts the audience expectation that the narrator might be so prejudiced that he is incapable of praise and it assures the reader that he is not. Xenophon justifies his criticism by appealing to witnesses among Iphicrates' men, who share his critical view: ‘They said that many [of the soldiers involved] turned up for the campaign before Iphicrates' and when he delayed at Corinth ‘they blamed him epsegon [the word the narrator uses of his own blame] for delay at first’ (6.5.49).35 The narrative also supports the narrator's criticism through ‘presentation by negation’ (though he wanted to prevent the Thebans escaping, he left the best pass unguarded), and a negative rhetorical question about his decision to send forward the entire Athenian cavalry and all the Corinthians as scouts. ‘Yet a few are no less able to see than many, and if there is a need to retreat, it is easier for few than many… Page 18 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing And to bring up many who are still inferior to the enemy, how is that not complete madness?’ (6.5.52). Hipparchicus 8.9–11 contains similar lessons about the numbers needed in advancing and retreating in cavalry engagements. The apologetic evaluation is also applied to the Theban leader, Epaminondas, in the campaign leading to the battle of Mantinea that ends Hellenica. Xenophon has already praised Epaminondas outright for his choice of camp (7.5.8), and here after describing his ambitious thoughts and his decision to complete his conquest of the Peloponnese or die in the process Xenophon praises him for the by now entirely customary willingness to fight that he had produced in his followers (7.5.18–19): The fact that he thought like this is no wonder to me; for such thoughts are characteristic of men who love honour. But the fact that he had prepared his army so that they shirked no toil day or night, shrank from no risk, and though they had few provisions, were willing to obey him, this seems to me more wonderful. The pattern of thought is the same as in previous evaluations. Epaminondas' love of honour was worthy enough, and might be (p.97) praised by other writers and some readers, but it is dismissed as an ordinary great achievement, which is surpassed by his worthier ability to win willing obedience. The enthusiasm of the men is made even more impressive by the reminder that this was an army already several times disappointed of their ambitions, and by this time short of provisions—important in Xenophon's leadership theory. How he produced this disposition in his followers is not spelled out, but we know from the evaluation of Teleutias how to reflect on it. Then comes the narrative to support the evaluation, beginning with an arming scene: When he finally announced that there would be a battle, the cavalrymen energetically whitened their helmets at his bidding, the Arcadian hoplites also painted clubs on them, as if they were Thebans, and all of them sharpened their spears and daggers and polished up their shields. Sometimes we find less developed forms of the apologetic evaluation, as in the evaluation of Agesilaus' small service in sending fire to his troops on a very cold night on a windy promontory, which was significant nevertheless because it preserved their morale and kept them at their posts: Thereupon Agesilaus too won fame with a small but timely stratagem (ἔνθα δὴ καὶ ὁ Ἀγησίλαος μικρῳ̑ καιρίῳ δ᾽ ἐνθυμήματι ηὐδοκίμησε 4.5.4).36 Xenophon's ‘small’ represents the implied apology for the achievement, but the timing of the small action gives it greatness. This timing is brought out in the subsequent narrative: ‘Because none of those who took up the food brought fire, and it was cold because of the exceeding height and because there had been a Page 19 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing hailstorm toward evening, and they had gone up in clothing for summer, freezing as they were and with no appetite for dinner in the darkness (no light), Agesilaus sends up no less than ten men with fire in pots.’ Without this, the soldiers might have been too exhausted to engage in battle the following day, or they might have left their position on the mountain. This would have been disastrous since it was their possession of this mountain that gave them the advantage that led to the capture of the place. Xenophon reinforces his evaluation with other (p.98) narrative devices. He suggests that he knows of other cases where small actions have been important because of their timing: ‘Agesilaus as well (as many others)’. Xenophon often draws universal lessons from evaluations such as the philosophical comment on the dangers of acting in anger in any community, which arises from the role anger played in Teleutias' failure; he also of course encourages the reader to draw universal rules of good leadership from Teleutias' success. Something that transcends the praise of the individual is also happening in the evaluation of Agesilaus' confrontation of the retreating Thebans at Coronea (Hellenica 4.3.19), where Xenophon says that he was indisputably brave, and/but (μέντοι) he did not choose (γε) the course that was the safest one. He subsequently explains this (γάρ) by describing the hard fighting, employing classic action asyndeton: ‘they were pushed, they fought, they killed, they died’. This should not be a criticism of Agesilaus for failing to secure the lives of his men because the evaluation recurs in the encomium (Ag. 2.19), where we expect praise. Given the placement of the emphatic particle after the verb, the possible point of the praise could be that he was brave beyond a doubt because he deliberately chose the course that was not safest.37 This comment therefore goes beyond praise to raise the definition of bravery in the reader's mind. Xenophon does not suggest that to meet the enemy head‐on is always the best choice: Agamemnon as ‘shepherd of the flock’ preserves the lives of his men, and in Symposium 3.4 Antisthenes say that justice is an unqualified good, whereas bravery or wisdom can harm friends and city; but in Agesilaus 6.1, Xenophon offers as evidence of Agesilaus' courage that he fought in the front ranks against the strongest enemy head to head, which seems to confirm the positive evaluation; and by making his ‘indisputable bravery’ a matter of choice in Hellenica Xenophon is provoking further thought on its nature. There are other implicit evaluations of Agesilaus' leadership, for instance in the account of the training programme that he organized (p.99) in Ephesus (Hell. 3.4.16–19). This is the training programme that allowed him to win the battle of Coronea above. The exhortation to visualize the effects of the training programme encourages the reflection on the cause of such enthusiasm that we find in the evaluation of Teleutias. ‘Agesilaus made the whole polis in which he was present worthy of view (θέας).’ ‘It was possible to see the gymnasia full of men exercising, the hippodrome full of men riding, and the javelinists and Page 20 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing archers practising their skills.’ ‘A man would take heart seeing this too: Agesilaus at their head and then the rest of the men leaving the gymnasia wearing garlands and dedicating their garlands to Artemis. Where men revere the gods, practise warfare, and train in obedience, how it is not likely that all will be full of high hopes?’ In Anabasis too, this reflection is invited, for instance in the scene in which his noble Persians showed their willing obedience to the command of Cyrus the Younger when he ordered them to get the wagons out of the mud: Then was it possible to see a piece of obedience (εὐταξία).38 Throwing off their purple cloaks on the spot where each man stood, they rushed as one would run to a battle victory, down a very steep slope, wearing these extravagant shirts and embroidered trousers, some of them with torques around their necks and bracelets on their wrists. Along with these, without hesitation they leaped into the mud, quicker than one would have thought possible, and they pulled the wagons out onto dry land. (1.5.8) Other first‐person interventions equate the achievement of leadership with the achievements of gods. Xenophon thus describes the courage of the men of Elis in their defence of Olympia: ‘having proved themselves in virtue such as a god might breathe into a man in a single day, but men could not produce in those who were not naturally valiant over a long period of time’ (7.4.32). The equation between the human and the divine achievement that is implied in the double motivation elevates their achievement to a divine level. The surface impression is the facile belief that only a god could bring (p.100) about such an outcome; the more sophisticated belief is that if men were responsible, great natural talent and training would be required. The accompanying narrative is again marked to support the courage. The contempt in which the Eleans were previously held is repeated in anaphora: ‘previously despised in warfare by the Arcadians and Argives, despised by the Achaeans and Athenians, nevertheless on that day…’ (7.4.30). The Arcadians move from complete confidence that the Eleans will never attack them to such abject fear that they keep watch throughout the night without sleeping and put up defences around their camp. Evaluations Involving the Irony of ‘Seeming to be’

Xenophon's explicit evaluations often involve the use of the phrase ‘seeming to be’. We have seen how this phrase was taken to indicate mere appearance as opposed to reality in the first chapter in the account of how a leader should ‘seem to be’ better than his followers in order to win their obedience (pp. 15– 20). I focus now on its use in explicit evaluations of leaders particularly in Hellenica, mentioning also Cyropaedia. Xenophon's use of ‘seeming’ mainly confirms appearances as realities by focalizing the evaluation from the point of view of contemporaries who were engaging with the leader, often in the form of

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing followers, and this is another way of protecting his judgement from challenge, because it draws on the testimony of these focalizers as witnesses.39 One instance of this is Xenophon's judgement on Thrasybulus, one of the generals who promoted Athenian interests in the Aegean and Hellespont in the 390s BC. Because his men had plundered allied territory, he was attacked and killed at night in his tent on campaign. Xenophon comments: ‘And Thrasybulus, seeming to be a very good man, met this end’ (4.8.31). The ambiguity of ‘seeming to be’ leads to the suggestion that Xenophon is pointing to mere appearance as opposed to reality and undermining rather than confirming the excellence of Thrasybulus, in the context of a larger criticism of Athenian imperialism.40 (p.101) The recognition that the evaluation of Thrasybulus is a mini‐obituary encourages us to compare for a start the very similar evaluation made of Cyrus the Younger in his obituary (An. 1.9.1): ‘Thus did Cyrus die, a man being ὢν after Cyrus the Great the most kingly and worthy of rule, as is agreed by all who seem to have had experience of him’. This is of the same shape as the obituary for Thrasybulus, with the statement of his death accompanied by a focalized evaluation. The difference is that whereas those who focalize their ‘agreement’ about the evaluation of Cyrus are directly mentioned, those who focalize their ‘impression’ of Thrasybulus remain unstated. Given Xenophon's penchant for patterns, however, the comment on Thrasybulus seems to be a compressed version of the judgement on Cyrus, and this encourages the reading of his ‘seeming’ also as ‘being’. This is supported by Xenophon's other uses of ‘seeming to be’ in contexts in which there is no possibility of irony and where the phrase regularly stresses the reality of the reputation from the perspective of witnesses. Those include Hellenica 1.1.31, where Hermocrates ‘seems to be’ the best at counsel and speaking. Here the writer confirms his reputation by indicating the source of his excellence: his habit of listening to what his subordinates had to say, as part of his excellent management. Xenophon describes how he used to gather his subordinates to tell them what he had in mind to say or do, and instruct them to say what they thought, either at that time or later after reflection. This accompanying context leaves no doubt, that the author endorses the ‘seeming’ in question. He does not present Hermocrates' reputation as what he ‘was’ because the seeming consists in the impression of those who were witnesses at the time. That is, his subordinates and others who witnessed their gatherings gathered this impression of him from their experience, and he ‘seemed to be’ best at counsel and speaking in their eyes. Considering that Xenophon, like any other historian, values autopsy as evidence of what ‘was’, their authority is considerable.

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing Another case where there can be no intended irony is Hellenica 5.3.22, where a certain Delphion, never to appear again in the narrative, and no imperialist but an honest patriot of his polis of Phlius (a polis much praised in Xenophon's narrative: 6.5.38–48, 7.2), ‘seems’ in the defence of his polis against the Spartans ‘to be brilliant’. (p.102) The adjective (cf. 4.1.21, 5.2.28) indicates glowing achievement. In this case too, his reputation for achievement is supported, as it was in the case of Hermocrates, by a long description of the counter‐measures he used against the Spartans who were besieging Phlius. Among these was his ability to keep the demos true to its cause of resistance and taking parties out to attack the enemy. As in the previous example, the perspective of his fellow citizens may bear testimony to the phrase, but the author also confirms it in a highly marked and evaluated narrative. The defence of Phlius is dominated by Delphion. In Hellenica 7.4.19, there is another minor figure. Andromachus the Elean hipparch ‘seemed to be responsible for joining battle’ on the occasion of a disastrous defeat, and committed suicide. There is no reason to question his responsibility. But the stress on the appearance, no doubt in the eyes of others, clearly indicates the reason for his suicide. In Hellenica 6.1.2, Xenophon describes Polydamas as ‘having a very good reputation in the rest of Thessaly, and seeming to be so kaloskagathos in his own city’ that the Pharsalians gave their acropolis to him for safe‐keeping when they were in stasis. His subsequent description as a man of the highest principles indicates again that ‘seeming’ is conveying a valid perspective that is coming from the citizens who so trusted him. In Hellenica 6.3.7, Autocles ‘seems to be’ an exact and vehement speaker. Xenophon offers supportive evidence for this too, in the form of the speech he delivers, where he chastises the Spartans for their lack of respect for autonomy. The Spartans are presumably the audience to whom he ‘seemed’ such a speaker, as well as the Athenians who sent him to secure the reconciliation. No one wants to find irony here, since it would not support the case against imperialism, since it is brutal imperialism that Autocles blames here. The case of Dercylidas the Spartan who ‘seemed to be’ very ingenious (3.1.8: μηχανητικός) also offers a confirming perspective: Xenophon follows his description with a reference in the imperfect tense to what seem to be witness citations to indicate that he was indeed known as a clever man to his contemporaries: ‘Yes, for he was called Sisyphus.’ Cleverness is a quality that Xenophon requires of his paradigm commanders when that is directed against the enemy in (p.103) the field, as it is here, and therefore one he would endorse (Memorabilia 3.1.6: μηχανικόν). We could say that he is merely giving us the perspective of contemporaries without endorsement, but there is nothing in the subsequent narrative that gives the reader any other impression than that Page 23 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing he was a resourceful commander. It is reasonable to assume that Xenophon was one of those there at the time, since Dercylidas commanded the Ten Thousand when they returned from their journey and Xenophon was still among them. Their anonymous leader, who is often identified as Xenophon, attested to his good leadership when the Spartans queried it (3.2.7: ‘The one in charge of the men of Cyrus replied, “We, Spartans, are the same as before, but we had one leader in the past and a different one now”.’). The man who is perhaps Xenophon is noting what a difference a change of commander can bring. Xenophon uses ‘seeming’ also in his judgement on Iphicrates' choice of Callistratus and Chabrias as his colleagues above: ‘if he chose them as wise advisors he seems to me to have done a wise thing, and if he chose them as his enemies so as to appear so boldly not to be slacking or neglecting anything, this seems to me to be the mark of a man of great confidence’ (6.2.39). The first ‘seeming’ is the perspective of the author and the second is of those who were to notice his behaviour. Within this same evaluation Chabrias ‘was thought’ to be a good general, this time from the perspective of Iphicrates and others: μάλα στρατηγὸν νομιζόμενον (6.2.39). The evaluation must be valid; it is fully endorsed in Chabrias' previous record: 5.1.10–13, 5.4.14, 54, 61. The same confirming impression is gained when the phrase is applied to Cyrus in Cyropaedia. Many comments affirm that Cyrus ‘is’ what he ‘seems to be’ to others or even to himself. He says of himself: ‘At home I am and seem to be the best of those of my years in throwing the spear…’ (1.3.15) and in his later career: ‘While I am a just man and seeming to be such a man am praised by people…’ (5.2.11). The phrase frequently conveys the perspectives of others too, his peer groups for instance: ‘Of all his peers he seemed to be the best’ (1.3.1); his peers ‘saw’ that he was best in their age group and when he passed into the age group of the ephebes ‘among these again he seemed to be best’ (1.5.1). This combination of being and seeming reflects Xenophon's Socratic belief that one had to be good to back up (p.104) the reputation for seeming good (Mem. 1.7), as well as Cambyses' instruction to Cyrus that he must ‘seem’ to his men to be better able to care for their affairs as well as ‘be in reality what he appears to be’ to them (1.6.21–2). The phrase is also used of the focalized evaluation of Abradatas in Cyropaedia 6.4.4, that he ‘is’ a worthy spectacle, ‘seemed’ most fine and free, and ‘did have’ that nature in him. In the episode in which Cyrus secures the surrender and alliance of the Egyptians he asks them whether they wish to perish or ‘to be preserved seeming to be good men’ ἄνδρες ἀγαθοὶ δοκου̑ντες εἰ̑ναι. They repeat the phrase in requesting how they could do this; it is clearly their genuine reputation and not just a false show that they have in mind (7.1.41–2). Any remaining ambiguity in Thrasybulus' evaluation might be removed by considering other horizons of expectation. His previous record is one. He led the movement that liberated the Athenians after the Peloponnesian War, and in his Page 24 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing speech to the defeated party in that war he gives them the basic lesson in leadership: that those who try to rule others should have more virtue than their subjects. These are the same sentiments and even the same cast of argument as he gives Cyrus when he is addressing his Persian on the same subject.41 In endorsing alliance with Thebes also in 395 BC (3.5.16), Xenophon credits him with the view that the Athenians are repaying favours to Thebes with interest added, which he elsewhere admires as a virtue. In this campaign too, Xenophon says that Thrasybulus' intention was to do some ἀγαθόν for Athens (4.8.26). The proof that he achieves this is that he provokes a major reaction from the Spartans (4.8.31) and we can appeal to the Socratic endorsement of ‘increasing the polis’ to see this as positive and to the inclusion of the quality of patriotism among those that made Agesilaus worthy at Ag. 7. As for the attitude among the allies, he would not describe how the demos liked his restoration of democracy at Byzantium if he meant to condemn his imperialism (4.8.27). The one instance of ‘imperialism’ we do have is when his men engage in the plunder of allies for which Thrasybulus eventually dies. We do not need a (p. 105) modern expectation to condemn this because Xenophon's own expectation is that the good commander should restrain his men from plundering allies (Hellenica 3.2.7). This does therefore confirm his view that leaders should expect repercussions when their followers plunder their friends, but it does not cancel out his previous virtue. His previous record and his intention to serve the polis encourage readers to see the penalty he paid for their injustice as a very sad ending to the career of a man who truly was good and seen as good by others. To cancel out his previous good service for this one failure is uncharacteristic of Xenophon's treatments even of admitted criminals in the formula of the unjust acquittal, which we will see in a later chapter. The Irony of Callias in Hellenica

Most of the characteristics of leaders evaluated above can be measured against Xenophon's leadership theory, but the characterization of Callias (Hellenica 6.3.3–6) as ‘no less pleased to be praised by himself than by others’ is not so obvious to those unfamiliar with Xenophon's values and has therefore been read as part of a condemnation of Callias and thence of the polis he represents, which is imperial Athens.42 This is to apply horizons of expectation to praise that are not Xenophon's. The Athenians had elected Callias as one of their ambassadors to the peace conference that reconciled Athens and Sparta just before the battle of Leuctra. Callias is the first speaker of three.We know him to be the Torchbearer of the Eleusinian Mysteries, son of Hipponicus, the host of Xenophon's Symposium and the focus of Socrates' instruction on the improving effects of spiritual love in that work. Darker readings question the characterization of a man so intent on praise that he is ready to praise himself, and those same readings (p.106) find parodic notes in the contrived word order and sound patterns in his description Page 25 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing of his lineage in his speech. His use of mythic argument from the Mysteries is also said to be ‘redolent of self‐satisfied Athenian hegemonic aspiration’. Xenophon is revealing an imperial state of mind that seeks to dominate Sparta or Greece and mocking Callias' self‐aggrandizement. The horizon of expectation we might best consider in judging the characterization comes from Xenophon's own work. Xenophon praises Agesilaus' views on those who praise themselves in the following way in Agesilaus 8.2: ‘being least given to boasting himself, nevertheless he bore the accounts of those who praised themselves lightly, thinking that they did no harm, but gave promise that they would be good men’. Therefore, from the perspective of Agesilaus, Callias would be giving promise of being a good man in praising himself. Perhaps Agesilaus' tolerance is not considered a safe guide (Tuplin (1993), 105 n. 15), but another confirmation of the equation of self‐praise with excellence is the description that Xenophon's Socrates gives of the kaloikagathoi at Memorabilia 2.1.20. He says that those who work hard to get good friends, to subdue enemies, to be able in body and soul to manage their estates and benefit friends and assist their homelands, these live in good heart, ‘admiring themselves and praised and envied by others’ (ἀγαμένους μὲν ἑαυτοὺς, ἐπαινουμένους δὲ καὶ ζηλουμένους ὑπὸ τω̑ν ἄλλων). He goes on to make the figure of Virtue endorse the praise that comes from hard work and it also seems to involve self‐praise in the talk of old achievements (2.1.31, 33: ‘and the young men rejoice in the praise of their elders and the elders rejoice in the honour of the young. And with pleasure they speak of their old achievements and get pleasure from their current ones, friends to the god on my account, admired by their friends, honoured by their poleis’). Cyrus has the same perspective on those who praise themselves as Agesilaus at Cyr. 4.4.2–3, when he listens to the boasting of the Median and Hyrcanian cavalry about their successful mission ‘with pleasure’, praised them as ‘good men’, and noted how their appearance had become more impressive in their success. He is doing the same as Agesilaus would have done. Perhaps Callias did not perform as well as his self‐praise suggested, which would make him one of those shamsters, the alazones, who make false claims to virtue in order to profit from it, and suffer (p.107) disgrace when they fail to live up to their boasts (Memorabilia 1.7),43 but while it is true that we cannot confirm his opening claim that the polis regularly ‘elects’ him and ‘sends him out’ on matters of peace and war, or that he has twice before come on this mission and now comes for the third time, Hellenica certainly shows that they elected him general in the campaign at Corinth, the one that contributed to the slaughter of large numbers of Spartans at Lechaeum (4.5.13). Other charges against him are that Callias is shown to speak tactlessly because these previous missions were against Sparta, but that was unavoidable since war against Sparta had been fairly constant through his lifetime. His good relations with them are confirmed

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing by his proxenia: his house in Athens was the residence of those ambassadors who were so shocked by the action of Sphodrias (5.4.22). Callias is considered to speak in a way that confirms his self‐aggrandizement when he reminds his audience that he has inherited his position as Spartan proxenus from his paternal line in the phrase: πατρὸς πατὴρ πατρώαν ἔχων παρεδίδου τω̑ι γένει44 This reflects the modern expectation that rhetorical language per se is self‐aggrandizing. Yet his description of his lineage is traditional rather than parodic. Herodotus (1.7.4) describes the long sequence of the Heraclid kings of Lydia: ἄρξαντες μὲν ἐπὶ δύο τε καὶ εἴκοσι γενεὰς ἀνδρω̑ν, ἔτεα πέντε τε καὶ πεντακόσια, παι̑ς παρὰ πατρὸς ἐκδεχόμενος τὴν ἀρχὴν, μέχρι Κανδαύλεω του̑ Μύρσου. He projects no preposterous pride, but intends to capture their unbroken hold on power, which is so soon to be broken by Gyges. He uses a similar phrase of how Alyattes inherited the very, very long war against Miletus from his father παραδεξάμενος τὸν πόλεμον παρὰ του̑ πατρός(1.17.1). Xenophon is imbued with Herodotus' narrative habits.45 But we do not need to (p.108) import Herodotus to suggest that the grand language can be sincere. If mere rhetoric is preposterous, then Xenophon would be mocking himself and Agesilaus, when he himself uses such lineage language in his preface to Agesilaus: ἔτι καὶ νυ̑ν τοι̑ς προγόνοις ὀνομαζομένοις ἀπομνημονεύεται ὁπόστος ἀϕ᾽ Ἥρακλέους ἐγένετο καὶ τούτοις οὐκ ἰδιώταις ἀλλ᾽ ἐκ βασιλέων βασιλευ̑σι, ὥστε οὐ δευτέρων πρωτεύουσιν ἀλλ᾽ ἡγεμόνων ἡγεμονεύουσι. Callias uses grandish language because he is a priest of the Mysteries and his speech conforms to the rule that Aristotle would later formulate: that speeches must be ‘appropriate’ to their speakers and their subjects. Callias describes his priesthood in grand terms simply because it was grand, and he speaks in grand language because he is a highly dignified person. Xenophon has Cleocritus, the Herald of the same Mysteries of which Callias was Torchbearer, deliver a similarly grand speech when he is also endorsing the reconciliation of opposing parties in the Athenian Civil War at Hellenica 2.4.22–4, again in a solemn context in which the seriousness of his sentiments cannot be questioned. Xenophon introduces him as μαλ᾽ εὔϕωνος ὢν also, and his loud voice matches his euphonious sequences of words: μετεσχήκαμεν δὲ ὑμι̑ν καὶ ἱερω̑ν τω̑ν σεμνοτάτων καὶ θυσιω̑ν καὶ ἑορτω̑ν τω̑ν καλλίστων, καὶ συγχορευταὶ καὶ συμϕοιτηταὶ γεγενήμεθα καὶ συστρατιω̑ται and his appeal: πρὸς θεω̑ν πατρώιων καὶ μητρώιων καὶ συγγενείας καὶ κηδεστίας καὶ ἑταιρίας. Callias' argument for peace relating to the Mysteries of which he is the Torchbearer is also serious. He argues that since Triptolemus, the ancestor of the Athenians, gave the gift of the Mysteries and of corn to Heracles and the Dioscuri, the Spartan ancestors, it is unjust for Spartans, who received the gift of corn from the Athenians, to come now and destroy that same gift in Athenian lands, and for Athenians not to wish them the greatest abundance of the same as Page 27 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing their ancestors did. It is correct to say that the argument reads like panegyric: Isocrates in his Panegyricus 28–33 used the same myth to support Athens into the hegemony of Greece. But the argument is not parodic,46 and it is a sad day when a myth cannot be put to new (p.109) use without being undermined by its uses in other writers. It is true that the ‘normal’ use of the argument was to justify Athenian imperialism, but not necessarily true that the audience would read this into Callias' argument and treat it as a piece of hardly concealed imperialism. The novelty in the application of the myth might be expected from the Priest, who knew more than most.47 Dissonant external contexts signalling the alleged irony have also been found,48 but Xenophon's own external contexts are consonant with his presentation. Callias stars in Symposium as a young man, and he is already claiming to be a man worthy of serious consideration for his wisdom (1.6). And as if in a rehearsal of his characterization as liking to hear praise from others in Hellenica, Socrates himself, referring to his reputation for recognizing those young men who will be able to lead successful lives, praises Callias' lineage and the priestly achievements of his clan as something that the Athenians admire in a leader (8.37–43). He asks Callias to consider how Themistocles, Pericles, and Solon brought liberty, good counsel, and sound laws to Athens, and why the Spartans, of which Callias was proxenus, are such excellent military leaders. Athens would readily put herself in Callias' hands, Socrates says, since he has all the qualifications; he is a eupatrid, priest of the gods who went with Iacchus against the barbarians, a most august figure, fine to look at, easily able to undergo toils. And as if Xenophon himself wishes to prevent ironical readings, he has Socrates add that he is saying these things more seriously than he should at such a light occasion as a (p.110) drinking party, because all his life he has had a desire for those who are naturally good and have their own desire for virtue (8.41): ‘If I seem to you to speak more seriously than is proper for a drinking party, be not amazed (εἰ δὲ ὑμι̑ν δοκω̑ σπουδολογη̑σαι μα̑λλον ἢ παρὰ πότον πρέπει, μηδὲ του̑το θαυμάζετε). I have always joined in competition with the polis for the love of those who are good in nature and strive ambitiously for virtue’. We shall see in Chapter 7 that Xenophon regularly signals the times when his characters are indulging in ironic play and when they are in earnest. His seriousness about Callias' future draws the same signal at this party as when Socrates endorses that most serious question of the helpfulness of the gods once you befriend them: 4.48–50; ‘thus was this speech turned to seriousness’ οὑ̑τος μὲν δὴ ὁ λόγος οὕτως ἐσπουδαιολογήθη. Callias' appearance in Hellenica as their amabassador in fact proves that Socrates' prediction came true and that the Athenians did entrust Callias with their affairs. It is perhaps significant that Socrates predicts that the Athenians will select him as their leader only if he proves in reality to be the good man that he appears to be to them, and he repeats the lesson from Cyropaedia and many other texts about the dangers of ‘seeming to be’. Socrates implies as in all these other passages that the Page 28 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing Athenians will see through him if he is not in reality a man of virtue (Symp. 8.42– 3). The Athenians' selection of Callias as ambassador would therefore seem to confirm his real worth, and not just an illusory or reputed one. Callias has some darker history in the orator Andocides (see pp. 59–60), but not for his politics, and histories from other writers cannot have precedence in setting expectations over Xenophon's own. The acceptance of the peace is a final confirming context for Callias' character. The Spartans did not think he made a fool of himself or endorsed Athenian imperialism. They thought that all three speakers ‘spoke well’, and they made the peace that they had recommended (Hell. 6.3.18). The alliance is still in place at the end of Hellenica, when Athens fought alongside Sparta at Mantinea. The transparency of Xenophon's evaluations of Teleutias and Iphicrates and Agesilaus in any case make the malign cleverness with which he is said to undermine Callias and Thrasybulus look anomalous. The implication that he used the ironic manner in their cases because he feared to criticize imperialism outright confronts (p.111) Xenophon's plain criticism of Iphicrates' ineffective operations against the Thebans and their allies, which were in plain pursuit of the alliance with Sparta that Callias endorsed. Surprisingly there has been no suggestion that Xenophon might have feared repercussions from the formidable family to which Callias belonged. Loyalty in Misfortune

Hellenica 7.2.1 uses the apologetic formula again to evaluate the achievements of the men of the small city of Phlius: All the historians write of the great cities if they have done but a single fine deed, but it seems to me that if a small city has accomplished many fine and great deeds, it is even more worthy to reveal them. ἀλλὰ γὰρ τω̑ν μὲν μεγάλων πολέων εἴ τι κάλον ἔπραξαν ἅπαντες οἱ συγγραϕει̑ς μέμνηνται. ἐμοὶ δὲ δοκει̑ καὶ εἴ τις μικρὰ πόλις οὐ̑σα πολλὰ καὶ καλὰ ἒργα διαπέπρακται ἔτι μα̑λλον ἄξιον εἰ̑ναι ἀποϕαίνειν.49 Xenophon here adjusts the formula to indicate that the people in need of developing their perception about what constitutes greatness include historians among his readers. This could be recast without the historians: ‘I know that Phlius is a small (and unworthy) city, but it seems to me that her very smallness made her fine and noble achievements more worthy than the single fine achievement of any of the large cities’. He finds the usual greatness behind smallness by championing the multiple great achievements of the mikropolitai.50 Their achievements are great not only in themselves but because they demonstrated loyalty to friends in misfortune, specifically the Spartans, and because their enemies were putting great pressures on them to abandon Spartan alliance: 7.2.2–3. Socrates had Page 29 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing defined the friend as the greatest possession that a (p.112) man can acquire and made an issue of misfortune: Memorabilia 2.4.5:51 What other thing is so completely good? The good friend stations himself against everything that is lacking for his friend, both in the building of his private fortunes and of his public achievements, and if his friend must benefit someone, he throws his strength in on that side, if any fear disturbs him, he comes to the rescue, helping him make payments, achieve things, secure persuasion or use violence and giving the greatest joy to those who do well and giving the greatest support to those who fall. The subsequent narrative fully supports the evaluation, beginning with the long sentence at Hell. 7.2.2. The first part of the sentence describes the decline of Sparta and the second part describes the hardship that the Phliasians endured in remaining loyal to them. They had become Spartan allies in her days of greatness, but she had now failed at Leuctra, her helots had revolted, her allies had mostly deserted her, and almost all Greece was marching against her. They remained loyal to them nevertheless and even though they had as enemies the most powerful Arcadians and Argives and had been left behind alone by the others: ‘Not even then did they desert, when the commander of allies took those who had gone before them and disappeared, not even then, but hiring a guide from Prasiae, when the enemy were around Amyclae, as best they could they got through and arrived at Sparta’. Xenophon mentions the honour they received at the hands of the Spartans including the gift of an ox. Such a gift is not unusual, but it is more a mark of honour than a material reward, and it may be mentioned to show that it was not for material reward that the Phliasians remained loyal. The narrative goes on, at great length, to describe their endurance of subsequent invasions and their subsequent glorious achievements in support of their allies. Xenophon marks this narrative with further evaluations of their achievements such as (16): ‘This is another fine deed they did…How would one not say that men who did these deeds were not noble and brave?’; and (17): ‘That they preserved their loyalty to their friends through endurance is plain, then’, and the closure of 7.3.1: ‘Concerning the Phliasians, how they were loyal to their friends and continued to be (p.113) valiant in war and how they remained in their alliance though they were short of all supplies, this has been told’. Xenophon is fond of contrasting positive and negative qualities and he enhances the greatness of the loyalty of the Phliasians to the Spartans in misfortune by intertwining it with the disloyalty of Euphron of Sicyon to any ally as a result of his desire to get an advantage in power, including the Spartans (Hellenica 7.1–3 passim). Euphron deserted his Spartan allies for their enemies (7.1.44) and then deserted those allies and turned again to the Spartans and ‘strutted big in his alliance with the Spartans, claiming to continue to be loyal to them’ (7.3.2). He was in the process of deserting them again for the Thebans when he was assassinated (7.3.4–5).52 Page 30 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing In another evaluation, Xenophon has the Spartan harmost Dercylidas praise a very similar kind of loyalty to those in misfortune in his speech to the allies of Abydus, when, as in the earlier case, all the others are deserting Sparta, and he uses the same formula as in Xenophon's praise of Phlius: To remain loyal in good fortune is no wonder (θαυμαστόν). But when people appear firm in misfortune in friendship, this is remembered for all time. (4.8.4) Xenophon reveals the high significance of this theme of loyalty in misfortune for his agenda in his historical writing by including it within a narrative that he introduces with the programmatic statement: And the war on land went like that and I will now relate the events that happened at sea and on the coast during time, and I will write down the most memorable of them (ἀξιομνημονεύτους and pass over those not worthy of report (μὴ ἀξίας λόγου). (4.8.1) This comment has been thought to usher in a fresh compositional phase in the narrative, but it announces an agenda of greatness that is met by Xenophon's focus on greatness as loyalty to those in (p.114) misfortune, which occurs within it.53 Dercylidas' exhortation to loyalty in misfortune has been seen as a deliberate counterpoint to the peace that the Spartans subsequently tried to achieve, which was intended to abandon poleis like Abydos to the Persians (4.8.12–15);54 but it is more in accordance with the spirit of the full range of the evaluations studied here to allow his exhortation to highlight the new definition of greatness in history on its own account, in the same manner as the loyalty of Phlius to the Spartans, which was also shown to them in their times of misfortune. The Noise of Theramenes

The most famous evaluation in Hellenica is that of the courage of Theramenes the Athenian: 2.3.56. This again uses the apologetic formula to redefine greatness as courage in adversity and to admire it. Courage had always been a great achievement in historical writing, but here there is praise of a special manifestation of that quality. The focus of the evaluation is Theramenes' ironic remarks in the face of death, which also provides the first encounter so far with Xenophon's presentation of ironic utterance. The narrative preceding the evaluation has shown that Theramenes was a friend and associate of Critias in the government of the 30 tyrants at Athens, and though at first supportive of the regime, he had spoken out to criticize and oppose policies that they had subsequently developed because he thought they were self‐destructive (2.3.11–56 esp. 15, 37). Critias saw his free speech as treason, brought him to trial, and had him illegally condemned to death. Theramenes sought the protection of the altar, but was (p.115) dragged away Page 31 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing to execution by Satyrus and the eleven officers of the prisons. He continued to speak out as he was led away, calling on men and gods to witness the injustice. Xenophon reports what he said. Satyrus told him that he would suffer if he was not silent. Theramenes retorted: ‘And if I am silent, will I not suffer?’ Doomed anyway, his shouting advertised the injustice and impiety of Critias to those who witnessed it. And when he was obliged to drink the hemlock he tossed out the dregs ‘as in the game of kottabus’ and said: ‘This to the fair Critias’, a toast in memory of their earlier friendship but spiced with the poison of the breach that had occurred.55 Xenophon then closes his account: And of this I am not unaware, that these remarks are not worthy of report ταυ̑τα ἀποϕθέγματα οὐκ ἀξιόλογα, but it is this that I judge admirable in the man του̑ ἀνδρὸς ἄγαστον, that with death at hand neither his thinking nor his sense of humour μήτε τὸ ϕρόνιμον μήτε τὸ παιγνιω̑δες abandoned his soul. The ‘achievement’ here takes the form of ironic comments, and Xenophon's engagement with the readers shows that he knows that they must strike some readers as trivial, but his greater discernment reveals Theramenes' intelligent perception of his inevitable death, and the continuation of his wit in the face of death points to a remarkable courage. The qualities of good sense and playfulness by themselves are worthy enough in his eyes: Phoebidas is blamed for his lack of sense (τὸ ϕρόνιμον) in seizing the Theban Cadmea (5.2.28); Iphicrates chooses his colleagues wisely on the grounds that they possessed this sense (6.2.39: ϕρονίμους) Theramenes' playfulness τὸ παιγνιω̑δες is like the affability (τὸ εὔχαρι) that is credited to Agesilaus (Agesilaus 8). But their continuance in the face of death gives them enhanced greatness. Most people would lose their wits in his situation, and certainly their sense of play. The narrative highlights this courage by playing up the fearfulness of the situation and also directly addresses the question whether it is better to speak out or be silent in the oppressive regime created by Critias. Theramenes is joking with Satyrus, who is ‘the most bold and shameless’ of his jailors and might have terrified a lesser man into silence. Xenophon shows his violence in the description of how he (p.116) and his attendants drag Theramenes from the altar: εἱ̑λκε, εἱ̑λκον In particular he contrasts Theramenes' courageous noise with the terrified silence of the Boule. He has advised them from the altar that Critias' unconstitutional action threatens their security too (2.3.52–3), but: ‘The council kept silent, seeing those on the back benches like Satyrus and the front part of the council chamber full of guards, and being not unaware that they had daggers with them’ (2.3.55). Terrified silence would have been a reasonable response in Theramenes too, had he not been made of sterner stuff. The authenticity of Theramenes' sayings is of course confirmed by Xenophon's regular anonymous witnesses, λέγεται, ἔϕασαν to validate the praise.

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing This evaluation was once read as a literal apology for the introduction into historical writing of witty sayings, but the other forms of the apologetic evaluation advise against this. In any case Xenophon cannot be apologizing for the introduction of sayings into historical writing because they were already there, and they even involved courage in the face of death, such as Herodotus' report of Dieneces' clever response to the remark about the threat of the Persian archers at Thermopylae (7.226). Xenophon spells out the ironies in Theramenes' remarks that highlight the main themes. He juxtaposes the ‘suffering’ and the ‘silence’ that is the point of the first irony by putting the two verbs in chiastic order, and when he comes to the toast, he is not content to indicate the symposiastic implication of friendship by calling Critias ‘lovely’, which was the regular designation for boy‐loves, but refers also to the game that is played there. This is not the procedure of the subtle ironist. Xenophon produces a similar irony in the exchange between Socrates and Apollodorus in the face of death, which he also introduces with the comment that what Socrates said in the face of his death was in accord with his brightness of face, of gesture, and the way he walked (Apology 27–8). We are told that Apollodorus finds it unbearable that Socrates dies unjustly; Socrates replies with the question whether he would prefer to see him die justly; ‘and he laughed’. The laughter is the plain signal of his irony. The effect of both these ironies is to provoke reflection on serious themes. Socrates' remarks demonstrate his courage and provoke reflection that starts with contemplation of the just and the unjust death. Theramenes' remarks demonstrate his courage and (p.117) provoke reflection on the role of a citizen in an oppressive regime where silence is required by that regime and speaking out is punished, but where speaking out ironically serves that regime by correcting its faults and silence does not—as Theramenes has argued in his previous speech (esp. 2.3.37–43). He is of course proven correct when those policies do bring the regime down after his death (2.4 passim). These are both examples of that lightening of dark themes for which Xenophon was noted, since suffering and death are not normally laughing matters.56 Not all heroes laughed in the face of death: Anaxibius dismissed those with him in order that they not perish uselessly, but stayed like a Spartan at his post to show greatness of a more traditional kind (Hell. 4.8.38–9); but there is also the grim humour toward those who are about to die when the Spartan Pasimachus, charging courageously against superior numbers, indicates with his Spartan dialect to the enemy he is bearing down on that he is not the Sicyonian he appears to be (Hell. 4.4.10). Xenophon's evaluation of Theramenes is generous. He has charted his earlier faults,57 but he still finds greatness in his death. He even shares his form of apologetic evaluation with Theramenes when he makes him draw attention to Critias' impiety and injustice: ‘By the god, he said, I am not unaware that this altar will not help me, but I wish to show this, that they are not only most unjust about men, but most impious about the gods’. But whereas Theramenes uses the Page 33 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing formula to point to vice in his former friend, Xenophon points to the virtue in Theramenes.

Conclusion Xenophon's explicit evaluations praise and blame leaders and followers according to horizons of expectation that have been found in the Socratic works. There seems no doubt that he means to praise (p.118) and blame what he seems to praise and blame; he writes in the rhetorical mode suited to praise and blame and he uses rhetorical proof and evidence, he anticipates contrary readings in order to protect the integrity of his evaluations, he calls on witnesses to focalize the judgement he endorses. The next two chapters will confirm the transparency of his messages and his literary craft by examining his adaptations of earlier literature to images of leadership, and his creation of formulaic narratives of leadership. Notes:

(1) See Momigliano (1971), 46–58. (2) See Cole (1991), Kennedy (1994). (3) See Fowler (1996), Gribble (1998); Gray (2003a) and (2004a). (4) Braun (2004), 97–130 finds Xenophon to be silent on compassion in Cyrus and hints at negativity in Xenophon's account of his punishments (p. 199), but this is without reference to Xenophon's theory of leadership. Obviously a more hostile obituary could be written by reading his silences, but it would be at odds with Xenophon's. Azoulay (2004a), 193–7 thinks that Xenophon stressed friendship in this eulogy to protect himself against the charge of taking payment in monetary form from Cyrus as a mercenary because he considered monetary payment disreputable. (5) Gray (2003a), 115–23 on ‘it is said’ as the confirmation of witnesses. The same case can be argued for Thucydides: Gray (2010). (6) See below pp. 100–4 on the focalization in ‘seeming to be’. (7) Thucydides turns the obituary for Nicias to his characteristic pathos: ‘least worthy of the Greeks in my time to come to such a pitch of misfortune because of his considered practice of complete virtue’ (7.86.5). (8) See pp. 246–63 for these epilogues. (9) On Theopompus: Shrimpton (1991), Flower (1994). (10) See pp. 119–44.

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing (11) Momigliano (1971), 51–2 notes among other possible precedents the description of the qualities of the dead at Euripides, Suppliants 860ff. which is an apt parallel too—but neither Euripides nor Homer has Xenophon's rhetorical purpose. (12) Griffin (1980), 143. Another instance of the background character sketch is the death at Iliad 5.541–60 where the act of killing takes up barely two lines, while background and simile take up the rest. (13) Pelling (1989) recognizes Xenophon's interest in children as an innovation in ancient writing. Xenophon uses childhood to foreshadow qualities that his leaders will show as adults not only in the obituary for Cyrus the Younger, but also in his much longer account of the education of Cyrus the Elder in Cyropaedia 1.3–4, where he has a natural aversion to sophisticated cuisine and he wishes even as a boy to give away what he gets as his to those he loves. Herodotus briefly foreshadows the qualities Cyrus the Great reveals in his childhood when he is elected king, issues instructions to others to work for him, and whips the disobedient in the game of ‘King’ (1.114.1–3), but the qualities he reveals are darker than Xenophon's. We also have Xenophon's interest in young men shown in love stories or paidikoi logoi: Cyrus' attraction to men in Cyropaedia 1.4.27–8, Agesilaus' attraction to Megabates below; and the story of Cyrus and Archidamus in Hellenica 5.4.25ff. See pp. 203–11, 228–31. Xenophon's Lycurgus recognizes the different characteristics of different age groups: the love of softness in boys and the aggressive competitiveness of ephebes (RL 2–4). Xenophon's Socrates was good at recognizing characteristics in the young that promised virtue and could be assisted by the nurturing of philosophy (Mem. 4.1.2: swift learners, good memory, love of learning, and 4.1.3–4). It is interesting that Xenophon's longest accounts are of Persian childhood as if he found it in the Persian tradition. (14) That contrast between all four commanders is apparent before the obituaries in the extremely vivid and instructive incident at Anabasis 1.5.11–16, when Clearchus shows his character by beating one of Menon's men for injustice, which points to his special characteristic as well as theirs; they retaliate by throwing stones at him as you would expect of Menon's indisciplined followers; he then prepares for open warfare and so do they. Proxenus arrives and positions himself between the two forces but simply enrages Clearchus by asking him to desist, showing the gentlemanly weakness that is his special characteristic. Clearchus is typically enraged by his ‘mild’ description of the offence against him, and it is Cyrus alone who is able to bring these Greeks to their senses because of his more balanced leadership. (15) Tuplin (1993), 47 suggests that Xenophon's praise implies the blame of opposing characters even when it is not explicit: ‘the merits of the eventual

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Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing victors in Athens are principally a sign of the demerits of the Spartans and their agents’. We have to explain then why he is sometimes explicit. (16) See Marincola (1997), 34–42 on ‘greatness’ in history. (17) Gray (2003a); cf. Tuplin (1993), 36–40. Riedinger (1991), 63–5, 85–6 thought that Xenophon had no clear idea of what history entailed and read four interventions (4.8.1, 2.3.56, 5.1.4, 7.2.1) as mere improvisations justifying anecdotal material that could not be considered historical (65, 78) and were an imposition on the integrity of the programme he imposed on Xenophon (85). (18) Commentaries such as that of Luppino Manes (1992) make no remarks on this intrusion, or on the paidikos logos in Agesilaus below. (19) Dionysius of Halicarnassus Letter to Pompey 5 calls Theopompus a philosophic historian because he uncovered vice and revealed things that are not easy for the majority to know. Xenophon's evaluations are more positive in that they uncover virtue that the reader might not otherwise detect. (20) For further treatment of this episode as a love story: pp. 203–4. (21) The thought that lust is natural is found in Hiero's account of his relations with boys (Hiero 1.33), where Hiero confesses that he desires ‘what the nature of man compels us to want from the fair’. (22) An example of its role in bestowing honour is seen when Cyaxares rebuffs Cyrus by refusing his kiss (Cyropaedia 5.5.6), but for a more erotic version of the Persian kiss, see the story of Cyrus (Cyr. 1.4. 27–8), pp. 203–6. (23) ‘Probabilities’ indicates that Xenophon is again adducing evidence to support his evaluation as he did in the obituaries, for it goes hand in hand with the testimony of the eyes (and the ears): Manes (2000). Xenophon makes frequent references to the value of autopsy: Gray (2003a), 116. The evidence of what a character did ‘in the open’ as evidence of his good behaviour is also used of Socrates in the defence against the charge of irreligious behavour (Mem. 1.1 passim). He argues there too that what is ‘visible’ is known to all (Mem. 1.1.17). (24) He offers a similar narrator's comment when describing the chastity of Spartan lovers in RL 2.10–12. (25) See Luce (1989); Marincola (1997), 158–74. (26) This is a feature of the prescription for historical writing in Lucian, How to Write History. In his view fear and favour created bias that made historians change facts such as the identity of the person who wounded Philip, or his loss of an eye, or the evil ways of Cleon (38). He makes Alexander aware that posterity would not for this reason believe the reports of his achievements and Page 36 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing takes to absurd length the idea that those who were not contemporaries were less biased when he said that people believed Homer's account of Achilles' struggle with the river merely on the grounds that he had no reason to lie because he lived later (40). See Gray (1990) on the problem of bias concerning Alexander. The moral reputation of the historian was also at stake in the game of praise and blame. Flatterers and polemicists lost face with readers. Polybius blamed Timaeus for blaming great men in the scurrilous way he did; his view was that this incurred a reputation for low‐mindedness even if the accusations were deserved (Polybius History 12.13–15). Dionysius of Halicarnassus felt moved to justify Theopompus' theatrically negative evaluations of Philip of Macedon and his courtiers as a surgeon's cuts (Letter to Pompey 5). Even Herodotus indicates that he expects to incur envy for his praise of the Athenians for saving Greece (7.139). (27) Lucian De historia (38). See pp. 39 n.40 for remarks on this narrator stance. Lucian described Xenophon as impeccably uninfluenced by fear or favour in his judgements (39)—as we see in his criticism of his friend Proxenus in Anabasis and in the balanced nature of his judgement here on Teleutias and Iphicrates (28) Xenophon uses strategies other than the first‐person intervention to bring out the relations between leaders and followers in other scenes of enthusiastic farewell. The enthusiasms of their followers for Hermocrates (Hell. 1.1.27–31) are spelled out in the narrative. The reasons why Agesilaus was loved (4.2.1–5) are spelled out in the speech he delivers: He said he had to help his homeland, but ‘understand this, that if things go well there, I shall not forget you, but will return again to serve your needs’ (4.2.3). Xenophon is not a merely mechanical writer. (29) Xenophon also redefines what it means to be μακάριος in the scene, when he describes Teleutias sailing home as ‘most blessed indeed’ μακαριώτατα δή. He is blessed for his following, not for his wealth or his family or for his active achievements in war. This definition recalls the definition of good management given by Ischomachus at Oec. 21.12: that the one who wins willing obedience is ‘godlike’. Teleutias' mother is called μακάριος in having successful sons like him and Agesilaus (Hellenica 4.4.19) (30) Tatum (1989) 52f. lightly suggests that Teleutias only appears to care for his men: ‘Teleutias creates his hold on his men by persuading them that he cares for them more than for himself. Whether he really felt this way does not matter…’, but this does not meet the expectations for willing obedience. (31) Higgins (1977), 124–6. (32) See pp. 179–86 for examples of scenes of willing obedience with such programmatic introductions. Contrast Tuplin (1993), 160–2, with the long note 51. Page 37 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing (33) Cf. the introduction to the willing obedience to Cyrus the Younger at An. 1.5.8. (34) See pp. 200–3 for another instance of effective placement of events. (35) Xenophon elsewhere voices his criticisms of commanders through their men as focalizers, which is in keeping with his interest in their relations: e.g., Hell. 7.1.17–18 sets out the advantageous course of action that a commander rejected, and then cites a ‘majority’ to whom the adopted course also ‘seemed’ disadvantageous. (36) Compare 5.4.51: καὶ μέντοι καλὸν ἐδόκει γενέσθαι τὸ ἐνθύμημα του̑ Ἀγησίλαου. (37) The combination of μέντοι γε is most often adversative, but in the evaluation of the anger that caused Teleutias' death (Hell. 5.3.7) it has the progressive and affirmative sense, taking the lesson on from his death and applying it more generally to others: Denniston (1996), 401–9 for the relevant discussion. (38) Higgins (1977), 85 suggests that there is sarcasm in the word εὐταξία because it means ‘good formation’, which the Persians failed to show at Cunaxa, but εὐταξία means obedience to commands, as at RL 8.1 describing the laws of Sparta, and Mem. 4.4.1 describing the obedience of Socrates. Cunaxa reveals no Persian disorder from those who are fighting with Cyrus against his brother. (39) A narratological term: see on focalization Hornblower (1994), de Jong et al. (2004). (40) Tuplin (1993), 80–1 noted in passing that ‘Xenophon does not commit himself to agree’ that Thrasybulus' ‘is’ what he ‘seems to be’ and footnoted other uses of the phrase: 1.1.31, 3.1.8, 5.3.22, 6.3.7; but ‘seeming’ in these passages confirms the reputation. This is, however, a persistent trend in ironical readings: Nadon (2001), 168–9 reads ‘seeming’ in Cyr. 1.6.20–1 as ‘mere appearance’, as opposed to reality. (41) Hell. 2.4.40–2, Cyr. 7.5.83. The resemblance is demonstrated on pp. 243–4. Higgins (1977) 122–3 accepted that this is a favourable impression. (42) Higgins (1977), 9, 122 pursuing the theme of the bleak realities of imperialism, says that Xenophon's intention is to show that Callias lives in a world of past glories that are no longer real. Tuplin (1993) 104–10: Xenophon's presentation of Callias and the other speakers ‘leave the reader with some reason for suspecting that…rapprochement with Athens is likely to be tainted by a continuing Athenian claim to pleonektein’. (43) Tuplin (1993), 105–6 questions Callias' record. Page 38 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing (44) Higgins (1977), 9 observed that the language, with its alliteration and play on similar words, is ‘just the opposite…of Xenophon's normal manner’. Tuplin (1993), 104 agreed: ‘absurd alliteration’. (45) Another example is the forecast of the defeat at Leuctra in Hellenica 6.4.8: ‘With respect to the battle, everything appeared opposed to the Lacedaemonians, but everything was put right by luck on the other side’. Herodotus forecasts the luck that the Athenians had in catching the children of Pisistratus and removing him from Athens in the same way: ‘Now then chance turned out bad for them, but for the others it was an ally’ (5.65.1). (46) ‘Callias, who started by praising himself in an inappropriate fashion…ends by praising Athens like a panegyrist—a parody’: Tuplin (1993), 107–8. Higgins also dismisses the power of the mythic argument. Parody imitates a serious work but slightly changes it to transform the sublime into the ridiculous, but not always at the expense of the parodied text, as in Euripdes' parody of Aeschylus' recognition scene, where the focus of the parody is not Aeschylus, but sophistic arguments: Gallagher (2003). I thank Isabelle Torrance, conference paper on irony in Exeter, September 2009. See Hutcheon (2000) on parody. (47) Callias' mention of his proxenia is also considered to be ‘mere boasting’ compared with references to proxenia from Polydamas and Jason: Tuplin (1993), 104 n. 11. But Xenophon has Polydamas mention his long service as their proxenos in language quite as grand as Callias' (6.1.4: Polydamas to the Spartans ‘I, men of Sparta, have been your proxenus and benefactor from the time of all the ancestors we remember…’). (48) It is hard to imagine readers importing Eupolis' Kolakes to suggest that the description of Callias is ‘designed to recall his notorious association with parasites and flatters’, as in Tuplin (1993), 104. (49) Xenophon may be right in saying that other historians did not praise the achievements of small cities. Thucydides addressed the misfortune of the Ambraciots, and of the small city of Mycalessus (7.29–30). Herodotus addressed the fortunes of cities great and small because good fortune did not remain in the same place for long (1.5), but not for their achievements. (50) Xenophon's support for the small polis reflects what is said by Procles the leader of Phlius, about the combined numbers producing a considerable force (6.5.44). (51) See Chapter 6 on friendship relations and leadership. (52) Riedinger (1991), 36 seems not to appreciate Xenophon's interest in friendships when he says: ‘No section seems better to convey the absence of direction that the author confronts: he conceived a history as that of the great Page 39 of 40

 

Explicit Authorial Evaluations in Historical Writing polis of Sparta, but now gives considerable space to two small poleis. And he who avoided domestic politics now narrates all the details of Euphron from start to finish’. (53) Riedinger (1991). The device can be found also in Herodotus, who, after narrating the significant achievements of Gyges, which are his accession to power and his dedications at Delphi, says that he will pass over other events in his reign of since no other great action occurred (1.14.4), thus promoting the greatness of the original two. Herodotus comes even closer to Xenophon's formulation when he announces at 1.177: ‘I will pass over most of Cyrus' actions, but what gave him most effort and is most worthy of report ἀξιαπηγητότατα, these I will recall’. He is not beginning a new phase of composition, but announcing the anticipated greatness of what follows, which is the conquest of Babylon. (54) Tuplin (1993), 76–7. (55) Ussher (1979). (56) Demetrius On Style 134–5 and see Chapter 7 for further comment on ironic humour, esp. pp. 360–2. (57) Xenophon (Hell. 1.7, 2.2.10–23) criticizes Theramenes in the same terms as Lysias in Against Eratosthenes 62–78. Cf. Thucydides: 8.68.4, 89–94 passim. His ability to praise him for his death shows once again his ability to be objective in his judgements.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0004

Abstract and Keywords Chapter 3 examines Xenophon's intertextual adaptations of previous literature to showcase his new values relating to leadership, in allegories and in deconstructions of Homer and Herodotus. Keywords:   intertextuality, Xenophon's literary predecessors, Homer, Herodotus, wise man and ruler, leadership in Homer, Socrates on Homer

Previous chapters have shown that we can inform a given image of power in Xenophon's works by importing expectations of such images from elsewhere in his works; in this process we are subjecting that image to internal intertextual readings.1 This chapter shows how his images can be informed by external intertextual engagement with Homer and Herodotus, as well as with general literary traditions such as the meeting between the wise man and the tyrant, and it attempts to explain the various effects that this intertextuality achieves.

Interpretation of Homer for Leadership Xenophon thinks well of poets and writers. He makes the comment at Poroi 5.3–4 that when Athens is made peaceful and wealthy by the reforms he suggests, she will attract merchants with goods of various sorts, as well as those who can enrich the polis with their wisdom, such as craftsmen, sophists, philosophers, poets—and ‘those who take their works in hand’, which might include their interpreters. He reveals his knowledge of the poets in his engagement especially with Homer and his interpreters.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (p.120) The account of his adaptations of Homer begins with the safest evidence, where he has Socrates interpret Homer to endorse his theory of leadership in the Socratic works. These interpretations belong to a known tradition of literary criticism on Homer that includes allegorization.2 Socrates' interpretations might indeed be broadly called ‘allegories’ even though the modern understanding of that term as some personification of abstract values in concrete characters would better describe Xenophon's account of Prodicus' choice of Heracles between Virtue and Vice (Mem. 2.1.21). Socrates uses the technical terminology of allegory to describe the interpretation of Homer at Symposium 3.5–6, when Niceratus boasts that his father made him memorize Homer ‘in order to become a good man’. Antisthenes the philosopher taunts Niceratus for the shallowness of his boast, but Socrates indicates that Homer is of use when his ‘inner meaning’ ὑπονοία is elicited (cf. Plato, Republic 378d).3 In another place, Xenophon uses the language he also uses for the process of irony, describing Socrates as ‘joking’ ἐπισκώπτων and ‘playing while being serious’ ἔπαιζεν ἄμα σπουδάζων in interpreting Homer's story about Odysseus and Circe ( Mem. 1.3.7–8). He shows familiarity with the practitioners of such interpretation when he assumes that Niceratus has paid his fees in the school of Stesimbrotus and Anaximander, the latter known as the author of a work on Homer. Xenophon's interpretation of Homer of course develops the views on leadership that he elsewhere attributes to Socrates. Some had allegorized Homer's problematic presentation of the gods, but another problem was that Homer had portrayed the great aristocratic basileis such as Agamemnon at the dawn of the archaic polis. Now in the daylight of democracy Xenophon's Socrates needed to teach citizens to lead other citizens who were equal under the law in order to be cleared of any elite suspicions. (p.121) Xenophon's Socrates' adaptations of Homer therefore reveal that ‘inner meaning’. This is in the face of misinterpretations of his teaching from Homer from non‐perceptive readers. Two interpretations arise from Iliad 2, which has a particular focus on leadership.4 In this book Agamemnon tests the mettle of his men by pretending to be about to give up the fight and they greet the idea of going home with enthusiasm. Athena tells Odysseus to prevent them leaving and he does so, but Thersites continues to wish to leave, abusing Agamemnon's leadership for good measure. Odysseus stops him, advice is given, and Agamemnon takes up his leadership again. The book ends with the Catalogue of the forces.5 Odysseus, who is sent to continue the fight, is one of Homer's great basileis. At Iliad 2.188 he goes through the army, addressing other basileis and commoners and encouraging them to remain in words that reflect their different status: ‘Whomsoever he found like a king and man of excellence (βασιλη̑α καὶ ἔξοχον ἄνδρα), standing at his side, he restrained him with gentle words. “Fellow, it is not seemly to terrify you like a coward. Settle down yourself and settle the crowds as well…”. Whatever fighter he saw of the Page 2 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others demos on the other hand (δήμου τ᾽ἄνδρα) and found shouting out (to retreat), he drove with his sceptre and called to him in word. “Fellow, settle down and listen to the word of others who are stronger than you. You are unwarlike and cowardly, never to be counted in fighting or in counsel”.’6 It is noticeable that he addresses the kings with the ‘gentle words’ that Athena had recommended σοι̑ς ἀγανοι̑ς ἐπέεσσιν ἐρήτυε ϕω̑τα ἕκαστον (line 180), but these are not used for the commoners. Xenophon has Socrates take this passage and make Odysseus a lesson in democratic leadership by subverting what he would take to be undemocratic management practices (Mem. 1.2.58–9). This forms part of a sequence of interpretations of the poets in which the accusers of Socrates had alleged that he had ‘selected the most vile (p.122) verses of the most famous poets and using these as evidence, had taught his associates to do evil and act like tyrants’ (1.2.56). Odysseus' distinction between kings and commoners therefore appeared invidious when Socrates used this passage in his teaching. His critics read Homer's kings as the aristocrats, and his demos as the poor, and they thought that Socrates was teaching (ταυ̑τα δὴ αὐτὸν ἐξηγει̑σθαι) that Homer praised people who beat the demos. But Xenophon disagrees. This was not Socrates' teaching, partly because he was poor himself and did not want a beating, but more seriously he took the lesson from this passage that those who were not ‘useful’ and made no contribution in word or deed to ‘the army, the polis, or the demos itself’ should be ‘checked in any way available’ πάντα τρόπον κωλύεσθαι especially if they were bold in addition, and no matter how rich they were (1.2.59).7 He does not stray completely from Homer in this interpretation. The ‘checking’ captures in prose the poetic ‘restraint’ that Homer credits to Odysseus; Odysseus ἐρητυσάσκε the kings, and he ἐλάσασκεν the poor, and this captures how Socrates customarily ‘checks’ the bad desires of his associates in Memorabilia (e.g. 1.2.64: ϕανερὸς ἠ̑ν τω̑ν συνόντων τοὺς πονηρὰς ἐπιθυμίας ἔχοντας τούτων μὲν παύων). However, he does omit lines from the passage that would damage his thesis, lines in which for (p.123) instance Odysseus tells the commoners that sole kingship is the only form of government.8 Socrates' desire to check those of special boldness may recall Homer's report of Odysseus' beating of Thersites for his boldness (210–70) as well as his raising of his sceptre against the demos. Homer describes Thersites as the ‘ugliest man who ever came to Ilium’, hateful to Achilles and Odysseus and Agamemon. Odysseus threatens to send him out of the assembly after beating him with unseemly blows, πεπληγὼς ἀγορη̑θεν ἀεικέσσι πληγη̑ισιν (line 264), when he is undeterred by Odysseus' words and abuses Agamemnon for his leadership, and he does eventually give him a blow that raises blood and tears. Thersites is the classic disobedient follower in Xenophontic terms and one wonders whether Xenophon saw his own beating of the malingerer of Anabasis 5.8 mirrored in the action of Odysseus. At any rate Thersites offers a model of those described by Socrates who make no contribution to the army or anything else and who are Page 3 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others bold ‘in addition’ to that. His ability to address the assembly suggests that he is not a commoner even though his negative qualities might qualify him as one, so that he may count as one of those with resources and worthy of greater punishment on that score. The endorsement of ‘usefulness’ that Socrates took from Homer is the measure of worth that Xenophon requires from aristocrats in the polis of Athens. He indicates that Socrates believed in checking and punishing those who did not contribute in a useful way to the common enterprise in the episode from Memorabilia (3.7) where he plays Odysseus in chastising Charmides who refused to make his contribution to the demos because he feared that the demos would mock him.9 Socrates ‘checked’ Charmides from deserting his duty as a citizen just as Odysseus ‘checks’ his kings and commoners. Some of his chastisement is rough enough to go beyond the gentle words that (p.124) Odysseus used on his kings. Socrates asks Charmides what he would think of a competent athlete who refused to enter the games to win honour for himself and his polis. Charmides calls such a man a coward. Socrates then challenges him to consider whether one who refuses to enter politics to manage the affairs of the polis and ‘increase the polis’: τήν τε πόλιν αὔξειν, which is code for its success, is not also a coward, when he has the ability to serve himself and the polis (3.7.1–2). Admittedly he does not beat Charmides, but his words are not exactly gentle. To contribute to the increase of the polis, Socrates declares, is the function of a member of the polis (Mem. 3.7.2: ‘you must take a hand in these affairs because you are a citizen’ καὶ ταυ̑τα ὡ̑ν ἀνάγκη σοὶ μετέχειν πολίτῃ γε ὄντι; cf. 4.6.14 where the citizen is again formally defined by that duty). Charmides declares that he does not serve them because he feels a kind of fear of the demos, but Socrates ridicules them as ‘most witless and weak’ in order to make him realize that he has nothing to fear from them. ‘Do not be lazy’, he ends, when service to the polis is as much in his interests as theirs. Socrates himself in the very act of chastising one who did not serve the polis, made his own useful contribution to it, like an Odysseus in dialectic. Xenophon's Socrates also interprets the function of leadership from Homer's epithets for Agamemnon as ‘shepherd of the people’ and ‘both a good king and a mighty warrior’ in order to give instruction in leadership (Mem. 3.2).10 Antisthenes confirms that the epithets give instruction in how to be a king and leader in Symposium 4.6.11 Agamemnon was called shepherd of the flock according to Socrates because the shepherd must see to it that the sheep are safe and have food and to achieve the end for which they are fed, and the good (p.125) leader must also keep his soldiers safe and fed and achieve the purpose for which they go on campaign; and they go on campaign in order to conquer the enemy and attain success. The mention of conquest (κρατου̑ντες) as one of the aims of the shepherd of the flock then leads him to consider the phrase ‘a good king and a conquering (κρατερός) spearman too’. This led him to connect kingship with the improvement of the skills of his followers because: ‘he Page 4 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others would not just fight well against the enemy himself, but make his men good warriors like himself, and did not only look to his own livelihood well, but was responsible for the happiness of those over whom he was king’. The two epithets are attributed to Agamemnon in different places in Iliad 2–3. Homer describes Agamemnon as shepherd of the flock when he sums up how Thersites abused him for his greed and other poor qualities as a leader: Iliad 2.243; Odysseus also uses this formula when he is replying to Thersites' abuse (line 254). In a different context, when Helen is identifying Agamemnon for Priam, she calls him a mighty king and great warrior (3.179). Their occurrence in the passage in which Odysseus chastised Thersites for abusing Agamemnon offers particular accommodation for a comment on leadership because it already involves relations between leaders and followers. It might be argued that Thersites is right when he says that Agamemnon is greedy and takes wealth from his followers and this goes against the Socratic interpretation of his leadership, but when Agamemnon does return to lead the troops, Homer uses the pastoral image again to compare his marshalling of the men into divisions and companies to how the herdsman sorts out the flocks for pasturing, which confirms his care for their welfare (2.474: ὡς τ᾽αἰπόλια πλατέ ἀἰγω̑ν αἰπόλοι ἄνδρες ῥει̑α διακρίνωσι). Like Xenophon's ideal commanders too, Agamemnon has told the men to eat before going to battle, to sharpen their spears and shields and to see to the chariots; he calls for their sweat and promises to punish severely those who slacken (2.382–93). The speech implies that he is responsible for their morale and condition, and therefore for their success in battle.12 Socrates therefore had (p.126) good grounds to interpret the pastoral epithet as a sign that the good leader looks to the provisioning and welfare of his followers. The second description of him as king and spearman follows when the Greeks have come out to fight and Priam asks Helen to identify one he thinks already ‘resembles a kingly man’. It is difficult to find inspiration in the original passages for how Socrates was able to interpret this pair of epithets as proof that Agamemnon made others in his image as he does, but Priam does comment on the large numbers that he rules. The more general inspiration comes from Iliad 4, in which Agamemnon rises to the occasion and becomes the great leader of men that Xenophon's Socrates has in mind, doing the rounds of the heroes one by one. We see his ability to make others mighty spearmen like himself in his encouragement of these heroes, urging on the eager and chastising the slack. He praises Idomeneus for past performance for instance, and Idomeneus responds to this with a pledge of continuing excellence in the battle to come: 4.255–71. Homer provides Xenophon's Socrates with a more humorous allegory of Odysseus in his Circe episode (Mem. 1.3.7; Od. 10. 203–482). This is the passage in which Xenophon is demonstrating how Socrates' control of his appetites prevented him from becoming over‐full (ϕυλάξασθαι τὸ ὑπὲρ τὸν κόρον ἐμπίμπλασθαι 1.3.6). He indicates that Socrates also warned people off Page 5 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others stimulants to the appetite that made one over‐eat (‘the things that persuade you to eat when not hungry and drink when not dry’) because they damaged belly and head and soul. There is a reference to the use of such stimulants as a sign of a soul that is sick and weak also in Hiero 1.22–3. To illustrate their dangers, Socrates allegorized Homer's Circe episode—‘joking in seriousness’. Circe had turned Odysseus' followers into pigs by feeding them exotic foods that might qualify as such stimulants (Homer describes an exotic mix of cheese, honey, wine, meal, and barley, all put together at once), and she mixed these with harmful drugs; but she could not transform Odysseus. In Homer's account this was because Hermes gave him the divine protection of a magic herb, which enabled him to eat the potion she offered without harm, as well as some advice about how to get her to bed and release his men. Xenophon diminishes the magical element in Homer's account. He accepts that Hermes gave (p.127) Odysseus advice (the rare ὑποθημοσύνηι), but partners it with the virtue of self‐ control: it is Odysseus' self‐control that allows him to refrain from taking such stimulants as she offered. Socrates is reworking various elements in the original version, comparing for instance the harm done by the drugs in Circe's exotic food to the harm done by more ordinary stimulants to the belly, head, and soul. She becomes a personification of the stimulants herself. The lesson that people should limit their consumption of exotic food is endorsed again in Mem. 3.14. Socrates is described as ‘playing in earnest’ in this interpretation, which is the language also used of his ironies, but not in his other interpretations above, even though the process of interpretation is no different, so perhaps a story involving pigs and witches and transformation was a joke in its own right even though self‐control is a very serious issue. Homer also offers an opportunity for Socrates to develop a playful allegory of friendship, which is one of the relations that leaders have with followers, and with other leaders. This is in the conversation in which Socrates is teaching Critobulus how to win friends of worth (Mem. 2.6). He is of the view that praise wins the friendship of worthy men because they love honour and he interprets Homer's episode in which the Sirens praise Odysseus to prove it. Homer made no explicit mention of friendship. In his version the Sirens cast spells on men who hear them sing, luring them into staying with them and dying there: they sit in their lovely meadow, but surrounded by corpses and bone‐heaps of men now rotted away and the skins shrivelling on them (Od. 12.45–6). Famously Odysseus stopped up his crews' ears to prevent them being enchanted, but listened to them himself, though bound to the mast. But for Socrates, the Sirens are an example of how to seek friends, it is Odysseus they are courting, and he is presented as the worthy kind of man that Critobulus would also seek as a friend. He begins with a reference to the magical ‘spells’ (ἐπῴδαϛ) and ‘love potions’ (ϕίλτρα) that people can sing and administer in order to make people friendly towards them (2.6.10) and the comment that these ‘spells’ can be learned from the Sirens, who praised Oysseus in the songs they sang (ἐπῄδον). Page 6 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others He cites particularly Homer's line: ‘Come hither, much‐praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans’ (p.128) (Mem. 2.6.11, 14).13 Homer calls the Sirens ‘the enchanters of all mankind and whoever comes their way’, but men of worth like Odysseus would be their main visitors. Socrates adds that they caught other men with their songs who never left them once they were enchanted; and these by implication were men of worth who loved the honour that their praise satisfied. He goes on to speak of the ‘spells’ that Pericles sang to the polis in order to win their love, and he elsewhere refers to love potions and spells and magic wheels that have the same aim (3.11.17–18). Socrates seems to have worked hard on the Homeric episode to produce his interpretation. The epithets that Homer has the Sirens use enchant Odysseus because they acknowledge his part in the Trojan War, of which the Sirens claim to know all the facts (Od. 12.184–91).14 Later writers saw them as omniscient, it appears, but Socrates limits their knowledge to how to acquire friends. He glosses over the physical danger of the enchantment of the Sirens that Homer describes, but his playful reference to those who court friends as ‘hunters’ (Mem. 2.6.29, 33) carries a similar sense of danger even though the main point of the comparison is the mental and physical effort that goes in to acquiring a friend. Socrates goes on to contrast the Sirens with Scylla, whom Homer describes as a man‐eating monster (Od. 12.256), in order to support his instruction to Critobulus that he should not lay his hands in a violent way on those who inspire in him erotic thoughts (Mem. 2.6.31). According to Socrates, Scylla ‘lays hands on’ her victims and this drives them far away, whereas the enchantment of the Sirens lures them in from afar (2.6.31). Xenophon interprets Homer again when he makes Odysseus the model for the dialectician, in a more remarkable transformation, heralded in tragedy, where Odysseus is the verbal trickster. This is also found in Plato's brief reference to Odysseus and Nestor (p.129) composing rhetoric while at Troy.15 Socrates is here teaching dialectic to Euthydemus, who is a candidate for ‘the kingly art of leadership’ in the democracy. The transformation comes in the definition of Socratic dialectic at the end of the conversation (4.6.13–15). Socrates is said to have constantly led his interlocutors back to definitions by establishing the functions of things, and in this process he ‘proceeded through steps that secured most agreement’ thinking that this was ‘safety in speech’ (ταύτην τὴν ἀσϕάλειαν λόγου). And this is where he said that Homer called Odysseus a ‘safe orator’ because he too had the ability to persuade others by leading them through steps they agreed to (διὰ τω̑ν δοκούντων τοι̑ϛ ἀνθρώποιϛ). The original passages must have included Odysseus' description of the man who is accomplished in speaking as one who ‘safely’ speaks because of his ‘sweet reverence’: ὁ δ᾽ ἀσϕαλέωϛ ἀγορεύει αἰδοι̑ μειλιχίῃ (Od. 8.171–2).16 This was in the episode in which Euryalus had insulted Odysseus about his prowess, and he responded by noting that some people made no physical impression, but had a way with words that won people to his point of view. It is this winning way with words that becomes Page 7 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others the agreement that Socrates wins for his dialectical speech. Socrates takes up the idea of the security of the argument from Homer and translates his ‘sweet reverence’, which implies respect for the view of others, into the respect that dialectic shows by not being dogmatic or preachy. This interpretation reflects the general need for Xenophon's leaders to take their followers with them and secure their assent to be led. Socrates uses another kind of literary criticism of the poets, etymology, to encourage the correct relations between Callias and Autolycus as erastes and eromenos in Symposium 8.17 Socrates considers (p.130) that the best form of this relationship is spiritual rather than carnal and that the spiritual partnership will inspire Callias in the leadership of the polis that Socrates predicts for him. Among many other arguments, he gives an etymological interpretation of the name of Ganymede, the eromenos of Zeus, as proof of the nature of their relations. He argues that Zeus took delight in his soul rather than his body by quoting the poetic phrases ‘he delights in hearing’ and ‘knowing many thoughts in his mind’ (γάνυται δέ τ᾽ἀκούων, πυκινὰ ϕρεσὶ μήδεα εἰδώϛ) in order to derive Ganymede's name from delight and knowledge and conclude that the name spells out the motive for Zeus' seizure of the boy: he ‘delighted in knowledge’ i.e. had a well‐developed soul (8.30). He was not named, he said, as ‘sweet for his body’, but ‘sweet for his wisdom’. Obviously there is no greater leader imaginable than Zeus of Olympus, whom Callias is being called on to model. Homer was not the only poet Xenophon adapted to his interests in leadership. He has Socrates quote from Theognis on the need to associate with good men (Mem. 1.2.20, Symposium 2.4), without any need for interpretation since it supports his notion that people need to refresh their learning through practice and thus habituate themselves to the ways of virtue. He also quotes from Hesiod that no work is shame (Mem. 1.2.56: ἔργον δ᾽ οὐδὲν ὄνειδοϛ, ἀεργία δέ τ᾽ ὄνειδοϛ), and defends that against misinterpretation. Hesiod meant that physical farm work is no disgrace, particularly when wealth accrues from it, but some thought that Socrates endorsed the idea to suggest that no profit‐making ‘work’ was disgraceful even if it was criminal; Socrates responded to them in a complicated way with a definition of ‘work’ as good and ‘idleness’ as bad, so that ‘working’ was doing some good, and not something bad such as gambling.18 Xenophon's Socrates spells out the idea that work is no disgrace, but idleness is, at Mem. 2.7.7–8. Xenophon's Socrates quotes straightforward lines from Hesiod and Epicharmus on the need for toil (Mem. 2.1.20), as well as the famous lecture of the sophist Prodicus on the ‘Choice of Heracles’, where Vice and Virtue engage in a contest for Heracles' mind and (p.131) heart (2.1.21–34). It is quite probable that he adapted this prose piece to his own interests as he adapted Homer, since it is about the ability to toil that is central to his interests in leadership. But the extent to which he has adapted it we shall never know since his account of the Page 8 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others lecture is the only one we have.19 He is capable also of using animal fables to illustrate the principles of leadership, as when the sheep talk at Mem. 2.7.3. Xenophon's Socrates interprets the poets in this way to support his ethical and leadership theory. What is the effect of the intertextuality? We could say that his interpretations give authority to his thought by crediting it to their hidden intentions, and that he thus retains the integrity of the poet, who presumably intended the hidden meaning; but the intertextuality also enriches the images through comparison and contrast. Homer's Sirens give us new ways of thinking about the acquisition of friendship. Their enchantment gives deeper meaning to Socrates' own spells and potions, just as Circe's food gives new meaning to the danger of those stimulants, and Odysseus' winning speech to the image of the dialectician. We thus read the tension between the two levels of meaning, finding that Xenophon has not just put new wine in old bottles, but has created a dialogue between the bottle and the wine. Xenophon does not over‐use this kind of interpretation, but he knows how it is done and he knows its effects. The passages show that Xenophon can read between poetic lines in some weird ways; but there is no danger of the modern audience misreading the messages as there was for Socrates' accusers because these messages reflect the horizons of expectation that Xenophon lays down elsewhere. The mistaken impression that some took from the surface meaning may put us in mind of Strauss and his message for the coterie; in fact he did read the two audiences of kings and commoners that Odysseus addressed as the masses and the coterie to whom he addressed his two levels of irony (On Tyranny, p. 47f.). But Odysseus does not have a hidden message; rather he has different messages that he makes plain to each audience. Moreover the surface meaning about the beating of the demos is the one that offends the demos—it involved clear violence against them—while the hidden (p.132) message that Socrates expounds is fully democratic. If we consider his interpretations of Circe or the Sirens, neither the surface nor the hidden meaning is capable of any offence.

More Diffuse Epic Influences Arming Scenes

The knowledge Xenophon shows in his quotations and his interpretations of Homer give us reason to suppose that in other places where there seems to be an echo of the epic tradition, it may be deliberate. Howie (1996), 197–217 found the pattern of Homer's battle account, the heroic aristeia, in Xenophon's great battle of Sardis in Cyropaedia. His aim was to identify the continuance of the pattern that had been identified in Homer into later literature rather than to discuss Xenophon's adaptations and their effects, but his comments are very pertinent. We begin with arming scenes and descriptions of arms and armour within that wider pattern. Homer's scenes are formulaic, but still relatively rare because they represent high points in the narrative (Paris at Iliad 3.329–338, Agamemnon at the beginning of Iliad 11.15–44, Patroclus in 16.130–54, Achilles Page 9 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others at the end of 19.349–424).20 Xenophon writes similar scenes, also rarely, but whereas Homer's intentions in these scenes concern epic themes and the tragic vision, Xenophon emphasizes features of leadership through them.21 They avoid the formulaic language in Homer, but their focus on the arms and their description and the hero is the same, and they gain enrichment from engagement with Homer's scenes. Xenophon describes three stages in the arming of the forces before the great battle of Sardis against Croesus of Lydia, first arming the general forces, then Abradatas, and then Cyrus and his men. Homer's arming scenes correlate the magnificence of the arms with the status of the hero who wears them and his importance in the narrative. (p.133) Knowledge of these might make us expect that Cyrus will get the most attention, but instead Abradatas attracts the longest and most elaborate account. Moreover, when Xenophon does describe the arms of Cyrus at Cyropaedia 7.1.2, he puts him on equal terms even with his immediate followers in most respects. He says that they have the same arms as Cyrus (τοι̑ϛ αὐτοι̑ϛ ὅπλοιϛ), proof of their own status as ‘equals’ in their group, as well as their equality with him, and he describes their crimson tunics, bronze breastplates and helmets, white plumes, their short swords and cornel spears, their horses with bronze plating, and then their own armour plating. The arms of Cyrus differed from them, we are told, only in that their armour was painted with a colour that was like gold, but his ‘flashed out like a mirror’.22 Xenophon preserves his pre‐eminence in a single simile. He is not so given to similes that we might not suspect a signal here of the Homeric arming scene, for instance the arming of Achilles at the end of Iliad 19, in which his shield shone like the moon, his helmet gleams like a star, and his armour blazes like the sun. The idea that Xenophon is developing in this arming scene is that the leader does not get glory from having more magnificent arms than his followers but to the contrary from the superb condition of his followers, which he creates through his good leadership. This very Xenophontic thought recurs, in the advice of the wise Simonides to Hiero: ‘Do you think that you would strike more fear into your enemies if you were adorned yourself (κατακεκοσμημένοϛ) with the most splendid arms or if the whole polis was well armed for your service?’ (Hiero 11.3); and when Cyrus the Younger says of the gifts he sent to his friends that ‘he could not adorn (κοσμηθη̑ναι) his own body with all these, but he thought friends adorned in the finest way (καλω̑ϛ κεκοσμημένουϛ) were the greatest ornament (μέγιστον κόσμον) to a man’ (An. 1.9.23); and when Cyrus the Great remarks when he gives fine costume to others (Cyr. 8.3.4): ‘Do I not seem to you to be adorned by adorning you’. The thought is also worked out in a vignette from his earlier life, when Cyaxares summoned Cyrus to come to him as quickly as possible and gave him clothing to impress the Indians, who were their allies. Cyrus does not take the time to put (p.134) it on, but came with all speed, putting his troops through various complicated manoeuvres before lining them up for parade quicksmart in front of Cyaxares' gates (2.4.1–4). Cyaxares praised Page 10 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others his speed but was disappointed in his lack of fine clothing, declaring that a nephew looking good would be an ornament (κόσμοϛ) to himself. Cyrus asks whether he would be a greater ornament if he had obeyed his summons more slowly as a result of putting on the elaborate costume or if he had come more quickly, ornamented as he was (κεκοσμημένοϛ) in Cyaxares' honour with his sweat, his enthusiastic service, and the ready obedience of his followers (2.4.6). The sweat of an enthusiastic follower is an adornment to a commander elsewhere too.23 Xenophon will use this ornament motif again in a different way in the arming scene for Abradatas below. In other ways too, Cyrus' arming scene proclaims the new style of leadership through engagement with epic. The arming is preceded by the speech from the leader, the meal and the sacrifice (speech: 6.4.12–20, meal and sacrifice 7.1.1) as in the sequence in Iliad 2, where Agamemnon gives the speech and the men briefly eat and sacrifice (398–401); but whereas Homer gives Agamemnon a long, separate, formulaic scene of eating and sacrifice to which he invites other heroes of similar status (402–40),24 Cyrus eats with his men and ‘gave a share of the food most of all to the one who needed it’, implying no special ranking of them or privilege for himself (7.1.1). He then drinks while praying and the rest ‘did the same’. Finally, with a prayer to Zeus, he mounts his horse and instructs his men to do the same and the description of the arms follows. The reader's knowledge of Homeric patterns would enrich Xenophon's demonstration of Cyrus' equality with his men as a feature of his leadership. The Socratic interpretations show us how familiar Xenophon expected his readers to be with Homer's work. Homer set the orderly sequence for the donning of the arms, with the helmet and spears being taking up last. It may be that Xenophon plays with this sequence to show leadership qualities in Anabasis. Cyrus the Younger arms himself and his followers in the crisis before (p.135) the battle of Cunaxa when he received the alarming news of the proximity of the large enemy army (1.8.3). Xenophon's other arming scenes are preceded by meals and sacrifices, but Cyrus has no time for them: ‘he leaped down from his chariot and was putting on his corselet, then leaped onto his horse and took his spears into his hands; and he told the rest of the men to arm themselves (ἐξοπλίζεσθαι) and get into their various positions’. After a description of the dispositions they formed (4–5), we find Cyrus with his followers on horseback. His followers are fully armed according to his instruction: corselets, thigh‐protectors, helmets—‘all of them except for Cyrus’; Cyrus goes bare‐headed and helmetless into battle (1.8.6). The manuscripts report that ‘the other Persians also risk their lives in battle without their helmets’ but editors bracket this as a gloss. It would be nice to think that some scribe has either missed or detected a delicate point, for his lack of a helmet might cause the fatal wound he eventually receives: ‘under the eye’, as Xenophon notes (1.8.27). The incompletion of his arming scene would signal some imminent disaster to readers who knew the manner of his death and even Page 11 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others to those who did not know. More importantly for the theme of leadership, the incomplete arming indicates that Cyrus sacrifices his own arming to the proper arming of his followers, which reveals again the care for followers that the ideal leader should practice. The arming elements in this scene also cross with another set of elements that define the topos of the leader's concern for his men in the reaction to bad news, which will be the focus of a later chapter when Xenophon creates his own topoi.25 At Hellenica 4.5.8, where Agesilaus reacts to a similar crisis, his arming is not the issue, but he sacrifices his own interests to those of his followers in a different way, which is by going without the preliminary meal before rushing to resolve the crisis: ἀνάριστοϛ. The sacrifice of a helmet before battle was more dangerous. We have seen above the arming of Cyrus and his immediate followers before the battle of Sardis, in which Cyrus will conquer Croesus and his forces through his skills as a commander and the excellence of his relations with his troops. There is an earlier scene in (p.136) which the rest of the army is armed and described in arms. It begins with the general arming of the infantry and cavalry (Cyr. 6.4.1) and is followed by the specific arming scene of the hero Abradatas (6.4.2–9), who is one of those who joined Cyrus in the course of his crusade. Homer gives us a similar structural combination when he combines a preceding description of the arming of the masses with the individual arming of Achilles at the end of Iliad 19, which is the greatest of the arming scenes (Armstrong (1958), 350: ‘greater expansion, more variation, greater subtlety in composition’). Homer describes the masses streaming onto the plain like a snowstorm; and makes special mention of their arms: gleaming helmets, bossy shields, plated corselets, lancewood spears, the sheen filling the sky, the earth laughing with the glitter of metal (19.350–62). Xenophon describes how the army was in ‘tunics many and fine, and in corselets and helmets many and fine’ and the horses armed, both fighting and chariot ones, with various kinds of plating: προμετωπιδίοιϛ και προστερνιδίοιϛ, καὶ τοὺϛ μὲν μονίππουϛ παραμηριδίοιϛ, τοὺϛ δ' ὑπὸ τοι̑ϛ ἅρμασιν ὄνταϛ παραπλευριδίοιϛ. The effect overall was that they ‘blossomed’ in crimson and ‘gleamed’ in bronze (their armour and weapons): ἤστραπτε μὲν χαλκῳ̑, ἤνθει δε ϕοινικίσι πα̑σα ἡ στρατία. The description of the plating draws attention to the technical innovations that Cyrus had made in the cavalry, another work of the good commander, and in chariot design, where he had abandoned the earlier style of ‘Trojan’ chariot (6.1.27–30, 6.1.50–5: where Abradatas joins in the innovations, 6.2.7–8, 6.4.16). Homer's formulaic descriptions of the preparations of the chariot as part of his arming scenes may come to mind,26 and that might enrich through difference by emphasizing Cyrus' innovations in design. With ‘and as for Abradatas’ Xenophon singles out the hero from the chariot group as Homer singled out Achilles. Abradatas gets special attention because he is one of Cyrus' staunchest companions, the King of Susa, husband of the redoubtable Panthea,27 and he is (p.137) also destined to die in this battle, as Page 12 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others the only serious fatality among Cyrus' close friends. A later episode will have Cyrus seek him out after the battle and find him dead, with his wife sitting beside him, soon to commit suicide over his body. Her arming and farewell of her husband is a main feature of his arming scene and a major innovation in the tradition.28 Homeric precedents have been noted in the parting of Hector and Andromache (below).29 Abradatas' chariot is ‘adorned most beautifully’ παγκαλω̑ϛ with a team of no fewer than eight horses on a chariot that is four‐poled. His arming begins with the strapping on of his ‘local’ corselet, which is made of linen, and this looks to be developing into the epic sequence that culminates in the helmet, but it is interrupted (‘just when he was about to put on the linen corselet’). The interruption is striking enough, but is made the more striking if we have the Homeric sequence in mind. The interruption is the arrival of his wife Panthea, who brings him new armour. She may bear a passing resemblance to the goddess Thetis who had the new arms made for her son Achilles, and in that comparison her position as the wife rather than the mother takes our attention and focuses interest on husband/wife relations, which Xenophon conceives as a partnership of friends in his Oeconomicus 7–10 and which he develops here for the implications it has for that kind of leadership as well as the leadership of Cyrus. The new armour is certainly described in detail, not as much detail as the arms of Achilles, but exotic enough: first a golden corselet to replace the traditional linen one that he was about to put on, and in addition a golden helmet and shoulderpads, jewellery for his hands, a purple tunic that falls to the feet in pleats and a plume for the helmet that has been ‘steeped in hyacinth’, a highly exotic and unusual adjective and dye. The exotic items prove his wife's devotion, and the interruption of the epic sequence draws attention to this. The Homeric reader might notice that the excellence of the arms of Xenophon's hero relies on his success with his (p.138) wife rather than any other epic condition. The jewellery for his hands may be a pathetic touch—his right hand will be chopped off in the fighting, and when Cyrus takes the dead man's hand in friendship (ἐδεξιου̑το), it will come away from the body and ‘follow’ him in death as it did in life (ἐπηκολούθησεν). Panthea shows her devotion in small Xenophontic points, such as the care she took to measure her husband's old armour to get a perfect fit for the new arms (6.4.2). Xenophon elsewhere uses the measure of the ‘good’ in philosophic terms to require that armour be not only beautiful but also comfortable and effective (Mem. 3.10.9–15). The injection of this thought would provide a new take on the descriptions of the fit of the arms of Homer's heroes, such as Paris: Iliad 3.333: ἥρμοσε δ᾽αὐτῳ̑. Her devotion is revealed also in the source of the precious metal for the armour and here Xenophon uses again the motif of ‘ornament’. Abradatas asks that she has surely not ‘chopped up’ ‘her own ornament’ to produce it—he means her jewellery. She responds that she has not destroyed the most valuable piece, since if he seems to others as he seems to her, he is her ‘greatest Page 13 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others ornament’, her main jewel. I think this would be an instance of Xenophontic ‘charm’ in thought and in the economy of the language. Motifs are also at work in the ‘chopping up’ of valuable items in service to others: Cyrus the Younger declares that he will chop up the very throne on which he sits when he pledges his commitment to the Spartan war effort in Hellenica 1.5.3; that throne too, Xenophon adds, was made of silver and gold. If there is a Thetis lurking behind Panthea, then readers would notice that her appeal to the god to make the arms for Achilles is replaced here by Panthea's more personal sacrifice of what a women might be thought to love best. Further sentiment threatens to swamp the scene. As Panthea puts the armour on her man, she weeps, but in a charming touch she tries to hide the tears that come from her awareness of the dangers that await him in battle. There might be a brief passing reference to the tears of Andromache when she bids farewell to Hector, but weeping is a gesture of friendship for which Xenophon has a fondness, in men as well as women (Hellenica 5.4.27, 7.1.32, 7.2.9). Xenophon comments when the arming is complete that though Abradatas had been worthy of the gaze before, the sight he made in his new arms was of ‘a man most noble and most free’ and was (p.139) matched by the ‘nature he had’. This is again a Xenophontic touch that echoes Socrates' lesson that one must ‘be’ in reality what one ‘seems’ to be in order to avoid damage to the common good: Mem. 1.7, 2.6.38–9. The armour might be mere show if it did not cover a real man. As he is about to mount the chariot, Panthea dismisses the servants and delivers a speech that has more definite echoes of Homer's Andromache and seems to subvert her values in Iliad 6.390–465. In spite of her devotion to him, Panthea says: ‘I swear by our friendship, yours and mine, that I would wish to be sent under the earth with you as a man who fought well than live in disgrace with a man who has been disgraced’ (μετ ᾽αἰσχυνομένου αἰσχυνομένη). In Homer, Andromache wishes to join Hector underground because she will have only sorrow when he goes and it is the hero rather than the wife who speaks of the disgrace he will incur by not fighting. Panthea sets a new standard of conjugal love for epic readers but plays out Andromache's commitment when she does join Abradatas in his noble death under the ground by committing suicide over his body, and Xenophon bears witness to it by mentioning her tomb (7.3.2–16). She has a manly spirit that Xenophon's Socrates admired in the wife of Ischomachus (Oec. 10.1). Andromache did not kill herself, nor did Briseis, in a similar circumstance, though she threw herself on Patroclus' body in Iliad 19.282–304, mourning the loss of her champion. Panthea is more than the Homeric woman when she kills herself. Panthea also brings Cyrus into her speech. Here another epic theme may resonate, for she refers to how she was taken as a captive and given to Cyrus as a prize. This is indeed how she makes her first appearance in Cyropaedia (4.6.11),30 and she reminds Abradatas in this scene of the debt they owe Cyrus, because he did not treat her as a slave or concubine when he took her as his Page 14 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others prize, but kept her for her husband as he would a brother's sister. If we do have Andromache's farewell of Hector in mind, there may some enrichment coming from Hector's comment on Andromache's future as a captive, which is far different from the treatment Panthea has received from Cyrus. Hector imagined Andromache dragged away weeping to be a (p.140) slave in some other man's house, taking orders at the loom from another woman, and carrying and fetching water under harsh necessity.31 Other captured women pass as prizes into the hands of their husband's killers, as Achilles has killed the husband of his prize, Briseis (Iliad 19.282–300).32 In contrast to this, Cyrus did not bed or enslave Panthea but by treating her well he gained her husband as an ally too. His self‐ control is made more admirable by the awareness he has of her evident sexual attractions in the episode in which he sets Araspas to guard her. He resists those temptations by not visiting her, whereas Araspas succumbs in spite of his confidence that he could handle them;33 as a result, in Xenophon's epic, it is the owner of the prize who protects her against bad treatment rather than dealing it out. The role of the woman as an active recruiter of allies such as her husband,34 introduces us also to the world of values that is Xenophon's own. Abradatas' arming scene ends with his departure. He mounts the chariot with a prayer that he prove worthy of Panthea and Cyrus, and his charioteer closes the doors. Panthea is no longer able to kiss him, so she kisses the chariot instead and follows on behind it. Abradatas tells her to go back and her eunuchs and maids enclose her in her wagon. But Xenophon says that ‘though the sight of Abradatas and the chariot was fine indeed, people could not gaze on him before Panthea disappeared from view’. The focus on Panthea rather than the departing warrior and his chariot may be another subversion of Homeric scenes.35 A boldly intertextual reader might gloss the transference of the gaze from the fine sight of the warrior and his chariot: ‘how different from Homeric departures’. (p.141) It may be that other types of literature would offer another focus for intertextual study of the story of Panthea and Abradatas. Herodotus has no heterosexual love stories of this type, but Ctesias included love stories in his history, such as the love of the Assyrian queen Semiramis and her husband Ninus, who also died in battle. But we do not know enough about his presentation or of the general tradition of the eastern love story to work out the ways in which Xenophon's story might have interacted with theirs. It is more regular to point out how Xenophon might have influenced the later tradition of the love story rather than how the tradition might have influenced him, and in that context Panthea's sentimental gesture in kissing the chariot may find its parallel in the kissing of clothing in the Greek novella.36 Perhaps a woman's intervention in an arming scene before battle was part of the eastern repertoire and Xenophon is adopting it, but that would be a pure guess, whereas his knowledge of arming scenes in military narrative from Homer are certain, and Panthea's status as a captive prize is Homeric, and a case for Homeric

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others intertextuality is strengthened by the effects that it produces for the reader when it is considered. The Larger Aristeia

Xenophon places his arming scenes in a broader account of the battle of Sardis. Among the arresting points of resemblance to the Homeric aristeia, Howie (1996), 209 reminds us that the aristeia of a Homeric hero often involves his being wounded and that we come near to that in Xenophon's great battle of Sardis when Cyrus falls from his horse (7.1.30); we observe that the wounding is transferred to the horse and that Cyrus is saved by the love of those around him, whereas Homer's heroes are more often saved by the love of the gods. This adaptation enriches the vignette and emphasizes the value of the love of followers over the love of the gods, and we can also insert between the lines the Xenophontic thought that the gods are there to help us only (p.142) in matters that are unknowable and are not required to save our lives if we get ourselves into trouble (Mem. 1.1.6–9). The question remains, though, whether we read this scene in the light of the aristeia, or whether Xenophon is adapting to the near‐ death of a hero his own vignette of willing obedience, which we will see in the next chapter as something well established in his other works.37 If we think of both, of course we have an even greater energy in the scene. Howie (204–5) also speaks of motifs in the formula of the aristeia that substitute some other event for the wounding of the hero (as when the arms of Achilles prevent this happening), but he does not go so far as to see the killing of Abradatas as a substitute for the wounding of Cyrus. If we did go that far, the substitution would point to the intense friendship Cyrus has inspired in Abradatas, who volunteers for the position of danger and in that respect dies for the cause of Cyrus, another mark of good leadership relations, which Panthea also endorses in her speech. Howie (1996), 209–10 notices that Xenophon's Cyrus is not Homeric when he stops the slaughter of the Egyptians (‘setting him apart from any Homeric hero’), but we also notice the Xenophontic theme in which Cyrus stops the slaughter in order to make friends out of erstwhile enemies (see below). There is further enrichment in the idea that Cyrus stops the killing, rather than a god as in Homer, which makes Cyrus godlike—a characteristic we will see also in the adaptation of Herodotus' meeting with Croesus below. In a separate imitation of Homer in this battle of Sardis, we can observe with some confidence the resonance in which Xenophon has Cyrus address each of his main leaders by name and give them individual encouragement before the main battle (7.1.10–22, cf. 6.3 26–37), which recalls Agamemnon in Iliad 4.223– 418. Xenophon uses repeated phrases to describe his progress among the troops such as ‘among others processing he spoke’ and these can be directly compared with Agamemnon's: ‘so he spoke and Atreides cheerful of heart went on’ (lines 272, 326). This gives flesh and bones to the relevance to Xenophon of Socrates' paradigm of Agamemnon as the ideal leader. Cyrus becomes Agamemnon.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (p.143) Anabasis

Xenophon's Anabasis has been seen as another focus of intertextuality.38 In an important article Tuplin (2003) was guarded about specific allusions (‘It is very hard to tell. It is hard to tell’: p. 125), but concluded that the accumulated effect of possible allusions was to raise the status of the Anabasis and to add extra dimensions to matters of thematic importance (141).39 We have seen above the possible influence from Homer's Iliad on the arming of Cyrus before the battle of Cunaxa. There is also the suggestion that the suicide of his faithful retainer Artapatas over the dead body of Cyrus (1.8.28–9) might be a substitute for the Homeric struggle over the corpse (while noting that the reference to Ctesias' witness in the duel between Cyrus and his brother is altogether non‐Homeric).40 The suicide is certainly one of Xenophon's own vignettes of willing obedience, the focus of the next chapter. There is the possibility too of the influence of Iliad on the obituary for Cyrus, which might enrich and demonstrate Xenophon's very different preoccupations with leadership. There are loose parallels also with Homer's Odyssey that would be detected even by the general reader, such as the general resemblance of the man described by Homer in the first lines of Odyssey, as one who saw many towns and learned the ways of many people and took his followers through much toil on land and sea, to the leaders of the Ten Thousand who also travelled and toiled and saw and learned (p.144) much. The theme of homecoming that is so strong in the later books of Anabasis is Odyssean,41 and the success Xenophon and the others had in preserving lives may make them better leaders than Odysseus, whose comrades met some grisly deaths. The awareness of Odyssey is shown in allusions at Anabasis 3.2.25, where Xenophon says that the men might forget their way home like the Lotophagi once they are used to eastern luxury and the big, beautiful eastern women, and the speech in which he has Leon of Thurii say that he would like sail back to Greece stretched out like Odysseus on his raft (5.1.2); the first reference suggests Xenophon's extensive knowledge because it alludes to an episode that has been described as ‘rarely recalled in literature and never depicted figuratively’.42 The debt to Homer must of course be measured against other influences. However, where his influence can be identified, Homer is enriching Xenophon's images of leaders by highlighting their new values in scenes of significance. Xenophon redefines greatness in the dynamics between leaders and followers in these adaptations of Homer just as he did in his evaluations in Hellenica, and through intertextuality he throws fresh light on their new and often quite un‐ Homeric requirements.

Adaptation of Herodotus' Cyrus The intertextuality with Herodotus is a feature of more extensive parts of Cyropaedia.43 Xenophon's main narrative follows Herodotus, adapting his major episodes in Cyrus' life to the theme of leadership, however much it is influenced by what he heard from contemporary Persians of their great ancestor (1.2.1). Page 17 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others Herodotus did not always paint a bleak picture of Cyrus as a leader and could have at various (p.145) points inspired the version that Xenophon gives us.44 There is very little in Herodotus' narrative of Cyrus about those imperious brutalities towards Persians and others that attach themselves to Cambyses or to Xerxes. Xenophon has none of this either. Herodotus says in his own voice that the Persians called Cyrus ‘father’ because of his ‘mildness’ and his ‘benefits’ to them (3.89), and Hystaspes, who is a main figure also in Xenophon, tells the Herodotean Cyrus that the Persians owe their freedom from the Medes and their rule of other nations to him (1.210.2). Xenophon picks up and develops this image of the father and has his Persians as well as subject nations see Cyrus in this light for his benefits to them (below pp. 325–8). Even Herodotus' treatment of Croesus, which may begin with his attempt to burn him on the pyre, ends with his kind instruction to his heir Cambyses to honour and benefit him (1.208). We shall see below the positive spin that Xenophon also puts on this. As for the subject nations, Herodotus' comment (3.89) that Cyrus did not require tribute from them but received ‘gifts’ from them is reflected in Xenophon's idea that these nations desired to show ‘favour’ to Cyrus through the giving of gifts (Cyr. 8.6.23). In his adaptation of the bleaker realities of Herodotus, Xenophon sometimes proceeds through omission. He omits for instance his attempt to burn Croesus alive on the pyre. Sometimes he enlarges brief suggestions in Herodotus, as when he has the Egyptians come to the great battle against Croesus (they were summoned in Herodotus, but did not arrive—so quick was his fall). He does this in order to have Cyrus show his mercy to them once defeated. More often he tackles the same topics as Herodotus but gives them an entirely different spin. He rewrites Cyrus' childhood relations with his mother Mandane, his father Cambyses, and her father the Median king Astyages—no longer the folktale characters of the princess married to the commoner who is pregnant with the usurper of her father's regime, and the grandfather who tries to eliminate him as a competitor,45 but the loving sire, the devoted mother to which Cyrus (p.146) shows his instinctive ability to adopt the right values, and the father who instructs his son in leadership values. Cyrus himself is no longer the usurper either, but the immature but promising pattern of the future king. Herodotus has him show his prodigious potential for despotism in the use of the whip on other boys when he is given the position of king in the game they play (1.114), but in Xenophon he shows his prodigious potential for attracting love (1.3–4). Herodotus' Cyrus demilitarized and feminized the Lydians when they revolted (1.155–6), but Xenophon's Cyrus took those Lydians who showed enthusiasm in arms into his army and only disarmed those who showed no enthusiasm, whom he demoted to the rank of slingers (7. 4.14). Xenophon also rewrites Cyrus' death, in which he does not fulfil the Herodotean pattern of rise and fall by entertaining grander than mortal thoughts and ending his life with his head in a skin full of blood after his defeat by the queen of the Massagetae, but dying in Page 18 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others his bed, surrounded by those Persians to whom he has brought such eudaimonia (8.7). Xenophon provides Cyrus with a warning of his imminent death, as Herodotus does, but the nature of the warning is different, and whereas the Herodotean Cyrus duly misinterprets it (1.209), Xenophon's Cyrus reaches a correct interpretation and prepares for his death with prayer and advice (8.7.2).46 And whereas Herodotus' Cyrus entertains more than mortal thoughts in thinking that his birth made him more than mortal (1.204), Xenophon's Cyrus indicates in his prayer to the gods before his death that he has never entertained such thoughts (8.7.3), and he repeats this to those who gather at his bed (8.7.7), in the course of advising his sons to work together and speculating on the nature of the soul. When it comes to Herodotus' version of the battle of Sardis, Xenophon very consciously rejects his explanation of the victory in order to demonstrate Cyrus' good leadership. Herodotus' Cyrus won the battle with a curious stratagem. He knew that the strength of the Lydians lay in their cavalry, and he is presented as fearful of it, so, at the suggestion of Harpagus (1.80.2), he brought the camels out of his baggage train, made them into a unit, and frightened the enemy horses, and this is presented as decisive in the victory: ‘when the (p.147) horses smelled the camels and saw them, they turned back, and Croesus’ expectation was completely lost' (1.80.5). In a subversion of Herodotus, Xenophon begins quite early in his narrative of the battle preparations to slip in lots of references to these camels (6.1.30, 6.1.28, 6.2.18, 6.3.33), but when it comes to it, he denies outright that the camels determined the outcome of the battle (7.1.27). ‘The camels just frightened the horses, the horsemen on them did no killing, nor were they killed by horsemen—because no horse went near them…’ (7.1.49). Typically Xenophon attributes the victory to Cyrus' man management rather than camel management. This emphasis on man management emerges in his direct evaluations, for instance when he has Abradatas volunteer for the position of special danger against the Egyptians and then comments on his own good relations with his followers when the charge comes: ‘in many other cases too it is clear that a phalanx is never stronger than when it is made up of friendly allies, and on this occasion too it was the case’ (7.1.30). In the charge led by Cyrus himself we have further proof of the need for good relations in the vignette in which Cyrus is toppled from his horse and saved by his men (7.1.38): ‘then indeed a man would have seen how worthwhile it is for a commander to be loved by his followers.’ Cyrus is also responsible for innovations in the cavalry and chariot design, which helped win the victory more than any camels. The camels returned to their proper place in the baggage train whence they had come, but the new styles of chariots were retained in battle ‘even unto his own time’ (7.1.46–8)—unlike the camels. Xenophon also expands Herodotus' brief mention of the Egyptians in this battle in order to illustrate Cyrus' good leadership. Herodotus had Croesus summon his Egyptian allies to assist him in the battle according to an oath that they had Page 19 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others sworn (1.77), but they do not have time to appear, because Cyrus reached the area and attacked him so quickly. In Xenophon they do arrive and prove their military excellence against the Persians even if they are in the end defeated (7.1.30–41). One purpose of this appearance is to allow Cyrus to show his mercy toward them and win their friendship. Their fighting is terrific and they cause the death of Abradatas (7.1.29–35). Cyrus alone can master them (7.1.37–40). As he surveys the carnage on the battlefield from one of the tower machines (p. 148) he has invented, he is ‘amazed’ at their resistance and ‘pities’ the destruction of such good men (7.1.41). He asks them whether they wish to continue fighting for allies who have betrayed them or to be saved while still preserving their reputation as good men ('seeming to be'). They seek to know how Cyrus will ‘use them’ if they surrender. His answer is that his use will consist of doing them good and receiving good from them in return: εὐ̑ ποιει̑ν, εὐ̑ πάσχειν. He is true to his word and on their surrender he takes them on as mercenaries in his own forces and fulfils his promise also to give them land and cities and women and servants when the war is over: Xenophon notes that he settled them in cities in the western empire now known as Egyptian and near the sea in Larissa and Cyllene, where their descendants still dwell in Xenophon's own time and ‘remain faithful to the king’, as a proof that Cyrus was faithful to the pledges he gave them on that battlefield (7.1.41). He mentions these ‘Egyptian’ cities in Hellenica 3.1.7. Cyrus' treatment of them is of course in accordance with the view that Persian kings honour brave men. The treatment of the Egyptians is informed by patterns that enhance Cyrus' greatness further. When the Egyptians seek to be exempted from marching against their former friend Croesus because he alone had recognized their prowess, Cyrus allows it and conforms to the correct behaviour of the Thebans also in Hellenica, where the Corinthians, when they make alliance with Thebes, seek and receive the same dispensation not to campaign against their former friends, the Spartans, and then go also to the Spartans to ask their permission to ally with Thebes, on the grounds that that they may be useful to them at some future time if they make peace rather than perish (Hell. 7.4.6–8). The conclusion of Herodotus' work is reworked too by Xenophon. Herodotus tells the story of the Persian Artembares, who suggested to Cyrus that they choose a fairer land than Persia to dwell in, as was fitting for rulers, now that they had conquered the world. Cyrus told them to go ahead, but expect to be ruled by others rather than go on ruling, on the grounds that hard lands alone bred hard men. Xenophon turns this into a speech (7.5.72–86), where Cyrus dispenses with environmental determinism and the possible change of land, but preserves the gist of the advice, to make it serve his own leadership (p.149) theory. Cyrus advises his Persians that they must continue to show themselves to be better than those they rule, which is the only qualification for ruling others, that the choice is between ruling and being ruled, and that therefore they must continue to practise the hard life of free rulers rather than the easy life of subjects Page 20 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (7.5.75). As the cause of decline, instead of environmental determinism, he puts forward the argument credited to Socrates in Memorabilia 1.2.19–23: that virtue comes from training and once the training is stopped, the virtue will go too. The various forms of intertextuality above enrich Xenophon's presentations of leadership. The narratives are comprehensible in their own terms, but the new values stand out more strongly in the light of Herodotus. They often endorse Herodotus in a positive way, as in the last example, where new arguments confirm the old message that those who rule need to remain enduring and hard. Elsewhere Xenophon is provoking the reader to reflect on two very different modes of viewing greatness in history and of explaining success. On the matter of the camels for instance, the intertextuality confronts the question whether stratagems or men count in the winning of victories, and the reader must think of Teleutias and the dismissal of the great stratagem that is the thing worthy of report in favour of the real leader's achievement. The Meeting of Cyrus and Croesus

Xenophon's adaptations include the account of the meeting of Cyrus with Croesus, which has been skilfully read by Eckard Lefèvre as another demonstration that Cyrus is a wiser and better man than in Herodotus, more familiar with the art of management (7.2).47 In the Herodotean version of this episode (1.86–7), Cyrus has conquered Croesus and is burning him alive as his captive king. In the midst of the flames Croesus calls on the name of Solon three times, moving (p.150) Cyrus to inquire as to his identity. He then relays the wise advice that Solon had given him about the nature of happiness (a reference back to 1.29–34), advice, he says, that should be taken by any king. Cyrus takes the point and realizes that he is burning another ruler like himself who was once no less happy than himself. Fearing retribution and realizing that human affairs are not secure, he tries to put out the flame, but only Apollo can save Croesus. Croesus calls on his name and is miraculously saved by a rainstorm that extinguishes the fire. Impressed by this divine intervention, Cyrus asks why he marched against him instead of befriending him, and Croesus blames Apollo and the oracles that misled him. Released from his bonds, he then gives Cyrus wise advice about the plundering of Sardis, warning him that his followers will become insolent once they are wealthy and will challenge his rule. Cyrus accepts this wisdom and the ruse Croesus suggests that will stop the plundering. He then allows Croesus to go to Delphi to find out why the god had ended his happiness by having him conquered by Cyrus. Xenophon's adaptation of this episode discards the notion of Cyrus burning Croesus alive. It begins with their meeting. Croesus as captive king salutes Cyrus as ‘master’, the name he says that ‘chance’ now brings him to use. Cyrus salutes Croesus in return as a human being like himself (7.2.10)—Cyrus in his humanity does not need to learn something that Herodotus' Cyrus comes to realize only as Croesus burns on the pyre. Xenophon then also subverts the Page 21 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others Herodotean Croesus' advice that Cyrus will be creating a threat to his rule if he allows his men to become rich on the booty of Sardis (1.88). His Cyrus is already aware of a problem caused by the plundering of Sardis (7.2.11), but it is not the problem as the Herodotean Croesus diagnosed it: for rather than fearing to allow his followers to become wealthy, he is concerned about how to distribute that wealth among them in the fairest way. His preferred policy is to reward his followers according to merit, whereas plunder means the spoils go to those who can grab the most. This implements his idea of reward for merit that he introduced earlier in the work (2.2–3). In a completely new development on Herodotus, moreover, Xenophon does not let Apollo tell Croesus why he had lost his happiness. Instead, he makes Croesus describe the process of Socratic self‐ knowledge that he has reached as a result of being defeated in (p.151) battle by a man such as Cyrus, who is so much better than himself in his lineage and achievement. This now leads him in the full light of this knowledge to accept gladly the eudaimonia that Cyrus offers him: which is to be restored to his family and his palace and table, but forbidden to conduct warfare. Croesus welcomes this as the eudaimonia that he gave to the person he loves best, which is his wife. Lefèvre recognizes that Croesus has an inferior view of happiness to Cyrus, whose virtue consists in ruling others for their happiness, but also that this is the appropriate kind for one who no longer even in his own admission considers himself kingly. Lefèvre says of his happiness: ‘To be sure that is a βιοτή that Xenophon would feel to be unworthy of Cyrus, but hardly—and that is the second point we must consider—of Croesus. He cannot be seriously compared with Cyrus, however superior he may be to the rest of humanity, as the comparison has shown: he is already utterly inferior to him by birth, and by nature too (7. 2. 24); what befits him is different from what befits Cyrus. What for Cyrus is a reproach may still be an honour for others.’ Xenophon comments at the end of their meeting that Cyrus kept Croesus by his side from then on: εἴτε ἄρα καὶ χρήσιμόν τι νομίζων αὐτὸν εἰ̑ναι εἴτε καὶ ἀσϕαλέστερον οὕτωϛ ἡγούμενοϛ ‘either thinking he was useful in some way or that it was the safer course’ (7.2.29). Security is a valid concern since Croesus has already risen twice in arms against him. His usefulness seems to be a nod in the direction of Herodotus' wise adviser, and what Cyrus looks for in others, but the double motivation may suggest that the possibility of wise advice is only one perhaps remote option in one who is so wise.48 Croesus' advice certainly proves a foil for Cyrus' more perfect knowledge in the later episode, when Croesus sees fit to tell Cyrus that he should not give his wealth away to his friends, but hoard it in treasure chests (Cyr. 8.2.15–23). He is behaving as we would expect the Herodotean Croesus to behave, who showed his treasure chests to Solon as proof (p.152) of his happiness in wealth; but Cyrus proves him wrong by showing that his friends are his treasure chests, whose wealth he can request at any time because they love him.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others The effect of these adaptations of Herodotus seems fairly plain, but darker readings have challenged the sunny surface. They allege Xenophon's authorial irony at the expense of the character Croesus, but also Croesus' own character irony, and both darken the character of Cyrus. The authorial irony has Xenophon present Croesus as one who is ignorant of true happiness in spite of his claim to self‐knowledge and ironically accepts a kind of happiness that Cyrus and the audience know to be inferior. This reflects badly on Cyrus because he ‘feminizes’ Croesus by offering him a happiness that Croesus himself would give to his wife, thereby entering Croesus in the list of the others whom Cyrus deliberately sets out to reduce to passive dependence, such as his uncle Cyaxares.49 Another reading credits Croesus himself with irony in pretending to accept the life he is offered as if it were true happiness. There is some kind of game going on, in which he is trying to get the moral advantage over Cyrus. This casts Cyrus as cunning enough to recognize what is going on and jockeying for superior position himself.50 So, before their meeting, in this reading, when Croesus is still in his palace, and he ‘calls out for Cyrus' (7.2.5), his call is described as an ‘imperious gesture’ that would shift the power balance from Cyrus to Croesus if Cyrus came.51 When Cyrus does not come and leaves people to guard him instead, this is interpreted as a reply to the power‐play: Cyrus is deliberately not meeting Croesus on his home ground in his magnificence as king because he knows he would lose the upper hand. The guards Cyrus leaves are called ‘ordinary’ soldiers, (p.153) to suggest demeaning treatment, but this is not in the narrative either. When we look at the word translated as ‘calling’ (literally ‘shouts out the name of Cyrus': ἐβόα), we find that Xenophon uses it at 5.1.6–7 and 7.1.38 as a shout of passionate emotion, and it is the word Herodotus uses when Croesus calls out the name of Apollo as he is burning on the pyre 1.87.1: ἐπιβώσασθαι. Croesus is not imperiously summoning Cyrus then, but calling on his name as the Herodotean Croesus did, in emotional despair. This better fits the Herodotean adaptation that we know Xenophon is conducting, and particularly Xenophon's replacement of the god Apollo in the Herodotean version with his own divine Cyrus, which Lefèvre says is one of the effects of the adaptation overall in his account. The opening of the conversation is also read as Croesus’ attempt to engage in such games. When Croesus calls Cyrus ‘master’ on the grounds that tyche has given this name to Cyrus, his use of ‘master’ is said to be just flattery, whereas his comment that tyche has reduced him to this appellation is taken to represent his true view that it is luck alone that led to his defeat; this casts doubt on the sincerity of his speech, in which he will speak of his defeat as the result of his inferiority to Cyrus rather than mere luck. Yet Herodotus found no difficulty in marrying chance, which Solon saw as the main reality of human experience, with a defeat by a superior, and it is likely, in view of the other allusions to Herodotus in the passage, that Croesus' reference to tyche is an echo of Solon's advice to Page 23 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others the Herodotean Croesus that man is subject to chance in his lifetime and for this reason can never count himself permanently happy. In this reading the juxtaposition of ‘chance’ with ‘master’ economically reprises that wisdom. Cyrus' comment about their common humanity is also read as a manipulation of Croesus: ‘His pleasantry silently disarms the trap Croesus laid for him’: Tatum (1989), 154. Yet it is typical of Xenophon's adaptation of Herodotus that he credits Cyrus with perfect knowledge and this comment on mortality just reflects that he already knows what the Herodotean Cyrus has to learn from Croesus about the human condition. This intertextuality makes Cyrus' comment much more than just a ‘pleasantry’. Croesus is then said in the main encounter to demonstrate his insincerity by (a) welcoming a happiness that is ‘philosophically absurd’ for the writer of Memorabilia 2.1, because it represents the (p.154) life of pleasure that Xenophon considers inferior to that of toil, and (b) by describing his newfound self‐knowledge and the way he acquired it in ridiculous terms.52 Both these readings confront opposing horizons of expectation from within Cyropaedia and Xenophon's Socratic works, which show that Xenophon is making Croesus entirely Socratic in his conception of self‐knowledge and that the happiness he welcomes is far from absurd even for the writer of Memorabilia. Socrates adopts the definition of self‐knowledge that Croesus offers in his conversation with Euthydemus about the need to know oneself (Mem. 4.2.24–9).53 Here, Socrates begins by asking Euthydemus whether he knows the saying ‘know yourself’ on the temple at Delphi, which he does, and then whether he has tried to ‘know himself’. Euthydemus first replies that if he did not know himself he could hardly know anything else, which is the same kind of naivety that Croesus showed when he first heard the injunction: ‘I thought it was the easiest task in the world…I believed that everyone knew who he was’ (7.2.21). But Socrates then asks Euthydemus whether he thinks knowing himself just means knowing his own name, or whether it means knowing the extent of his ‘powers’ (4.2.25: ἔγνωκε τὴν αὑτου̑ δύναμιν). Euthydemus agrees that it means the latter, and Socrates then goes on to define self‐knowledge as knowing the limits and extent of one's own powers: ‘The one who does not know his own power does not know himself’. Croesus had defined his own self‐knowledge as knowing that he does not have the power to match Cyrus: μὴ ἱκανὸν ὑμι̑ν μάχεσθαι; he ‘did not know himself because I thought that I had the power to war against you’ (7.2.23). Socrates then goes on to speak of failure as the result of not knowing one's powers: ‘Those who do not know themselves, but are mistaken about their own powers, have the same relations with other men and other human affairs: they do not know what they need nor what they do nor what they use, but they are mistaken in all these things and miss the good and fall to the bad’ (4.2.27). This is the (p.155) failure that Croesus has also experienced by not knowing that he lacked of the power required to defeat Cyrus. He was defeated by him and made captive. The similarities between the two accounts of self‐knowledge raises the Page 24 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others question: if Socrates can define self‐knowledge in the same terms as Croesus in a context where his sincerity is unquestionable, how can we take a similar definition from Croesus as insincere or ludicrous? To move back to the other point, that the happiness that Cyrus gave him is ‘philosophically absurd’, Xenophon makes Cyrus himself elsewhere reveal his own high estimate of this kind of happiness by bestowing it upon his younger son, when he is apportioning his legacy on his death bed. He gives his elder son rule of the empire he has created, but he emphasizes that it entails cares and plots and wars, which is the burden he has carried himself throughout his life. This is also the burden that Croesus has borne while he was king. To his younger son in contrast, whom he loves equally with the elder, he gives the kind of happiness he gave to Croesus, which is free of such cares and plots and wars (8.7.11: ‘a less grievous happiness’, ἀλυπότερον εὐδαιμονίαν): ‘I do not see what you will lack in human happiness. Everything that delights men will be yours. But to love things that are hard to achieve, and have many cares and not to be able to have rest in your pricking urge to surpass my achievements, and to plot and be plotted against, these must be the companions of he who is king, things which, know well, provide many distractions from pleasures’ (8.7.12). Lefèvre finds evidence of the appropriateness of the life‐style for others too when he examines the context in which Croesus refers to his happiness as that of his wife and finds that it refers to others as well: ‘[Croesus] says expressly that a generally recognized ideal is at stake: “the life which others considered to be most blessed and I agreed with them”’ (7. 2. 27). The characterization of this as the happiness suitable for a wife or a younger son in any case suggests that Cyrus is treating Croesus as a person he loves, and far from degrading him, is honouring him as he would a family member. Of course Croesus already shares this ‘feminized’ life with his wife before Cyrus gives it to him. He says of his wife: ‘She shared in the good things and the soft things and all the pleasures equally with me, but of the concerns of how to get them, and of war and (p.156) battle, she had no share.’54 The younger son is different from Croesus in that he has not risen in arms against his father; but this just increases our impression of Cyrus' generosity toward the king who had rebelled against him, and would have burned alive on a pyre by a captor with a less magnanimous frame of mind. There is the allegation also that the grand language Croesus uses to describe the failure he experienced as a result of his lack of self‐knowledge is more proof of his insincerity. We have seen that grand language is alleged as a dissonant signal in the case of Callias' description of his lineage and worked there to make a fool of Callias. Here, Croesus is said to ‘rush many ideas together into the one sentence’ in the hope that Cyrus will be so beguiled by the flattery that he will not notice the obvious gaps in his reasoning, and to produce a praise that is a ‘hyperbolic echo’ of Xenophon's own insincere preface.55 The case against this can be argued from a larger selection of similar sentences in Xenophon, sentences moreover that describe the same kind of inflated pride that Croesus Page 25 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others describes in similarly inflated terms. Croesus describes himself thus: ‘now again flattered (διαθρυπτόμενοϛ) by my current wealth and by those who asked me to be their leader, by the gifts they gave me and by men who in flattery said that if I wished to rule, they would all obey me and I would be the greatest of men, puffed up (ἀναϕυσώμενοϛ) by such words, when the kings in a circle around me elected me leader for the war, I accepted the generalship, as if I were able to become greatest, not knowing myself…’ These adjectives and similar expressions as well as the extended sentence structure are found in the description of the corruption of Critias and Alcibiades through pride when they escaped the teaching of Socrates (1.2.24): ‘Critias went to Thessaly where he kept company with men who lived lawlessly rather than justly, while Alcibiades, pursued by many noble women for his beauty, spoiled (διαθρυπτόμενοϛ) by many (p.157) powerful men for his power in the city and the allies, honoured by the demos and easily the top man…swollen (ὠγκωμένω) for their lineage, exalted (ἐπηρημένω) by their wealth, puffed up (πεϕυσημένω) with their power, spoiled by many men…’ Xenophon can hardly be insincere in describing their folly because his defence of Socrates in this part of the Memorabilia depends on the actuality of the corruption he is describing. In this reading, it is agreed that the comment at the end of the conversation that Cyrus kept Croesus at his side ‘for his use or his security’ (7.2.29) points to Croesus' previous military threat, but it is also alleged that Xenophon points to his usefulness to Cyrus as ‘an opportunist without moral conscience’, which is the kind of man Cyrus likes.56 This has no power if Croesus is not in fact insincere, but in any case the intertextuality with Herodotus would suggest that Xenophon is reflecting on his ‘usefulness’ as a wise adviser.57 When Croesus proves completely useless, in his advice that Cyrus should keep his wealth in treasure chests rather than giving it away to his friends, this just reflects the pattern throughout the adaptation in which Cyrus does not need wise advice from Croesus, but receives it from him as a foil. There is enough interest in the positive interpretation that arises from the adaptation of Herodotus to give the reader a rich experience without introducing darker ironies in Xenophon's presentation of the meeting between Croesus and Cyrus. Those readings do not meet the expectations from Xenophon's own works about self‐knowledge or happiness or rhetoric, nor do they take account of his intertextualities with Herodotus. The positive impression is that Cyrus performs the function of the good leader in giving Croesus the kind of eudaimonia that he deserves and values. This extends Xenophon's requirement that the leader create eudaimonia for his own community even to his defeated opponents.

(p.158) The Meeting of the Wise and Powerful Hiero is one of Xenophon's major statements on leadership.58 Here Xenophon adapts another literary tradition for his presentation of the new style of leader, and this is the traditional representation of the meeting of the wise man with the Page 26 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others powerful ruler. Hiero is the first surviving version of the tradition but it is described in the letter allegedly written by Plato to Dionysius II, the tyrant of Sicily, during the course of Plato's attempt to reform his rule.59 Speaking of how their partnership will be spoken of in the future, [Plato] Epistle 2, 310e5–311b6, attests to the popularity of this tradition: ‘Wisdom and power were born to be partners. Men delight in conversing themselves about these things and hearing of them from others in their own associations and in literature’ (αὐτοί τε διαλεγόμενοι καὶ ἄλλων ἀκούοντεϛ ἔν τε ἰδίαιϛ συνουσίαιϛ καὶ ἐν ται̑ϛ ποιήσεσιν). His first instance of such a partnership is that Simonides with Hiero and with Pausanias the Spartan in this tradition: ‘what Simonides did and said to them’; and he goes on to mention the partnerships of Croesus and Solon as wise men with Cyrus as ruler, Agamemnon with Nestor, and Odysseus with Palamedes. These accounts might have been oral, or embedded in larger works, like Herodotus' account of the meeting of Solon and Croesus (1.29–33), but we automatically think of Xenophon's Hiero, and Hippias' Trojan Dialogue may have been an earlier stand‐alone version, in which Nestor, the traditional wise man of Homer, instructed Neoptolemus in the habits of life that he should adopt for success.60 We find the marriage of power and wisdom also in Plato's paradigm of the philosopher‐king, in his assessment by a wise judge of the happiness of his monster‐tyrant (Rep. 577b), and in the poetic idea that ‘tyrants are wise because of their partnership with the wise’ (Rep. 568a–b). Intriguingly (p.159) [Plato] indicates that in some cases these meetings led to hostility, but others could conduce to friendship, or a combination of both at different times. Xenophon's Socrates shows an awareness of the tradition when he puts together pairs of wise men and rulers in the Socratic works and makes observations about their relationships, friendly and unfriendly. He observes at the end of the passage dealing with willing obedience that the ruler is also subject to the rule that those who ignore good advice do so to their own detriment, because they will err and in erring will incur the penalty; and that if the ruler puts to death such an adviser he will kill ‘the best of his allies’ and will quickly meet his end (Mem. 3.9.12–13). This seems to be a fitting epitaph for Hiero as he does not follow the advice of Simonides as wise adviser in Hiero. Xenophon also uses the partnerships of the wise and the powerful Daedalus and Minos as well as Palamedes and Odysseus to demonstrate to Euthydemus that even wisdom was not the unqualified ‘good thing’ that he thought it was, since Minos' possessive desire for Daedalus' wisdom deprived him of his freedom and his land: he lost his son in trying to escape and lost his liberty among the barbarians. Palamedes and Odysseus figure in [Plato]'s tradition too. Euthydemus confirms these stories as traditional when he says ‘it is certainly said’ (however much Socrates has adapted it for the purpose) that ‘all men hymn’ how the powerful Odysseus killed Palamedes out of envy of his wisdom (Mem. 4.2.33; cf. Ap. 26), and that this story is also ‘told’. The final story he hears of wisdom and power is about those who fled to the Persian king and were enslaved for their wisdom. Page 27 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others We have no stand‐alone version to use in the assessment of Xenophon's innovations in this tradition, but Herodotus' account of the meeting of Solon and Croesus provides a suitable point of departure. Both their meetings address the question whether the ruler has more eudaimonia or happiness than the nonruler. Xenophon's Hiero makes this plain in the opening sentences when Simonides directly asks Hiero to answer this question. Herodotus reveals it indirectly when he has Croesus expect to be named as the happiest of men because of his wealth, which the ruler has in greater abundance than the non‐ ruler, but Solon sets against his expectation his stories of non‐rulers, Tellus of Athens and Cleobis and Biton of Argos, men of (p.160) no apparent wealth, one who lived long and two who died young, who yet achieved fine and noble deaths. Croesus highlights this comparison with private men when he responds: ‘Is our eudaimonia tossed away to nothing, that you put us not worth the price even of non‐ruling individuals?’ (1.32). There is also a general similarity between Herodotus and Xenophon in the oblique approach that the wise man takes to the instruction of the ruler. Solon is oblique in the customary way of Herodotus' wise advisers when he tells stories and waits for Croesus to take their point; when Croesus has failed twice to take the point, Solon lectures him directly, the king dismisses him in anger, still failing to take the point. His obliqueness could reflect the idea that there is a threat to the wise man from the ruler, as reflected in Plato's advice that the wise should use veiled language if they wished to achieve reform, just as he did with Dionysius.61 Xenophon's own reports in his Memorabilia above indicate that there were other risks for the wise man, such as being kept at the ruler's court by force. Xenophon's Simonides is also oblique, but not in the way of Herodotus' wise adviser, as we shall see. The structure of the conversations is another difference. Herodotus presents a conversation that consists of a series of three brief questions about happiness from the king, three much longer answers from the wise man, and some angry reactions from the king. Xenophon produces a dialogue that follows the structure of some of the Socratic conversations from Memorabilia. Xenophon's Hiero in fact makes innovations in the content of the instruction, the approach of the wise man, the structure of their dialogue, and the characters of the ruler and the wise man. In content he gives the discussion of the happiness of ruler and non‐ruler a dose of his leadership theory,62 producing a dialogue in two halves that reflect Ischomachus' contrast in Oeconomicus 22.12 of rule over unwilling subjects as a nightmare, and rule over willing subjects as a paradise, and also reflects the Xenophontic principle that the ruler who wishes to have more happiness than his subjects will not achieve it, but the one who gives such happiness to his followers will achieve (p.161) his own greater happiness in the process. Xenophon makes his ruler aware of the miseries of coercive rule, crediting him with a degree of wisdom that Croesus does not possess, in order to have him confirm from the ruler's own experience that rule over unwilling subjects is indeed a nightmare. Hiero refutes Simonides' assertion of the greater Page 28 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others happiness of rulers throughout the first half of the dialogue in a description of the miseries of rule over unwilling subjects (1–7). He argues that the ruler has less of the good things of life such as food and drink and sex, peace and security, freedom and friendship, trust and honour, praise and sympathy, because of the coercive nature of his rule over unwilling subjects and his lack of genuine friendship or love, for instance in his relations with his boyfriends, who give him no sensual pleasure because they are obliged to submit to him rather than loving him truly, and in the praise he hears, which gives him no pleasure because none of his citizens is free to criticize him to his face and the best that can be hoped for is flattery. In conclusion he says he cannot endure his current unhappiness as ruler, but cannot escape it either because he could never make up for the wrong he has done his people with his coercive government; his only way out is to hang himself (7.13). According to the Xenophontic principle, in reaching this conclusion, Hiero has revealed that he does not have the leader's knowledge of how to achieve happiness for himself or for his community. In the second half, the wise man accepts that his lack of friendship is the cause of his unhappiness (8.1–2) and shows him how to remedy his condition by winning love and ruling over willing subjects. He gives positive instruction about how rulers can win followers and this involves service to the common good and the transference of his pleasures from himself to his citizens. He changes Hiero from a tyrant, who serves his own interests and rules unwilling subjects, to a king, who serves the common good and rules them willingly, as Xenophon defines the tyrant and the king at Mem. 4.6.12.63 (p.162) Just as Xenophon transforms the basic instruction of the tradition to reflect his own beliefs about leadership, he also transforms the structure as a vehicle for it. The binary structure reflects the contrast between willing and unwilling obedience, but also the processes of instruction he credits to Socrates in Memorabilia. The division reflects the process that we find in Xenophon's Socrates' instruction of Euthydemus in Memorabilia 4.2, where in the first movement Socrates drove Euthydemus to despair about his ignorance of even the basic definitions involved in leadership (ἀθύμωϛ ἔχειν 4.2.23, πάνυ ἀθύμωϛ ἔχειν: 4.2.39), and in the second movement gave him plain instruction in the art (4.2.40). Simonides' questioning drives Hiero to despair in the same way in the first half, and he then gave the plain instruction that Socrates gave in the second. The movement is also like Socrates' attempts to ‘cure the dilemmas of ignorance’ of his friends in conversation (καὶ μὴν τὰϛ ἀπορίαϛ γε τω̑ν ϕίλων τὰϛ μὲν δι᾽ ἄγνοιαν ἐπειρα̑το γνώμῃ ἀκει̑σθαι 2.7.1), where Socrates discovers their miseries, and then remedies them (Mem. 2.8–10). We recognize the curing of the distresses of others as the characteristic also of Cyrus in Cyropaedia (Cyr. 8.2.22). And just as Socrates secures the success of these friends by putting them into partnerships with others (2.8–10), Simonides puts Hiero into friendship with his followers and gives him the same guarantee of success.64 Simonides uses the oblique approach to his instruction that we see in Herodotus, Page 29 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others perhaps to avoid offending Hiero, but more obviously in order to serve the instructional processes of Socrates, which require the oblique approach of asking questions to which there seem to be obvious answers. Simonides takes the view that the ruler is happy in order to provoke the ruler to describe his despair and make him receptive to instruction, but this turns out to be a complex irony rather than a simple one since the ruler can be happy if he adopts Xenophon's leadership theory, but not otherwise. Hiero thinks Simonides is adopting the view of the ‘masses’ on the happiness of tyranny in looking to appearances and not into the soul, where happiness resides (2.3–5), but Simonides proves the ruler happier in his soul as well when he conducts his reform. Simonides may have appeared a (p.163) revolutionary wise man in the tradition of the meeting when he adopts Xenophon's general view of the potential of leadership for happiness. When we look more closely at the content of the dialogue, we see Xenophon adapting as a vehicle for his views on leadership not just the form overall, but the specific topoi that attached themselves to the discourse about tyranny, such as are found in Herodotus' constitutional debate and in Plato's Republic.65 One innovation Xenophon makes is that other discourse presents these topoi as irremediable problems for the ruler, but Xenophon moves them in the direction of reform with his leadership theory. Another is that though other rulers do not perceive these problems or give voice to them, Hiero is fully aware of them, and Xenophon makes him speak most effectively in his own voice. Xenophon's decision to create an enlightened ruler to describe the nightmare of oppressive rule is a novelty within his own theory of leadership as well as within the literary tradition about the wise and powerful as we have it. [Plato] suggested that the rulers spoke when they appeared in their meetings with the wise, but if Herodotus' meeting of Croesus and Solon is any measure, their role could be limited. The tyrant does not speak at all in Herodotus' constitutional debate unless we take Darius to be one (3.80–2).66 In Republic, Plato merely reported the findings of a wise judge who entered the heart of the tyrant to discover his unhappiness (Rep. 577b). Herodotus' Xerxes is capable of ‘looking to the end’ and feeling sad about the possible destruction of his great forces, but his sadness is about the general human condition and not about rule. Isocrates in To Nicocles 4–5 says it is the misery of unreformed tyrants that provokes his instruction in how to rule, and he addresses the topoi of tyranny in his advice to the new ruler of Cyprus, and in the advice to his subjects that he puts into the mouth of Nicocles. Yet as in the other cases, there is no unreformed ruler to describe his own (p.164) suffering. In contrast, Hiero addresses the topoi, in a language that makes his suffering transparent. The Tyrant's Elimination of Good Men

In Hiero's denunciation of tyranny, he mentions his ability to recognize the brave, the wise, and the just but also his need to fear them rather than ‘admire’ them, ‘the brave in case they commit some action for the sake of freedom, the Page 30 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others wise lest the contrive some scheme, the just in case the masses wish to be ruled by them’ (5.1–2). He goes on to say that if he eliminates them through his fear of them, he is left with those who do not posses these qualities but are slavish, unjust, and uncontrolled and prefer the liberty they have under a regime that is not free. This is a topos of the discourse on tyranny. The tyrant's animosity towards men of virtue is found in Herodotus' constitutional debate, where Otanes argues that the tyrant envies the best men while they are alive, rejoices in the worst, and listens gladly to slander; this is because of his nature…πέϕυκε (3.80.4); and also in Plato's account of how the tyrant is compelled to eliminate the best men and is left with the worst (Rep. 566d–568a). These best men are defined as those who have ‘free thoughts’ and will not let him rule them (567a), and they include the brave, the high‐minded, the wise, and the rich—who might share a desire for freedom. His tyrant is ‘envious, friendless, untrusting, unjust, unholy’ (Rep. 580a), and his lack of friendship is equated with a lack of freedom (Rep. 576a: ‘the tyrannical nature is always untasting of freedom and true friendship’).67 This other discourse suggests that Hiero's fear is also that such men will challenge his rule and introduce a free regime, and his reference to freedom advertises that. Xenophon has him offer an animal image of such men in the metaphor of the horses of high spirit, who are utterly desirable for warfare, but a source of possible damage to those who use them (Hiero 6.14–16: ‘sources of difficulty but also of benefit…that (p.165) damage those who possess them, but also damage those who lose them’). This brings out his basic problem in Xenophontic terms: that Hiero does not know how to ‘use’ others for his own or their good. His ignorance denies him the status of the kaloskagathos who did know how to use his household and his polis correctly (Mem. 1.2.48 etc.). The metaphor of the horses recalls the instruction in Oeconomicus 1.8, where horses are not wealth unless you know how to use them: ‘If one bought a horse and did not know how to use it, but was hurt in falling from it, is the horse then not wealth?’ Hiero does not know how to use such men. Hiero then takes the commonplace towards reform. Simonides teaches him to use such men correctly by winning their friendship, and then develop in them the very qualities of bravery and justice that he once feared by setting up competitions ‘in well‐armedness, well‐orderedness, in horse skills and courage in warfare and justice in contractual dealings’ (9.6–10). Their bravery and justice will no longer threaten him when he has secured their friendship. Simonides goes on to suggest competitions also in agricultural production and in generally discovering measures for the economic improvement of the polis (9.9–10). Xenophon's own measures for economic improvement in the Poroi suggest that this improvement is one of the areas in which the wise will contribute under a new regime. Simonides' recommendation that his rewards for good performance will ‘urge people to make it their business to look for some good’ encourages wisdom too: τὸ σκοπει̑ν τι ἀγαθόν. And trying to find what is ‘useful’ (9.10) in

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others philosophic discourse means the pursuit of virtue and in this context certainly refers to the good of the community. The problem of how to incorporate men of talent into his administration who would otherwise challenge him for rule is found in Xenophon's other images of good rule. Cyrus faces the same problem, and Xenophon makes him explicitly reject the idea of disarming them or keeping them away from his person. He knows without the advice of a Simonides that he must befriend them in the way Hiero is told to, and use them correctly for the benefit of his administration (Cyrop. 8.1.47–8.2). (p.166) The Paradox of Freedom

One of the features of Hiero's denunciation of tyranny is his revelation that the ruler is compelled to action by his fears for his security and is therefore not free; it is the non‐ruler in his view who is free to do as he pleases. His references to the ‘necessity’ that drives him are frequent—1.29; 1.37, 2.8, 4.9 × 2, 4.10, 4.11 × 3, 5.3 × 3, 6.5, 6.15, 8.9 × 2, 9.2 × 2, 9.3, 9.4—as are his references to what he ‘must’ do δει̑ (2.13, 8.9) and his verbal adjectives of obligation: 2.11, 8.9 × 5, 8.10, 9.1, 9.3 × 2. Plato's discourse on tyranny made a feature of the same paradox: that the tyrant who appeared to be most free was in fact most enslaved to his compulsive desires: Republic 579d: ὁ τω̑ι ὄντι τύραννοϛ τω̑ι ὄντι δου̑λοϛ. As an example of this lack of freedom, Plato mentions the tyrant's lack of freedom to go abroad: ‘he is unable to go abroad ever or to see what other free men desire to see, but withdraws into his house like a woman, envying the citizens, if any of them goes abroad and sees some good thing’ (Plato, Rep. 579b–c). Hiero 1.11–13 adapts this image as a commonplace of the discourse on tyranny. Hiero says that the ruler fears assassination or usurpation if he leaves home to see such sights, but he has no pleasure of viewing at home either, because the sights that do come to him at home are poor affairs, and expensive; he is a captive audience. The expansion of the commonplace prepares for Simonides' reform, where Hiero will be free to travel wherever he likes, but will not need to, since his own court and home will be itself a place of constant ‘festival’ of those who wish to show him something clever or good or fine, and he includes among these the very Xenophontic and rather unexpected ‘spectacle’ of people showing him willing obedience (11.9–10).68 The general problem of his lack of freedom will be solved when he rids himself of the fear for his life by winning the love of his followers. In the final vision, he is defended and championed by them as a result of their own great fear that he might be damaged (p.167) or assassinated: ‘you would not experience fear but would give cause to others to fear in case you should suffer some harm’ (11.11). The Problem of Praise and Blame

The tyrant is then a captive to his fears, which makes him unfree, but the citizens, though they may be free of fear when they travel, are not free in their relations with the ruler, and that proves to be a paradoxical source of Page 32 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others unhappiness to the ruler, which leads to the conclusion that he will not be happy until he liberates them. Xenophon demonstrates this in his adaptation of the tyrant's commonplace dissatisfaction with praise and blame. Just as Otanes' tyrant in Herodotus' Constitutional Debate is never satisfied with the praise he hears because it is either too little or sounds like flattery (3.80.5), Hiero also says that he is never satisfied with the praise he hears or the lack of criticism either, but for a different reason: he diagnoses this as the product of his followers' lack of freedom to speak out because of their fear of him (1.14–15). Simonides then draws out the significance of this diagnosis: ‘praise from those who are most free (ἐλευθερωτάτων) is the sweetest’, he says; if Hiero wants to hear sincere praise (or honest criticism) he must give them freedom to speak their minds. This is achieved when Simonides envisages that he will hear positive ‘hymns’ of praise to his virtue when he wins the victory over other rulers in securing eudaimonia for his polis (11.8). He will become then the truly honoured man he envied (7.9–10), who benefits his people and receives their genuine praise in return. The freedom enjoyed by followers even to mock the ruler is found in the paradigm of Cyrus at Cyropaedia 6.1.1–6, where he joins in the easy joking with his men in contrast to the ceremony of his uncle Cyaxares and the silent pomp that attends his appearance. The Bodyguard

The bodyguard is conceived as a symbol of oppression in discourse on tyranny and Plato acknowledges the commonplace in which the tyrant acquires the bodyguard through deception of his followers (p.168) (Rep. 567d).69 Xenophon's Hiero has a bodyguard but is already aware of the problems that it raises for him; it is essential for his security, but it is unpopular and expensive, and the bodyguard cannot even be trusted not to assassinate him (Hiero 2.8, 6.10–11). Simonides solves the dilemma. He says that the ruler must retain the bodyguard to control the insolent (10.1–3), which represents Xenophon's general endorsement of the rule of fear for those who are unlikely to give the proper response to good government (see Proxenus, An. 2.6); but he would have the bodyguard serve the community for their benefit, recommending that Hiero make them responsible for the citizens' security, by protecting their lands and houses and fighting for them in their wars. This will solve the expense involved too, since the citizens will then gladly pay for the bodyguard to keep them safe as they pay at present for private guards of their households (10.2–8). As in other topoi, Xenophon develops this one in the direction of reform and offers suggestions for the use of mercenaries that are quite unique. The Inability to Escape the Dilemma

Among the minor topoi addressed in Hiero is the inability of the oppressive tyrant to escape from his condition. Herodotus addresses this topos in the career of Maeandrius, who did not think it just to rule equals and decided to liberate his people on condition that they granted him certain privileges: when prominent citizens held him accountable for his actions as tyrant, he decided to continue to Page 33 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others rule them by force rather than be condemned for his crimes, and so he imprisoned and executed them (3.142–3). Hiero 7.10–12 worsens Hiero's nightmare by cutting off both escape routes: Hiero cannot abide the unhappiness that arises from his poor relations with his people, but he knows already, without the experience of Maeandrius, that he can never settle his account with them. Herodotus' idea that the tyrant who tries to resign will be put on trial for his crimes is presented in a triple series of crimes that can never be cancelled out: (p.169) ‘How would a tyrant ever find a sufficiency, of money paid back for what he took away, of chains put on himself in recompense for chains put on others, or deaths given in return for those that he inflicted?’ The only grim ‘profit’ that Hiero sees in his dilemma is to hang himself. Xenophon's wise man of course provides the way out of this dilemma. The Tyrant's Wealth

Xenophon naturally addresses the commonplace idea that the ruler's happiness came from wealth. The Herodotean Croesus showed Solon his treasure chests (τοὺϛ θησαυροὺϛ) as a sign of his eudaimonia (1.30.1), but that happiness was proven illusory. Xenophon's Hiero is wiser than Croesus in knowing already that wealth is not happiness (2.1–2), and he most wisely reflects the Socratic view that a man's greatest possession is found in his friends (Memorabilia (2.4–10), since he considers his lack of friendship to be the entire cause of his misery. He specifically endorses the Socratic concept that wealth can be measured only in relation to need and that by this measure the tyrant is the poorest of men: the tyrant needs more than the ordinary citizen to ensure his personal security and this can create tyrants so impoverished that they must turn to crime (4.8–10). Those who can have what they want in justice should not be considered poor, he says; but those who are compelled through need to live contriving evil, how would one not think these in justice wretched and poor? Tyrants are compelled to sack shrines and men in great number in order to maintain an army or die. This poverty that turns the tyrant into a criminal is another Socratic commonplace.70 By this same measure, Critobulus comes to recognize that he is also poor (p.170) compared to Socrates because he cannot make a surplus from his great wealth (Oeconomicus 2.1–10). Simonides remedies Hiero's problems with wealth in his reform when he encourages him to use it to increase his polis but more specifically when he refers to the friends that Hiero will acquire as his living treasure chests as a result of his enlightened governance (11.13: θησαυροὺϛ). This is another topos. Xenophon makes this same substitution of friends for material wealth in his deconstruction of Herodotus in Cyropaedia 8.2.15–23, where Cyrus shows Croesus the greater advantages of friends as ‘treasure chests’ over the possession of more material wealth (see pp. 322–5). Xenophon creates another topos to diminish the importance of personal wealth when he has Simonides endorse chariot‐racing as ‘considered to be the finest kind of pursuit’, but find good governance to be a pursuit that is even finer (11.5–7). Xenophon uses this same topos of Agesilaus, who encouraged his sister Page 34 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others to race chariots in order to show that victory was proof of material wealth alone and not of virtue (Agesilaus 9.6–7). Hiero had already argued that defeat in chariot‐racing brings more disgrace to a ruler than victory brings honour (4.6– 8): Agesilaus also makes this point; and then like Simonides he endorses the greater victory of gaining friends of excellence, winning the victory in benefiting his homeland and his comrades and taking vengeance on their enemies, and becoming a champion in the finest and most magnificent competition of governance, which will secure him fame in life and in death.

The Subversive Reading of Hiero Hiero then represents Xenophon's adaptation to Socratic wisdom of earlier meetings between wise men and rulers and the earlier discourse on tyranny.71 It reflects the views on leadership that we have come to expect from Xenophon, but with a new focus on the happiness of the leader in his relations with his followers. For ancient (p.171) audiences who had more access to examples of the tradition that are now lost, his adaptation would have been a richer experience, and even for us without such knowledge the comparison of Hiero with Herodotus underlines the novelties of Xenophon's transformation in adapting the tradition to his leadership theory. There seems no reason to suspect a hidden message. There is the belief that Xenophon was covertly addressing Simonides' reform of Hiero to contemporary tyrants, such as the Dionysii of Syracuse,72 offering Hiero to them as an extended ‘covert allusion’ that avoided the offence of a direct address and reform; but this does not challenge the interpretation of the instruction it would offer them about the need for willing obedience. Strauss has found hidden messages in the work however, and because of his influence, it is as well to run over the arguments that he offers.73 The Ironic Implications of Fear of the Wise

Strauss produced a commentary on and translation of Hiero that exploited the lack of stated motivation for the characters and the openness of the dialogue form to read Hiero's fear of the wise in a way that casts doubt on the sincerity of Hiero's account of the miseries of tyranny and also on Simonides' reform (1948/2000, pp. 35–66, particularly 41–5). The argument is set in train by reading Hiero's fear of the contrivances of the wise as a reason for him to advance a denunciation of tyranny that is insincere (5.1–2): Tyrants recognize the brave and wise and just no less than non‐tyrants do. But these, instead of admiring, they fear, the brave lest they commit some deed of daring for the sake of freedom, the wise lest they contrive something, the just, lest the mass desire to be championed by them. (5.1– 2). (p.172) Strauss at first equivocates but eventually reads Hiero's statement about the wise (μή τι μηχανήσωνται) as an indication of his fear that Simonides is intent on securing the tyranny for himself. It is for this reason that Hiero Page 35 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others offers an insincere argument about the unhappiness of tyranny: in order to dissuade Simonides from taking it. Strauss concludes that Hiero is relieved of this fear only when Simonides fails to encourage him in his final admission in the first part of the dialogue that he might as well hang himself (7.13). This is the kind of game‐playing that has been read into the conversation between Xenophon's Croesus above in his conversation with Cyrus in Cyropaedia. The argument is that: ‘by choosing a conversational setting in which the strongest possible indictment of tyranny becomes necessary, he intimates the limited validity of that indictment’. There are several objections to this reading apart from the way in which it invalidates all the other places in which Xenophon deplores rule over unwilling subjects as a nightmare. The first is rather sophistic: that if this passage occurs as part of Hiero's insincere denunciation of tyranny, his fear of the wise could be part of the deception. More seriously, the statement does not indicate that the wise pursue tyranny, but that they pursue freedom, in the same way as the brave and just do. This is in conformity with what Plato says of men like these in his account of unreformed tyranny (above). Xenophon's sentence structure confirms this reading. The tyrant fears that the brave will act ‘for the sake of freedom’; he fears that the just will be ‘champions of the masses’, which implies their freedom: μὴ ἐπιθυμήση τὸ πλη̑θοϛ ὑπ᾽ αὐτω̑ν προστατει̑σθαι. It would follow that the wise must contrive freedom as well even though their aim goes unstated,74 even if the next sentence did not confirm (as it does) that the issue is freedom: after his elimination of the brave and wise and (p.173) just, it says the tyrant will be left the ‘unjust and uncontrolled and slavish’, the unjust being trusted by him because freedom threatens their licence as much as it threatens the tyrant's, the uncontrolled because they like the licence available under tyranny, which they would not enjoy in a free state, and the slavish because they are not designed for freedom. The three types of virtuous men in 5.1 indeed constitute a sort of ‘liberation movement’. The brave begin the movement against the tyrant in armed struggle or assassination. The wise devise ideal government (as Simonides will do for Hiero: 9–11) and the just implement it for the masses. Hiero's use of artistic language has been taken as further proof of his insincerity. Higgins (1977), 62 says that ‘Men afraid do not use rhetorical questions’, in reference to Hiero 6.4–5, where Xenophon has Hiero say: ‘To fear a crowd, to fear isolation, to fear a lack of guards, to fear the guard themselves, not to be willing to have unarmed men around one nor to gaze upon those who have been armed in pleasure, how is this not a harrowing condition?’ This view of rhetorical language in Xenophon is a regular feature of darker readings, but is not valid.75 The ‘contrivances’ of the wise μή τι μηχανήσωνται also sounded sinister to Strauss (1948/2000), 41 and Higgins (1977), 69, who interpreted the ‘contrivances’ of Lycurgus to enforce obedience to his laws in this way as well Page 36 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (RL 8.5). But the horizon of expectation Xenophon provides for the word is more neutral than this: Socrates has friends ‘contrive’ good for each other in service to each other (Mem. 2.6.35), Simonides describes his own suggestions for improvements in agriculture as ‘contrivances’ (μεμηχανημένοϛ 11.4), Lycurgus ‘contrives’ ways to secure obedience to his laws so that the Spartans may have their eudaimonia (8.5), just as he ‘contrives’ improvements in the army and useful measures for fighting (RL 11.1 and 13.8). In the historical context of great achievements, Hellenica 5.1.4 makes ‘contrivances’ (μηχανήματα) one of the admirable categories of achievement even though he considers leadership superior. Herodotus comments that Cyrus also ‘contrives many benefits’ for his people (3.89). Where contrivances are sinister, (p.174) Xenophon says so: Simonides thus qualifies those contrivances that are bad: Hiero 4.10: κακόν τι καὶ αἰσχρὸν μηχανώμενοι ζη̑ν ‘obliged to make a living by contriving something evil and shameful’. There is the wider issue in any case of whether Hiero's fear of the wise extends to wise men outside his polis such as Simonides. He is speaking of the internal situation when he describes his fear of the wise. Simonides is a travelling poet and most likely in temporary residence at Hiero's court, perhaps putting on his choral performances in Syracuse. The Vicious Views of the Wise

Strauss (1948/2000), 67–79 also found Simonides' teaching imperfect. He suggested that the wise man offers a deliberately qualified vision of the potential happiness of one‐man rule, perhaps to show that it is impossible, and he finds evidence for this in Simonides' silence about the rule of law and freedom for the citizens. Such qualification would make for a very complicated adaptation of the regular role that the wise man played in the tradition, but it also needs to take more account of the role that freedom plays in the friendship and willing obedience that Simonides commends to Hiero. Xenophon equates freedom with willing obedience in Agesilaus 1.22 and Cyropaedia 8.6.13, for instance, as well as in the first chapter of Hiero, where characters contrast the willing obedience that is given by free people with the unwilling obedience given by slaves. Xenophon's treatment of the topos of the praise and blame that the ruler hears shows that Simonides draws from the dilemma the lesson that his citizens must be free if they are to please him with their praise or their blame (1.14–15), and there are other instances of how the citizens' lack of freedom deprives Hiero of happiness in his lack of genuine pleasure in his sexual relationships (1.26–38: he coerces the boys against their will, whereas it is only their willing friendship that makes the relationships pleasant) and in the honour he receives (7.5–7: people are forced to honour him out of fear against their will, whereas he wants the honour that free men give). He also sees the friendship he desires as a relationship between equals who serve each other freely and without compulsion in private life (3.1–2). The (p.175) connection between freedom and friendship is taken for granted also in Plato, Republic 576a: ἐλευθερίαϛ τε καὶ ϕιλίαϛ Page 37 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others ἀληθου̑ϛ ἠ τυραννικὴ ϕύσιϛ ἀεὶ ἄγευστοϛ (‘the tyrannical nature is ever untasting of freedom and true friendship’). The question is also raised about Simonides' silence on the rule of law, since Xenophon does see rule in accordance with the law as one of the distinctions between kingship and tyranny, the other being the acquisition of willing obedience (Mem. 4.6.12). But Simonides does refer to ‘justice in contractual dealings’ in his vision of reform and that seems to take the rule of law for granted. Hiero himself thinks the rule of law is a good thing when he envies the security it gives citizens in his reference to the law against adultery, which protects the friendship of husband and wife within the community, and to the laws that punish the killing of other citizens, but praise and reward the killers of tyrants (3–4). He also sees that if he abdicates he should recompense those he has robbed and imprisoned and murdered (7.12). But there is the stronger point that if Simonides' vision is in accord with Aristotle's vision of the pambasileia mentioned in the first chapter,76 the man whose excellence is such that others give him willing obedience and do not think to fetter his excellence with law, then Simonides has no need to speak to Hiero of law. There will be laws of contract, adultery, and murder in Hiero's community, but his governance, like that of the pambasileia, will be unconstrained by anything other than the dynamics of relations between leaders and followers based on their willing obedience, which guarantee their welfare because willing obedience is not won through oppression. Nor does it seem that Simonides produces a limited kind of virtue in his citizens as charged. He commends the regular enhancement of the moral qualities of his community that Xenophon requires of the leader when he encourages competitions in ‘valour in warfare’ and ‘justice in commercial dealings’ (9.6), to improve these qualities. Xenophon presents other rulers improving their followers in this way, including Agesilaus (Hell. 4.2.5), Cyrus (Cyr. 2.3 passim), and Lycurgus as father of the Spartan constitution (RL 4). There is no need to defend Simonides against that charge of Strauss (1948/2000), (p.176) 71 that he is encouraging Hiero to exploit his citizens when he encourages him to enrich his friends, increase the polis, consider his land his household, his citizens his comrades, his friends his children, and his children his soul (11.14). The leader's enrichment of friends and the increase of the polis is the standard measure of success in Xenophon's leadership theory. To treat his land as his own household brings to bear the lesson of Oeconomicus that the aim of successful household management is to increase its worth and share its success rather than steal its goods. Socrates confirms this aim in comparing a beloved boy to a property in Symp. 8.25: ‘The one who is attracted by beauty seems to me like one who just rents a property. He does not look to see that it improves its worth, but that he himself harvest the fruits in greatest abundance. But the one who seeks friendship seems more like the one who owns his property. Certainly he brings in from any quarter what he can to make the thing that is loved worth more.’ Page 38 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others Xenophon's general expectation that fathers benefit their children also confirms Simonides' expectation that Hiero will improve his friends rather than degrading them when he treats them as his children.77 There are no grounds either for thinking that Simonides wants Hiero to treat his comrades as slaves; Hiero indeed wants to escape this unnatural compulsion (5.1–2, 6.5). His injunction that Hiero treat his children as his ‘life’ means that he will preserve and protect them, since his desire to protect his life has been constant throughout the dialogue. Strauss nullifies Simonides' final vision of happiness without envy (‘For in your happiness you will not be envied’) as an ironic paradox (84): ‘for the irony of Simonides' last sentence consists, above all, in this: that if per impossibile the perfect ruler would escape from envy, his very escape from envy would expose him to envy; by ceasing to be envied by the multitude, he would begin to be envied by the wise…Simonides could become dangerous to Hiero only if he followed his advice’ (86). The complications involved in this tour de force are foreign to (p.177) the way Xenophon thinks, as well as to the central thesis of his Hiero.78 Hiero's silence at the end of the dialogue has been interpreted as a signal that he has no intention to follow Simonides' advice (Kojève, in Strauss (1948/2000), p. 144), but that confronts opposing expectations arising from many of Xenophon's Socratic dialogues, which regularly end in such silence from interlocutors, but where few would say that Xenophon is encouraging us to believe that his advice was not taken.79 Is it possible that Hiero assumes that he can make his way into the hearts of his citizen by pretending to be one who promotes their eudaimonia? We have seen the same argument applied to Cyrus in Cyropaedia pp. 45–7. Aristotle recognized this possibility in his account of the two faces of tyranny (Pol. 1313a34–1315b10), but there is nothing in Hiero that suggests he will pursue that course. We might also import Socrates' comment at Memorabilia 3.9.12–13—that the tyrant who ignores the advice of the wise man will pay the penalty for his ignorance. Xenophon's Hiero, in its overall design and detailed arguments, advances his theory of leadership by adapting the programme of the meeting of the wise man and the ruler. [Plato] suggests that the meeting of the wise man and the tyrant was familiar to most audiences, so that those who brought this knowledge to Hiero would have their expectations met and overturned. The new vision of the ruler and his happiness and the new process of instruction of the wise man, as well as the adaptations of the commonplaces of the discourse of tyranny to this vision and process, would be striking innovations. A new energy would be brought to the tradition by the intertextuality, just as the tradition would enrich the novelty of his new ideas. It would be perverse if in this work Xenophon set out to overturn the endorsement of willing over unwilling obedience that is a cliché of all his other works.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (p.178) Conclusion Xenophon has Socrates engage in re‐interpretations of the poets in the Socratic works in order to advance his views about leadership and friendship and other matters. He also invites readers to participate in a wide variety of intertextual readings in his own narrative works by engaging with specific passages from a range of his predecessors in poetry and prose and with the content and structure of their traditions. We can recognize his engagement with Homer and with Herodotus and with the tradition of the meeting of the wise man and the ruler. There may be other interactions that we are missing because of the loss of so much of the literature that went before him or a failure of our perception. Xenophon's placement of his narratives within those traditions may give status to his works, but the main effect is to bring an energy and enrichment to them through the reader's recall of similarity and difference, and to accentuate his advances over those predecessors, particularly in his thought about leadership. Notes:

(1) Allen (2000), 1: ‘the act of reading, theorists claim, plunges us into a network of inter‐textual relations. To interpret a text, to discover its meaning is to trace those relations.’ (2) The most important study is Richardson (1975) which describes Homeric literary criticism in Xenophon's time. See also Lamberton (1986), 10–43; Ford (2002), 72–89, who notes ὑπονοία as a technical term; Struck (2004); Innes (2003) and Russell (2003). (3) Ford (2002), 72–89 notes ὑπονοία as a technical term (74). Nünlist (2009), 164 n. 21 reviews terms used for readers' engagement with texts, noting the allegorists' hyponoia. (4) See Tuplin (2003), 119–20. (5) The commentaries on Homer ad loc. cit. describe what Homer is achieving, but my focus is on Xenophon's interpretation, which is usually very different. See Kirk et al. (1985–93); Heubeck et al. (1988–9). (6) Iliad 4.231–49 has a version of this same division of audience in which Agamemnon gives different addresses to those who are eager among the Argives against those who are slacking, exhorting the first and chastising the second. (7) Ford (1999), 231–56 esp. 237–9 on the incorporation of Homer into democratic culture gave an interpretation of this scene: ‘Socrates declares himself opposed equally to elite and democratic interference in the Assembly’ in this interpretation of Homer. ‘All in all, this teacher of the young shows himself in favour of an orderly but still democratic Assembly; there is nothing in this to corrupt the children of an Athens where Assemblies were policed by Scythian archers…’: p. 239. This restricts the comment to the Assembly, but Xenophon's Page 40 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others Socrates refers to a contribution to army, city, and demos in the interpretation in question and elsewhere defines the good citizen as making a contribution to managing money, fighting battles, and going on embassies as well as the one who stops stasis and produces homonoia (Mem. 4.6.14). The passage was capable of other less democratic interpretations. Eustathius (van der Valk (1971), vol. 1, p. 308) sees a message about the ‘best constitution’ in the lines that Xenophon omits. In these Odysseus says that the demos should obey because they cannot all be kings. Eustathius sees the condition where everyone is king there is democracy, many‐headed rule is oligarchy, but what is best is god‐ endorsed kingship (he protects the Poet from condemning democracy and aristocracy outright, by arguing that it is presented merely as inferior to kingship). He comments on the beating of the commoners as if there could be no debate about its undemocratic spirit: ‘whence the ancients say: how could Odysseus be democharistes in the tragedians when he treats the demos so unworthily here (Iliad 2.201, lines 23–5)?’ (8) Dorion (2000), 119–20 notes the purpose for which Xenophon's Socrates omits lines from this passage, against Strauss (1992), 98 and O'Connor (1994), 158. I look forward to Dorion's comments on the other passages in the subsequent volumes of this commentary on Memorabilia. (9) Charmides' fear of the mockery of the demos is misplaced as Socrates goes on to indicate. The word used for his fear is αἰσχύνεσθαι, and individuals even in Homer modify their conduct out of concern for criticisms whose validity they do not accept: Cairns (1993), 79. (10) See Taplin (1990) for the range of receptions of the image of Agamemnon. Ford (2002), 203–5 comments on the strained nature of this interpretation, on Xenophon's more playful representation of Homer as teacher in Symposium 4.5– 9, with its references to Iliad 23.323, 334, 335–7 and on Plato Ion 541b–c who discusses whether poets can teach generalship. On the interest shown in Homeric epithets in the Homeric scholia: Nünlist (2009), 301, 305. (11) In van der Valk (1971), Eustathius (van der Valk (1971), p. 324) explores the phrase ‘shepherd of the people’ as an endorsement of the need for obedience that Thersites does not show. Eustathius (p. 631) argues that a mighty spearman is merely a brave one. (12) Schofield (1986), 11 = (2001), 227–8, quotes Nestor's view that Agamemnon as king should take counsel from others, bring about good things for others, and that all things depend on him (9.96–102, with a cf. to 2.24–6, which describes his care of the laos). (13) Reinhardt (1996), 75–6 notes Homer's own adaptation of folklore, and how he makes the Sirens tempting for a heroic reason rather than the folkloric one: ‘The sirens entice Odysseus with the prize of epic heroism’ in the line they sing. Page 41 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (14) Cicero De finibus 5.18 found in Odysseus' meeting with the Sirens an allegory of the greatness of the pleasures of acquiring knowledge, because in Homer they claim to know all things. Eustathius Vol. 1, p. 3ff. sees an allegory too of their knowledge as well as the pleasure they give in their song. (15) See Worman (2009), 29f. on the Homeric Odysseus as the ‘obvious prototype for the classical orator’ in spite of his presentation in tragedy as the negative version of the orator; also 31–6. Plato Phaedrus 262b6ff. mentions the rhetoric of Odysseus and Nestor. (16) Odysseus' oratory was a subject for other allegorical meanings: Richardson (1975), 79f.: Antisthenes fr. 51–2 considered the meaning of his traditional epithet polytropos and concluded that it showed how as orator he assumed different characters in addressing different audiences. (17) Plato Cratylus reveals the wider interest in etymology. Herodotus is already indulging in it in 2.52, with his idea that θεοί is etymologous for ‘disposers’ of the world. (18) Hesiod W&D 311. See West's commentary (1978) loc. cit. (19) Gray (2007b) demonstrates that the language is Xenophon's own. See also Dorion (2008b). (20) Armstrong (1958). (21) Tuplin (2003), 132 refers to the arming scene of Cyrus the Younger in Anabasis (below). (22) Howie (1996) identifies the ‘gleam’ of weapons as part of the pattern of aristeia. (23) Cyr. 2.2.28; see pp. 350–1. (24) Hainsworth (1966) describes the formulaic features of the meal and the prayer before battle, esp. p. 162. (25) See pp. 196–202 for further treatment of these scenes. (26) See Hera's preparation of the chariot in Iliad 5.722–32 for example, with its heavy emphasis on the fabulously precious metals of gold and silver and bronze in the construction. (27) He makes his debt to Cyrus clear for the first time at 6.1.46. Tatum (1989), 179–82 says he is used by Cyrus.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (28) Her appearance recalls that scene familiar from vase‐painting where the warrior in a chariot takes farewell of a woman: Jurriaans‐Helle (1999). Painted scenes on pots address departures of warriors as well as bridal processions and the participants are often divine. (29) Reichel (1995), 10–11 and n. 36; Tatum (1989), 179–80. Gera (1993), 223, 235–6. Howie (1996), 207 takes it for granted but does not develop the parallel. (30) The Medes gave Panthea as first prize to Cyrus and the second to their own commander Cyaxares (4.5.51–2). (31) Iliad 4.163–82 echoes Hector's view of forthcoming disgrace and his wish to die before he sees it. (32) Agamemnon swore that he did not touch Briseis when she was in his care (Iliad, 19.258–65), but Achilles took her to his bed (24.676). (33) Cyr. 6.1.31–9. (34) See Baragwanath (2002) on Panthea passim. (35) Homer Iliad 5.719ff. and 8.381ff.: arming scenes for Athena have her chariot prepared, her arms put on, then her mounting the chariot and setting off on her journey to the battlefield; our focus there is entirely on the warrior and her chariot, but Xenophon transfers the gaze to Panthea as Abradatas departs for the battlefield; as Xenophon says, none had eyes for him until she had gone from view. (36) Lowe (1979) on 1.24, where the two lovers kiss each other's clothing and garlands before putting them on their own persons. For the influence of Cyropaedia on the novel: Reichel (1995). (37) See pp. 193–6. (38) See also Gauthier (1986); Tsagalias (2002). (39) The study begins with Homeric vocabulary (pp. 122–3) but recognized that this could be a product of unconscious engagement or even Xenophon' regularly unusual vocabulary. It proceeds to verbal echoes of Homeric phrases and then whole scenes. The comparison was made even in ancient times between Clearchus' speech to his men (1.3) and Phoenix's speech in Iliad 9.433ff. But the hunt for allusions becomes counter‐productive in readings that make Clearchus an Agamemnon in his weeping as well as an Andromache in his identification of the army as his family, both at the same time (pp. 125–6). The introduction of Xenophon himself (3.1.4) is said to recall Homeric introductions (127), but this is the regular style of introductions elsewhere in Xenophon (Hell. 5.4.2, 5.4.25). The pothos of the army is said to recall Odysseus' mother dying of pothos, but Page 43 of 47

 

Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others pothos is also a very common element of his portrayal of friendship, family ones included. (40) Tuplin (2003), 132. (41) See on this theme: Bradley (2001); Ma (2004). (42) Tuplin (2003), 116–18 on the quotations. (43) Due (1989) compares Herodotus and Xenophon and looks at adaptations: 117–35, looking at Astyages, Croesus, Babylon, and his death. She mentions Ctesias and others too, but does not show actual adaptations. See for other influence of Herodotus: Keller (1910–11); Brown (1990). (44) Avery (1972) shows how Herodotus amalgamates the positive image of Cyrus as liberator with the negative image of one who was doomed to fall for his own pride in the classic Herodotean rise and fall pattern. (45) Herodotus 1.107–30. (46) Gera (1993), 118f. on the dream. (47) Lefèvre (1971). Azoulay (2004a), 64 n. 107 quotes Lefevre, but does not answer his argument and says that Cyrus' treatment of Croesus and of Cyaxares (pp. 64–5, 112–13) proves that Cyrus likes making others récipiendaires of favour, with ‘markedly negative implications’. (48) The last part could just possibly mean ‘because he thought that Croesus was safer thus’, which makes both accusatives refer to Croesus instead of taking the second as an adverb; security is a concern of Croesus (7.2.22: ‘I got away, me and my people, ἀσϕαλω̑ϛ with the help of the gods’), but the reference is more likely to Cyrus' security against further revolt. (49) See Azoulay (2004a), 63–6, Higgins (1977), 52–3. (50) Tatum (1989), 146–59 also starts with the views of Lefèvre and against this puts the assumption ‘there is bound to be [in this meeting with Croesus] an aim more in line with his theme of showing how Cyrus came to supreme rule’ (p. 149). He finds this another instance of Cyrus' ‘use’ of people (Croesus and Cyaxares: 146–59, 115–33). Nadon (2001) does not deal with the encounter with Croesus. Gera (1993), 265–79 is in accord with Lefèvre. (51) Tatum (1989) infers from Croesus' attempted military encirclement of Cyrus in the battle in which he was conquered, that he is making an ‘attempt to encircle Cyrus in another way’. See also Tatum (1989), 153, with n. 11.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (52) Tatum (1989), 156: ‘He does not grasp…is altogether innocent of’. ‘Now I know myself’ means only: ‘Now I know that I am beaten’. This admission is said to be ‘nothing of importance’. ‘Flattery is the aim of this admission’ (158). (53) Gera (1993), 274 comments on this parallel. (54) Tatum says that Croesus' view of women is ironic because it is disproved by Panthea's condition elsewhere in the narrative, but Panthea is as deprived of battles as the woman Croesus describes. Xenophon indeed plays on this; she sends her husband to war and does not go herself (6.4, 7.3). (55) Tatum (1989), 158. (56) Tatum (1989), 151, cf. 158. (57) There is Straussian method in picking out an incidental remark made about Croesus' relations with Delphi at 7.2.17 that neither gods nor kaloikagathoi love those who mistrust them, in order to apply it ironically to Croesus' relations with Cyrus; that if Cyrus mistrusts Croesus, he will have no reason to be loyal (p. 155). (58) Gray (2007a), 31–3 and Appendix 1. The material has been enhanced for this chapter. (59) See Morrow (1962). (60) Plato Hippias Major 286a–b. ‘When Troy was taken, the story goes that Neoptolemus asked Nestor what were the good habits of life that a young man might practise to obtain the fairest reputation; and after this Nestor replied, instructing him with very many, very fine precepts.’ Gera (1993), 51–3. (61) Plato, Ep. 7, 332d; Dem. On Style 289–90 on the covert allusion. (62) Outside the framework of the meeting of the ruler and the wise man, Socrates and Aristippus discuss the relative happiness of the ruler and non‐ruler and conclude that the ruler can be happier (Mem. 2.1). (63) For Hiero as a study of the transition from tyranny to royalty: Luccioni (1947), 256–8. Aristotle Politics 1279a226–1282b13 also recognizes kingship among the three constitutions that serve the ‘common good’ along with deviant forms that serve the interests only of the rulers: republic/democracy, aristocracy/ oligarchy, kingship/tyranny. (64) See Chapter 6 on the friendship of the ruler and its comparison with friendship in private life.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (65) The resemblances between Xenophon and Plato on tyranny could be seen as ‘borrowings’ (usually on the assumption that Xenophon borrowed from Plato), but Luccioni (1947), 18–20 in his commentary on Hiero attributed them to the common teaching of Socrates, which seems likelier. (66) Pelling (2002), 123–58 offers a recent discussion of this famous debate. (67) Stobaeus 4.8 in his ‘Accusation of Tyranny’ includes passages from Euripides and Sophocles that portray the tyrant as the enemy of the good man, isolated and afraid, in the stereotyped way. (68) Xenophon develops this same topos in his contrast of the condition of the rich and poor man in the democracy (Symp. 4.30–1). Charmides says that he could never travel when he was rich because of his fear of having his house burgled and because the polis is always making him pay for things, but since he has been impoverished he ‘is able to travel abroad and take up his residence there, just like a free man’. (69) Plato refers to the tyrant's method of acquiring a bodyguard as ‘the much bruited’ τὸ πολυθρύλητον (Rep. 566b); cf. Herodotus on Pisistratus (1.60). (70) Symposium 4.34ff. has Antisthenes make the same comparison of the citizen with the tyrant as Hiero does too: that some are so poor that they act more desperately than those completely without resources; and he reprises the criminality of tyrants, who steal, dig through walls, and enslave—whole households, whole poleis—and do mass executions. Euthydemus expresses the same commonplace when he defines the poor as not having enough for needs and the rich as having more than enough in Memorabilia 4.2.37, but Socrates reminds him that the tyrant, who appears so wealthy, is compelled to crime to protect his life, like the poorest of the poor. (71) Plato also subjects Simonides' poems to dialectical examination and proves that they contain Socratic ideas (Rep. 331e–334b, Prot. 339a–347a). (72) Xenophon was very aware of the Dionysii. He notes the beginning of their tyranny and refers to the later assistance they gave the Spartans: Hell. 2.2.24 and 2.3.5, 6.2.4, 33, and 7.1.20, 22. Sordi (1980), 1–13 even dates the work on the basis of the appropriate moment in Dionysius' career to offer him the work. See also J. Hatzfield, ‘Note sur la date et l'objet du Hiéron de Xénophon’, REG 59 (1946): 54–70. (73) Strauss (1948, 2000). For other approaches see Sevieri (2004), which raises the interesting possibility that Hiero is accommodating the greatness of an individual to the needs of their communities as epinician poets did.

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Xenophon's Adaptations of his Literary Predecessors: Homer, Herodotus, and Others (74) The omission of the reason for which the wise ‘contrive’ is regular in the middle colon in Xenophon's arrangements of sentences of three short and similar phrases (tricola in anaphora). The rule is that if the outside two elements contain a leading idea, it will be the point of the third as well even when not made explicit. The same structure can be found at 2.15 where τοὺϛ πολεμίουϛ is omitted from the middle colon but present in the first and third, and 5.2, where the motives of the uncontrolled in the middle colon are reduced from the status of a clause to a compressed prepositional phrase: τη̑ϛ εἰϛ τὸ παρὸν ἐξουσίαϛ ἕνεκα. (75) See pp. 107–8, 156–7. (76) Pol. 1284a 3ff. See p. 24. (77) See pp. 325–8 on the benefits of fathers to their children and the active virtue this is meant to promote. Xenophon defines mothers and fathers by their service to their children's interests (Mem. 2.2.3–6, 9–10). The Persian noble Chrysantas says of Cyrus: ‘To be called a father is clearly the mark of one who gives benefit to his children rather than taking it away’ (Cyr. 8.2.9). Agesilaus is also loved as a father in Asia for his benefits (Ages. 1.38) and by his fellow citizens (Ages. 7.3). (78) Strauss also rewrites Xenophon's original contrast between the happiness of the ruler and the non‐ruler as the happiness of the ruler and the wise man (80–94), and again between the political life and the private life (87). (79) Gera (1993), 41–4 discusses such silence in her discussion of the norms of Socratic conversation and concludes that there are times when it suggests lack of agreement, but the regular pattern suggests endorsement.

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0005

Abstract and Keywords Chapter 4 examines his creation and development of formulaic scenes to display Xenophon's views on leadership, and how the recognition of these formulae guides our readings and can bring new light to passages that have not previously been recognized as formulae. Keywords:   patterned narrative, formulaic scenes, narrative topoi, willing obedience, bad news, young men, wrongdoers, other leaders

Xenophon has been shown working with the patterned narratives of Homer in the previous chapter but he also creates new narrative formulae for his presentation of good leadership that are in the tradition of Homer's arming scenes or Herodotus' scenes of wise advisers.1 I call these topoi for convenience. This chapter deals with some of his major narrative topoi: willing obedience to leaders, leaders' reactions to bad news, rulers' relations with young men, apparently unjust acquittals of wrongdoers, and reconciliations of offended kings. These patterns have been gathered from real life into Xenophon's imagination, so that he produces individualized representations but has in mind a generalized reality. As in all patterned narrative, they reflect realities, but are artfully wrought.2 The major patterns, like those in Herodotus, are themselves made up of motifs, some of which have the potential to become stories in their own right. Sometimes there are no more than two or three fully worked versions of the patterns, but this is also the case with some Homeric patterned narratives, and there are many examples of others, such as the topos of willing obedience and the paidikos logos. Xenophon has the creative ability to inform Page 1 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership these patterns and their motifs with instructive and interesting variations— essential for one who would (p.180) in the course of presenting multiple models of leadership often repeat the same thought. Yet his repetition does something more too. It creates the same effect as in Herodotus: through repeated instances of what happened on different occasions he produces analogies that spell out the general truth about the human condition, in his case about leadership and its associated virtues. We find also that he has a literary theory about the use of such scenes. The benefits of this kind of formulaic writing include giving the writer a framework of thought inside which to operate and inside which the reader can operate too. The readers in Socrates' circle might easily recognize the themes behind these topoi, but even the unknowing reader would eventually learn to recognize the common elements in the patterns as they unfold and thus be able to interpret the differences as well. I want to begin ἀπ᾽ ἐλαχίστων, with a few very obvious topoi involving the leader's relations with his followers: the topos of willing obedience, the topos of the leader's reception of bad news, and the paidikos logos, in which a boy is a follower and the leader is put in various relationships with him in order to demonstrate his qualities. These serve as a preliminary to what Xenophon does with his much larger patterns, concerning the leader's justice, and the dynamics of friendship between leaders.

1. Willing Obedience The leader's achievement of willing obedience from followers has been defined in previous chapters as the key to success in any organization, and Xenophon creates a narrative topos to show that obedience in action, which often also reveals why the leader achieves that obedience. In a previous chapter, Xenophon used the explicit evaluation to focus on this achievement and we now turn to the narratives that support them in order to elicit their very simple formulaic features and literary qualities. The reactions of followers in the evaluations of Teleutias, Epaminondas, and Cyrus the Younger can be recalled: Teleutias sailed home in the most blessed state. When he went down to the shore to embark for home, none of the soldiers failed to take his hand, and (p.181) one garlanded him, another put chaplets on his head, and those who arrived too late, nevertheless even as he set out, tossed garlands into the sea and sent up prayers in abundance for his good fortune. (Hell. 5.1.4) When Epaminondas finally announced that there would be a battle, the cavalrymen eagerly whitened their helmets at his bidding, the hoplites of the Arcadians also painted clubs on, as being Thebans, and all of them sharpened their spears and daggers and polished up their shields. (Hell. 7.5.19)

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership Then it was possible to gaze upon a piece of obedience. Throwing off their purple cloaks on the spot where each man stood, they rushed as one would run to victory, down a very steep slope, wearing these extravagant shirts and embroidered trousers, some of them with torques around their necks and bracelets on their wrists. Along with these, without hesitation they leaped into the mud, quicker than one would have thought possible, and they pulled the wagons out onto dry land. (Anabasis 1.5.8) The authorial comments that introduced these scenes continue to mark items of special interest inside the narratives such as the speed of the Persians: ‘quicker than one would have thought possible’, and their enthusiasm: ‘as one would run for victory’. The sequences of verbal actions divide the followers into individuals or separate groups, enhancing the display of enthusiasm by encouraging the reader to focus on individuals while multiplying their presence. The Persians all throw off their cloaks, but where each individual stood, and a few are picked out among the others for their jewellery. The detail is visual too: the whitening of the helmets of the cavalry and the clubs painted by Epaminondas' hoplites find their counterpart in the fine dress details of the Persians. Teleutias has his hand clasped by all, but their other marks of honour are differentiated: garlands, chaplets; and the garlands in the sea and prayers. In the Persian scene there is an actual invitation to the reader to visualize and ‘gaze upon’ the scene (θεήσασθαι). The purpose of the visualization is not just to engage the reader's senses, as we shall see below, but also to engage their minds. Sometimes the detail already promotes reflection on the unspoken relations between leaders and followers behind the explicit evaluation. The Persian finery for instance is what they sacrifice to their obedience and may also be the reason why they gave such obedience, since in his obituary (1.9.23) Cyrus is known to bestow such finery on his friends. The comparison in which the Persians run to serve Cyrus as others run to victory in battle indicates (p.182) their speed and their enthusiasm, but the idea of victory means also that there is a competition among them to serve him. In this way the simple reference to a victory has resonance beyond the surface meaning and at the heart of Xenophon's leadership theory. Reading Comparatively

Xenophon's formulaic scenes, like patterned stories in other authors, can speak to each other in their differences as well as their similarities. For instance, the scene in which Cyrus has his Persians extricate the wagons from the bog seems to be ‘answered’ by another scene of obedience in which Clearchus urges his men to make bridges over such ditches and canals full of water (An. 2.3.10ff.). Xenophon sets both scenes in the context of the leader's need for speed on the journey, making the ready obedience even more significant than usual, and he comments on the reason for the speed immediately after his descriptions of the scene. Speed was needed in the earlier case to take the king by surprise in the march against him, and in the later case to get away from the king before he

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership entirely flooded the plain with his control of water. The scenes mark the change from being on the offensive with Cyrus, to being on the retreat with Clearchus. The difficulties facing Clearchus are described in the same detail as those facing Cyrus, and the mud in both scenes dirties Persian finery and Clearchus alike. The main variation between these two otherwise formulaic scenes is the contrast between the leadership styles of Cyrus and Clearchus, which shows up in the response of their followers too. This scene involving Clearchus begins with a narrator's direction as in the Persian scene: Then it was possible to understand the style of Clearchus' leadership (καὶ ἐνταυ̑θα ἠ̑ν Κλέαρχον καταμαθει̑ν ὡϛ ἐπεστάτει), with his spear in his left hand and a baton in his right. If any of those appointed to the task looked to him like they were slacking, he would select a suitable case and beat him, and at the same time he joined in himself, going down into the mud. The result was shame for all at not joining him. Those up to thirty years of age were appointed to the task, but when they saw Clearchus (p.183) working hard (ἐπεὶ δὲ Κλέαρχον ἑώρων σπουδάζοντα), even those who were older joined in.3 The scene has the same visualization as previous ones. Xenophon does not directly invite the reader to ‘gaze on’ the obedience to Clearchus' commands as he does in the Persian scene, but he does invite him to ‘observe’ how Clearchus supervised his men, and he describes Clearchus in significant visual detail, as holding the spear in his left hand, the inactive one, and the baton in his right, with which he beats his men. The possibility of observing Clearchus is also open to witnesses of the action who were there at the time. The older men join in ‘when they saw him working hard’ as witnesses to the spectacle. It was recognized from ancient times that visualization achieved literary enargeia,4 and one form of this is ‘how the representation of spectators in a historical narrative enhances the “visibility” of the larger scene and comments implicitly on the processes of reading and representation’ eliciting in the reader the emotions that they are experiencing in the phenomenon called ‘pathetic optics’ (Walker (1993), 360–2). Clearchus also ‘views’ his men's performance: ‘if ever anyone seemed to/was seen by him to be slacking’. The high number of verbs and the frequentative tense assist visualization. The scenes have structural similarities too, in the two waves of followers, which let us focus on the achievement of the commanders. Cyrus first commanded Glous and Pigres to take some of the native troops to get the wagons out, and when they proved too slow, he replaced them with ‘the best’ from his own entourage of ‘the very best and most successful Persians’; in Clearchus' case too the younger men seem not to satisfy him, but he beats slackers rather than Page 4 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership replacing them as Cyrus does; the older men join in helping them when they are shamed into it. These represent two different ways of dealing with followers: Cyrus seems to make the second wave of followers compete for his favour in order to do much better than the first wave and Clearchus shames the second wave of followers into action by joining in the efforts of the first wave. (p.184) There is also the scene of slightly qualified willing obedience in which Xenophon portrays himself as the commander and reveals the qualities of his leadership in some interesting variations on the formula (An. 3.4.47–9). He is concerned for speed like Cyrus and Clearchus, since he is riding on his horse urging his men forward to the attack, and he urges his men to the attack with fine words of encouragement about Greece and wives and children and all that; but not all his followers leap into immediate action.5 Soteridas challenges his commander: ‘We are not on equal terms. You are carried on a horse, I am suffering under the weight of my shield’. Xenophon does not strike him for insubordination or replace him with others; instead he demonstrates ideal command by taking more than his share of the hardship and getting the rest of the men to bring Soteridas into line. He shows the heavy price you paid for such leadership when he dismounts from his horse, pushes Soteridas aside, takes up the shield that he said was so heavy, and carries this as well as the great weight of his own cavalry breastplate: and in this condition he shows how he struggled on behind his men, giving them orders from there. This very realistic representation of the commander taking a greater share of hardship than his men made the other men turn on Soteridas and force him back into position with his shield, and they then achieved their military mission with Xenophon back in the saddle. The message this sends is that the commander who takes his share of toil and more wins willing followers who are prepared to put their unwilling fellow back in his proper place. (p.185) Xenophon repeats the point later about the need for the whole community to participate in correcting others (An. 5.8.21). We see an interesting adaptation too of the formulaic structure of the two waves of followers, which were a feature of the scenes of willing obedience to Clearchus and Cyrus above. In Xenophon's story the first wave is Soteridas, who does not obey his commander at all, and the second is the other men, who make him obey by attacking him. Xenophon's example as leader creates an interaction between the two waves that is like the competition between followers in other versions of the formula. It is interesting to observe that later in the work Xenophon chooses to dismount from his horse and join hoplites on foot because he knows they will perform better if he does so (7.3.44–6). This is when he is with Seuthes, who asks him why he is dismounting when there is a need for speed; the answer is that the commander who sets an example in endurance secures the speed of the whole group. In contrast to Xenophon, Cyrus the Great achieves stunning obedience to his orders without resistance, for instance at Cyr. 3.3.70. The regular introduction:

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership ‘Then one would have perceived…’ is followed by the regular description of speed and enthusiasm. Xenophon's leadership has the same effect as it had in the case of Soteridas above in the later scene in which the problem is that the men are reluctant to rise in the morning from their snow beds, which are warmer than the surrounding air, but are in danger of dying if they do not get up (An. 4.4.12). Xenophon stirs them out of their reluctance by his personal example when he ‘had the courage’ (ἐτόλμησεν) to get up from the snow and begin to chop wood just in his light clothes: one of his men immediately got up and took the axe from him and chopped; others then got up too and began to burn fire and grease their skins against the cold. We again have the two waves of followers, with the first follower taking the cue from the example of his commander and then setting an example to the rest, who follow him as he followed his commander. Again there is the slight impression that they are competing for his favour. At all events Xenophon secures the outcome he desires by setting another example of endurance, this time of freezing conditions in light clothing rather than carrying heavy shield and breastplate. He is fond of his own demonstrations of how to remedy the unwillingness in his men. (p.186) Associations Other Than Military

These versions so far surveyed may make it appear that the topos of willing obedience is limited to military leaders, but Socrates' identification of the sight of willing and unwilling slaves as the work of the estate manager extends it to farm managers and to their slaves, and Ischomachus thus describes his ergon: When the master appears, Socrates, he said, at the work in question, he who has the power to harm the poor worker in the highest degree and honour the keen one in the highest degree, if the workers make no show (εἰ μηδὲν ἐπίδηλον ποιήσουσιν οἱ ἐργάται), I would not admire him, but the one at whose appearance (ὄν ἂν ἰδόντεϛ) they are set in motion, and an energy seizes each of the workers, and mutual competition and a most powerful love of honour to be the best in each one (ϕιλονεικία πρὸϛ ἀλλήλουϛ καὶ ϕιλοτιμία κρατιστευ̑σαι ἐκάστω), this man I would say has something of the kingly character (ἤθουϛ βασιλικου̑). (21.10) Ischomachus is not describing a specific incident here but generalizing to create a principle of enthusiastic obedience for Socrates to learn. Rather than referring to the workers digging earth or harvesting crops, therefore, he speaks of their showing general ‘love of competition’ and ‘love of honour’, their being ‘set in motion’, their ‘strength falling upon them’. The description of the master as the one who has greatest power to punish or reward spells out how the obedience is secured, but no follower acts out of fear; all pursue the incentive of honour in the expectation of reward, which confirms the preference in Xenophon's theory for willing over coerced obedience. The visualization present in the other scenes Page 6 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership continues nevertheless. The workers respond when they ‘see’ a successful manager, but offer ‘no spectacle’ (μηδὲν ἐπίδηλον) of hard work when the unsuccessful master ‘appears’. This version of the topos speaks to the Persian scene when it clarifies the reason for competition among the farm workers as the prospect of reward for enthusiastic service. That was the motive behind the competition among Cyrus' followers in their race to victory: to please him. The emphasis on the expectation of reward clarifies also the focus on their clothing in the Persian scene, which suggests he had already rewarded them in the past, and could give more reward in the future. (p.187) Literary Theory?

It is evident that Xenophon is writing these scenes of willing obedience according to a formula that has its origins in his experiences and is using techniques of Homeric patterned narrative, and of Homeric visualization, to focus on leadership. This emphasis on visualization makes it possible to draw from these scenes a more cultural and literary theory, which presents the leader's achievement as a visual spectacle in order to make the reader learn from it. This fits the notion of viewing in modern literary and cultural analysis, which ‘has been used to explore the interface of representation and social and intellectual forces and has found performance a fundamental analytical category for the constructedness of experience’.6 In that analysis, the performance as spectacle is mostly public—theatrical or rhetorical or religious—and the citizen learns through viewing, as in, but not only in, tragic and comic and other mimetic performances. A recent study of the conversation between Socrates and the courtesan Theodote in Memorabilia 3.10 has maintained that Xenophon is aware of this in reference to the ‘seduction of the gaze’.7 Theodote was the focus of viewing in that account, and the viewing was dangerous for the citizen because of the threat of lust, but Socrates reverses the situation and he becomes the object of her gaze, with all the moral improvement for her that is implied in that spectacle. Xenophon makes a similar theatre, but it is of the leader's achievement of willing obedience (ἔργον). And in this case the seduction of the gaze is translated into the instruction of the gaze—through the invitation to consider and imitate the achievement. Xenophon is not usually presented as a literary theorist, but other examples will confirm his reputation.8 He seems for instance familiar with the theory of artistic imitation of objects in the real world that we find in Plato's Republic when he describes how the plastic arts (p.188) ‘imitate’ the emotions in the phenomenon of artistic mimesis, using the terms ἐπιεικασία, ἐπιεικάζειν as well as μιμει̑σθαι (Mem. 3.10.1–8). In Symposium he uses the same language to describe the imitations of characters in comic skits (6.9–10); he recalls Platonic reasons for not admitting mimesis of inferior actions into his ideal city when he has Socrates dissuade the clown from ‘imitating’ the Syracusan entrepreneur on Page 7 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership the grounds that he will take on his low and abusive character: ‘Do not imitate him, for fear that you look like one who abuses’. The clown replies: ‘But if I liken him to the good and true, one would justly liken me to one who praises rather than abuses…Do you want me to liken him to inferior types?’9 Xenophon also uses the language of mimesis in the dramatic mime performance at the end of the work where gestures constitute the imitation (Symposium 9: the actress ‘looks like one who is modest’, ‘it was possible to view’, ‘they seemed like those who had not been taught the moves, but were released at last to do what they had long desired’). He also speaks of the mimesis offered by comedy in Oeconomicus, as we shall see below. Xenophon does not use the term mimesis of his narrative vignettes, but he does invite us to ‘view’ them, as the audience might watch a performance in drama, and we will see below that in one important passage he directly compares the viewing of scenes of willing obedience and viewing comic performances. We do not have much prose literary theory before Aristotle, and what exists is mainly about rhetoric, but if Xenophon is offering his narrative scenes as mimeseis of actions for instruction, he is offering the pleasure of the visualization as well as the pleasure of learning, and in this he gives to scenes in prose literature what Aristotle was to reserve most of all for tragedy and epic in his Poetics.10 (p.189) There are many other contexts apart from the scenes described above in which Xenophon invites the reader to ‘view’ the commander's achievement of willing obedience. Xenophon's Hiero defines the sights one sees while travelling abroad as pleasures that seem ‘most worth seeing’ (1.10–11), but when he undergoes his reform as a ruler, he will value most of all the sight of the work of ready obedience he will then achieve (11.12): ‘those who obey you would do so willingly, and you would gaze upon them as they willingly looked to your interests, and if there were danger, you would see not only allies, but champions and enthusiasts…’ The spectacle of service is his own visual ‘production’ as a leader of excellence and he is its ‘maker’. The same spectacle is found in the individual partnership of Sambaulas and the man he has brought to the party in Cyropaedia 2.2.28–31, where other characters seem to theorize about literature too. Sambaulas says he loves to ‘gaze upon’ (ἥδομαι θεώμενοϛ) his companion and when his audience express surprise because of the quite apparent ugliness of the man, he explains that he sees him (εἰ̑δον) with particular pleasure when he is sweating away at some task he has been given, and that he has shown his regiment what they ought to be like in imitation of him: ‘however many times I call him night or day, he never pretends to be busy nor does he come walking, but always running; as many time as I tell him to do something I have never seen him doing this without sweating; he has made all the company like this, showing them not in word but in deed the kinds of men they should be’. The exhortation to visualize the effects of the training programme at Ephesus (Hell. 3.5.16–19) is another instance of the commander's achievement and the visualizing Page 8 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership techniques are as in the scenes of willing obedience. ‘Agesilaus made the whole polis in which he was present worthy of view (θέαϛ).’ ‘It was possible to see the gymnasia full of men exercising, the hippodrome full of men riding and the javelinists and archers practising their skills.’ ‘A man would take heart seeing this too: Agesilaus at their head and then the rest of the men leaving the gymnasia wearing garlands and dedicating their garlands to Artemis. Where men revere the gods, practice warfare, and train in obedience, how it is not likely that all will be full of high hopes?’ The successful ruler is himself also the object of the gaze of his followers. Hiero 11.7–9 says of the leader who benefits his community: ‘When people believe a man can benefit them, and think to get good things from him, then praise of him is in their (p.190) mouths, they gaze upon him each of them as their own good, they move aside for him in the streets and rise from their seats, loving and not fearing him, and they garland him for both his virtue and his good deeds towards them, and wish to give him gifts’. We can compare the gazes directed at Cyrus in Cyropaedia 4.1.23, 5.4.11. Xenophon's works do direct the viewer's gaze to other wondrous phenomena, such as large numbers of corpses and people enjoying phenomenal success and failure, and to many other sights than willing obedience, in Hellenica 4.4.12, 4.5.6, 9, 18 for instance, and as Dillery reminds us,11 this kind of viewing can be voyeuristic as well as instructive, but this extension of the gaze to include scenes of willing obedience just enhances their significance by putting them alongside these other wondrous achievements. The instructive value of viewing the commander's ergon is already apparent in the encouragement of the reader to reflect on the qualities of leadership that produced the willing obedience that was given to Teleutias. But the most important evidence comes from Oeconomicus, were Xenophon puts a theory of instructional viewing into the mouth of Socrates when he is instructing Critobulus in estate management. Socrates suggests here that if Critobulus ‘views’ the works of estate management (τὰ οἰκονομικὰ ἔργα, 3.1) he will learn how to perform them. The reader might expect that in a work on estate management, these ‘works’ have to do mainly with farming, like those of Hesiod's Works and Days. Socrates indeed reports his education in the ‘works’ of farming at the hands of Ischomachus. But as the scene involving the farm workers above shows, even in farm management the greater work is that of leadership of others, including the ‘work’ of securing willing obedience from the workers on the estate, who in Xenophon's universal theory, are no different from soldiers under military command. Willing obedience is indeed one of Socrates' examples of the ‘work’ of estate management (3.4). He describes this obedience as ‘worthy of view’ and speaks of ‘showing’ it to Critoboulus, and he says that Critobulus will ‘see’ that in some households slaves are (p.191) chained to their work because they try to run away, whereas in others they are willing to work unrestrained (3.4):

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership What if I show you (ἐπιδεικνύω) household slaves (οἰκέταϛ), in one place all in chains and yet running away in droves, but in another place free from chains but willing to work and stay (ἐθέλοντάϛ τε ἐργάζεσθαι καὶ παραμένειν), will I not seem to you to be showing you (ἐπιδεικνύναι) a work of estate management (τη̑ϛ οἰκονομίαϛ ἔργον) that is worth looking upon (ἀξιοθέατον)? His other examples include ‘showing’ Critobulus extravagant houses without usefulness and cheap houses meeting all requirements, and expensive furniture and equipment likewise that cannot be used, and some who farm successfully and others who do not (3.1–6). The instruction that comes from viewing is explicit, for instance in the case of farmers who are impoverished by their occupations. ‘I will take you’, says Socrates, ‘to these people too and you will learn by viewing them’ (3.6: σὺ καὶ θεώμενοϛ δήπου καταμαθήσῃ). Critobulus seems to challenge the usefulness of viewing when he suggests that he might not understand how to do these works of estate management even when he has viewed them, but Socrates chastises him for his lack of commitment, comparing his viewing of these works to the viewing of drama in the theatre:12 I know that at present in order to view comedies (κωμῳδ̑ν θέαν) you get up very early and go a long way and persuade me energetically to view them with you (συνθεα̑σθαι). But you have never called me to a work of this kind (the work of farming). Critobulus recognizes that he is being mocked, perhaps because he knows that comedy represents the ‘works’ of inferior characters; this is the political dimension of the spectacle. But he persists with his resistance, maintaining that he has not yet profited from ‘seeing’ some men impoverished by the horses they own and others greatly profiting from them. Socrates then compares the viewing of actors on the stage with the viewing of the works of leaders in real life and introduces the concept of the viewer ‘making’ such works in his own person. He points out that Critobulus goes to see tragic or comic (p.192) performances in order to see and hear something that gives pleasure, not in order to become a ‘maker’ of their works, and maybe that's all right, since he does not want to become a poet (3.9): Θεᾷ γὰρ αὐτοὺϛ ᾐ̑περ τοὺϛ τραγῳδούϛ τε καὶ κῳμῳδούϛ, οὐκ ὅπωϛ ποιητὴϛ οἴομαι γένῃ, ἀλλ' ὅπωϛ ἡσθῇϛ ἰδών τι καὶ ἀκουσαϛ.13 You view them as you do tragedians and comedians not to become a ‘maker’ I think, but to get pleasure out of seeing and hearing them.

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership But with the management of horses and other actions he does need to know the ‘work’ and he needs to become a professional rather than an amateur, since estate management inevitably involves this kind of knowledge, and that is how he intends to make his living and his profit. Xenophon is playing here with the idea of viewing and doing across the media, in dramas and in real life.14 The amateur cannot write or perform a dramatic action with the required skill, nor can he ‘make’ the action of willing obedience. Xenophon is no amateur in his own medium, which is that of writing, but ‘makes’ scenes of ready obedience, which once viewed will lead the reader to make the ‘works’ of good leadership himself. Unlike the comic poet who has been mentioned, Xenophon produces the actions of serious men for the consideration of serious men, and unlike the tragic poet, he does so without tears. What is worthy of view comes from the world of the kaloikagathoi and instructs them in how to manage themselves, their households, and their polis. This is a political dimension of the viewing and it also finds its place in the theory of literature.15 (p.193) As if to confirm this as a major theme of Oeconomicus, it is through viewing that Socrates himself learns the more conventional ‘works’ of estate management in the second act of the dialogue when he seeks instruction in farming from Ischomachus, and he is told that it is most easy to learn just through viewing: ‘Seeing people who are at work and hearing from them, you would understand things, to the extent of even teaching others if you wished’ (15.10). He adds that farmers are most keen for their good works to be ‘seen’ (15.11). An extra pedagogical dimension is added to viewing when Socrates finds that he is able to answer questions put to him about farming and wonders aloud on how he knows these things without learning them (18.9; cf. 19.13). At this point learning through viewing crosses with the familiar idea of Platonic midwifery, where Ischomachus is able to bring Socrates' innate knowledge to birth in the best Socratic manner through questioning and analogies as well as viewing (19.14–16).16 There appears to be a cognitive gap between looking at how things are done with grape vines and how you secure willing workers, but Xenophon might imagine that there will always be a wise questioner at hand to guide the viewer. We might imagine that when he observes in the preface to Cyropaedia that ‘in private households the masters of those who had many slaves and those who had few could not keep any number in a state of obedience to them’ (1.1.1), he has been engaging in the kind of viewing to which Socrates invited Critobulus (which we saw above). Xenophon invites the viewer of his literary work to the same kind of reflection when he asks them to reflect on the reasons for the willing obedience that Teleutias acquired in Hellenica 5.1.4, but in that case it was not questioning that provided the answer but Xenophon's own subsequent narrative.

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership Willing Obedience to Fallen Commanders

I complete this survey of the topos of willing obedience with examples from other works where men save the life of a commander who is in trouble or willingly die with him. The first shows the love of his men for Cyrus the Great (Cyr. 7.1.37–8). He has fallen from his horse in (p.194) the midst of the battle of Sardis: ‘Then they fought close, infantry and cavalry, and someone fell under Cyrus’ horse and, being trodden under, strikes at the belly of his horse with his dagger. The horse rearing shakes Cyrus off.' The explicit intervention then brings attention to the visual aspect as usual: ‘And then a man would have seen how valuable it is that a ruler be loved by those around him’ (ἔνθα δὴ ἔγνω ἄν τιϛ ὅσου ἄξιον εἴη τὸ ϕιλει̑σθαι ἄρχοντα ὑπὸ τω̑ν περὶ αὐτὸν). His followers went into action immediately again as usual and in characteristically Xenophontic asyndeton: ‘they all shouted and attacked, they fought, they shoved, were shoved, they struck, were struck’. A man then leapt down from his horse and put Cyrus up on it, and when he observed that all round him the Egyptians were being driven back by his men, he no longer let his Persians attack them directly, but kept the attack at a distance. We notice the usual authorial evaluation and the usual focus on the reactions of followers in scenes of willing obedience, and also the structuring of the waves of followers, where the attendant who gave him his horse is singled out from the rest. We also learn the reason Cyrus was loved, when he stops the hard fighting at close quarters that cost them lives. The scene follows in which he shows mercy to the Egyptians and stops the fighting entirely. Xenophon makes a similar comment just before this about those who followed Abradatas into the great battle of the chariots against the Egyptians (7.1.30): Many other occasions have made it clear that there is no stronger line than when it is composed of allies who are friends, and this was revealed on this occasion too.17 Their solidarity is shown in how they joined him in what was to prove a very dangerous engagement, at which others fled in panic and fear. Xenophon's vivid writing makes their enthusiasm the usual spectacle, with the chariot horses overturning the enemy, the horses and their wheels crushing them and their weapons, and the scythes on the wheels chopping into their weapons and bodies too. His reference to the confusion as ‘unnarratable’ belies his skill (7.1.32). And when in (p.195) the fighting Abradatas is thrown from his chariot, and some of his followers, these good men are chopped into pieces too. Later we will meet Panthea assembling the part of his dismembered body. The topos of dedication to a commander, with its usual visual detail, can also take the even grimmer form of suicide:

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership It is said that Artapatas, the most loyal attendant among his sceptre‐ bearers, when he saw Cyrus fallen, leaped from his horse and covered the body with his own, and some say that the king commanded a man to slaughter him on top of Cyrus, others that he drew his dagger and slew himself over the body; for he had a golden dagger, and he wore a collar and bracelets and the other dress of the best of the Persians; for he had been honoured by Cyrus for his good‐will and his loyalty. (An. 1.8.29) The detail of how the man ‘leaped from his horse’ is the same as in the story of the near death of the other Cyrus above, and it shows his similar love of Cyrus the Younger; it may also suggest that he could have escaped from danger rather than dismounting and dying as he did. His ‘embracing’ of Cyrus is significant of his devotion to him even in death. The matter of the sword is also significant. Xenophon seems at first undecided about whether the man committed suicide or not and he gives two version of what was said about what happened. Yet the lightest of touches confirms his belief that the man committed suicide (a nobler version that shows him to be completely in control of his own destiny) and reveals the whole reason for such dedication to Cyrus—his dagger made of gold; a twisted necklet and bracelets and the rest of the costume of the best of the Persians; because he had been honoured by Cyrus for his good‐will and his fidelity. The scene shows that Cyrus was not disappointed in his assessment of this man as one of the best, since he proved himself the best in his death.18 The description of the man's dress has the same effect as that of the Persians in the mud in the earlier scene. We have been told earlier that this man (p.196) was the most loyal of the sceptre‐bearers and was trusted with significant missions (1.6.11). The knowledge of Homeric aristeia may enrich the scene a little, but the pattern and the effect are entirely Xenophonic. There is no second wave of followers. They have all died fighting with him. The double motivation we observe in this topos is a narrative device that marks the significant moment in Herodotus and others,19 and Xenophon uses it to mark this significant piece of loyalty in misfortune, but it also allows Xenophon to contrast the bad leader with the good. The king who orders the man to be killed is Cyrus' brother, who, we know from the obituary, could not command willing obedience from anyone and seems determined in this scene to exterminate it when it is shown to others. This alternative reminds the reader of the focus on leader/follower dynamics, while the other underlines the man's courage and command of himself. The citation ‘it is said’ confirms his action because it might otherwise appear incredible. The topos of willing obedience is an example of a scene that is formulaic in its structure, literary features, and focus on leadership. Some other formulaic scenes are capable of more extensive development, but continue to show the same focus on leadership.

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership 2. The Reception of Bad News The topos of the reaction to defeat or other crisis continues to offer the reader a spectacle of a leader's ‘work’ and focuses particularly on the leader's need to show self‐control in a crisis and mitigate the effects of the bad news he receives. (p.197) Leuctra

The reception of the news of Leuctra plays with the normally opposed emotions of grief and joy in order to show the Spartan leadership in action in dealing with disaster. After this, the man who was to take the news of the disaster to Lacedaemon arrived on the last day of the Gymnopaedia when the men's chorus was in the sanctuary. When the ephors heard the news of the disaster, they were grieved, as, I think, was natural, but they did not lead out the chorus, but let them see the competition through; and they gave the names of the dead to their relatives of each, but they told the women not to wail but to bear the disaster in silence. On the next day it was possible to see those whose relatives had died bright‐faced and groomed, striding about in the open, but those whose relatives were announced as living, very few of these were seen, and those with downcast expression taking the side paths in humiliation. (Hell. 6.4.16) The formulaic elements in this scene are (a) the arrival of the messenger with the news and (b) the reactions to it, which is subdivided into (a) the reactions of the leaders, who manage their grief, and (b) of their followers, whose grief the leaders also control. The reaction in this case is paradoxically Spartan: to glory in those who died and to mourn those who survived. The author validates the natural reaction of grief in the ephors by the use of the authorial intervention ‘as, I think, was natural’; they are to be admired the more for subsequently controlling what is marked as a reasonable human reaction. We then turn to their control of the reactions of the men and women of Sparta. The visual aspect is as strong as in scenes of willing obedience: ‘it was possible to see’ the relatives of the dead rejoice openly in the streets on the next day, whereas few with living relatives were seen, and these were ‘looking’ most distressed. There is a similar scene of reaction at Hellenica 4.5.10, when the Spartans grieve for those who died at Lechaeum—except for those whose relatives died holding their ground: these walked about ‘like victors bright‐faced and rejoicing in their suffering’. Xenophon makes a feature of the contrast of light and dark, of grief and joy juxtaposed. (p.198) Agesilaus and Cnidus

In another version of the leader's reaction to bad news, Agesilaus, like the ephors, overcomes his own grief at the loss of his own relative Peisander in the naval defeat off Cnidus (4.3.10–14), and then controls the reactions of the men he commands. This defeat was a major setback to Spartan ambitions for control Page 14 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership of the sea, just as Leuctra demolished their hopes of control of the Peloponnese. The narrative of the disaster in this case is given as a messenger speech delivered to Agesilaus: ‘It was announced that the Spartans were defeated in the sea battle and that Peisander the nauarch had died; and it was told to him in what manner the battle came about’. Agesilaus puts a glad face on his own grief when he receives the message and controls the negative reaction in his men by saying that Peisander has died, but that there was a victory in the sea battle. He then sacrifices an ox as if for good news (ἐβουθύτει ὡϛ εὐαγγέλια) and sends round the portions of meat to ‘many’ of his men in order to bolster and preserve their morale. He cannot give the news of the disaster because they are mostly recruited from Greek Asia and the loss of control of the sea means that their homes are in danger. Xenophon notes the good effect of the deception of Agesilaus in their later victory in a skirmish, and in their subsequent fighting at the battle of Coronea, which is the victory in which Agesilaus is praised for his preparation of his men in Agesilaus 2.7. The effect of genuine good news on these same allies is found not many paragraphs before the deception, when Agesilaus makes sure that the good news that he receives of a real victory reaches the allies, to make them more ‘enthusiastic’ for the fight: Hellenica 4.3.2–3. Eteonicus

Another example in which the commander preserves morale by pretending that there has been a victory is in the reception of the bad news of the Athenian defeat of the Spartans in the naval battle of Arginousai by the Spartan commander Eteonicus (1.6.36–7). Again, messengers bring Eteonicus the bad news, but they assume their own (p.199) importance in this version of the topos. They sail in on a ship, and he tells them to sail out again and return wearing garlands and shouting out news of a victory instead: that Callicratidas has won the victory and the Athenians ships were all lost. Assisted by this public performance, Eteonicus then ‘sacrifices for good news’ as Agesilaus did (ἔθυε τὰ εὐαγγέλια) and he tells the men to prepare for dinner and departure. His purpose is to secure an orderly retreat for the fleet and army, because the victory has made the position they hold a dangerous one. The implication is that without the illusion of victory, they might have lost heart for the move or not have been able to preserve order. These last two examples have the leaders deceive their men. The expectation that Xenophon conveys elsewhere is that deceit is a quality that the commander must use on his enemies and occasionally even on his friends in the interests of the common good. An instance of this is Memorabilia 4.2.17, where Socrates is dividing actions into those that are just and unjust in the conversation with Euthydemus and secures his agreement that lies are unjust; but Socrates then asks: ‘what if a general seeing despair in the army tells them a lie that their allies are coming and he puts an end to their despair this way, in which column shall we place this deceit?’ The answer is that this kind of deception is in fact Page 15 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership just. Socrates goes on to give as examples of just deception straightforward cases in private life, such as when a father deceives his child into drinking the bitter medicine that will preserve his life, or a weapon is taken from one who is suicidal, but he begins with the deception of the general, and his focus on the morale of the men reflects the problem faced by Agesilaus and Eteonicus. The objection has been made that Agesilaus is impious in sacrificing as if for good news on the basis of the deception.20 If that is the case then Eteonicus is also impious since the sacrifice and the feast that follows are an integral part of the pattern. I can find no answer to this, but it would be hard to reconcile his evident approval of the deceit, which finds the confirming horizon in (p.200) Socratic thought, with disapproval of the sacrifice, even though there are no confirming contexts. Agesilaus and Cyrus the Younger

There are other instances of reactions to bad news that do not involve deceit, when Cyrus the Younger reacts to the news of the proximity of his brother's army in Anabasis 1.8.1, and when Agesilaus reacts to the news of the destruction of the regiment at Lechaeum in Hellenica 4.5.7ff. A comparison of these shows how Xenophon effectively varies the structure of the elements in the topos. The episode in which Agesilaus reacts to the bad news of the destruction of the regiment at Lechaeum is a tour de force. This disaster was a massive setback for the Spartans and gains in effect by being revealed only gradually to the reader.21 Xenophon has the news brought to Agesilaus after his stunning success at Peiraion (4.5.3–6) just when Xenophon has commented that those who have success in conquest ‘always seem worthy of the gaze in some way’ and has described the king as ‘looking like one rejoicing in the things achieved’ (4.5.7). Into this scene of success comes the messenger who brings the bad news on a heavily sweating horse (καὶ μάλα ἰσχυρω̑ϛ ἱδρω̑ντι τῳ̑ ἵππῳ), who says nothing and does not even answer questions from others, but leaps from his horse, runs to Agesilaus, and gives the news to him with a grim expression, privately, as if aware of the possibility of a panic reaction (4.5.7). As yet we know nothing of the nature of the news, but the sweating horse indicates that it is very bad and demands immediate action. Agesilaus does react immediately. He leaps up onto his horse from the place he has been sitting in exultation, takes up his spear, calls his captains and tells them to eat and then follow him as quickly as possible. We notice that he goes without food himself—the ideal commander as ever—and that he is at the head of his immediate company as they get into action. More of the bad news is revealed when he meets three horsemen who announce that ‘the bodies’ have been recovered, but readers (p.201) still do not know the exact nature of the disaster. Its extent is revealed further in his encounter with the Theban ambassadors, who come to him no longer talking of peace, but as Agesilaus says, wishing to ‘gaze on’ the extent of the success that their friends have enjoyed (4.5.9: a telling reversal of Xenophon's comments that their previous success had made his Spartans ‘worthy of the gaze’). The Page 16 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership suspense continues while Agesilaus mitigates the effects of the as yet still unrevealed disaster with a display of control of the land through plundering, with more revelation of what has happened in the mention of the trophy that he did not remove (4.5.10). He eventually returns to camp, where we have a further intimation of the extent of the disaster in the account of the reactions of the Spartans to it, where those whose relatives had died in their ranks were in typical Spartan fashion the only ones to look bright and happy. It is only now that reactions to the disaster have been fully played out that Xenophon finally reveals the actual details of what had happened. The effect of the delay is suspense, but even more importantly the focus on the good commander, who is in such a hurry to mitigate the worst effects of the disaster that it is as if he does not give the writer time to describe it until he at last comes to rest. Agesilaus continues to protect the morale of his troops when he leads the army back past Mantinea at night to prevent them being obliged to ‘gaze on’ the Mantineans ‘rejoicing in their misfortune’ (4.5.18) We can compare the story of Cyrus' reaction to bad news before the battle of Cunaxa (An. 1.8.1–6) where there is another messenger on another heavily sweating horse (ἀνὰ κράτοϛ ἱδρω̑ντι τῳ̑ ἵππῳ). It is Pategyas, a worthy member of Cyrus' retinue, who comes running at top speed to announce the bad news of the approach of the king's army, but this messenger, instead of remaining silent and grim and leaving us in suspense as in the story of Agesilaus above, cries out the news ‘in Greek and Persian’ to anyone who will listen, and thus creates a panic reaction, which Cyrus must then control. To make this more dramatic, Xenophon produces a contrast between success and disaster as he did in the story of Agesilaus when he tells us that Cyrus was proceeding on his journey ‘in a careless way’, in a chariot with few guards, because he thought the king was not going to attack, while the bulk of the army was proceeding ‘in disorder’ and were not even carrying their weapons (1.7.20). It is into this disorder that the (p.202) messenger comes racing, just as he came racing into the midst of Agesilaus' success. In a reaction similar to that of Agesilaus also, Cyrus leaps down from his chariot onto his horse, takes up his spears, and orders the others to arm themselves for battle and get into line. He shows his care for his men in making sure that they are armed, whereas Agesilaus showed his care in seeing to it that his captains were fed, but the focus is still on the followers, and this care of them is enhanced when it turns out that while Cyrus encouraged them to look to their own arming, he neglected his own and went helmetless into battle (1.8.6) to pay the price with his life (1.8.27).22 There is no chance of the leader concealing the bad news in this story, but the greater concern of the leader for his men and their security is still apparent. Others

This topos can involve more simple emotional reaction aside from that of leaders, and in that case a central motif is that of the Homeric ‘laughter and tears’. For instance, when a polis has withstood its enemies: Page 17 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership Then it was possible to see the men seizing each other's hand for their salvation and the women bringing them drink and weeping for joy. Then in very truth ‘laughter through tears’ took hold of all who were there. (Hell. 7.2.9) And again when the Spartans receive the news of the ‘Tearless Victory’: Those in Sparta, they said, on hearing this news, starting with Agesilaus and the elders and the ephors, all wept. This shows how tears seem to belong to joy as well as grief. (Hell. 7.1.32) There are the usual devices, such as the call to visualize the first scene (‘it was possible to see’) and the affirmation of report (‘they said’) in the second. The ‘smiling through tears’ captures the release from danger. The orderly sequence of weeping among the Spartans reveals their characteristic self‐control even in joy: taking their beginning (p.203) from the king reflects his position in the battle field also, where ‘everything begins from the king’ (RL 13.11: καὶ ἄρχονται μὲν πάντεϛ ἀπὸ βασιλέωϛ). The other scene has a pathetic effect in the introduction of the womenfolk: the men engage in manly salutations after the victory; but they break down when they see the women coming to give them drink.

3. The Paidikos Logos Xenophon also creates a topos that he calls a paidikos logos in a Persian context (Cyr. 1.4.27–8) and counts among ‘stories about ephebes and hunts and horses and boys’ in a Spartan context (Hell. 5.3.20).23 He exploits such stories for revelations about the characters of leaders in their relations with the boy‐loves. They show leaders fighting desire, receiving love, and looking to the interests of their friends. The formulaic elements are the ruler and the lovely boy and their exchanges, not only of kisses, but of gifts and of dialogue too. These stories have the literary characteristic of ‘charm’ as well as charm in their content. Agesilaus and Megabates

The story that Xenophon tells about Agesilaus' attraction to the Persian boy Megabates in Agesilaus 5.4–7 might have been among those ‘stories of boys’ that Agesilaus shared with Agesipolis and others.24 The kiss of a lovely boy is the focus, in this case the Persian kiss that is a mark of honour among Persians of equal rank (Herodotus Histories 1.134). The catch in this story is that from the Greek point of view it is dangerously erotic as well as honorific. Xenophon introduces the story by commenting how much he admired Agesilaus' control of his passion for the boy and establishes that he did in fact lust for him in order to make his resistance all the more admirable. The narrative then (p.204) briefly describes how Megabates offered the kiss, Agesilaus refused it, Megabates interpreted that as a mark of dishonour and no longer approached him, Agesilaus asked a friend to ask Megabates to show him honour again, his friend tells him that this can only mean the kiss. Agesilaus then declares that he would Page 18 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership not kiss the boy even if it made him overnight the loveliest, swiftest, and strongest man in the world, but he does wish very much to fight the battle against the kiss again; it is to him preferable to any amount of gold he might acquire (from real battle). Xenophon ends the story with further evaluation of his self‐control, as we have seen. Agesilaus here fights against the kiss and the passion it inspired according to the expectation that ideal leaders must rise above such temptations, and not just from boys (Mem. 2.1.4–5, 1.3.8–15). Multiple passages from Xenophon's works indicate that self‐control is the prime requirement of the commander and this included sexual passion. Socrates instructed Xenophon himself about the dangers of the kiss of lovely boys for the inexperienced and uncontrolled at Memorabilia 1.3.8–15. Critobulus there has kissed the very beautiful son of Alcibiades and Xenophon saw no danger in it and a lot of pleasure besides, but Socrates tells him in exaggerated language how completely dangerous and reckless that is, comparing the kiss of those who are beautiful to the poisonous bite of a spider. Even from a distance the sting is felt, and the best solution to that threat is to run a mile, Socrates says, or spend a year overseas. Cyrus the Great

The kiss story of Cyrus and his Median relative (1.4.27–8) is another paidikos logos that characterizes a leader in a different way by bringing out his essential attractiveness to others as a boy, and it prepares the way for how he will have willing followers when he grows up. In fact the man in this story who is so keen on Cyrus' kiss turns up in the later narrative in the role of faithful follower (6.1.9). This story takes place when Cyrus is about to depart from Media and is receiving the farewell kisses of his kinsmen in the Persian manner. Everyone is in tears (1.4.25–6). The Median, described as a kaloskagathos, who had long admired his beauty, observes the kissing and announces that he is (p.205) a relative too. Cyrus suggests perhaps ingenuously that this is why he has often seen him ‘eyeing’ him—a rare word in his vocabulary—and the man explains that he has been too abashed to approach him before. ‘That was not necessary,’ says Cyrus, ‘if you are a relative’. Cyrus gives him his kiss and explains to him that Persian kinsmen kiss particularly when they ‘see each other after some time or leave each other for a period of time’. The charm of the rest of the story plays on the definition of this period of time. The Mede first insists immediately on another kiss—the kiss of parting; evidently his first kiss was that of greeting. He then leaves but soon returns to Cyrus, his horse in a sweat, a formulaic indicator of excessive speed, provoking Cyrus to ask him whether he has forgotten to tell him something? No, he is simply returning and meeting up with Cyrus again ‘after some time’—to get another kiss. Cyrus notes laconically that his period of absence has been rather short, but the Mede swears it has been long indeed: even the wink of an eye, he says, is a long time when he does not see Cyrus. Cyrus laughs amidst the tears he has been crying because of his departure, but

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership assures his relative he will see him in a short time soon, so he can look upon him ‘without blinking his eye’. Literary Features

These stories have common content and common literary features as well, which may be summed up as the ‘charm’ for which Xenophon was noted in antiquity. The ancient critic Demetrius classifies literary charm in terms of subject matter and style (On Style 128ff.). He included as charming content witticisms and all things beautiful, like the Graces themselves; he was perhaps too reserved to mention young boys and their charming kisses, but Xenophon's constant description of them as ‘lovely’ qualifies them for inclusion. Demetrius likens Xenophon to Homer for producing charm by lightening up serious subject matter, and he cites his treatment of the all too serious Aglaitadas at the party in Cyropaedia (134ff.).25 He calls this a (p.206) most effective form of charm because the writer proves to have such craft that he can make a joke even of unpromising material. One of the forms of this lightening is ‘laughter through tears’, which is what Xenophon achieves in the story of Cyrus, who is made to laugh through the tears he is shedding for his departure by the passion of his suitor. We see another version of the charm produced by the blending of the serious and the light‐hearted in Hiero's remark about the ‘quarrels and battles’ with his boyfriends (Hiero 1.35): ‘Sweet are the shared glances, sweet the questions and sweet the answers, and sweetest and most touched by love the quarrels and the fights’, and again in Agesilaus' military metaphor: ‘he fought mightily against the kiss’. Agesilaus' comment that self‐control is worth more than beauty or strength or speed may have a charm of its own in view of what we know about his lame leg and small stature. Demetrius comments also on the style of writing as well as the content that produces charm, e.g. 137, the charm of the light and rapid touch rather than the laboured explanation, which he exemplifies from Xenophon's comment on the pierced ears of the Lydian (An. 3.1.31), and 139, the special charm of the unexpected last item in lines from Xenophon such as: ‘Cyrus gave him gifts that are considered most royal by the king: a horse with a gold bridle and a gold necklace and bracelets and a golden dagger and a Persian costume and that his land no longer be plundered’ (An. 1.2.27).26 Xenophon makes a special feature of the charm of the light touch in the exchanges of dialogue that are part of the stories of love, for instance in the remarkable exchange between Agesilaus and the son of Parapita below. Cyrus' response when the relative says he has returned after a time has this same charm: ‘I swear, relative, a short time only!’ We find another instance of charm in the rare word he uses for blinking in that story of the relative's love (Demetrius 144): ἀσκαρδαμυκτί. Xenophon uses the verbal form again in the context of love at Symposium 4.24, where a lover who previously looked on his beloved with a stony stare suitable for viewing the Gorgons has finally just now ‘blinked’ (σκαρδαμύξαντα).

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership (p.207) Agesilaus and the Son of Pharnabazus

All this charm as well as other formulaic features can be seen in another version of the paidikos logos that illustrates the leader's care for the boys he befriended and his assistance to them in their own relations with other boys. After Agesilaus has concluded his negotiations for alliance with the Persian satrap Pharnabazus, the son of Pharnabazus, who is described as ‘still in the loveliness of youth (καλὸϛ ἔτι ὢν)’, and as ‘the son of Parapita’ (perhaps a particularly beautiful woman?), runs up to him after the meeting with his father in order to establish formal guest‐friendship (Hell. 4.1.39–40). They do not kiss, but they exchange words of charming brevity: ‘I make you, Agesilaus, my guest friend.’ ‘I receive your gift.’ ‘Remember then.’

The charm takes on more significance when in spite of the briefness of their acquaintance and their words, Agesilaus subsequently showed great concern for his young friend and cared very closely for the boy's interest, and this is the point of the story. His brother deprived him of his rule and exiled him when Pharnabazus was away, and Agesilaus supported him in this period especially. Xenophon lightly passes over his serious political support for him (‘he cared for him in other ways’) to focus on the favour he did him in a love affair in securing the entry of his boy‐beloved, the son of the Athenian Eualces, ‘the tallest of the boys’ into the Olympic stadion race. This confirms what Xenophon says of the king at Agesilaus (8.1): ‘It is worthy not to pass over his affability (τὸ εὔχαρι); he had honour and power and kingship, not threatened but admired, but one did not see loftiness in him, but love and care or friends, even if one did not go looking for it; he took part in stories about boys (μετει̑χε μὲν ἥδιστα παιδικω̑ν λόγων) with the greatest pleasure and he was zealous in pursuing whatever was necessary for his friends’. There is charm not only in the economy of their exchange of dialogue but also in the beauty of the gifts they exchange, which in a certain way takes the place of the kiss in the other stories: the boy gives a spear (‘a beautiful one’: καλόν) and Agesilaus gives a ‘completely beautiful’ horse bridle (p.208) (πάγκαλα), taking this from the horse of his secretary Idaeus. The provenance of the gift is a light touch that suggests that Agesilaus' horse has no such ornament, and that he has in the cliché of good leadership ornamented his followers more than he ornaments himself and is therefore able to call on the wealth of his friends as his treasure chests for whatever he needs. Such lack of ornament would be typical of the man whose house, Xenophon tells us in Agesilaus 8.7, was an example of the most antique kind of cheapness and simplicity.27 As usual with Xenophon, great friendship and leadership is found in the small action, and we have a piece of historical gold (Agesilaus' relations with Persian potentates) passing through our hands so lightly that it is almost lost.

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership Stories of Violence to Young Boys

In his Socratic works Xenophon regularly presents the ideal relationship between boys and their lovers as a willing spiritual friendship. When Hiero examines the ruler's relations with his boy‐loves as a source of unhappiness to the ruler, for instance (Hiero 1.26–38), he laments his lack of satisfaction because he has no desire for what is at hand, and boys are always at hand because he has such power in the polis to coerce obedience from their bodies; and he concludes that what he needs is a relationship ‘with friendship from one who is willing’ (μετὰ μὲν ϕιλίαϛ καὶ παρὰ βουλομένου). ‘To take pleasure in hurting one who is loved and to be hated while loving and to lay hold of one who resents it, how is that not a hard and difficult experience?’ Simonides suggests that he will achieve these relations when Hiero becomes the kind of ruler who wins willing obedience: ‘you would not have to make assaults on lovely boys, but endure being assaulted by them’ (11.11). The same thought informs Socrates' lecture on the erastes/eromenos friendship in Symposium, where Socrates contrasts the spiritual love of a ‘willing’ partnership with one based on force that leads to loathing: ‘We know that no relation is worthwhile without friendship ἄνευ ϕιλίαϛ. The compulsion to love among those who admire the soul is pleasant and willing, but many of those who desire bodies blame their manners (p.209) and hate their beloveds’ (8.13). He indicates that Callias as a lover of Autolycus can be inspired by their partnership to become a leader of the Athenians (8.27‐30). According to this understanding of ideal relations as a willing partnership, in narratives also, Xenophon uses the boy's willing devotion to his leader/lover to indicate the leader's excellence, for instance when the παιδικά of the Spartan commander Anaxibius remains at his side to die with him in spite of Anaxibius' command that everyone should flee to safety (Hell. 4.8.38–9). This small story crosses the formula of the paidikos logos with the formulaic scene of willing obedience even unto death and finds its parallel in the devotion of Artapatas to Cyrus the Younger (An. 1.8.28–9). But another two paidikoi logoi involve ‘tyrannical’ violence toward a beautiful boy. Hellenica 6.4.37 describes the relations of Alexander of Pherae with his boy in order to reflect his style of leadership and to explain why his wife had him murdered. He maltreats the boy and then kills him out of spite: ‘Some said that when he put his own boy‐love in bonds, though being a lovely young man (παιδικά, νεανίσκον καλόν), when his wife asked him to release him, Alexander took him out and slaughtered him.’ The alternative reason for the murder is that he was wooing another woman because his wife was barren. These alternatives show Alexander in his relations with boys as well as with women to be a tyrant who feels no affection even for his nearest and dearest friends: neither for the boy himself nor the wife who pleads for his release; this is consistent with his earlier characterization as a brigand, which is the description Hiero uses as a metaphor of bad relations with boy‐loves (Hiero 1.36). His subsequent murder Page 22 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership must then be counted among the disastrous outcomes of the lack of friendship of any kind within the houses of tyrants that are vividly described at Hiero 3.6–9.28 The other version concerns a potential violence to the boy that is prevented by the lover, and it has special interest because it characterizes Xenophon himself and re‐arranges all the elements in the story of Alexander above (An. 7.4.7–11). Here, Seuthes the Thracian has employed the Ten Thousand to recover his father's territories and (p.210) he is on the rampage. The story beginning introduces the lover: ‘Episthenes was an Olynthian man, a lover of boys…’29 We then have the lovely boy, just on the brink of manhood (παι̑δα καλὸν ἡβάσκοντα ἄρτι), holding a shield, but about to be killed. Episthenes sees him and runs to Xenophon and begs him to assist the boy. Xenophon then goes to Seuthes and asks him to spare the boy for Episthenes, because Episthenes is of good character and has formed a brigade of boys like this one, on the sole grounds that they are lovely, and with these at his side has performed as a ‘good man’. A brief and charming dialogue follows. Seuthes asks, ‘Would you be willing, Episthenes, to die in this boy's place?’ He offered his neck in response and said, ‘Strike if the boy commands and if he will be grateful for it’. Seuthes then asked the boy whether he should kill Episthenes in his stead. The boy did not allow that but asked that he kill neither of them. Episthenes then embraces the boy and says, ‘Time, Seuthes for you to fight me for him. I'm not letting the boy go.’ Seuthes laughed and let them both go. The literary characteristics in this story are the regular ones: conversations between Episthenes and Xenophon, Seuthes and Xenophon, and Episthenes and Seuthes and the boy; the contrast also between the light and the dark, between murderous intent becoming laughter, and warfare being lightened by love. The dialogue is short, light, touching, and economical. It also manipulates a larger cast of characters than most. Episthenes is the lover and Seuthes is the ruler. Xenophon is an intermediary, who negotiates the beloved boy's release and brings him together with Episthenes. The intermediary in the story of Alexander of Phera is the wife, but she failed to prevent the violence to the boy. There are figures who count as intermediaries between the ruler and the boy also in the stories of Megabates (the friend who is to persuade the boy to honour Agesilaus again) and of the son of Parapita (Idaeus, the man who provides the bridle). Agesilaus served as intermediary for the son of Parapita too by showing favour to his Athenian boy on his behalf. This negotiation (p.211) of partnerships is like the ‘procuring’ of lovers in philosophy that is credited to philosophers such as Socrates and Antisthenes in Symposium 4.56–64, 8.5. There is the prospect of carnal relations between Episthenes and his boys, but the focus in the story is on the excellence to which they inspire him, which makes it resemble the spiritual partnership of Autolycus and Callias in Symposium. Episthenes' expectation of gratitude from the boy, and the boys' reciprocating concern certainly point to the spiritual basis of the partnership they will form. Seuthes' motivation in letting the boy go could be the tyrant's unpredictable pleasure perhaps, or his Page 23 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership bafflement at such a display of affection. Xenophon's motivation is even more interesting. On the face of it he reacts emotionally to Episthenes' emotional appeal about a beautiful boy, but he is also doing a favour for a man who is inspired by his boys to good service, and revealing in that his own concern for Episthenes as a good sort of follower and friend. This version of the paidikos logos will become important when we come to the love story in the trial of Sphodrias below. Conclusion

Xenophon creates images of leadership in the narrative topoi examined above, and they seem to be his inventions. He achieves a memorable and instructive effect as well as a pleasurable one through manipulation of their formulaic elements and skilful writing. They are different in their content from Homer, and from Herodotus and Thucydides. Those writers have no formulaic scenes of willing obedience. Herodotus presents Themistocles' manipulation of ‘changing the bad news to good’ but does not make a formula of it: 8.79–81; Thucydides describes how the Athenians received the news of the defeat Syracuse (8.1–4), but his interests are not in ideal command. Symposiastic literature could accommodate the paidikos logos; but there are no such stories in Herodotus and Thucydides' account of the love of the Athenian tyrant Hipparchicus for Harmodius (6.54–9) has neither the charm nor the grace of Xenophon's stories.30

(p.212) 4. The Unjust Acquittal and the Offensive Subordinate In the topoi above Xenophon is straightforward in the messages he sends about leadership as long as his communities of expectation are considered. The next two patterns are much more complex in their structures and they present moral dilemmas involving relations between leaders and followers, and between leaders. Some of them have been subject to readings that find them to be projecting negative images of leadership, and this may be a product of their focus on moral dilemmas, where there is some potential for negativity to be found; in spite of this, Xenophon's messages remain firm and clear and positive. Xenophon is at his most Herodotean in these pieces, even though his messages and his patterns and motifs are entirely his own.

A. The Leader's Greater Justice in the ‘Unjust’ Acquittal I referred to the possibility of explaining one version of a formulaic scene by reference to another in the reactions to the leadership of Cyrus and Clearchus above. The trial of Sphodrias in Hellenica 5.4.22–33 is a significant instance of this, because the recognition that it runs according to a formula creates a horizon of expectation that allows us to reach interpretations of the action that are not otherwise apparent. Sphodrias had damaged Spartan interests by making an unauthorized invasion of Attica when serving in the field as their officer, apparently as a result of Page 24 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership bribes he accepted from the Thebans (5.4.20–1). The damage arose from the subsequent alienation of the Athenians and their alliance with the Thebans that it caused, in the formation of their Second Confederacy (signalled at 5.4.34), which is what the Thebans had intended. Sphodrias was put on trial at Sparta for this apparently straightforward crime, but he was acquitted. The story Xenophon tells (p.213) focuses on King Agesilaus, who secured the acquittal, apparently in response to the request of his son Archidamus, who was the erastes of Cleonymus, the son of Sphodrias. Cleonymus had asked Archidamus to save his father by making an appeal to Agesilaus, and this paidikos logos is a subplot in the story. Commentators say that Agesilaus perverted the course of justice because of his son, putting family ahead of public interest. This is certainly how Plutarch presented the episode in his own Life of Agesilaus 24–5. Another negative impression is that the acquittal shows that Agesilaus wanted to make friends of everyone in Sparta so that he could dominate their policies by patronizing the opposition, and that this is why he worked for the acquittal.31 The more positive reading is that Agesilaus tempers the strict demands of justice with mercy and produces more advantage to the common good than punishment because this is the way of the good leader. This is based on the recognition that the trial runs according to a formula of Xenophon's creation, in which a leader does not press the requirements of legal justice because they do not serve higher justice. This account of the acquittal of Sphodrias does open with the remark that: ‘this seemed to many to be the most unjust verdict ever reached at Sparta’, but that view is the perspective of characters (‘the many’) in Xenophon's story.32 In fact Xenophon's formula regularly raises the idea of blame in this way only in order to dismiss it, just as in his (p.214) apologetic evaluations he raised the question of the lack of greatness in his material, only to prove it great. It turns out that negative perspectives on the crime, like apologies for the material, are a regular part of the formula, and that the author does not share them. In drawing attention to this perception among some characters Xenophon is saying: ‘I know this will seem to many to be unjust, but consider what the reasons for the verdict really were and you will change your opinion’. In this way he urges his readers to think about the nature of justice, which for Xenophon as a Socratic was of the utmost importance. The view that there is sometimes a need to override the requirements of legal justice to secure a greater justice is analysed in Aristotle, who confronts legal justice with what he calls epieikeia, which waives the letter of the law in favour of that higher kind of justice. This ‘equity’ is called for when the generality of written law comes up against the case that does not fit the written rule (Nicomachean Ethics 5.10 1137a 31–1138b3 = 5.10). Aristotle argues that ἐπιεικεία is a form of justice that acts as a corrective to legal justice. ‘Equity’ is to make the decision that the lawmaker would have made if he had known of the Page 25 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership exception that the case in question suggests. The equitable man is therefore one who does not insist on the letter of the law, but is willing to accept defeat though he has the law on his side. Xenophon is anticipating Aristotle and pointing us to this higher justice in the story of Cyrus the Great, who judged judicial cases as part of his Persian education system. In one of these he acquits a big boy who took from a smaller boy a shirt that was too big for him and left in its place his own smaller shirt, which fitted the smaller boy (Cyr. 1.3.16–17). The Persian schoolmaster punished Cyrus for not observing the letter of the law, but Cyrus played the advantage rule. It was legally just to punish the boy because he had taken the shirt without permission, but his waiving of the letter of the law produced a higher justice for both, in that both were now properly fitted. In that case his school teacher beats Cyrus out of that view, insisting that justice is lawfulness and lawlessness is violence, and this is the legal kind of justice that he says that he learned from his beating.33 We shall see in the trials we examine (p.215) now Xenophon's own thought that insisting on the letter of the law can disadvantage the community, and that this is as much an injustice as the original crime. The boys in Persia prove to be a microcosm of the larger communities in Persia as well as Greece. Aristotle goes on from his consideration of equity to consider whether a man can wrong himself voluntarily. This is also part of Xenophon's thought about crime and punishment. The formula in which Xenophon's equivalent of epieikeia prevails over legal justice, and which can already be seen in the judgement on the shirt, has the following common stages or elements: 1. An important individual's admitted crime against the common good. 2. A general perspective from his community that it deserves punishment. 3. A king's mercy that waives the letter of the law in favour of mercy. 4. The spared criminal reciprocates, giving service in return for forgiveness, which rehabilitates him into his community. In the case of the shirt we have the formula in embryo, in the original theft (1), the school teacher's view that it should be punished (2) and Cyrus' application of a higher than legal justice (3), but the desired rehabilitation does not occur because his judgement was overruled by those in authority. I now examine four versions of the topos in which all stages are present. The pattern is Xenophon's own creation. We see here a Cyrus who is no longer constrained by the narrow views of his teachers. Cyrus and Araspas

The first version is the story of Cyrus' acquittal of Araspas contrary to the expectations of strict justice in Cyropaedia 6.1.31–9.34 One of the features of the formula is that the acquittal can be secured behind the scenes in an informal way as well as by legal process; this probably (p.216) reflects the reality of the

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership ancient world. Xenophon fits his versions to his formula without unduly distorting the political realities at least as far as we understand them. 1. The Admitted Crime

The crime of Araspas is that he threatened violence to the woman Panthea, who had been entrusted to him by Cyrus for safekeeping (5.1.17: ‘Guard her in the best way as I bid you and look after her, for perhaps the woman might be very opportune for us’). His threat of violence did the same damage to Persian interests as Sphodrias' threatened invasion of Attica did to Spartan ones: Panthea was a captive of war, the wife of Abradatas, and Cyrus depended on her good‐will to secure an alliance with her husband.35 The actual invasion of land by Sphodrias, making it hostile, here becomes the threatened invasion of the woman, whose hostility might ruin the potential alliance Cyrus had in mind. It is interesting that in the cases of Sphodrias as well as Araspas, their invasions were aborted before completion. Xenophon tells the story of Araspas' being entrusted with the woman right after Panthea has been taken captive, and goes on to tell of how this young man was taken with her beauty. Already in this part of the story Cyrus shows the understanding of the power of passion that will provoke his eventual mercy, and Xenophon shows the same compassion toward what he sees as a very human failing (‘he was taken with lust, and perhaps he suffered nothing out of the ordinary’). His lapse of behaviour was also a fall from pride: Araspas had professed himself above the temptations of lust, even though Cyrus had told him that it was a force against which there could be no victory. This is the view also expressed in Agesilaus 5.4. But Xenophon delays the rest of the story until the moment when Cyrus wants to send a spy into enemy territory and finds Araspas most suitable for the mission. We learn now that Araspas had threatened to violate Panthea if she did not meet his desires, and Panthea had sent Cyrus a message advising him of Araspas' behaviour. Cyrus' response (p.217) was then to laugh at the man who had professed himself above lust. He sent Araspas a message of warning not to force himself on her, but allowing him to win her affection willingly if he wished. He sent this message via Artabazus. 2. The General Perspective

Unfortunately Artabazus seems to have made no mention of Cyrus' advice when he took this message to Araspas. He offered instead his own negative perspective on what Araspas had done, abusing him, calling the woman a deposit left with him for safekeeping,36 accusing him therefore of impiety, because of the nature of the trust, and of injustice because he had wronged Cyrus, and of lack of control because of his approaches to the woman. ‘It seemed indeed to him that an injustice had been committed’, we might say. These negative perspectives on the crime are part of the pattern, they establish that in Page 27 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership the common view the leader would have been perfectly justified in punishing the criminal severely and thus become the standard against which the leader's eventual restraint and forgiveness are to be measured.37 On hearing this abuse, Araspas wept copious tears, collapsed for shame, and nearly died of fear (ἀπολωλέναι τῳ̑ ϕόβῳ) in anticipation of what Cyrus might do—he presumably thought that the abuse he was hearing came from Cyrus. 3. The Mercy Shown

Yet when Cyrus heard what had happened, he spoke with Araspas one to one (μόνοϛ μόνῳ) and told him not to fear; he in fact claimed responsibility for the crime himself, because he had exposed the young man to the woman's beauty as her guard; after all, she was the most beautiful woman in Asia and was an ‘irresistible force’ (p.218) τῳ̑ ἀμάχῳ πράγματι. This is also Socrates' message in Memorabilia 1.3.8–14. Araspas has learned the lesson the hard way. Araspas then recognized Cyrus as ‘gentle and forgiving of human failings’ in these matters and others: πρᾷόϛ τε καὶ συγγνώμων τω̑ν ἀνθρωπίνων ἀμαρτημάτων, and he contrasted his mercy with the punishing perspective of his enemies. He said that when news got round of what he had done, his enemies rejoiced in his discomfort, and even his friends told him to flee from Cyrus on the grounds that he had committed a very great wrong ὡϛ ἠδικηκότοϛ ἐμου̑ μεγάλα. The perspectives of both friends and enemies reinforce the justification of punishment that was belied by the king's mercy.38 The messenger could not apparently control his anger against Araspas in giving him his own negative perspective on the crime. 4. The Rehabilitation and the Common Good

The final feature of the story is that as a result of absolving Araspas, Cyrus secured better service from him than before, when he had betrayed his trust. This version of the formula has a surprising elaboration when compared with other versions—for it is the negative perspective of all the other characters on his crime that makes his service possible. The best way to infiltrate the enemy, as Herodotus' Zopyrus had proven, was to pretend to be a deserter. Araspas was an ideal person to pretend to be a deserter not only because he was willing to serve Cyrus because of his mercy, but also because the negative perspectives of the Persians on his crime made them easily believe he was in fact a deserter, meaning there was no chance of an intelligence leakage. There was no risk either that the enemy would think that Araspas was not deserting when his personal friends and enemies shared that perspective. There was none who did not think that he would desert to avoid the punishment they expected from Cyrus and Araspas helps this deception along by laying a false trail (6.1.39–44). (p.219) The rehabilitation of the perceived criminal into the community emerges in a subsequent scene in which Cyrus welcomes Araspas back warmly from his highly successful intelligence mission. The other Persians were amazed Page 28 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership ‘as was natural since they knew nothing’—until Cyrus revealed the truth of what had happened and told them to honour Araspas as an excellent man who had worked ‘for your good’ and had gone through danger and borne an accusation that had lain heavy on him. He was then warmly welcomed back among those who previously condemned his wrong (6.3.14–16).39 It seems that in his maturity Cyrus is able to implement his understanding of higher justice without being abused by his teacher and to the general satisfaction of his Persian followers for their common good. We can see an intermediate stage in which he learns to theorize the argument that led him instinctively to his judgement about the shirt when we consider another version of this formula in his trial of the Armenian king. Cyrus and the Armenian King

The longest version of the pattern indeed reveals how Cyrus theorized the superiority of higher justice over legal justice.40 It concerns the Armenian king who wrongs Cyaxares by no longer sending troops or tribute as required by the terms of his alliance. Xenophon foreshadows the rehabilitation of this criminal in an ironic way even before the trial, when Cyrus first volunteers to go and make him meet his obligations of alliance, which he presents to Cyaxares as his intention to ‘make him a better friend to us than he is now’ (2.4.14). This prediction comes true in an unexpected way when after the trial Cyrus realizes that he has achieved his promise to Cyaxares and has indeed made him a better friend than before—not by punishing him, which is what Cyaxares seemed to foreshadow, but by forgiving him and restoring him to his kingdom (3.1.31). What promotes the endorsement of the (p.220) higher kind of justice that secures rehabilitation is Cyrus' instruction in the theory of justice at the hands of Tigranes, the son of the criminal. Cyrus gains the upper hand over the Armenian king in his campaign, and he then brings him to trial. As in the trial of Orontas below, he summons the leaders of the Medes and Persians and eminent persons among the Armenians and lets the king's relatives listen too, including the women and the children. From the outset Xenophon reminds us what the formula is about. Cyrus warns the king to speak the truth in the process of justice (ἐν τῃ̑ δίκῃ̑) or he will not get ‘sympathy’ (συγγνώμη) juxtaposing the two concepts of strict justice and compassion that are involved (3.1.9). Cyrus questions the king and obliges him to agree that he warred against Astyages, was defeated, and made an ally under conditions that included tribute and not building fortifications in his country; but he has now rebelled. He says that he did this in a desire for freedom, and Cyrus asks him what he would do to a subject who rebelled for this reason. The king replies he would punish him and then in response to further questions indicates that he would depose him, strip him of his wealth, and kill him if he had encountered such insubordination. He admits himself then that he deserves the death penalty (3.1.9–12). This admission of guilt is a regular part of the pattern Page 29 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership in other versions. As is usual in the pattern too, there is an abundance of negative perspective on the outcome. When they hear his admission, his son Tigranes tears off his tiara and rips his clothing, while the women wail and mourn as if the king is alread dead and themselves along with him (3.1.13). Cyrus then asks this audience to advise him about what he should do. Tigranes seeks permission to speak and Cyrus recalls that when they hunted together, there was a ‘sophist’ who kept them company and was much admired by Tigranes; so that it is in expectation of some wisdom that Cyrus now listens to Tigranes (3.1.14). We hear more of this sophist later and his Socratic nature, but meanwhile Tigranes reveals the wisdom he must have learned from the sophist when in dialogue he teaches Cyrus not to execute his father, but to show mercy. There are four main parts to his argument that mercy will bring him more advantage than the strict justice of the death penalty: that it is wrong for a man to behave in a way that damages his own interests, and that strict justice would (p.221) damage Cyrus' interests because it would deprive him of a potentially rehabilitated ally; that his father's fear, as a confessed criminal at Cyrus' mercy, is already a heavier punishment than any he might care to inflict (this is like the fear to which Araspas was subject, which almost killed him without Cyrus needing to); that the king's defeat by Cyrus at this time has taught him not to rise against men who are better than him in the future; and that if he is spared, his gratitude will make him keener to serve in the future than in the past (3.1.15–30).41 Tigranes seems to advance the theory of self‐knowledge credited to Xenophon's Socrates in the conversation with Euthydemus at Memorabilia 4.2.24–9, which Croesus also learns after he has been defeated by Cyrus.42 In response to this instruction, Cyrus confirms the Armenian in his kingship. The king meets his obligations of alliance thereafter (3.1.42) and reveals the full accomplishment of his friendship at 3.2.14. All stages of the pattern are present and correct. There is another judicial process in the larger story of the trial that casts light on the main story and this involves the sophist mentioned above. After the acquittal of his father, Cyrus asked Tigranes what has happened to the teacher he used to admire and discovers that Tigranes' father has executed him on the grounds that he was ‘corrupting’ (διαϕθείρειν) his son by taking his affection away from him. This is the charge of corruption against Socrates at Memorabilia 1.2.49–55: that Socrates taught sons to dishonour their fathers and honour him instead on the grounds that he was useful to them while their fathers were not. Xenophon has indeed introduced a Socrates in Armenia into the story.43 Tigranes adds that the teacher had shown an even greater mercy to his father the king than Cyrus had, since he (p.222) had told Tigranes not even to be angry with his father for his execution because it was done out of ignorance (ἄγνοια) and therefore was not criminal; this is recognizable Socratic doctrine. The king intervenes to explain that he put the teacher to death as he would an adulterer, because he was alienating his son's friendship (ϕιλία). Cyrus' response is very similar to his Page 30 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership response to the crime of Araspas, that his crime is forgivable because the impulse toward it was his very human desire to retain his son's affection, and he urges Tigranes to forgive him as the teacher did (3.1.40 ὠ̑ Αρμένιε, ἀνθρωπινά μοι δοκει̑ϛ ἁμαρτει̑ν, καὶ σὺ, ὠ̑ Τιγράνη, συγγιγνώσκε τῳ̑ πατρί).44 Xenophon has inserted this story to show that Cyrus forgave the king for yet another crime and urged his son to show the same mercy, to contrast with this the Armenian king's lack of humanity and perhaps also his ignorance in executing the teacher; and also perhaps to show how Xenophon himself felt towards those fathers of sons who had executed his own teacher Socrates on the grounds that he corrupted them, and thereby to demonstrate that his values were the same as those of his hero Cyrus. The introduction of the criminal's son to plead for his father appears to be a unique feature of this version of the pattern, but we find something very similar in the story of Sphodrias, which introduces the sons of both the criminal and the leader, who in the same manner as Tigranes argue for acquittal and mercy of the criminal. We will examine that soon, but not before a brief examination of a trial in which the concern for legal justice had been waived, but in which the criminal had persisted in his wrongdoing. Cyrus the Younger and Orontas

The trial and execution of the Persian Orontas in Anabasis 1.6 by Cyrus the Younger is another example of the mercy shown to Araspas and the Armenian by his namesake ancestor.45 Orontas is executed on this occasion, but this is because he has proven himself to be (p.223) beyond redemption or rehabilitation: it is not the first or even the second time that he has betrayed his alliance to Cyrus, but the third, and he has been forgiven by Cyrus on both of the previous two occasions. The story begins ‘Orontas, a Persian, related to the king and said to be in matters of war among the best of the Persians, plots against Cyrus, having warred against him previously, and having reached a settlement with him’. Xenophon describes his plans and the interception of a letter that revealed this third piece of treachery. Cyrus then arrests him and brings him to trial under guard; he is dangerous because of his eminence. He assembles a jury of eminent Persians and Clearchus and he describes Orontas' first rebellion to the group, how he was his subject but warred against him, how he was made to give up the war and how Cyrus solemnly ‘received his right hand pledge and gave it in return’ (1.6.6). In spite of this, Cyrus then describes how provoked by no injustice, Orontas warred against him again and damaged his land, and then again ‘realizing the limits of his power’, he came to the altar of Artemis and ‘persuaded me and gave pledges to me again and received them from me’ (1.6.7). Orontas admits under interrogation to each of his past treacheries one after the other, admitting his crimes as others do in this formula, and like the Armenian king he finally condemns himself to death by answering in the negative Cyrus' rhetorical question whether he could ever be his brother's enemy and Cyrus' friend, given his past record of enmity: his reply is that Cyrus Page 31 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership could never again view him as a friend even if he was one in reality. There is no mercy for Orontas on this third occasion. Cyrus leaves the decision on his guilt to the jury, which includes his own relatives. Xenophon's characterization of Clearchus makes it inevitable that he votes for the death penalty, but so do the rest. In this pattern, mercy is regularly reserved for those who are going to be useful when rehabilitated, and Orontas had proven twice incapable of this rehabilitation. His case shows that the unjust acquittal errs on the side of generosity and in some cases will not produce the desired rehabilitation. The evidence incidentally suggests that the waiving of legal justice was a genuine Persian quality.46 Herodotus (p.224) makes it a feature of Persian judicial practices that they never condemned a man for a first crime: ‘I approve this law as well, that the Persian king does not put a man to death for a single crime, nor do any of the other Persians inflict an ultimate penalty on their own servants’ (1.137). Cyrus goes one further when he waives not just one but two instances of previous crime in Orontas. With this historical example for comparison we return to the historical trial of Sphodrias at Sparta, which shows that the waiving of legal justice is not confined to Persia. Agesilaus and Sphodrias

The perspectives of those who think that Sphodrias will be punished are manifold, as is regular in the formula. First, the Spartan ambassadors in Athens assure their hosts that the Spartans will show they did not authorize his invasion by condemning Sphodrias. Secondly, like the Armenian king, Sphodrias condemned himself, not under interrogation, but by fleeing from the prospect of trial into exile, a more real version of the pretended flight of Araspas (Hell. 5.4.24). Next there are the friends of Sphodrias, who belong to the party of King Cleombrotus: they fear the judgement of King Agesilaus and so do the centrists; ‘for Sphodrias seemed to have done a dreadful thing’ (5.4.25). The same people, seeing that Agesilaus' Archidamus was staying away from his friend Cleonymus, Sphodrias' son, out of shame at not being able to secure the acquittal, reinforce their expectation of condemnation and of abuse: ‘the friends of Sphodrias, seeing that Archidamus was coming no more, when he had come frequently before, were dreadfully afraid that he had been abused by Agesilaus’. Right to the end, where Agesilaus' acquittal comes as a complete surprise to Etymocles, they are convinced that Agesilaus will vote for the death penalty. All this highlights the paradox and independence in their eyes of the king's eventual decision. Agesilaus does not reach his decision without deliberation. As in the case of the trial of the Armenian, Xenophon introduces the criminal's son into the story in order to make a plea for acquittal of his father. This is Cleonymus. In a variation on the pattern, he makes his appeal not to Agesilaus, who is conceived as the final judge like (p.225) Cyrus, but to his son, Archidamus, the future Spartan Page 32 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership king, who serves as intermediary in the story. Xenophon thus produces a doublet of sons where Tigranes was a singleton, developing his patterned narrative in a customary way.47 There is another resemblance between the two stories in a further motif, which is previously friendly relations between the offender's family and the leader's and the impact the crime has on that friendship; for Tigranes had a pre‐existing friendship with Cyrus in hunting though his father had offended in his alliance (3.1.7), and Cleonymus and Archidamus are in a love relationship, though their fathers are at political odds. It is useful to see how Xenophon develops this element. When Tigranes hears of his father's trial, he comes to Cyrus and sees his relatives made captive, and he weeps by himself ‘as was natural’: ἐδάκρυσεν ὥσπερ εἰκόϛ. This is like Archidamus' reaction to the approach of Cleonymus, whose father is in exile, if not yet ‘captive’; but Archidamus out of sympathy ‘wept with Cleonymus, standing at his side’ (5.4.27 συνεδάκρυε παρεστηκώϛ), whereas Cyrus does not weep with Tigranes, but ‘made no sign of friendship’ (οὐδὲν ἐϕιλοϕρονήσατο) and acted coldly toward him because of his father's crime. Cyrus does not have the liberty to feel compassion because he is the final judge. Like Cyrus, Agesilaus also begins by showing no compassion, and there is the illusion of coldness even in Archidamus, when Archidamus feels unable to visit his friend without achieving the acquittal and others interpret this as a breach between them. But in all cases, the initial coldness of strict justice melts into the warmth of the mercy that lies behind such acquittals. The process that leads to the acquittal of Sphodrias mainly consists of the conversation between Archidamus and his father and this conversation is couched in terms of the contrast between ‘sympathy’ and strict ‘justice’ that is central to the formula. Sphodrias asks his son to intervene on his behalf and Cleonymus conveys the request to Archidamus. They weep together. After a lot of hesitation caused by the reverence for his father that he mentions to Cleonymus (‘I am unable even to look my father in the eyes, but when I want to do any business in the polis, I ask all others rather than my father’), a reverence which is demonstrated in the narrative when he allows (p.226) everyone else to speak to his father about their business before himself, including even servants (5.4.28), Archidamus summons up the courage (ἐτόλμησε) to ask his father to acquit Sphodrias. The theme of sympathy, which is already expressed in the relations between the boys, is everywhere in this brief exchange. At his son's first request to acquit Sphodrias, Agesilaus tells his son that he has ‘sympathy’ συγγνώμη for him, but does not know how he would secure such ‘sympathy’ from the Spartans if he did not put to death a man who took bribes from the Thebans, and got rich at Sparta's expense. Archidamus is ‘defeated by the justice’ of this (ἡττηθεὶϛ του̑ δικαίου), raising the regular contrast between legal justice and sympathy in this pattern. Yet he comes back and says this time that he knows Agesilaus would have acquitted Sphodrias if he had been innocent and now should still ‘for our sakes’ spare him out of ‘sympathy’, a word that has now Page 33 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership been repeated three times, and is the word Cyrus used when he asked Tigranes to forgive his father for the execution of his teacher. It is in response to this plea for sympathy, that Agesilaus says he will do it if it is kala for them, the word used of the performance of duties according to the law among the Spartans. Subsequent conversation with Sphodrias' friends then reveals that he has made his decision, and this is also phrased in terms of injustice and sympathy and ta kala—that the ‘injustice’ of Sphodrias is clear cut, but it is ‘harsh’ (the opposite of sympathetic) to put to death one who has in the past completed all the kala that Sparta required of him. The ‘sympathy’ shown by Agesilaus is in character with what Xenophon says of Agesilaus in his encomium, that he treated no fellow citizen as an enemy (7.3), and it brings new meaning to his son's request to acquit him even though he is an enemy.48 Archidamus seems to teach Agesilaus to show mercy in the same way as Tigranes, but he does not directly teach the theory as Tigranes did. The comment that seems to provoke Agesilaus' final decision is Archidamus' final appeal. It is significant that this is introduced by a double motivation: ‘either thinking of it himself or instructed by (p.227) another’ (5.4.31). This is a device Herodotus uses to mark pivotal moments, and the equivalence it produces of ‘instruction’ with native instinct confirms that Archidamus may have an innate feeling for the right thing a wise adviser might otherwise advise him to say. Xenophon's Tigranes is wise because of his instruction by the Armenian Socrates (3.1.38–40); Archidamus' possible source of instruction is left unspoken, but what might be in the mind of the informed reader is Xenophon's own historical association with Agesilaus and his own status as a philosopher, making it quite possible that in real life he himself endorsed the higher justice and taught it to Archidamus, just as the Armenian Socrates taught it to Tigranes. We have seen Xenophon make a reference to Socrates' execution in the story of Cyrus' forgiveness of the king for executing the Armenian Socrates, and some more authorial self‐reference in making Archidamus say the right thing would not be entirely unexpected. Archidamus' comment that Agesilaus would have acquitted Sphodrias if he had done no wrong certainly seems to reflect Xenophon's comment (Hell. 6.5.51): that he does not blame Iphicrates if he managed any other campaign καλω̑ϛ. It seems to establish some confidence that the person making the judgement is not prejudiced. This is significant for Agesilaus because Sphodrias has been described as his political opponent (5.4.25). But it is Archidamus' subsequent appeal to acquit ‘for our sakes’ that is arresting. This seems to substitute a personal concern for the more logical basis for Xenophon's condemnation of Iphicrates or the theory of justice that moves Tigranes' argument. The righteousness of Agesilaus' decision should of course be judged by the outcome of the appeal, which is that, as usual in the formula, Cleonymus and his father are saved for future good service to the common cause of the Spartans. The usual final stage in the pattern is that the spared criminal shows his gratitude and promises future service, but in this variation, it is the Page 34 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership son of the criminal, rather than the criminal himself, who expresses gratitude and promises to deliver future service. Cleonymus indeed goes much further in his service than previous characters in the story because he expresses his gratitude in the extreme sacrifice of his life. Xenophon breaks out of annalistic time in a prolepsis to demonstrate this. He says that Cleonymus is so grateful to Archidamus for the part he played in securing his father's acquittal that he spends his life doing the kala for Sparta, and eventually died at Leuctra, in the forefront of (p.228) his fellow citizens, falling three times, defending King Cleombrotus. It emerges later that his father also fought there, but his father's repayment of favour is not the focus of this version of the acquittal (5.4.33, 6.4.14). The real focus of the story is the relationship between the sons. In judging that appeal ‘for our sakes’ it is useful to notice that there is a subplot of relations between the two boys in this story, the formulaic story paidikos logos, which Xenophon embeds within the formula of the unjust acquittal. Those familiar with patterning in Herodotus will recognize that this embedding is a regular feature. The recognition of this formula throws further light on how readers are encouraged to interpret Agesilaus' sparing of the criminal for the sake of the boys. The story of Cleonymus and Archidamus as it stands is of a lover who secured the interests of his beloved in spite of difficulties. The version of the paidikos logos that is most relevant in interpreting it is the one starring Xenophon himself (An. 7.4.7–11—see above). Here the lover Episthenes seeks to preserve his beloved boy as Archidamus seeks to preserve the interests of Cleonymus, and he goes to Xenophon, and Xenophon then asks Seuthes to spare the boy for the sake of his lover Episthenes, on the grounds that his relations with these boys inspire Episthenes to superior performance of his martial duties. This gives respectability to the idea of sparing someone for the sake of a lover, since Xenophon would presumably not tell a story against himself in Anabasis. Other motifs emerge from the comparison that clarify the reading further. We notice the motif of gratitude in both, for instance. Episthenes says that he will die in his young boy's place if the boy wishes it, and if he will show gratitude for it, and the boy responds by not allowing it. The core definition of friendship of any kind in Xenophon is doing and receiving favour from the partner. Archidamus has shown himself ashamed not to do service for his beloved Cleonymus, but must expect repayment from him as Episthenes expects repayment from the boy he saves. The break in annalistic time allows Xenophon to show us that Cleonymus indeed repays the favour when his father has been acquitted, and it is rendered in conversation too: ‘Know it well, that we will always take pains to see that you are never ashamed on account of our friendship’. And his brave death in battle at Leuctra ‘pained Archidamus dreadfully, but as he promised, he did not shame him, but (p.229) rather was an ornament to him’. Cleonymus and Archidamus therefore play out the rehabilitation that is focused on the criminal and the ruler in the other versions of the story, and the outcome for the common good comes especially in their Page 35 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership generation. We will find that the reconciliation in the subsequent generation of a quarrel between fathers is a feature also of the story of one of the versions the offended king described below. It is an example of recurrent motifs even in entirely different patterns of story. In the case of Episthenes and his boy we can only imagine this future service, but Agesilaus also looks to the future use of young men in the other paidikos logos in which he intervenes to secure the interests of the son of Parapita, his guest‐friend, by making sure that his Athenian boy‐love was entered into the stadion race at Olympia (Hell. 4.1.40). The boy saved by Episthenes was not a criminal, but he was an enemy, and it looks as though the expectation we are to take from these stories is that provided they serve the common good, the granting of a request to save a life on grounds of sentiment combined with the prospect of service is to be admired.49 There is another version of the paidikos logos that is of similar interest for the interpretation of the relations between Archidamus and Cleonymus and between Archidamus and his father in intervening on behalf of his beloved. This is embedded in the story of Cyrus' growth to maturity at Cyropaedia 1.4.12–15, and does not involve a trial, but does involve a request from Cyrus to his grandfather on behalf of other boys that the grandfather is not likely to approve, which is just like Archidamus' request to his father on behalf of his beloved that his father also seems at first unlikely to approve. The formulaic characters can easily be identified. The beloved boy Cleonymus who asks Archidamus to become the intermediary in accessing his father the king in his request for a favour is here represented by the ‘boys’ of Media as a group, who address their request to Cyrus as an intermediary who will gain the approval of his grandfather the king of Media. Cyrus is not their lover since Persia has no homosexual lover relationships, but he represents Archidamus in (p.230) that he is the greatly admired royal son to whom the boys address their request. And of course the King of Media stands in for the King of Sparta. In another variation on the formula, the boys' request is not to spare their fathers as criminals, but to allow them to join in the royal hunt that the king leads. Cyrus has been on a hunt and described the pleasures of the hunt to them and they have asked him to secure the approval of his grandfather for their participation too. The formulaic stages then unfold. Like Archidamus, Cyrus is abashed when the boys ask him to put his request and he describes his reverential fear of his grandfather in the same terms as Archidamus described his reverence for his father: ‘I am not able to speak to him nor able to look him in the eyes on equal terms any more’ (as he had been when younger): οὐδ᾽ ἀναβλέπειν δύναμαι, cf. οὐδ᾽ἀντιβλέπειν δύναμαι'. The boys then provokingly suggest they will have to get someone else to intervene for them since it is a ‘bad matter’ if he cannot do it. Cyrus sees that he will lose estimation in their eyes if this happens and he is described as Archidamus is described: ‘he was pained and went away in silence, telling himself that he must be bold (τολμα̑ν), and working out how he would speak to his grandfather without causing him offence and could achieve for himself and Page 36 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership the boys what they wanted’. His feeling of dishonour explains what Archidamus was feeling at not being able to meet Cleonymus' request. Cyrus then approaches his grandfather and they have a conversation, as Archidamus does with his father in the Sphodrias story. Cyrus does not put his request as bluntly and simply as Archidamus. Instead we have a kind of interrogation that we have in the story of the Armenian king and the trial of Orontas. Cyrus puts to his grandfather the hypothetical question: what would he do if he caught a runaway slave? The answer is that he would chain him and make him work. What if the slave came back of his own accord? He would beat him but use him again as before. Then it is time, says Cyrus, for himself to be beaten because he intends to run away with the boys to the hunt. Thanks for the warning is the reply from his slightly humourless grandfather—I forbid you even to move outdoors; it would be a nice thing, he says, to make a shepherd of his grandchild for the sake of a bit of hunted meat. Cyrus is more oblique than Archidamus then, but the initial rebuff from the father figure is the same in both cases. Cyrus obeyed the order to remain indoors but (p.231) was silent and glum, just as Archidamus was when repulsed by the ‘justice’ of his father. But here there is another variation. Archidamus asked his father again to acquit Sphodrias before his father found a higher kind of justice, but Cyrus does not need to ask again. His grandfather noted his distress and took him to the hunt to please him and the boys as well, and this became his regular habit. It is significantly formulaic that his grandfather is said to have taken them out ‘for the sake of Cyrus’ (Κύρου ἕνεκα); this directly recalls the grounds for Archidamus' final appeal ‘for our sakes’, ἡμω̑ν ἕνεκεν. Here then the grandfather comes directly to the desire to serve Cyrus' interests as Agesilaus is made to come more gradually to the same desire to serve the boys' interests in his story. The common good served by Cyrus is to secure permission for the Persian boys to hunt, and his desire to serve people in other ways is spelled out at the end of the story, in the comment that ‘Cyrus spent most of his time in this fashion: securing pleasure and a certain benefit for all, but nothing in the way of harm’ (1.4.15). To return to the main lines of the nature of the punishment in the stories of the unjust acquittal, this is always educational and rehabilitational. We find another instance of inventive rehabilitation of those who do not attend court in Cyropaedia 8.1.17–20. Instead of punishing them, Cyrus had their possessions seized by another, and when they came seeking justice, he refused to give them an immediate response; he thus made them attend his court waiting for his decision, which was what he desired; they eventually recovered their goods when they became good attenders. He specifically called this treatment an education in correct behaviour (διδασκαλία), and indeed there is always a remedial aspect to the leader's punishment in our formulae. The recognition of the horizons of expectation involved in the formula behind these stories of apparently unjust acquittal presents a challenge to readings that simply criticize the leaders involved. We cannot maintain that the king operates Page 37 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership more in his own interests than those of the common good, when the pattern makes a feature of the future service to that common good, nor can we privilege the punishing perspectives in the stories over the view that the king takes when Xenophon obviously does not. The main point of the stories is to make readers think more deeply about the balance of legal and (p.232) higher justice and how it can operate for the good. Xenophon has Socrates endorse legal justice without such complications in Memorabilia 4.4 perhaps for apologetic purposes, but higher justice was always exceptional and never routine.

B. The Offended King and the Offensive Subordinate The unjust acquittal shares some of its motifs with another pattern of story in which Xenophon presents a confrontation between two leaders, one of higher and one of lower rank, but both with a degree of power. I call this the pattern of the offensive subordinate and the offended king because the man of lesser rank regularly offends the man of higher rank, usually as a result of accident. We can trace the way in which great men offend each other even though they are allies back to Homer's quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles, but Xenophon shows that the men of power and talent called the kaloikagathoi even in the Athenian democracy have an instinct for division and envy as well as unity and friendship with one another that they must manage for their good (Memorabilia 2.6), and he confirms these instincts in the men of power and talent whom Cyrus must win to his friendship for fear of their opposition in Cyropaedia 8.2, and in Hiero, where Simonides advises the ruler to befriend these same men out of similar fear. In the pattern of the offended king there has been a breach of friendship that must somehow be mended. There are three main formulaic stories that study this dilemma: the confrontation of Lysander and Agesilaus in Hellenica 3.4.7–10, the confrontation of Agesilaus and Pharnabazus in Hellenica 4.1.29–41, and the confrontation of Cyrus and Cyaxares in Cyropaedia 5.5.5ff. Their inequalities in rank are variously represented. In their story Agesilaus, though a king in rank, is a newcomer to the cities of Asia, whereas Lysander had previously been their governor, but without the official rank of a king. In Cyropaedia, Cyaxares has the rank of king as Agesilaus does, and Cyrus is a technical inferior in rank, but Cyrus is the true leader because of his knowledge of how to rule. In the story (p. 233) of Agesilaus and Pharnabazus, we have a Spartan king and the Persian satrap of Phrygia, who do not seem obviously unequal in rank and position, but Agesilaus is marked as junior in age. The story involving Cyaxares is of special interest since it has been subject to darker readings, in which Cyrus is said to disempower his uncle through an offence that is deliberately contrived, but the recognition of the story as a formulaic pattern enlightens such readings as it did in the case of the trial of Sphodrias.50

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership The expectations of friendship are our first horizon. We know from Xenophon's theory that the role of a friend is to secure the ‘increase’ of the other by bestowing benefits that conduce to eudaimonia, and these include good things such as material prosperity, spiritual well‐being, or moral condition. In all three stories the offence involves the failure of the lesser member of the partnership to give such ‘increase’ to the other. Lysander's story makes specific mention of the obligation ‘to increase’ the other, and this emerges clearly as the theme in the other stories as well. Lysander and Cyrus offend because their acquisition of the personal following that should by rank belong to the offended king makes them appear ‘greater than the other’; they therefore increase themselves rather than their partners, and this particular kind of offence becomes a motif in the formula. In the third story Agesilaus the subordinate avoids the potential offence in the pattern by deliberately choosing to appear humbler rather than greater; in this case the offence is the simple failure to repay past favours. The basic narrative pattern is as follows: 1. The offence and the meeting. 2. The speech of complaint about the offence. 3. The speech of response to the complaint. 4. The speech of acceptance of the response. 5. Subsequent reconciliation and proof of the friendship of the subordinate. This is how the pattern is manipulated in our examples. (p.234) 1. The Meeting: The Narrative Establishes the Hierarchy, the Friendship, and the Offence

a) Cyaxares was King of the Medes and uncle to Cyrus, the senior therefore in age and rank. They were friends and allies in the war to protect Media against the Assyrian king. In the previous narrative Cyrus has secured a greater following than Cyaxares by winning away his followers when he asked for volunteers from the Medes, and the whole army joined him out of good‐will, adding to the numbers of his own Persians who already followed him (4.2.9–11). This constitutes the offence: ‘Cyrus appears greater than Cyaxares’. Cyaxares had previously shown Cyrus how offended he was by this loss of followers (4.5.8–34). At their meeting he is pained by the now visible contrast between Cyrus' great following and his own mean one: ‘He saw many fine and good followers (ἑπομένουϛ) with Cyrus, but in his own train a small and worthless company (θεραπείαν), and it seemed to him to be a dishonour and he was taken with anguish’ (5.5.6). Cyrus goes to kiss him, but Cyaxares shows that he is offended and gives offence to Cyrus, by refusing his kiss. Cyrus does not retaliate, but takes his right hand and

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership takes him into the shade, he gives him rugs to sit on and sits him down and sits by his side and asks what is wrong.51 b) Agesilaus was King of the Spartans, senior to Lysander in kingly rank. Lysander had been a friend and ally to Agesilaus in securing him his command of the war to liberate the Greeks in Asia. His own intention was to re‐establish ‘with Agesilaus’ the decarchies that he had set up there during the Peloponnesian War, but which the ephors had disestablished (3.4.1–2). Because he was known from previous campaigns in Asia, people thought that he could get their business done with Agesilaus if they worked through him: (ἀξιου̑ντεϛ διαπράττεσθαι αὐτὸν παρ᾽᾽Αγησιλάου). There is no meeting described, but the large crowd that always follows Lysander constitutes the offence (ἀεὶ παμπλήθηϛ ὄχλοϛ θεραπεύων αὐτὸν ἠκολούθει). ‘Lysander appears greater than Agesilaus.’ Xenophon comments that as a result: ‘Agesilaus appeared to be the non‐ruler (ἰδιώτηϛ) and Lysander the king (βασιλεὺϛ)’. Agesilaus in response snubs Lysander as Cyaxares snubs Cyrus, but by turning away the people who come to him through Lysander. This turns out to be not just an insult as in the case of Cyaxares, but a strategy to teach Lysander what the offence feels like. We shall see the motif of one friend putting the other in his shoes in the conversation between Cyrus and (p. 235) Cyaxares as well. As a result of Agesilaus' action, Lysander has to dismiss his following because he is actually counter‐productive in achieving their desires. c) Pharnabazus was satrap to the Persian king and had been a friend and ally of Sparta in the Peloponnesian War, but Agesilaus had now devastated his domains because Sparta was at war with the Persian king, reducing Pharnabazus to the status of a nomad and a scavenger in his own land, no better than a wild beast. That constitutes the offence against previous friendship: Pharnabazus has been seriously ‘diminished’ rather than increased by the loss of his land and possessions. This is much more significant than losing a mere following. It is hard to say whether the rank of a Spartan king is less than that of a Persian satrap, but Agesilaus is the younger man and gives way to Pharnabazus as the elder in their meeting. But in another variation on the emerging pattern: ‘Agesilaus does not appear greater than Pharnabazus’; instead, Pharnabazus appears greater than Agesilaus in spite of the loss of his domains. There is a meeting, at which Pharnabazus arrives in a fine dress with a following of attendants who set down cushions for him to sit on, in a very similar way to that in which Cyrus provides shade and cushions for his uncle, but he finds Agesilaus sitting on the grass, with a retinue of his Thirty Spartan followers, but they are also of humble appearance. Pharnabazus becomes conscious of the inequality in their appearance when he sees Agesilaus' ‘mean appearance’ (ϕαυλότητα), joins him on the

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership ground, ashamed to sit in luxury (ᾐσχύνθη ἐντρυϕη̑σαι), extends his right hand, and speaks first, as the elder. Variation is the life‐blood of topoi. Some of Xenophon's variations are local rather than thematically significant; for instance Lysander's offence lies in the numbers of his followers, ‘a crowd’ as Xenophon says, whereas in the story of Cyrus it is the fine condition as well as the numbers of the following that constitute the offence: ‘best in horses’ and ‘best in weapons’ and ‘fine and good men’, in contrast to Cyaxares' following, which is small and of small worth and not worthy of honour. It is a more significant thematic variation that in the Pharnabazus story Agesilaus does not have the greater following even though he seems to play the role of the subordinate who usually does. Agesilaus' Thirty Spartans have not been taken from Pharnabazus, and they are also different from other followers in the story in that they share his mean condition rather than making an impression. In interpreting this variation against the pattern, we might say that Agesilaus is just displaying normal Spartan austerity; but in the light of the pattern's (p.236) focus on offence, he may be deliberately avoiding offence because he has met with Pharnabazus with a view to establishing friendship (4.1.29). We learn from Cyaxares in his relations with Cyrus that the greater appearance of an enemy is almost as offensive as that of a friend (5.5.9: ‘This greater appearance I think is difficult to endure at the hands of enemies, but far more difficult, I swear, at the hands of those from who one should least have to endure it’). Given that formulaic thought permeates Xenophon's narrative patterns, and given his comment from Agesilaus 8.1 that he never appeared ‘lordly’ to his friends, we might see Agesilaus' mean appearance as deliberately non‐aggressive. He is capable of exulting over his conquests of the enemy (cf. his exultation at Hell. 4.5.6) but may have a fine sense of what constitutes proper behaviour to a man he wants as a friend. If he is merely showing his usual austerity, then this is only a colourful cultural comment on the Spartan style; but if it is deliberate, it has significant impact on our reading of their relations. This encounter with Pharnabazus occurs not very long after the episode in which Agesilaus had made an issue of the offence of appearing greater with Lysander, and he might be imagined to be sensitive still to its effects. Pharnabazus' refusal to indulge in his own customary luxury when he sees Agesilaus on the ground and joins him ‘out of shame’ suggests that Pharnabazus is also unwilling to appear greater than Agesilaus. There seems to be no other reason for his shame except somehow to equalize their positions.52 He has behaved impeccably as their former friend and needs to feel no shame for that. Chrysantas, another Persian, captures the shame of appearing to be greater than another, when he tells Cyrus (Cyr. 7.5.56) that he would be ashamed (αἰσχύνεσθαι) to see Cyrus living out of doors while he lived indoors because he would then seem to have an advantage over him (pleonektein; cf. 2.2.25). This Page 41 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership shame is also felt by the older men at An. 2.3.11 when they see Clearchus toil while they do not. Pharnabazus' gesture in sitting on the ground risks his expensive clothing, which is a measure of his willingness to establish equality, and is what Persian followers sacrifice for their leader in the topos of willing obedience at An. 1.5.8; but the opposition we find elsewhere between fine (p. 237) followers and fine costume suggests that the man of worth will always prefer followers to fancy dress.53 2. The Complaint is Lodged in Terms of Friendship and Kingship

a) Cyaxares complains in a long speech that he is dishonoured because of the loss of his followers (5.5.8–10). He presents this as particularly offensive to his status as king: ‘although seeming as far as memory goes back to have been born of ancestors who were kings and of a father who was king and being considered myself a king, I see myself arriving meanly and unworthily and you with the greatness and magnificence of my own following and your other forces as well’. The affirmation by the offended king that he has been shamed because of his high status is a regular motif in the pattern, as we see in the other stories.54 Cyaxares here contrasts his present mean condition (ταπεινω̑ϛ ἀναξίωϛ) with Cyrus' magnificent appearance (μέγαν μεγαλοπρεπη̑). He couches the offence in terms of friendship: ‘This would be hard to bear from an enemy, but even more from a friend’ (5.5.9). His shame is huge: ‘sinking beneath the earth’ for shame: 6.4.6 etc. There is also a perceived threat in the offence, in this version of the story; Cyaxares believes his former ‘slaves’ may do him some harm after joining Cyrus. This makes the issue between them harder to resolve, and magnifies Cyrus' success in achieving resolution, as we shall see. b) The complaint that Lysander has dishonoured Agesilaus is lodged by the Thirty Spartans who are Agesilaus' immediate followers rather than by the king himself. This is a small variation that may reflect well on Agesilaus. Xenophon says that Agesilaus showed in his later action that he was angry too, but that the Thirty ‘could not keep silent’ for envy (του̑ ϕθόνου), indicating by contrast that the king was silent even though envious. This envy is what Xenophon regularly recognizes in men of power and powerful cities too, alongside their instinct for friendship (Mem. 2.6.18–28). Also, the Thirty are the ones who bring attention to Agesilaus' kingly status, and, instead of reciting Agesilaus' pedigree as king to enhance the offence, as Cyaxares does, and as Pharnabazus will also do in his version of the pattern, (p.238) they say that it is a transgression of law (νόμοϛ) for Lysander to act with more pomp (ὀγκηρότερον) than a king. They could have recited Agesilaus' pedigree, which was considerable (Agesilaus 1.2–3), but the ‘law’ about kingship is a nice piece of local Spartan colour. Following up this variation, instead of complaining as others do in the pattern, Agesilaus takes action. He Page 42 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership destroys Lysander's ability to re‐establish the decarchies ‘with Agesilaus’ by snubbing those who come to him from Lysander and thereby making him look powerless ‘with Agesilaus’. This variation reflects well on Agesilaus' leadership. His lack of complaint in spite of his anger shows the control of anger that Xenophon says is needed by the leader at Hellenica 5.3.7, where specifically punishing in anger often does more harm to the punisher than the offender. His snub is also a more inventive way of returning Lysander to his friendship than punishing him in anger as the Thirty wanted, because it puts Lysander in the position of the offended king so that he can experience what it is like to be dishonoured and come to recognize his offence. This technique recalls the motif in accounts of trials where judges lead the offender to confess what he would do to such a man if he were in the shoes of the judge (the trials of the Armenian king and of Orontas).55 Agesilaus' treatment indeed makes Lysander come to him to complain of his dishonour, thus taking up the role of the offended king that Agesilaus has offered him. c) Pharnabazus lodges his complaint about his loss of land and possessions as the offended king regularly does, reminding Agesilaus of their former friendship in a speech and referring to his loss of his paternal legacy and his injured high rank as Cyaxares did. He indicates that Agesilaus' conquests have left him unable even to secure a proper dinner in his own domains but that he must scavenge like an animal, and that ‘The lovely dwelling and parks full of trees and animals that my father left me, in which I took delight, I see them all burned to the ground or entirely devastated’. Like (p.239) others in the pattern, he too couches the offence in terms of friendship: ‘Tell me how are these the actions of men who know how to repay favour?’ 3. The Response to the Complaint

a) Cyrus begins his response by warning Cyaxares of the dangers of his previous savage treatment of his followers, which partly caused his loss of his following (4.2.9–11, 4.5.8–12). This background indicates that Cyaxares is an offended king without a cause, because his lack of management skills never could retain a greater following than Cyrus. Cyrus then spends the rest of his speech securing Cyaxares' agreement through Socratic questioning to the fact that Cyrus has bestowed a sequence of favours on him in friendship, whereas Cyaxares has done no favour to him and not even repaid his favours. This establishes Cyrus' past record of ‘increasing’ his uncle in spite of his present offence. Cyaxares falls silent when his worst failures are raised: that he refused to fight the enemy but left Cyrus to do it alone; that he did not wish to send him troops; that he did not even allow Cyrus to ask for troops, but said he must come and persuade them (20, 21), and then he admits that in fact Cyrus has done him no wrong (25). The greatest and noblest favour is that Cyrus has let him see ‘your territory increasing and the enemy Page 43 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership territory diminishing’: τὴν δὲ σὴν χώραν αὐξανομένην, τὴν δὲ τω̑ν πολεμίων μειουμένην (5.5.24). In other stories, there is only one complaint and one response, but in this story Cyaxares lodges a second complaint (5.5.28–34), giving this version of the dilemma of friendship a greater depth and complexity. Cyaxares admits Cyrus' favours, which have increased his land and his wealth, but he now complains that this increase diminishes his honour because he is its passive recipient. In a paradoxical twist moreover, as Agesilaus puts Lysander in his shoes by showing him what it is like to be robbed of followers, Cyaxares puts Cyrus in the shoes of the offended king by producing a series of relationships where a man wins the followers of another and makes them care more for him than for the original owner. This man could not really be considered a friend, he says. His remark that by showering benefits on him Cyrus has made him like a woman, is taken by some to indicate that Cyrus reduces all his entourage to the status of women, but the complaint of the offended king is never in these stories taken to be the final word. (p.240) b) Lysander responds to Agesilaus' snub by dismissing his following and thereby extinguishing his appearance of greatness. He takes up the role of the offended king and becomes the complainant. ‘You know how to belittle (μειου̑ν) your friends’, he says. Agesilaus now becomes the offender and the respondent to the complaint, and he asserts in his defence that he indeed knows how to belittle: ‘those who want to appear greater than me (τοὺϛ γε βουλομένουϛ ἐμου̑ μείζουϛ ϕαίνεσθαι). But if I did not know to increase those who increase me (τοὺϛ δέ γε αὔξονταϛ), I would be ashamed’. This is a pledge of future friendship, and the clearest statement in all three versions of the message at the heart of the pattern, which is that it is the duty of friends to increase the general fortunes of the other as well as their appearance. c) The response to Pharnabazus' complaint is divided between Agesilaus and his followers. Both responses acknowledge the need for friends to increase each other and repay benefits. The Thirty on the one hand are silent for shame at Pharnabazus' complaint that they have not repaid favours, but Agesilaus pledges to increase the fortunes of Pharnabazus as friendship and the pattern require. He says that he attacks Pharnabazus only because he is a follower of the Persian king and would gladly increase (4.1.36: αὔξειν) Pharnabazus' land and fortune and freedom, and increase his rule over others too, if only he would leave the service of the king and join them in equal alliance. 4. The Final Responses and the Reconciliation

a) Cyrus in response to Cyaxares' second complaint asks Cyaxares as a favour: ‘if I did you any favour in the past (ἐχαρισάμην), you too please favour me (χάρισαι) in what I ask of you: cease for the moment from Page 44 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership blaming me and when you obtain evidence of our attitude to you, if what I do appears to be for your benefit, think me a benefactor, returning my greeting when I greet you, and if not, then blame me’ (35). His pledge implies the increase that a friend should give. Cyaxares replies that ‘probably you speak well (καλω̑ϛ)’ and he agrees to wait to see what will happen. Cyrus asks for and receives the kiss (5.5.36). b) In response to Agesilaus' statement about how he would be ashamed not to increase a friend who increased him, Lysander as the offender commends his speech as Cyaxares did: ‘Probably you are acting more reasonably (ἐοικότα) than I did’. He then, as Cyrus does above, asks as a favour (χάρισαι) to be sent away to serve him and not feel shame at his lack of influence with Agesilaus and not get in his way. He also pledges the required increase ‘Wherever I go, I will try to be of service to you’. c) Pharnabazus responds to Agesilaus' offer of increase that he will go where the greater honour is, remaining with his king if he is given honour (p.241) from there, or joining Agesilaus otherwise. Xenophon notes: ‘Such, it seems, is philotimia’. We are dealing throughout these stories with love of honour, which is the main focus of the desire for increase. Pharnabazus asserts the desire for increase but also his loyalty to those who increase him most when he puts the command that the king might give him above the increase of power and of territory he would gain by choosing Agesilaus' friendship. Agesilaus then confirms a desire for the friendship of a man of such love of honour and pledges that he will no longer plunder his land—even if the war continues. This is the regular pledge of future friendship from the offender. 5. The Epilogue, Proving the Reconciliation and/or the Good Intentions of the Subordinate

a) In the immediate aftermath of the meeting, Cyrus ‘increases’ Cyaxares by restoring to him his appearance of a great following. He tells the Medes to pay their respects to their king and they send cupbearers, cooks, bakers, musicians, cups, robes, because he likes dining and dressing up (5.5.38–9; cf. 5.5.41–4, 4.5.8–9, 6.1.6). This makes Cyaxares change his mind about Cyrus: ‘that he had not taken his followers from him and that the Medes paid attention to him no less than before’ (5.5.40). After a lapse of time, in the later narrative, Cyaxares gave Cyrus his daughter in marriage to seal their friendship (8.5.17–20). b) In the immediate aftermath of the meeting, Lysander departs, so that it is to be assumed that Agesilaus acquires the greater appearance of having followers.

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership In a narrative prolepsis after the account of the meeting, breaking annalistic time in a way that indicates that the content is significant, Lysander completes the service he promised, by persuading Spithridates, a Persian noble who has been ‘belittled’ by Pharnabazus, to defect to Agesilaus. There may be a hint here that those who are ‘belittled’ by their friends are normally justified in abandoning them, rather than trying to reach reconciliation as Agesilaus did. Agesilaus is ‘pleased’ when Lysander brings Spithridates and his family and a force of cavalry to him, which gives Agesilaus a further ‘increase’ of followers that the pattern expects from friends. After a lapse of time, in the later narrative, Agesilaus ‘increases’ the new friend Lysander brought him by arranging a marriage between (p.242) Spithridates' daughter and the more powerful king, Otys of Paphlagonia, in order to seal their friendship (4.1.3–14). c) In the immediate aftermath of the meeting, Agesilaus accepts guest‐ friendship from Pharnabazus' son in the paidikos logos referred to earlier. After a lapse of time, in a narrative prolepsis, Agesilaus does favours of love for his young guest‐friend in this same story of love. The reconciliation through sons and daughters is present in all three stories and takes the form of the paidikos logos. I have dealt with the paidikos logos in which Agesilaus proves his service to his friendship to the son of Pharnabazus by promoting his interests in an erotic relationship with another Athenian boy. There is a potential paidikos logos also in the story of Lysander in the reference to Spithridates' young son, who is the Megabates to whom Agesilaus is so attracted in Agesilaus 5. In the account of how Agesilaus arranges the marriage of Spithridates' daughter, Xenophon hints at the erotic dimension by making Agesilaus commend the son's beauty as well as the daughter's. The marriage of Spithridates' daughter is a heterosexual paidikos logos, as is Cyrus' marriage to Cyaxares' daughter. Cyaxares sends his daughter wearing ‘most beautiful’ ornaments and clothing and pledges her in marriage with the kingdom of Media as her dowry, and he recalls in the sentimental terms of such stories how she fell in love with Cyrus as a young girl: ‘You often acted as her nurse, when you were a boy staying with us, And whenever anyone asked her whom she would marry, she replied, “Cyrus”’. This story of their past relations reveals the nurturing tendency in Cyrus, which he showed to his followers through his life. The story of the marriage of the daughter of Spithridates introduces another formula that is found in Cyropaedia, when leaders arrange marriages: 8.4.13. Among the formulaic aspects of these stories, the leaders make the girls more attractive to their grooms by giving them their own alliance as part of their dowry. Agesilaus offers his own alliance to Otys as an incentive to the marriage and when Cyrus asks Gobryas (the Otys figure) to give his daughter to Hystaspes (the

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership Spithridates figure), Hystaspes declares he brings great wealth to the match—in the form of his friendship with Cyrus. In this formulaic pattern of the breach of friendship through offence we see a complex creation. The recognition of the pattern still guides our understanding of its exemplars as other formulae do, but harder (p.243) thought is needed about the dilemma it proposes. Praise and blame can be allocated to the leaders involved, but in order to blacken relations between Agesilaus and Lysander in his Life of Agesilaus 7–8, Plutarch had to make Agesilaus appoint Lysander to a humiliating office, which is not in Xenophon, and had to add Lysander's later subversion of the constitution as the damaging outcome, again something that is not in Xenophon; he also had to play down Lysander's subsequent service in acquiring Spithridates, which is in Xenophon. In terms of the pattern as it stands, however, Agesilaus emerges from Xenophon's account as one who knows how to manage for the common good of all an offence that was quite accidental because it was merely a result of Lysander's popularity in Asia; his lenient treatment contrasts with the harsher perspectives of the Thirty who wanted Lysander severely punished. Cyrus' offence to Cyaxares has been read in negative terms too, but that is also an accidental product of his popularity as a good leader among followers who were more attracted to him than they were to Cyaxares. He solves the almost unsolvable dilemma in that version of the pattern of how to increase and restore followers to a man who has no talent for winning their following by the only means possible, which is to give him the illusion of commanding their following, in a delicate handling of the situation that serves the common good of the army as the formula requires, with its main commanders again united in some sort of common purpose.

5. A Topos of Speech Xenophon's creation of formulae to illustrate leadership goes outside narrative into the speeches that his leaders deliver. For instance, the speech that Thrasybulus delivers in Hellenica 2.4. 40–2 uses the same language and the same rhetoric as Cyropaedia 7.5.83 to show that rulers must be superior to those they rule. These apply the same values of leadership to a democracy and an empire and bring us back to the universality of Xenophon's thought about leadership. Thrasybulus was the leader of the democratic resistance to the oligarchic rule imposed on Athens by the Spartans after their victory in the Peloponnesian War. Once he had achieved victory in this (p.244) resistance in their civil war, he chastised the oligarchic opposition, who had tried to rule the demos, in the following terms: You would best know yourselves if you were to consider what your grounds for high thought are, that you try to rule us. Are you more just? The demos, though poorer than you, never did you wrong for the sake of money, but Page 47 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership you, though richer than all, committed many disgraceful crimes for the sake of profits. Since you have no part in justice, is it on courage that you pride yourself. What clearer judgement could there be than the outcome of our battles against each other. Do you think you have more wisdom, you who with a fortress and weapons and money and Peloponnesian allies, were outdone by those who had none of these? Is it in the Spartans that you have your high thoughts? How so, when, like those who hand over with a muzzle dogs that bite, they hand you over to this wronged demos and have gone and left you. Cyrus uses the same rhetorical questions in dealing with the same theme when he appeals to his Persian peers to continue their former hard life after their conquest of their opposition too: Consider what excuse we would have for being worse than we were before. Because we now rule? But it is not fitting that the ruler be worse than the ruled. Because we seem more successful than we were before? Will someone say then that vice is part of success? Because we have slaves and we will beat them if they are bad? What right is there to beat others for vice if we are vicious ourselves? Consider too that we have acquired many men to guard our homes and persons. How would it not be disgraceful to think that we must have other men's spears for our security while we do not bear spears ourselves? The alliance of the Spartans is a rather unexpected climax to the sequence of other straightforward virtues of justice, courage, and wisdom that Thrasybulus mentions. But the unexpected is formulaic too. Cyrus has the same surprise ending: that rulers must be better than those they rule, but that it is not right to depend on the arms of others for security; this is the motif of dependence on Spartans in Thrasybulus' speech too.

(p.245) Conclusion These topoi reveal Xenophon's narrative techniques and confirm his interest in leadership and its dilemmas. He emerges as a literary artist of considerable complexity and nuance in his manipulation of patterned narratives that are his own original creations. The recognition of his formulae gives us the tool to read the messages he is sending in all cases and is of particular value in interpreting his more controversial episodes. The reading of the controversial epilogue to Cyropaedia as another formulaic pattern, one that confirms the praise of Cyrus, will therefore be the starting point for the next chapter, which addresses more directly the darker readings of that work. Notes:

(1) For Homeric patterning: Fenik (1968); Latacz (1977). Such patterned scenes were already a focus of Greek scholia. Nünlist (2009), 307–14 for the arming Page 48 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership scenes, the battle scene, the messenger scene. See for patterns in Herodotus: Immerwahr (1966); Lattimore (1939). (2) Due (1989), 92–114 on recurrent themes, but not narrative scenes. (3) Homer's description of Odysseus beating men in Iliad 2 might provide a distant resonance for this: below pp. 122–4. (4) Aristotle, Poetics 1455a22ff.; Walker (1993); Richardson (1980), 277 = (2006), 196f.; Nünlist (2009), 194–8, and on readers as spectators: 153–5. (5) Xenophon's theory of leadership does not rule out exhortatory speeches, but he makes a point of questioning them in Cyropaedia, when he gives a report of the Assyrian king's grand speech of exhortation (3.3.44–5), then has Cyrus comment on it to the effect that there is no point in such speeches unless those addressed are already brave and good men (3.3.50–5). In this he reflects the instruction that his father gave him in the importance of producing the correct disposition in his men before taking them to battle (Cyr. 1.6.26). In order to make the point more strongly, when he goes into battle himself on this occasion against the Assyrian, Xenophon describes how his men encourage each other in speeches and he comments on their preparation as good men which renders longer speeches pointless: ‘the army for Cyrus was full of enthusiasm, love of honour, strength, confidence, encouragement, good sense, persuasiveness, which I think is most terrible for the enemy’ (3.3.59). Cyrus own words as the line presses forward are short: who will follow? Who is brave? Who will first kill a man? And his words are repeated down the line (3.3.62–3). (6) Goldhill and Osborne (1999), 19. (7) Goldhill (1998). See also Nightingale (2004) who focuses on theoroi to festivals and philosophic theory. (8) See pp. 345–9. He is not mentioned in the context of theory: Russell and Winterbottom (1972); Russell (1981); Laird (2006). Too (1998) notes his contribution in other areas (p. 91f., 148) but not to literary theory. (9) This theory might be compared with mimesis in Plato, Republic. See Belfiore (1984), 132–6 = (2006), 100–3 on ‘good imitation’ in Plato. Plato prescribes the kind of imitative literature that creates the good and just citizen. It is very suggestive that Plato includes good leadership among actions that can be imitated: Belfiore (1984), 139, 143 = (2006), 106, 111. Too (1998), 51–81 argues that Plato suppresses and excludes and represses multiciplicity with his theory of ‘good’ imitation. (10) Aristotle claimed the pleasure of learning as well as the pleasure of representation for those poetic genres. See Russell and Winterbottom (1972), 86; Too (1998), 94–5; Ford (2002), 95–6. Page 49 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership (11) Dillery (2004) and (2008). Agesilaus 2.14 offers us the viewing of corpses on the battlefield: ‘then it was possible to gaze on…’ (12) Xenophon has been said to have ‘next to no interest’ in drama: Lane Fox (2004b), 193 and n. 35. It is not so. (13) Xenophon finds aesthetic pleasure in drama here, but elsewhere in Oeconomicus he finds pleasure in learning. His scenes of instruction are of course entirely imbued with the pleasure of good writing. See Martindale (2007). (14) The play on ‘making’ as poetic process is traced in Ford (2002) in discussing the origins of the word ‘maker’ as ‘poet’: 131–57. (15) Too (1998), 100–9 pursues her argument about the elitism of ancient literary theory by noting how Aristotle divides genres into those that are serious and appeal to the serious and those that are otherwise. Xenophon might be developing an argument to include instructional scenes in prose writing alongside the more prestigious poetic forms that Aristotle was to endorse. See further for Xenophon's views on light fiction as ‘seriously improving’ alongside tragic forms on pp. 219–28, esp. 226–7. (16) See further pp. 351–60. (17) See the exact parallel at Ag. 6.4. (18) Cyropaedia has Panthea express her devotion in a similar way by committing suicide for her husband—preferring to die with him than to go to any other man (7.3.8–16). She does not simply clasp the dead body of her husband, but lays her head on his chest, and is wrapped with him in one cloak by her nurse. The eunuchs provide a doublet of her devotion to her husband when they express their devotion to her, by committing suicide themselves over her body, ‘standing on the spot where she bade them stand’. (19) Gray (2003b). We see double motivation marking the resolution of the dilemma between Agesilaus and his son, which leads to the acquittal of Sphodrias: ‘either thinking of it himself or advised by someone else’ (Hellenica 5.4.31): pp. 226–7. There is another interesting instance in the reasons why people performed proskynesis for Cyrus in Cyropaedia: pp. 280–1. Herodotus uses this before the resolution of a crisis: e.g. before the dissolution of the alliance between Megacles and Pisistratus (1.61: ‘whether she was asked or not’); Cyrus the Great before he hits on the plan to capture Babylon (1.191: ‘whether someone suggested to him in his dilemma or he found out himself what to do’).

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Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership (20) Tuplin (1993), 68 against Gray (1989), 151 that Agesilaus' use of deceit is different from Socrates' endorsement of it (Mem. 4.2.17) because it involves ignoring the omen that preceded the defeat and making inappropriate sacrifices on the basis of a lie—in other words, some kind of impiety. (21) This is an interesting example of Xenophon's manipulation of time. For other examples: Rood (2007). (22) For Homeric elements and the crossing with the arming scene, see pp. 134– 5. (23) See Hindley (1994), (1999), (2004). (24) See pp. 83–7. (25) Cyr. 2.2: pp. 346–50. (26) Azoulay (2004a), 1–9 noted references to Xenophon's literary ‘charm’ (χάριϛ). (27) See on the merits of ornamenting friends rather than self: pp. 133–4. (28) See Xenophon's treatment of this woman in Baragwanath (2002) = Gray (2010), 58–61. (29) We can compare the beginning of the love story in the trial of Sphodrias below: ‘There was a son to Sphodrias, Cleonymus, just out of boyhood, most beautiful and reputed of his fellows’ (Hell. 5.4.25) or the story of the slaughter of the Theban tyrants: ‘There was a certain Phillidas, who was secretary to Archias and his fellow polemarchs, and served them in other ways, as was reputed, most excellently well’ (5.4.2). (30) Hornblower (1991–2008), ad loc. with extended discussion and bibliography. (31) Tuplin, (1993), 126–8: the ‘simple spectacle of a corrupt Spartan official’ whose acquittal is a disgrace. Sparta did not need such ‘corrupt incompetents’. The partnership between the sons of Sphodrias and Agesilaus was said to recall the opinion of the ‘many’ about the carnal nature of these relations: RL.2.12–14. Cartledge (1987), 136–8, 156–9 saw that the acquittal was not in Agesilaus' interests because it guaranteed the union of Athens and Thebes against Sparta, but thought that it did secure him support and patronage within Sparta. Azoulay (2004a), 163, 308–10, 380: that Agesilaus puts Sphodrias and his family forever in his pocket. Riedinger (1991), 134ff. thinks Xenophon believes the acquittal unjust, and that the opinion of the many about the injustice of the trial forced him to become an advocate in the ‘déformation’ of the author's judgement that is a focus of his book, but he redeems Xenophon with a focus on the motives, which were generous and patriotic and filial. ‘Agésilas abandonne cette fois la rigueur Page 51 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership de la loi, accorde le pardon à qui est digne de pardon’. He sees the similarity to Cyrus' mercy to Araspas in Cyropaedia 6.1.37, which I develop below. (32) Tuplin (1993), 127–8 picked out these negative perspectives as the opinion that the reader should hold of Sphodrias. (33) Some have read this as a sinister indication that Cyrus has an instinct to violate the norms of Persian society and redistribute property: Nadon (2001). That reading can be controlled by recognizing the topos. (34) Gera (1993), 221–45 reads this episode in the context of the novella on Panthea. Reichel (1995), 8–9, 14 = Gray (2010), 426, 433 reads it as a romance in which the one who is immune to love is punished and in which there is a threat to a chaste woman. I endorse this, but the story has more in common with the pattern of the unjust acquittal. (35) The relations between Araspas and the woman are phrased in terms of growing friendship and mutual service until lust strikes Araspas: 5.1.18. (36) Gera (1993), 229 notes this technical term and the Herodotean indication that even thinking bad thoughts about a deposit is enough to turn the gods against you (6.86). (37) Tatum (1989), 173–5 sees the messenger as Cyrus' frustrated lover, who is given the abusive role, in order to allow Cyrus to practise his moderation. (38) Gera (1993), 229 asked why the messenger speaks to Araspas in the way he does and why Araspas has enemies, since this is unusual for Cyrus' men (231). Both can be explained in terms of the formula. (39) Newell (1983), 900ff. takes the relations between Araspas and Cyrus as an indication of problems in Cyrus' leadership. He wishes to persuade us that Cyrus and Araspas are in competition for Panthea and that this makes friendship between them impossible. This passes over most of the story as Xenophon tells it. (40) Cf. Gera (1993), 78–98 on this episode; Nadon (2001), 77–86. (41) Vlastos (1991), 179–99 discusses Socrates' rejection of retaliation, but Xenophon regularly endorses the cliché of helping friends and harming enemies (e.g. An. 1.9.11). It is only the occasional need for higher justice that makes inroads into it. The idea that people should be preserved for future use recurs at Hellenica 7.4.8 where the Spartans let the Corinthians make peace with their common enemy on the grounds that they may be ἐν καιρω̑ι to them if they are saved, but if they are destroyed they can never be useful again. (42) See pp. 153–6. Page 52 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership (43) Gera (1993), 91–4, one of the many images of Socrates that she finds. See also Mueller‐Goldingen (1995). Nadon (2001), 85 suggests that Cyrus alienates the boy's affection from his father quite as much as the teacher had—making a Socrates of Cyrus. (44) Gera (1993), 230. Newell (1988), 111 implies that the trial of the Armenian king is the result of putting the philosopher to death. (45) Gera (1993), 83–4. (46) There is a basis for this mercy in historical reality. Herodotus 1.137 notes that the Persians did not condemn a man for a single crime. Mercy was also known in judicial procedures inside Athens: Lanni (2005). (47) See for such techniques Long (1987). (48) Agesilaus 7.3 says that his relations with opponents were like those with his children. This scene shows how he treats his children with compassion, as well as his enemies. (49) There may be another version of the pattern in the story in Diogenes Laertius 1.71, where Chilon votes to condemn a friend guilty in law, but persuades other judges to acquit him for the sake of his friendship with the man: Richer (1998), 431. (50) See pp. 267–77 for a detailed critique of this darker reading. Due (1989), 54–62 analysed Cyrus' relations with Cyaxares as positive, but failed to convince Tatum (1989), 115–33, Gera (1993), 98–109, Nadon (2001), 87–100, or Azoulay (2004a), 63–8. (51) The snubbed kiss that causes offence is a motif that becomes a story in its own right in the paidikos logos at Agesilaus 5.5. The snubbed kiss finds its equivalent in Agesilaus' snub of Lysander's clients below. (52) At Cyr. 8.2.13 Cyrus is said to feel great shame if friends got the better of him in courtesy and favour. (53) See Cyr. 2.4.5, where Cyaxares wants Cyrus to put on a fine dress to impress their allies, but Cyrus brings him his followers instead, arguing that followers are more an ornament to them than fine dress. Elsewhere fine dress is associated with honour however, either by giving or having: 1.3.3, 2.4, 8.3.4. (54) The suggestion (Gera (1993), 99) that Xenophon is hinting at Cyrus' lowly Herodotean birth confronts his more noble origins at 1.2.1. (55) In that Lysander commits a crime and Agesilaus does not punish him for it as severely as he could, this story crosses with the pattern of the unjust acquittal Page 53 of 54

 

Xenophon's Patterned Narratives of Leadership above. Lysander commits an offence against Agesilaus, who deals with it before it reaches a formal trial. We have the use of the negative perspectives on the wrongdoing when the Thirty declare that Lysander was behaving ‘contrary to law’ in having more pomp than a king. The final phase in the pattern also resembles the unjust acquittal: Lysander asks to be sent away to serve Agesilaus in some capacity: τάδε οὐ̑ν μοι ἐκ του̑ λοιπου̑ χάρισαι. ἀποπέμψόν ποί με, ὅπου γὰρ ἄν ὠ̑ πειράσομαι ἐν καιρῳ̑ σοι εἰ̑ναι.

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Readings of Cyropaedia

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Readings of Cyropaedia Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0006

Abstract and Keywords Chapter 5 investigates the methods behind darker readings of Cyropaedia, using the results of the previous investigations of formulaic scenes and the adaptations of his literary predecessors, and begins by reading the epilogue to that work as a patterned narrative of decline that creates a rhetorical argument designed to support the praise of Cyrus. This chapter then engages directly with ironical readings of significant passages from Cyropaedia and makes a case that Xenophon is not unaware of the complexities of leadership but gives no purchase for darker readings, that he set himself a challenge in turning a Persian king into an ideal leader against the historical realities of Persian kingship, but that this was a challenge he relished and needed to overcome to prove that his leadership theory explained the success not just of smaller communities but of the greatest empire the world had ever known. Keywords:   Cyropaedia, epilogue to Cyropaedia, dissonances, Cyrus the Great, Cyrus the Younger, empire, subversive readings, Xenophon, Cyrus the Great story

The Epilogue: The Structural Contradiction or the Confirmation of Praise? The notorious epilogue to Cyropaedia (8.8) is another example of a formulaic pattern. It may be helpful to outline the contents. It begins by confirming the idea in the preface that Cyrus' empire was the noblest and greatest of those in Asia and was governed solely by his will, and that he honoured and cared for his subjects as children and they respected him as a father. It adds that when he died, the sons of his blood immediately quarrelled, cities rebelled, and ‘everything turned to the worse’ (8.8.1–2). There follows a blow‐by‐blow account of how the customs and practices he had established were perverted after his Page 1 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia death, which insistently contrasts the practices and habits that were ‘previously’ in force in Cyrus' times but ‘nowadays’ are not. One example of this is the reference to the events of the Anabasis, forty years before the epilogue was written. I know that previously the king and his company remained true even to those who had done the most dreadful things, if they had sworn oaths to them, and they stayed true if they pledged their right hands. If they had not been like this and had this reputation, no one would have trusted them, as nowadays no one does trust them, since their impiety stands revealed. The generals who went with Cyrus would not have trusted them. But as it was in our time now, trusting in their previous reputation, the generals handed themselves over on these terms and were taken to the king and beheaded. (p.247) Xenophon is referring to the execution of Clearchus and Proxenus and the others as described in Anabasis 2.5. Scholars once recognized that this epilogue confirmed the surface praise of Cyrus,1 but this has given way to the impression that the epilogue produces a dissonance that qualifies or contradicts the apparent praise of Cyrus in the preface and the main body of the text.2 Dorion (2001/2010), 286 identifies this structural contradiction as the justification of ironic readings of this and Xenophon's other works by Leo Strauss.3 This chapter will argue that the epilogue is in fact a patterned narrative found in two other works that tells the same story of subsequent decline in Cyropaedia in relation to the Persians, in the Constitution of the Spartans in relation to the Spartans, and in Memorabilia in relation to Alcibiades and Critias. The recognition of the pattern requires us to read the decline as proof of the excellence of a previous controlling paradigm, Cyrus in one case, Lycurgus' laws in another, and in the final case Socrates himself. There is some inconsistency between the epilogue and the main text, but inconsistency can have effects other than contradiction, as we know from studies of other ancient genres.4 (p.248) The Epilogue as a Rhetorical, Patterned Argument

Xenophon's Constitution of the Spartans is similar to the Cyropaedia in its overall shape.5 In the preface of Cyropaedia, Xenophon praises Cyrus for creating the Persian empire and securing obedience from those he governed, in the preface of RL he praises the lawgiver Lycurgus for establishing the laws and customs in obedience to which the Spartans achieved the power and fame that constituted their own success.6 He even expresses the same wonder at the success they achieved. He wonders at Cyrus' creation of a great and stable empire that lasted his lifetime in spite of the general short lives of other regimes. In RL he wonders at Sparta's achievement of power and glory in spite of her small population. He finds the answer in the customs that Lycurgus created just as he would find the Page 2 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia answer to Cyrus' imperial success in the customs he created, for instance in his court. The success in both works is rule over others and the difference lies only in the scale of the achievement. As in Cyropaedia too, the subsequent text of RL seems to confirm the praise, showing that Lycurgus passed laws that produced customs that secured success by developing ‘all the virtues’ and ‘complete political virtue’ (10.4–7) in the citizens from birth to old age (1–10), in the army also and in the kings (11–13). Lycurgus is often explicitly ‘praised’ for his laws, and Xenophon described his motives for each law and the effects he intended to produce. Then, just before the work closes with the laws that Lycurgus introduced to determine the duties and privileges and constraints on the power of the kings when they are at home, and their contract with the citizens (15), a chapter intervenes of how the Spartans have at the time of writing lost the success and hegemony they once (p.249) enjoyed because the laws are no longer ‘unmoved’ (14: ‘If you should ask me whether the laws are still ἀκίνητοι, I could not say…’). This is the epilogue, similar to that of Cyropaedia in that it speaks of the decline of contemporary Spartans as the epilogue to Cyropaedia speaks of the decline of contemporary Persians. The proof of the decline is found in the harmosts, the Spartan governors of the cities overseas, who had succumbed to the corrupting effects of empire and had become greedy for gold and luxurious living, who were no longer intent on being worthy of rule, but merely on securing their rule for their own advantage. The result was, according to Xenophon's theory of leadership, the loss of the willing obedience of their allies as followers. Xenophon indicates that the Greeks had offered them the willing obedience that good leaders merit when they had ‘asked’ them to be their leaders; they withdrew this support when the Spartans abandoned their obedience to the laws (14.6). As in the epilogue to Cyropaedia, there is an abundant contrast of ‘previously’ and ‘now’. I know that previously Spartans chose to live at home with one another living on moderate means rather than being corrupted through playing the harmost in the cities and being the objects of flattery. I know that previously they feared to be seen in possession of gold, but nowadays some consider themselves noble for its possession…I know that previously they drove foreigners out and did not allow people to live abroad, so that the citizens would not be filled with laziness from contact with foreigners, but now I understand that those who have the top reputations make it their pursuit never to cease playing the harmost abroad. Cyropaedia shapes its epilogue with the same comparisons in its account of decline:

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Readings of Cyropaedia Previously if anyone did a brave deed for the king or captured a city or nation or did anything else noble and fine, these were the ones honoured. But now if someone…betrays their father…and by contravening their greatest oaths seems to the king to have done something in his interests, these are the ones celebrated with the greatest honours. (8.8.4) I mentioned above that the epilogue of RL, like that of Cyropaedia, is said to be a structural contradiction of the main body of the work. In the case of RL, this is based on the supposition that Xenophon has been praising the Spartans throughout the work and withdraws his (p.250) praise from them in the epilogue.7 Xenophon's epilogue would indeed constitute a withdrawal of that praise if he had been praising the Spartans, but as the preface shows, he has been praising Lycurgus' laws and the success they achieved while the Spartans obeyed them. That means that his praise of the Spartans is merely for their obedience, and since the epilogue now proves their disobedience, it rightly withdraws the praise given to them for their obedience. In doing so however, it confirms the praise of Lycurgus' laws: for the work argues that the Spartans gained their success through obedience to these laws and the epilogue says that they lost it as a result of their disobedience. The conclusion must be that the laws were indeed the secret of their original success and therefore worthy of the praise. The epilogue in other words is a story of decline that offers a rhetorical argument designed to persuade us of the main thesis: it is the converse of Aristotle's argument that the laws were defective because the Spartans lost their success even while obeying them (Politics 1333b22–4). Aristotle's argument is significant because it identifies the logic that guides Xenophon's epilogue as a rhetorical piece of argumentation. Aristotle comments that Thibron, a lost writer, admired the Spartan lawgiver as other writers on the Spartan constitution did, to the effect that he schooled them in danger, with the result that they ruled many. But Aristotle argues that the Spartans have in his time lost their success and the lawgiver is thereby proven to be not good, because they have lost that success even though they ‘remain in his laws’ μένοντεϛ ἐν τοι̑ϛ νόμοιϛ αὐτου̑, and nothing prevents them keeping to these laws. The point of difference in the argument is merely whether the Spartans do still keep to the laws; Xenophon says no, Aristotle says yes. The epilogue has the same function as rhetorical argument in Xenophon's Cyropaedia. It ascribes Persian decline to their failure to continue the practices that Cyrus laid down for his empire, practices that are very much like Lycurgus' laws and even referred to as ‘laws’ (Cyr. 4.3.22, 5.1.1). By associating decline with the abandonment of those laws and practices, Xenophon is proving (p.251) their worth and the worth of Cyrus, for it was he who created them, and while the Persians were true to them, they enjoyed success. It is not at all surprising to

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Readings of Cyropaedia find Xenophon focusing on lapses in obedience in both these epilogues, when he sees obedience as the central problem of leadership. There is support for this interpretation of those two more problematic epilogues in a third less problematic use of the same pattern of rhetorical argument in Xenophon's defence of Socrates against the charge of corruption of the young in Memorabilia 1.2.19–23.8 This ‘epilogue’ is not under the cloud of negative scholarship that affects the other two, and it shows clearly the identity of those other two as forms of rhetorical argument. The guiding paradigm whose removal leads to corruption in this case is Socrates and he is the one who laid down the principles of conduct in obedience to which people acquired success, who are in his case not the Persians or Spartans, but Alcibiades and Critias. Here Xenophon is arguing against the charge that Socrates was responsible for the corruption of Critias and Alcibiades, which was a major challenge for Xenophon's defence of Socrates against the charge of corrupting the young.9 He spends considerable time in refuting it (Mem. 1.2.12–48). He freely admits their corruption, but his argument is that they were not corrupted during the time they spent under the guidance of Socrates because they followed his rules and laws and kept to the practices he recommended (1.2.18); they became corrupt only when they escaped his control and abandoned his rules. Their corruption was therefore not the result of following his rules and keeping to his practices, but of abandoning them. Moreover, since this subsequent corruption proved that they had the instinct for corruption in them, then Socrates' laws must be deemed all the more powerful and good, because he checked their innate corruption while they were under their control (Mem. 1.2.24–5). This paradigm adds some detail to the pattern of subsequent decline that can inform the other two instances in a very significant (p.252) way. For instance Xenophon tackles the objection that ‘the just man cannot become unjust, nor the moderate man insolent’ because that suggests that could not therefore have been virtuous under the guidance of Socrates because virtue does not become lost (1.2.19). Xenophon argues against this that virtue can be lost and is preserved only through regular training and through keeping company with men of virtue (‘learn good things from good men. If you mix with bad men you will lose the wits you do have. A good man is now bad, and at another time good’). He says that just as we forget lines of poetry if we do not keep on recalling them, the soul that forgets ‘admonitory words’ forgets the impulse to virtue it once had. I see that just as poetry is forgotten unless it is often repeated, so instruction, when no longer heeded, fades from the mind. (1.2.21)

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Readings of Cyropaedia And indeed it was thus with Critias and Alcibiades. So long as they were with Socrates, they found in him an ally who gave them strength to conquer their evil passions. But when they parted from him…(1.2.24) What this suggests is that the passions that cause decline are always present in men, ready to take over body and soul, and that they will do so if they are not properly governed. This is a feature of the other populations in decline as well. Cyrus sees the innate tendency to vice when he tells his Persians when they have acquired their empire that if they cease to train themselves in the hard practices of virtue, they will lose the habits of life that produced their success and therefore lose the success itself (e.g. 7.5.83, see pp. 243–4). The Spartan harmosts have this innate tendency too, since their passions for the acquisition of wealth and the flattery of others are released when they go overseas. Socrates' paradigm makes apparent what is implicit in the epilogues to RL and Cyropaedia that good habits need constant practice and supervision if they are to be retained, and that this is best achieved by a controlling presence such as Socrates or the laws and customs that Lycurgus and Cyrus created in Sparta and Persia. Moreover, the kinds of passions and appetites that afflict the Spartan harmosts and the Persians are very similar in their nature to those that afflict Critias and Alcibiades, and the triggers that set them off are the company they keep and particularly their residing abroad. When they parted from Socrates, Critias is said to have gone (p.253) to Thessaly to live among men that were ‘more familiar with lawlessness than justice’, and Alcibiades became a prey to the company of flatterers inside Athens and overseas: corrupted by many noble women, indulged by many powerful men because of his power in the city and the empire, honoured by the demos and easily holding first place there. Like those athletes who easily win first prize in their competitions and neglect their training, he also neglected his. The pair of them, when they experienced this, swelling in their lineage, exalted in their wealth, puffed up with their power, indulged by many men, corrupted for all these reasons and removed for a long time from the company of Socrates, what wonder if they became insolent? (1.2.24–5) The harmosts became corrupt when they went overseas, like Critias, and they became prey to flattery in the empire, like Alcibiades. The corruption of the Persians in the epilogue to Cyropaedia lies in slightly different experiences of empire but still confirms the wisdom of Cyrus in insisting on his personal supervision at his court of the men who ran his organization. In all cases, then, the decline in the epilogue reinforces the praise of the original controlling paradigms. Subsequent corruption through lapse of obedience proves the excellence of the original teaching, which restrained it. Page 6 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia In fact in the Socratic version of the topos, the praise of Socrates is not only confirmed but magnified by the later corruption, and this can also be applied to the other two epilogues. Xenophon says: ‘But does he seem to be deserving of no word of praise for having controlled them in their youth, when they would naturally be most senseless and most uncontrolled…?’ Xenophon says that other cases are not so judged. ‘For what other teacher…after making his pupils proficient, is held responsible if they leave him for another master, and then turn out for the worse?…Is it not true that the worse the boy becomes under the tutelage of the second, the higher is the father's praise of the first teacher?’ This is the way Socrates should also be judged (1.2.27).10 (p.254) This argument that the praise of the original controlling paradigm is increased by the extent of the subsequent corruption is not explicit in the other versions of the topos, but it could inform them. Cyrus should be praised the more for having controlled those who had such libertine instincts in them that they became as decadent as they did without him. The same applies to Lycurgus' laws and the harmosts. Another common feature of this narrative device is the large degree of unjustified and commonplace generality. It seems that this form of rhetorical proof sacrifices literal truth to the higher truth, which is the excellence of the original paradigm. This exaggeration is found in the large claims made about the lapses of the Spartan harmosts in RL, which are contradicted in Xenophon's other works, where some harmosts in his time are perfect paragons of virtue.11 Xenophon's description of their corruption recalls commonplaces even in other authors. Thucydides, for example, describes Pausanias, the victor of the Persian Wars, as the epitome of the Spartan overseas who abandoned the established customs (1.132.2: τω̑ν καθεστώτων νομίμων) like Xenophon's harmosts, and he likewise alienated allies like Xenophon's harmosts and made them reject Spartan leadership.12 The Spartans learned from his example not to send their people abroad (1.95.7). Isocrates' Peace also attributes Spartan decline to the acquisition of empire overseas in exaggerated (p.255) rhetorical terms similar to those of RL.13 The epilogue of Cyropaedia similarly exaggerates the decline of the Persians. Xenophon emphasizes the faithlessness of Persians from the time when Artaxerxes became king (8.8.3,12), but he contradicts this in his other works, which recognize the existence of thoroughly good satraps. Tissaphernes was faithless (Hell. 3.4.5–11), but Pharnabazus kept his word in his encounter with Agesilaus (Hell. 4.1.31–4). The epilogue says that the education of the boys at the royal court was abandoned (8.8.13), but Xenophon testifies to the continuance of the education of Persian boys in excellence at the royal court in the obituary for Cyrus (An. 1.9.3–5). The exaggeration in the claim that the corruption of the governors extended to the entire population of Asia needs no demonstration (8.8.5).

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Readings of Cyropaedia The exaggerated rhetoric is also seen in the tone of the three topoi. Hirsch (1985a), 94 describes the tone of the epilogue to Cyropaedia as ‘sarcastic, abusive and sometimes even vulgar’. It is certainly grandiose in its denuciation, and shares this with the descriptions of the harmost, and Critias and Alcibiades. It is also the tone of Xenophon's rhetorical denunciation of Menon in Anabasis 2.6 (pp. 74–7). It is partly the rhetorical nature of the epilogue that causes dissonances between the main text and the epilogue and indeed between these epilogues and Xenophon's own statements in works elsewhere. He writes the epilogue as a self‐contained and stand‐alone tour de force that takes on a rhetorical life of its own, and this is why he also introduces many topics that have not been mentioned in the previous text. The modern understanding of ancient inconsistency needs to be brought to bear, where the demands of rhetoric are indeed one of the recognized drivers of inconsistency. This modern (p.256) understanding also gives us other fruitful ideas that could apply to these dissonances, such as that the author is deliberately misdirecting the reader in order to prepare for the surprise in the epilogue.14 There is, for instance, not a single mention in the main text of the harmosts in RL though they are the central focus of the epilogue, nor any previous reference to the attitudes of the Greeks toward Sparta, which are another focus. Moreover Xenophon asserts that readers all know that the Spartans are in the present tense most obedient to the laws (8.1), which contradicts his description of the disobedience of their harmosts in the epilogue. Many of the practices mentioned in the epilogue to Cyropaedia find no mention in the main body of the text either, such as the education of the boys in the use of plants, which they once learned for medicinal purposes, but now learn for the concoction of poisons (8.8.14). There are also dissonances described in more detail below.15 We could simply attribute the dissonances to the separate rhetorical nature of the epilogue, but a passage in the main text of Cyropaedia offers another kind of interpretation. This passage notes the continuance into the time of the epilogue of the custom whereby the nobles still attend the court of the king as Cyrus had arranged and follow the practices he inaugurated as a means of securing the (p. 257) kingdom for himself and for them (8.1.6). However, Xenophon adds that: ‘it is the same with these things as with others: when the person in charge is better he carries out the laws more “purely”, when he is worse, then in a “meaner” way’ (8.1.7–8: ὅταν μὲν ὁ ἐπιστάτηϛ βελτίων γένηται, καθαρώτερον τὰ νόμιμα πράττεται, ὅταν δὲ χείρων, ϕαυλότερον).16 Xenophon is thinking here not only of the decline in the quality of the king (Hirsch (1985), 94), but also of the members of his court who acted as his governors in the hierarchy he created (8.1.14). He uses the term ‘person in charge’ (epistates) rather than ‘king’, and Page 8 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia the passage focuses on the members of his court, who wait at the gates on the king and remain virtuous in his time ‘since this was resolved by all the best men who together conquered their empire’. These are the governors who are mentioned in the epilogue as the source of the spread of corruption downwards to the masses at 8.5.5: ‘the characters of the prostatai become as a general rule the characters of those under their governance’. Xenophon's use of ‘purer’ and ‘meaner’ for the worse implementation of the laws in Persia is like his description of the laws of Lycurgus as ‘unmoved’ (ἀκίνητοι) in the epilogue to RL (cf. their ‘unmoved laws’ at Thuc. 1.71.3). They both capture a situation in which the laws are perverted rather than entirely abandoned, and their slight vagueness could be said to mask the tensions that the exaggerated rhetoric of the epilogue is causing. The implication is that even where Cyrus' customs continue, what continued might still be badly managed not only by the king but also by his governors; and this might be the same implication for the Spartan harmosts. The meaner and ignobler way in which Cyrus' practices are implemented is indeed a pattern in the content of the epilogue. For instance, it notes that Persians were once not allowed to spit or hawk from their mouths or noses and that this was to make them work the moisture off with hard exercise and make their bodies dry and hard (1.2.16: Xenophon is as ever familiar with ancient theories of physiology). Now it says that the custom against spitting remains, but they no longer work off the moisture (8.8.8). The original custom continued in other words, but the hard work that made the custom (p.258) noble has been abandoned. The same lapse of integrity is found in their dining habits (8.8.9–10): they still take only one meal a day as Cyrus dictated, but now they make an entire day of a meal. Similarly the law still requires that piss‐pots not be taken into parties, to avoid drunkenness (this is not mentioned in the main body of the text); but far from carrying such things in, they are themselves carried out, so drunk do they become. This is the almost comic kind of abuse we expect in such a rhetorical set‐piece; the denunciation of Menon in his obituary at Anabasis 2.6 is similar (pp. 75–7). At 8.8.11 they still control their bodily functions on journeys, but make the journeys so short that there is no need for such control. Another instance of ignoble implementation concerns the custom of earlier times that kings honoured those who did some good deed. The main text says that Cyrus honoured those who served him honourably; whereas the epilogue says that kings now honour those who betray their relatives, like Mithridates or Rheomithras (8.8.4). The point is that the king continues to bestow honour for service, but he defines good service very differently from Cyrus. Previously honour was given for courage or the acquisition of cities or some other ‘good and noble thing’. Now it is given to those who betray their relatives.17

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Readings of Cyropaedia The apparent dissonance between 8.1.36 and 8.8.12 is another case. The earlier passage indicates that the custom continues of the king leading his nobles out to hunt for the purpose of exercising them in warfare, but the epilogue says that Artaxerxes and his nobles are so under the influence of drink that they no longer go out to hunt ‘in the same way’, and those who do go hunting for the purpose of physical training ‘very often’ are hated on the grounds that they are (p.259) trying to be better than the others. The original purpose of the hunt was for training and they still do hunt, but not in a way that constitutes military exercise.18 And so it continues. The children still attend the royal court, but no longer learn the ways of justice because they see no rewards for justice (8.8.13). They continue to acquire knowledge of beneficial and harmful plants and herbs (another feature that is not found in the main body of the text), but whereas before this was for their health, it is now to be able to devise poisons, of which many now are said to die in Asia. The dissonance between 1.3.2, which says that the Persians ‘in their homeland’ continue to have plainer clothing and food than the Medes, and 8.8.15, which says that they continued to enjoy Median dress and food, but abandoned Persian restraint, might be explained as the difference between what they did abroad and what they did at home. The Persians ‘at home’ seem to have retained their original mores (8.5.21–7).19 But dissonances may in any case be explained by the considerable force of the rhetoric itself. Xenophon seems to have his cake and eat it too in his praise of Cyrus in Cyropaedia. In the main text he regularly notes how such‐and‐such a custom continued ‘into the present time’ of writing, and these seem to mark their original excellence.20 In the epilogue he again marks their original excellence by equating the perversion of their practice with decline. To have them abandon the customs altogether would mean that they placed no value on them and would contradict contemporary Persian realities. Far better that the custom endures because of its excellence, but contemporary Persians are unable to live with its implications. To say that they simply abandoned the custom of one meal a day is too simple. To say that they made one meal last all day is rhetoric of the required kind. There is a persistent impression that the epilogue implies a criticism of Cyrus for failing to prevent the quarrel between his sons, (p.260) which started the decline it describes,21 but the expectations set by the decline of Critias and Alcibiades in Memorabilia again counter that impression. Cyrus' failure to curb the passions of his sons is just another instance of the whole point of the epilogue: he failed to control his sons after his death just as Socrates failed to control his pupils once they left him. He therefore cannot be blamed for what happened once his sons escaped his control any more than Socrates was responsible for failing to control Critias and Alcibiades once they left him. There is evidence indeed that like Critias and Alcibiades, his sons had learned from Page 10 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia their paradigm, but forgot his original instruction and gave way to their passions and their desire to get the advantage of each other once they escaped his control. Xenophon certainly has Cyrus believe that he has educated his sons properly. On his death‐bed he says to them (8.7.10): ‘I was myself educated by my fatherland and yours (an evident reference to the republican Persian education system described at 1.2) to give way to my elders, not only brothers but citizens in general on the streets in seating and in speech. And you boys I educated from the beginning to honour your elders and to be honoured most among the young’. He warned them in particular against the quarrel that would ultimately lead to their decline, advising them to honour and support each other, since if they did, no others could challenge them (8.7.10ff.). This part of his advice is a replay of Memorabilia 2.3 where Socrates resolves the quarrel between two brothers by pointing out the strength that comes when brothers are united. Like Socrates in that conversation, Cyrus here urges Cambyses to win friends through serving them, and to begin with his brother (13–14), and he points out the strength that will come of their partnership if this is achieved (14– 16). It is implicit that their education taught them to honour each other and there are other references to the education of the sons of others at the royal and satrapal courts at 7.5.86, 8.6.10. The driving force behind the attribution of the decline to a failure of education by Cyrus is Plato in Laws 693–5, who argues that the Persians proved strong or weak depending on the education of the royal princes, and is said to draw his interpretation from (p.261) Cyropaedia.22 Perhaps Plato was thinking of Cyropaedia and just misunderstood Xenophon's argument, but there is a case to make also that Plato was thinking of Herodotus or of Ctesias rather than Cyropaedia. Plato in his Laws presents Cyrus as an admirable man who treated his subjects on a level of equality and accepted the advice of those who had wise counsel, in an atmosphere of ‘freedom, friendliness and mutual exchange of reason’, but he points to Cyrus' ignorance of household management to ‘divine’ the reason for the collapse under his son Cambyses. While he was away soldiering and creating his empire, Plato says, the boys were brought up among the pampered women and eunuchs of the royal court, where their every wish was granted and nothing put in their way, and the new‐found wealth of empire was theirs to play with. Their father was schooled in toughness and danger, but their lack of such training and discipline led to the war between Cambyses and his brother and his ultimate takeover by the so‐called Eunuch, better known in Herodotus as the Magus. Xenophon offers no evidence of this luxury and indulgence among the women or the eunuchs in Cyropaedia. He gives no place to feminine education of the boys, and he presents Cyrus' mother Mandane as very concerned for the education of her son in justice (1.4). It is Herodotus who depicts Cambyses among the women, swearing to take vengeance for the insult to his mother by turning Egypt upside down (3.3.3). It is Ctesias who describes the reliance of Cambyses Page 11 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia on eunuchs, and in whose works women are also a regular source of influence.23 In the matter of eunuchs, Xenophon goes out of his way to say that the eunuchs that Cyrus used as his bodyguard were not effeminate or pampered but possessed manly qualities in spite of their castration (7.5.62). He observed in a series of analogies that gelded horses cease to bite and kick, but they are no less good for warfare, castrated bulls are more obedient but still strong for work, and castrated dogs keep closer to their masters but are no less good at guarding. The same was true of (p.262) eunuchs: no less good at carrying out orders, or in the military activities of war, they retained ambition in their hearts, and the steel of a sword was in any case a great equalizer in wartime. There is no suggestion that these eunuchs brought up the royal sons in any case, since here they constitute a bodyguard for Cyrus. Whatever Plato had in mind, Xenophon's other ‘epilogues’ confirm the reading of the epilogue to Cyropaedia as confirmation of the praise in the main text. The argument from decline does introduce a tension between the past and the present that obliges the reader to think about the contrast and interpret it, but the inevitable conclusion of that reflection is to endorse the praise of Cyrus rather than question it. To read Cyropaedia as praise of Cyrus the Great is in any case to bring it into line with other fourth‐century reports, including those of Xenophon, which all praise him.24 No really plausible motives have been given in any case as to why Xenophon would want to conceal his blame of Cyrus if that is what he intended.25 He cannot be afraid of giving offence to contemporary Persians who happened to know Greek because the epilogue shows that he is completely (p. 263) unafraid of condemning them. Greek audiences had no vested political interest in not wanting to hear the blame of this oriental monarch and it is hard to imagine them objecting to some clearer presentation of how Cyrus sowed the seeds of his own failure. If one of the aims of Cyropaedia was to show the Greeks the political price of autocracy that the Greeks would pay if they pursued the takeover of the Persian empire, as is said, this is no reason to conceal his blame either, but to reveal it.

The Basis of Other Darker Readings of Cyropaedia It is recognized that Xenophon is using a range of narrative devices in Cyropaedia to underline the praise of Cyrus quite apart from obvious things like the preface.26 The epilogue figures among these and we may add in from previous chapters the adaptations of Herodotus that we find in Cyropaedia and the formulaic patterns Xenophon develops such as that of the offended king. These give no purchase for the darker readings, but there is need to comment on some that may be acquiring the status of received opinion.27

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Readings of Cyropaedia (p.264) The Destruction of the Republic

There is the view that Cyrus destroys the republic of Persia and turns it into an empire.28 Cyrus does not destroy the republic and it remains quite separate from the empire. Cyrus rules the domains he has conquered, but his separateness from the republic is enshrined in the compact his father makes between him and the Persians on his first visit back home: that if any foe should invade Persia or try to break apart the ‘laws of the Persians’ Cyrus will prevent it, and if any tries to depose Cyrus from his empire or revolt from him, the Persians will assist ‘themselves along with Cyrus’ against this (8.5.25). His father continues to rule as king and he continues to refer to the old Persian arrangements described at 1.2. Cyrus gives gifts to his family and friends and to the old existing authorities ‘rulers and elders and homotimoi’ (8.5.21) as well as gifts to the men and women of Persia, ‘such as the king now still gives whenever the king comes to Persia’. Even when Cyrus makes his new arrangements for his court, he presents them as nothing revolutionary (καινόν), but according to the old Persian arrangements (7.5.85: ‘Just as in Persia the homotimoi spend their lives in residence, so I say that you must be the homotimoi here and do all the things they do there, and keep a present watch on whether I do my job…’; cf. 1.2.). The episode in which he judges the matter of the tunic is supposed to have him criticize the unequal distribution of property within Persian society, but Cyrus' instinct to equalize is better seen when he gives the commoners equality with their peers and supports them all off his empire. Cambyses describes in public assembly how Cyrus has increased the Persians, ‘has enriched the best of those who campaigned with him and provided maintenance and payment for the many’. This hardly destroys the republic, and is the effect that Xenophon's reforms are designed to produce for Athens in Poroi. There is a view that his first speech as leader of the Persian forces destroys the aristocratic ethos of the republic by proposing to seek some reward for the virtue they (p.265) have traditionally cultivated; but this is no more than the usual desire to secure ‘increase’ by enjoying the fruits of conquest over the enemy. Cyrus offers the very convincing analogies of the public speaker and the farmer as well as the warrior to confirm the respectability of the desire for rewards in their current circumstances (1.5.9). We do not need to remind ourselves of the paradigm of Agamemnon (again) that people generally look to leaders to make them prosper. Cyrus' Education at the Hands of his Father

Another crux of the ironic readings is the conversation between Cyrus and his father in which he apparently learns the art of leadership, with all its emphasis on the way of willing obedience. Nadon (2001), 164–78 seeks to demonstrate that Cyrus does not intend to implement the instruction from his father and that it is in any case corrupt.29 In fact, in this reading, Cyrus' father does not even take him through the theory in order to refresh and increase his knowledge, as the surface suggests, but to show him how hard leadership is, because, it is alleged, he senses that Cyrus has too much ambition and wishes to curb it by Page 13 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia showing him the difficulty involved in leadership, which he overstates for that reason. The special focus of his unspoken ambition is said to be his uncle Cyaxares ‘whom he is planning to supplant’ (p. 167). Cambyses fails to make Cyrus give up his ambitions, Cyrus forges ahead with his schemes, and that proves the ‘limits of rational discourse’ when dealing with him (p. 178). A central argument in this complex interpretation is to take ‘seeming to be’ as deception (p. 172f.), but as we have seen on pp. 45–7 and further on pp. 100–4, the expectations raised by the almost exactly parallel passages of instruction cited there confront that darker interpretation, and they are assisted passages from this same conversation in which seeming is precisely the same as being. Cyrus' reply to Cambyses' exhortation that the commander should (p.266) ‘be visible’ (ϕανερὸν εἰ̑ναι) in taking on a greater share of their labours, for instance, equates seeming with being: ‘so you are saying that the leader must be (εἰ̑ναι) more enduring than his followers in all matters’ (1.6.25), and at 1.6.8 he says that ‘the leader must be better than his subjects not in lazing but in foresight and love of labour’. In any case, though Cyrus could perhaps deceive his followers by only ‘showing himself’ to rejoice and commiserate with his followers and by only ‘appearing’ eager to help them and fearful lest they suffer harm, it is hard to see how he could deceive them by only ‘showing himself’ to endure more heat, cold, and toil than the rest without truly enduring them. The leader's labours are lightened by the honour he receives, but that is just another one of Xenophon's tenets of leadership, also found in Memorabilia 2.1.18–19 and elsewhere. The reading seeks support for the alleged deception of followers by equating it with the instruction in the need to deceive the enemy in warfare, which Cyrus learns from Cambyses (1.6.27), but the deception of the enemy is quite different from the deception of friends and it is endorsed as a good thing in Socratic thought: ‘A general must be capable of furnishing military equipment and providing supplies for the men; he must be resourceful, active, careful, hardy, and quick‐witted; he must be gentle and brutal, straightforward and cunning, capable of caution and surprise, lavish and rapacious, generous and mean, skilful in defence and attack’ (Mem. 3.1.6). Cambyses does also mention how Persian boys once learned how to deceive even their friends ‘for the good’, and Cyrus is also alleged to have learned this (‘the experiment in teaching the Persian children how to be bad for a good end makes them experts in deception’, p. 176). The darker reading assumes that this deception of friends was current teaching when Cyrus was a boy and that ‘for the good’ is for the individual good of the deceiver: ‘the elusive and shifting character of any particular or contingent good lies at the root of the inadequacy of any single or simple teaching about justice, such as obedience to law, as taught in the Persian schools’ (p. 174). Xenophon's texts support neither of these views. His understanding of the deception of friends ‘for the good’ is the kind that does not seek personal advantage, but serves the common good, as in Memorabilia Page 14 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia 4.2.13–17, which offers as examples of those who deceive friends for the good: the military leader who conceals a lack of allies from his men for the common (p.267) good of the military enterprise in the face of the enemy, the father who administers life‐saving medicine to a son for the common good of the family when he does not wish to take it, and the one who takes a sword from a suicidal friend for the common good of their partnership. The good of the person deceived as well as the good of the deceiver is served in these examples. To confirm this, we have Cambyses' word that it was because the boys practised deceit of friends for their own good that the teaching was abandoned (1.6.32). The idea that Cyrus has learned deception of whatever kind is in any case denied when Xenophon has Cyrus and Cambyses both indicate that it was not current teaching when Cyrus was a boy; this is evident when Cyrus is surprised to hear about the earlier teaching and Cambyses explains that it was abandoned long ago, and that now in Cyrus' day boys are no longer taught deceit of any kind until they arrive at the ephebic age, when they are more likely to apply the teaching correctly, and then they are taught only that it is right to deceive the enemy (1.6.31–2); teaching the deception of friends for the good has been abandoned completely. Cambyses is not instructing his son in order to limit his son's ambition by showing him the difficulties of command either: there are no signs of such an intention in the dialogue and the difficulties endured by leaders are part and parcel of Xenophon's regular theory of leadership. Socrates teaches these difficulties in circumstances where his intention cannot possibly be to deter people from leadership, as in Mem. 3.3. The ‘Use’ of Cyaxares

A previous chapter has attempted to identify the celebrated confrontation between Cyrus and his uncle Cyaxares as an example of the formulaic pattern of story that examines the dilemmas faced by the kaloikagathoi in ‘increasing’ each other, with a particular focus on the offence that is caused by the possession of a greater following. The greater following that Cyrus has acquired from his uncle's men is certainly the main issue between them in their confrontation. The formula may now be brought to bear directly on those readings that present their relations as a supreme example of Cyrus' manipulative (p.268) ‘use’ of others.30 These endorse Machiavelli's reference to Cyrus' deception,31 and find the story ‘instructive to those princes who would like to know how to manipulate recalcitrant relatives to their advantage, rather than exterminate them’.32 Cyrus' actions throughout are seen as a persistent and deliberate attempt to isolate and disempower his uncle, with the final confrontation just the culmination of that.33 Cyrus certainly offends his uncle by appearing at their meeting to be a greater man than he is because of his greater following, but the recognition of their story as the pattern of the offended king suggests that Cyrus does not offend intentionally or deliberately disempower his uncle, no more than Lysander Page 15 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia deliberately intends to offend or disempower Agesilaus in his version of the formulaic pattern.34 Accidental offence turns out to be much more interesting as a dilemma in the friendship of the powerful than an offence that is deliberate. The darker reading provides another study of the ‘running paraphrase’ that Dorion (2001, 2010), 313–14 has so wonderfully summed up as one of the methods of Strauss's interpretations of Memorabilia 4.4: (p.269) Instead of addressing the question directly, by systematically applying his method of reading and taking a clear stance, Strauss comments on the text of the Memorabilia while paraphrasing it. He accords importance to everything, including, particularly, what may seem small details, and tries relentlessly, but in an allusive fashion, to explore the implication of what Xenophon might pass over in silence. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to speak in general terms of the Straussian reading of the Memorabilia, since Strauss, in his usual way, extricates the hidden messages from each page, but without assembling them into a systematic whole.35 This type of commentary is very demanding on the reader, who must have in advance perfect knowledge of Xenophon's text, or be incapable of checking passages of the commentary in which Strauss stretches the text that he is paraphrasing, or of evaluating the drift of the more or less sibylline observations that Strauss covertly introduces into what is most often presented as a simple paraphrase. The running paraphrase of Cyrus' dealings with Cyaxares omits and compresses features that work to the praise of Cyrus in Xenophon's account and elaborates and supplements views that work to his discredit. The first phase of their relations is when Cyrus wishes to take the war to the Assyrians instead of waiting for them to invade. According to Nadon (2001), Cyrus ‘quickly runs through his own money’ by rewarding the best of his men; the reason for his desire to take the war to the Assyrians is that he fears the envy that his competitions for these rewards have created in his army, but the speech he delivers to persuade Cyaxares to endorse the campaign conceals this reasons and is said also to be unrepresentative of the good sense that was shown in the instruction of Cambyses. The reader who knows Xenophon's views on leadership will find the way to another interpretation: that such rewards are part of good leadership, that the rivalry between the men is part of the preparation for war and is here channelled into war, that the reasons given for war in the speech are very much like the teaching of Cambyses because they emphasize the need to provision the army through the profits of warfare. The darker reading focuses on Cyrus' speech and abbreviates (p.270) the account of the subsequent fighting in the passing comment that the forces ‘manage to engage just a part of the more numerous Assyrian army’; that passes over the responsibility that Cyaxares bears for this merely partial victory in Xenophon's account.

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Readings of Cyropaedia Cyrus then seeks troops from Cyaxares to pursue the defeated Assyrians at 4.1.14–17, in what is interpreted as his first real move to disempower his uncle by removing his followers.36 No mention is made of Xenophon's point that the suggestion that they should ask Cyaxares for troops comes from his men as well as Cyrus and we are directly urged to ignore the base motives Xenophon gives to Cyaxares in arguing against the campaign (Nadon (2001), 89): ‘we must be careful here not to let the imputation of base motives too much colour our evaluation of Cyaxares' position’. These motives are his envy of the suggestion that they had made and his thought that it was fine not to go into battle again since he was engaged in merry‐making. Cyaxares' arguments against the campaign (that they have so far had victories only over a part of the enemy's forces, that they must not hope for continued success once the enemy gathers their entire enemy force, that the enemy will fight harder if their homes are attacked, and that his men are enjoying life at the moment and he does not want to compel them to go on fighting) are taken as entirely correct, and Cyrus is thought remiss in ignoring them.37 Yet subsequent events prove Cyrus right: he has tremendous success in this campaign, and in any case Xenophon gives him a speech that meets his uncle's argument point by point: a) he will not compel any soldier to go; b) perhaps some volunteers will get success for everyone to enjoy; c) he will not pursue the main force and risk men's lives, but cut off stragglers from the rear; d) he came with troops when Cyaxares needed them, and Cyaxares should return the favour. Cyrus is also said to mislead Cyaxares when he gives as reasons for seeking conquest that he wants to go home with some plunder and does not want to be dependent on his uncle's treasury. To the (p.271) innocent reader this sounds like regular leadership theory, but he is supplied with a reason why he can never go home that Xenophon does not mention: that his promotion of the commoners would unbalance the Persian regime so much that he never could return: ‘this realization puts us in a better position to understand Cyrus' desire to keep Cyaxares ignorant of the domestic political situation in Persia’. Cyaxares finally permits Cyrus to take with him on the campaign those among his Medes who volunteer to go. We are distracted at this point by the arrival of the Hyrcanians and their acceptance as allies, where the allegation is that Cyrus should not have accepted them as allies because they had defected from the Assyrian king and because their acceptance violated his agreement with Cyaxares. We are asked to believe that their defection from the Assyrians is like the Armenian king' defection from Cyaxares—even though Xenophon makes it clear that they had been badly treated by the Assyrians, which was not the case with the Armenian. To support the violation of the agreement, passages are cited that do not support it. There is also the charge that Cyrus should have informed

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Readings of Cyropaedia Cyaxares of their new allies; but the pursuit required immediate action and all speed. The darker interpretation then resumes: ‘The next morning Cyrus emerges from his tent to find the camp deserted’. His followers have gone with Cyrus. What this transition covers is the omission of Xenophon's description of their going, in a passage that attests to Cyrus' excellent leadership and his acquisition of willing obedience (4.2.9–11).38 The Persians all went out as was to be expected and Tigranes with his own army. Of the Medes who went out, some went on account of their friendship with Cyrus since boyhood, some because of their admiration for his manner in the hunt during their teens, some on account of their gratitude that he seemed to have driven off a great fear from them, some of them in hope of good things on account of his reputation as a good and successful man and (p.272) their thought that he would become still greater, some, on account of his education in Media, wanting to repay him for the favours received, for he had achieved many good things for them, working through his grandfather out of love of mankind, many went too out of a desire for booty, when they saw the Hyrcanians and heard that they would lead them to good things. Almost everyone went out, and the Medes too, except those who camped with Cyaxares…But all the others went out glowingly and enthusiastically, since they were volunteers, not conscripts, and driven by gratitude. (4.2.9) Xenophon goes on to make it clear that the reason why the volunteers joined Cyrus and deserted Cyaxares is as much his poor relations with them as Cyrus' excellence. There is a consensus that Cyaxares is a very poor leader (Tatum (1989), 117–23; Gera (1993), 103–4). Early episodes reveal that Cyaxares lacks Cyrus' enthusiasm, is always a follower rather than a leader, and envies Cyrus. In the account of Cyrus' education, Cambyses even suggests that Cyaxares may run short of money or may ‘deliberately deceive Cyrus’ in providing provisions for his Persians (1.6.9). When the campaign is under way, Cyrus' own expeditions are successful but when out of loyalty he follows Cyaxares' advice, the outcome is poor (2.4.6; 3.3.20, 25, 33; 3.3.56). Cyaxares proves particularly unsuccessful in the key area for the leader, which is to win willing obedience. The cause of these poor relations is his savage nature, which contrasts so much with the attractiveness of Cyrus, and which Xenophon takes care to highlight in his reaction to the news of the march of the volunteers in Cyrus' company (4.5.8ff.). Xenophon says that Cyaxares awoke from a night of carousing to find his volunteering Medes almost all gone and fell into an animal rage (ἐβριμου̑το— a very rare and exotic word) when he found out they were with Cyrus (4.5.8–9). Xenophon underlines his reputation as ‘savage’ (ὠμόϛ) and ‘senseless’ (ἀγνώμων) and Cyaxares displays this when he sends a letter telling Page 18 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia the volunteer Medes to return to him immediately.39 He threatens to punish the messenger he sends with the letter if he does not succeed, even though the man points out that it will be difficult to find Cyrus, who is already out on his expedition into the unknown (‘How, master, will I find them?’); Cyaxares just grows (p.273) angrier when the messenger tells him that Cyrus is guided by the Hyrcanians. The messenger goes off, regretting that he did not join Cyrus along with the rest rather than serve such a master (4.5.13). As it is he reaches Cyrus at night and with difficulty and is not let inside the camp until the morning. Here he delivers the news of Cyaxares' ‘rage’ against Cyrus and his ‘threats’ to the Medes. The reaction of the Medes is, predictably, fearful: ‘not knowing how to disobey him when he called them, and fearing to obey him when he threatened them, especially since they knew his savagery’—this is the relationship he has with his followers (4.5.19). Cyrus is said to manipulate the situation further in order to make the troops more loyal to him than to Cyaxares when he softens the message of the letter he has sent.40 But he makes Cyaxares sound much better than he is when he says that Cyaxares is angry because he is fearful and that when he realizes that they have conquered the enemy (as they just have), he will realize that they have not abandoned him and cease from his anger (4.5.20). He reminds them that Cyaxares ‘ordered those who were not averse’ to accompany him, and he insists again that his anger will cease when he knows of their victories (4.5.21). We might do well to consider Cyrus' handling of the matter of the letter in terms of the formulaic pattern of the commander's reaction to bad news where he regularly softens bad news that would damage morale.41 Most of the phases in that topos are present. We have the arrival of the unfortunate messenger with the bad news (4.5.18—no sweating horse for him) and we recognize how in a considerable expansion of the role of the messenger in the usual pattern that reflects on the commanders involved, we learn not only how Cyaxares treats him poorly when he sets out, but how in contrast Cyrus treats him well after his arrival (4.5.22). The effect of the news is demoralization, which is what the topos tries to prevent (4.5.19), but Cyrus then softens the bad news in his comment on the message, as commanders do in that pattern, and this is followed by his command to fall into line in the expectation of imminent battle (4.5.22). It was important to preserve morale in this case not just (p.274) against the enemy but to prevent general mutiny. Cyrus clarifies this threat in his letter to Cyaxares (4.5.32), and in his later comment to Cyaxares that it is dangerous for him to show anger against his whole force because they will unite in full force against him (5.5.11–12). The eventual meeting between Cyrus and Cyaxares has been presented in the previous chapter as a variation on the formulaic pattern of the offended king and the offensive subordinate (pp. 232–44). This formula, along with a reading that takes in as much as possible of Xenophon's careful account of the preliminaries to the subsequent great meeting, allow us to see Cyrus' acquisition in the Page 19 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia volunteers of a greater following than Cyaxares as an inevitable result of Cyrus' superior attraction as a leader rather than a deliberate attempt at disempowerment. The special adaptation within the pattern is indeed the feature that has caused the accidental offence, which is Cyrus' excellent qualities as a commander, against Cyaxares' lack of them. This comes out through comparison with the other versions of the pattern. Lysander's appeal to his followers was based on their familiarity with him and on the access he could provide to Agesilaus rather than any special quality of leadership in him or lack of it in Agesilaus for instance, but Cyrus gains followers entirely because of his superior leadership. In this version of the pattern too, Cyaxares makes two complaints rather than the formulaic one, but this just doubles Cyrus' defence against them, since both of them are met.42 Cyaxares accepts Cyrus' answer to his first complaint that Cyrus has in fact ‘increased’ him, and he shows his acceptance when he then changes tack completely to make his second complaint, which contradicts the first in no longer saying that Cyrus has not increased him, but has increased him too much, and thus made him appear the passive recipient of such terrific benefits. This second complaint is taken as valid on the grounds that Cyrus does not answer it,43 but (p.275) Cyrus responds according to the topos when he asks to be judged by his future service, and this service turns out to be the restoration to Cyaxares of the appearance of a great following. This makes Cyaxares conclude, according to the pattern, that ‘Cyrus had not after all seduced his followers away from him’ (5.5.40).44 We might consider Cyaxares deluded in being content with the appearance of a great following (Cyrus had told most of them to go and return to his service),45 but it was the appearance that made him so angry in the first place, and the illusion of increase is the best that could be managed because he lacked the leadership qualities that would give him a genuine following. The only other option open to Cyrus in this undoubted dilemma of friendship was to insult his uncle by spelling out his inability to win willing obedience. Xenophon confirms that Cyaxares remains a friend to the end of the work when he has him support Cyrus' decision to continue the war and pledge a machine of war, matching the contribution of Gadatas and Gobryas (6.1.19–21),46 and then accept Cyrus' gifts and a palace in Babylon and give his kingdom to Cyrus along with his daughter in marriage (8.5.17–20).47 There is the final charge that Cyrus degrades and ‘feminizes’ Cyaxares as the passive recipient of benefit, taking as evidence of this Cyaxares' comparison of his condition with that of a woman.48 Xenophon and Cyaxares himself in his speech set more positive horizons for the understanding of a woman's condition. When Cyaxares compares (p.276) the loss of his followers to the loss of a wife by her husband, the point of resemblance is the value of the wife for the husband; she is described as ‘what men most of all greet and treat as their most dear possession’, which echoes Croesus' description of a wife; and she is presented as one of several other groups of valuable followers: dogs, servants, Page 20 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia Cyrus' own Persians, his friends (5.5.28–32).49 In the second analogy then, when Cyaxares compares his reception of Cyrus' benefits to that of a wife (5.5.33), he may not know what he says; for though he is thinking of a passive condition, the high value he has himself put on a woman in his earlier image might encourage the reader to believe that Cyrus has simply treated him as the person that any man would hold most dear by bestowing such benefits upon him, and that this is what has been demonstrated by the benefits he has accepted from Cyrus. It would be in keeping with Cyaxares' general blindness to realities about his leadership not to notice his contradiction.

The Pressure of Historical Realities To judge by his various departures from the picture of Cyrus in Herodotus, Xenophon edited out distasteful features he found there concerning the actions and character of the Herodotean Cyrus, but he does not edit out the realities of Persian kingship, such as the costume and appearance of the king, the use of eunuchs, his withdrawal into his palace, and other protocols such as the requirement on people to ‘wait at the gates’ of the king for an interview.50 In fact he gives these realities pride of place when he has Cyrus invent them as part of his new governance (8.2–6), and this has given some the impression that he is deliberately creating a new (p.277) and darker image in the last part of the work as a counter to early sunshine and in preparation for the darkness of the epilogue.51 Yet far from leaving them as signs of a dark change in his leadership, Xenophon seems to me to inform these realities with the principles of his theory of leadership as far as he can. He could have invented an imaginary set of ideal administrative practices but probably found it more effective to tailor known realities to his theory. In either case he was obliged to represent the protocols and practices that Cyrus set up in order to prove the validity of his theory. This theory found the explanation of success in leadership, and Cyrus in forming the greatest empire the world had ever seen had the greatest success the world had ever seen, and the secret of this success included the arrangement for empire that were common knowledge among readers. It followed that if they did not explain Cyrus' success, Xenophon's views on leadership were entirely invalid. As one instance of this, Cyrus must therefore adopt the Median costume and tell his courtiers to do likewise, but Xenophon will make this conform to his theory by giving as his reason not the customary indulgence and effeminacy of the later Persians, but the belief that such costume hid any deficiency in their figures and made them appear ‘most beautiful and tall’ to those they ruled, which prevented them from being ‘easily despised’ (8.1.40–2). It is only in the epilogue we see later Persians indulging in luxury for the comfort it brings (8.8.16–19). Other instances can also be picked out of how Xenophon transforms these historical arrangements.

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Readings of Cyropaedia The Use of Fear

Herodotus highlights the use of fear by Persian kings and this was an historical reality. Xenophon refers to Cyrus' use of fear in the preface to Cyropaedia, but he partners it with favour (1.1.5: ‘he was able to cover so much land with fear of him that he frightened all and prevented any challenge, and he was able to inspire such a desire to please him that they thought it right to be governed by his will’), and then when he recapitulates his relations with the subject nations, he (p.278) eliminates fear and favour alone presides (8.6.23): ‘Men were so disposed to him that no nation, no polis thought they had an equal share until they sent Cyrus whatever fine product their land bore, and each individual thought he would become rich if he did some favour to Cyrus. Yes, because Cyrus took from each what they had in abundance, and gave them in return what he perceived they lacked’. He has transformed Cyrus into the perfect friend. Xenophon approved of the use of fear when it was necessary to preserve the common good. That is evident in Anabasis, in the eulogy of Cyrus the Younger, where he has him generously reward good service, but punish wrongdoers terribly in order to preserve the security of those who do no wrong so that they may go about their business without fear (1.9.13), and also in Xenophon's later defence of beating of soldiers for their own as well as the common good (5.8.18– 26). Proxenus showed how dangerous it was for a commander not to be prepared to use fear against wrongdoers: they took advantage of him (An. 2.6.20). The wise Simonides tells Hiero too (Hiero 10.1) that he will always face the problem of those who challenge him, and for this reason he suggests retaining his bodyguard. Cyrus shows he knows this principle when he wishes to remove from his army those who prove useless and might pose a threat to the others (Cyr. 2.2.22–7), and when he allows the defeated Lydians at 7.4.14, to keep their arms if they glory in their equipment and wish to ‘gratify’ him by their enthusiasm in arms, but strips of their arms those who show no such enthusiasm; this was also for the common good of the military enterprise. In those cases where Xenophon does mention fear, he turns it to serve this common good and other improving theories that he endorses. For instance, Araspas feels tremendous fear because he thinks Cyrus will punish him for his crime, but this is the prelude to the ‘self‐knowledge’ that we find in Tigranes' philosophy and to his forgiveness and rehabilitation by Cyrus.52 He transforms in a different way the role that fear plays in the espionage system of the king's eyes and ears, also known from Herodotus. Xenophon makes it clear that these eyes and ears inspired fear: ‘everywhere people fear to say (p.279) what is not in the interests of the king, as if he heard them, or to do anything not in his interest, as if he were present’ (8.2.10–12);53 but he makes this fear serve the more positive theme of the willing obedience that Cyrus inspired in those who acted as his spies. His focus on this theme is shown in the placement of the account of the espionage system within a section devoted to how Cyrus acquired Page 22 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia friendship and willing obedience (8.1.45–8). Ring composition frames the fear they caused within the willing obedience of the spies. The account begins: ‘We have learned that he secured what are called the king's eyes and ears through nothing more than gifts and honours’, and it ends with the further mention of his gifts ‘I do not know how anyone could account for how he secured this disposition toward himself except that he was willing to bestow great benefits in return for small ones’. Within this framework of benefaction, Xenophon offers the very large numbers of the king's eyes and ears as proof of the widespread willing devotion he inspired: Cyrus won such affection that large numbers willingly acted as his eyes and his ears. Xenophon here goes out of his way to correct the impression that the king had only a limited number of such eyes and ears. This is not so much for historical accuracy but because a limited number of eyes and ears would not support the main point he is making, which is that so many were willing to serve him: ‘If anyone thinks the king chooses one such eye, he is wrong’. Their large numbers are important also because one man could see and know few things and people could easily avoid his detection. It may be significant that when the Herodotean Cyrus forecasts his autocracy as king in the boys' game, he chooses to appoint some boys to build his house, some to be bodyguards, one to serve as the king's eye, another to serve as messenger (1.114.1). Here there is all fear and no favour. (p.280) Proskynesis

The practice of proskynesis was another contemporary Persian reality that could make a mockery of Cyrus' apparent equality with his Persians as well as his subjects.54 Xenophon again minimizes the negative possibilities. Herodotus presented proskynesis before the king as a symbol of the king's autocratic authority (1.119, 7.136, 8.118 with 1.134, 2.80 to other superiors and 2.121 to the gods), but did not show Cyrus receiving it. Xenophon knows that: the Younger Cyrus receives proskynesis from his Persians as a sign that he has won the kingship (An. 1.8.21); the crowd performs proskynesis toward Orontes as their superior (An. 1.6.10). But he mentions proskynesis rarely in Cyropaedia. The gods are the focus of proskynesis on a first mention (2.4.19) and on a second occasion too (7.5.32), and on that occasion those who perform proskynesis to the gods also kiss Cyrus' hands and feet with tears of joy because he has helped secure the victory over the Assyrians that the gods have endorsed (7.5.32). When Cyrus himself does receive proskynesis, it is explained in terms of Xenophon's leadership theory as a homage in return for his benefits to others, and not as a matter of Herodotean enforced protocol: he receives it from prisoners‐of‐war in gratitude for their good treatment (4.4.13), and ‘according to the custom’ from one who seeks to show gratitude in his alliance (5.3.19). Sometimes Xenophon entirely omits the performance where it would seem appropriate, such as when the captive Croesus appears before his conqueror (7.2.9), and when Persians dine with Cyrus on formal occasions: at the end of this his friends only ‘rose to their feet and Cyrus rose with them and showed Page 23 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia them out’ (8.4.27). No Persians show Cyrus this homage until ‘for the first time ever’ on the ceremonial occasion of his first procession out of Babylon, which is exceptional in its formality. Xenophon declares here that people were either under instruction to set an example to others or were naturally in awe of his beauty (8.3.14). Being under orders might imply despotic will, but other horizons of expectation suggest that (p.281) Xenophon approves of this ‘planting’ of the right attitude. This same combination of genuine impulse and ‘planting’ of performance is found when Clearchus wants his men to continue the campaign with Cyrus the Younger (An. 1.3.13: ‘some got up of their own accord, to say what they thought, others under orders from Clearchus…’). The combination recurs in Cyrus' mollification of Cyaxares, where his previous followers take him gifts ‘some of their own volition, but the majority on Cyrus' orders’ (5.5.39). We find Cambyses instructing Cyrus that he should ‘plant’ men to say what he could not himself say without being an ineffective leader (Cyr. 1.6.19), and, using the same term (ἐνετόϛ), Xenophon himself ‘plants’ Polycrates the Athenian to speak on his behalf when he is being criticized, revealing information that sounds better when it comes from someone other than himself and securing the desired effect (An. 7.6.41). Withdrawal

Another unpalatable reality was the aloofness of the Persian kings, with people having to wait at the gates for introduction to their presence. Herodotus gives sinister motives to the Median king Deioces who first introduced the custom (1.99), and waiting at the gates becomes a cliché of historical irritation, for instance in Callicratidas' complaint about waiting on the Younger Cyrus (Hell. 1.6.6–11). Xenophon prepares us to accept this restriction when he has Cyrus in his childhood resent the way in which the Sacian attendant restricts access to his grandfather (1.3.11), but as he grows up, in a memorable phrase, shows us how he ‘becomes his own Sacian’ and respects his grandfather's restriction (1.4.6). As an adult, he withdraws into his palace because it fitted the dignity of the king he had become, but Xenophon prefaces this with a long and involved episode in which he anticipates negative reactions from readers as Cyrus anticipates them from his followers and both secure assent to the arrangement (7.5.37–56). When he has Cyrus persuade those in the story who might have felt the suspicion to approve the new arrangements, he invites his readers to endorse them too. From now on the Persians wait at his gates as an honoured elite, which Xenophon presents as the contemporary reality (8.1.6). Xenophon (p.282) also provides Cyrus with an honourable motive for this in crediting him with the view that attendance at his court ensures that the Persians continue to develop in virtue (8.1.16–20, 8.1.33, etc.). Eunuchs

Xenophon also turns the eunuchs in Cyrus' court into ideal followers according to his leadership theory. Cyrus wins their love by giving them security and honouring them because they are despised by others and have no families to Page 24 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia give them these good things (7.5.59–65). He removes the stigma of effeminacy from them in one of his famous animal images: ‘What one might most normally think (an address to the Greeks?), which is that eunuchs are cowardly, this is not how it appeared to Cyrus either. He observed…that aggressive horses if cut no longer bite and kick, but they are none the less warlike, and bulls when cut no longer bully and disobey, but they still have their force and their ability to work, and dogs likewise…’ The eunuchs return the favour that Cyrus shows them by guarding him, and this same fidelity is seen in Panthea's eunuchs, commemorated in stone for committing suicide on the deaths of their beloved master and mistress (7.3.15). In his comment about what ‘one’ might ‘normally’ think about the cowardice of eunuchs above, Xenophon seems to be countering negative expectation in the audience in order to defend and to justify Cyrus' choice of followers.55 Outside the royal bodyguard, the eunuch Gadatas has already shown Cyrus the worth of such men, as an ally who assisted him in his conquest of the Assyrian (Cyr. 5.2.28, 5.3 etc.). The Enslavement of Subject People

The enslavement of the subject nations by Cyrus also softens realities by informing them with particularly Socratic values. Herodotus had made Cyrus liberate the Persians and make them rulers of the subject nations, and Xenophon does the same, but he has Cyrus impose on (p.283) the subject nations only the philosophical form of slavery that comes from having their appetites indulged, rather than the whips and chains associated with other Persian kings in Herodotus. Cyropaedia 8.1.43–4 shows how Cyrus educated the Persians to rule the conquered nations by developing the endurance and resourcefulness that rulers must have, but educated the conquered peoples to be ruled by indulging their appetites and not allowing them to do anything that would develop free qualities. Their indulgence made the subject nations call Cyrus ‘father’ because he made them so very comfortable, but Xenophon makes their delusion apparent: ‘because he looked after them that they should continue always without a doubt in servitude’ (Cyr. 8.1.44).56 This is one of Xenophon's genuine ironies, in which those who speak do not know what they say. Meanwhile Xenophon's Socratic thought eliminates any negative impression: Xenophon's Socrates endorses the same distinction at some length between those to be educated to rule, who learn self‐control, and those educated to never make a claim to rule, who have their appetites indulged (Mem. 2.1.1–7). The kaloikagathoi would join Xenophon in recognizing a historical reality that endorsed the educational extension of the division of the world into leaders and followers. The comfort of the conquered peoples then explains why these peoples send Cyrus the choice produce of their land and he responds by giving them whatever they need, as producers and consumers rather than warriors (8.6.23).

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Readings of Cyropaedia The Commoners

Among the more revolutionary realities that Xenophon created is Cyrus' promotion of the Persian commoners to make them rulers of the world alongside their previous superiors, those ‘equal in honour’, the homotimoi. Persian laws, we are told, originally gave all citizens access to the system of education that could get them into the ranks of the elite, but poverty limited this access to those who could afford it (Cyr. 1.2). The result was a division into two classes: the privileged (p.284) ‘equals’ who formed an army to defend the land, and the commoners, who produced the goods to maintain them. It was a pressing need for more men to defend the land of Media against invasion that encouraged Cyrus to make the commoners as militarily ‘useful’ as the elite by arming them all alike (Cyr. 2.1.1–19).57 Finding himself unable to meet Cyaxares' request for more soldiers for his campaign against the Assyrians (2.1.8), Cyrus decided to recruit the commoners. He secured the assent of the elite, because they did not wish to have to fight alone and in such small numbers against such an enemy, and then consulted the commoners, proposing to feed them all alike from the proceeds of the campaign, and thus eliminating the need for them to work the land to support the elite as they had previously done. He tells them why they should be as good as the elite if armed and trained in the same way.58 ‘You were born and raised in the same soil, you have bodies not inferior to ours, and it befits you to have souls not inferior either’ (2.1.14), and they accept their new role because they wish to escape their poverty (2.1.19). Cyrus recognized in a realistic way that he faced a challenge in getting these previous unequal classes of men to fight together as one. So he translated their theoretical equality into practice by making the commoners as good as their former superiors through training programmes, competitions, incentives of reward and punishment, and a sense of humour about their failings (2.1.20–31, 2.2.1–31). The question then arose of the distribution of rewards among the army. The choice was between what would in modern society be called ‘equal outcomes’— equal shares of the profits of their campaigns regardless of individual contribution to the common good—or ‘equal opportunity’—reward according to that nature of the contribution (2.2.18ff., 2.3.1–16). Pheraulas the commoner (δημότηϛ), a poor farmer's son, but known to Cyrus since boyhood, an ‘intimate and pleasing’ man in Cyrus' eyes, and in his physique and spirit (p.285) resembling a ‘not ignoble man’ (2.3.7), leads the move toward endorsing reward for contribution, which he sees as promoting a ‘democratic competition’ with the elite (2.3.7–16, esp. 2.3.15).59 The debate about these two kinds of reward was current among political thinkers.60 Xenophon's characters are in the mainstream in endorsing reward for merit: it was generally thought preposterous that everyone in a community should have equal shares of the good things when they had not made an equal contribution in securing them.61 Xenophon's specific reasons for the choice are that if everyone gets the same share regardless of performance, there is no Page 26 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia incentive for men of talent to shine or for poor performers to improve themselves. It is not surprising to find that this same method of rewards is recommended to his overseer by Ischomachus (Oec. 13), on the grounds that the workers who put in the effort would be dismayed to find themselves rewarded the same as those who did not put in the effort. Cyrus' procedures in this revolutionary move are highly consultative in the modern sense.62 The issue is first raised over dinner by Chrysantas, a member of Cyrus' senior staff, and Cyrus endorses reward according to contribution but proposes a wider consultation of the whole army (2.2.17). Chrysantas is the measure of how democratic that is when he objects that Cyrus should just make the (p.286) decision himself; but Cyrus has faith that the commoners will not vote against the idea (20) and he secures assent to this, then he calls the entire army together (2.3.1). Recommending the course he wants, he finds a seconder in Chrysantas, who says that he votes for it even though he is not likely to be among those who benefit since he is not a good fighter, neither large nor powerful, even though pre‐eminent in understanding (2.3.5). Pheraulas stands up next to support the proposal (2.3.7ff.), claiming that fighting and love of winning are natural instincts, relishing the competition that the new principle will encourage and eager to leave behind him a life of agricultural labour that wins him no honour; and so the measure is adopted (2.3.16). The vote is passed more or less unanimously. The result of the integration of the commoners in Persia was not only equal shares in the booty, but in the empire once it was established. Cyrus' father comments: ‘Of those who went with him on campaign, he has enriched the best of them, he has given payment and food to the commoners’ (8.5.23). This recalls Xenophon's own programme to remedy poverty in Poroi, where he imagines the incorporation of metics into the community to boost the economy just as Cyrus envisaged the incorporation of commoners into the army, and he imagines them also enrolling in the military forces (e.g. Poroi 2.5, Hipparchicus 9.6). Pheraulas has a successful career in Cyrus' service and is appointed the marshall of his processions, a formal office in the hierarchy of the court (8.3.2). Cyrus explicitly refers to the authority he has even over the members of the Persian elite in this office: ‘I have told everyone to obey you about the order of the procession’; but he remains realistically aware that tensions continue between the elite and the commoners and he has Pheraulas deliver to his previous superiors sumptuous clothing designed to make them more amenable to his instruction (8.3.6). The elite do resent receiving instructions from the new man: ‘You're a great man then, Pheraulas, when you give even us orders about what to do’; but Pheraulas defused their jealousy by pretending to be just a commoner again—a mere porter of the garments he carried and a mere servant

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Readings of Cyropaedia of their desires (8.3.5–8). This is the deferential service that is the secret of successful management. (p.287) But in spite of his success, Pheraulas still comes to the same conclusion as Cyrus, which is that happiness resides in friends rather than wealth. He makes his last appearance serving Cyrus in the story of how he was brought into friendship with the young Sacian, who had told Cyrus after winning a horserace by a country mile that he would not swap his excellent horse for a kingdom, but he would give it to a ‘good man’ to secure his friendship (8.3.26). Cyrus had him hurl a clod of earth into a nearby group of his friends in order to find that man, and it hit Pheraulas as he raced past on some errand for Cyrus. The Sacian gave him his horse and became his friend. Over dinner Pheraulas tells him that Cyrus made him wealthy (8.3.38), but he finds that his wealth does not constitute eudaimonia and that its administration is a nuisance because of the responsibilities it carries, which prevent him from attending to the friends from which he derives true eudaimonia.63 To find time for these friends, he delegates its management to the Sacian, in imitation of Cyrus (cf. 8.2.15–23), requiring only that the young man give him the normal material support he would give to a friend (8.3.45). Xenophon describes the outcome of this arrangement in terms of mutual but different kinds of eudaimonia, in which one had the wealth he wanted and the other had a manager for his estate and the leisure he wanted (8.3.48, 50). The mutually satisfactory outcome reminds us of the partnerships between rich and poor in Memorabilia 2.7–10.64 Xenophon has Pheraulas dismiss the view in the preface to Cyropaedia that men were least of the animals inclined to give willing obedience (8.3.49–50, cf. 1.1–3). Pheraulas believes that nothing is so pleasant or useful to serve men because they give such a return of friendship (8.3.49): ‘He saw that those who were praised eagerly praised in return, and that they tried to return service with service, and that they were well‐disposed to those they saw well‐disposed to them, and those they knew loved them, they could not hate; and that they wished to honour their parents in return, both living and deceased, (p.288) more than all other beings.’ His relationship with the Sacian illustrates that free and easy reciprocity in Cyrus' Persia. The Law with Eyes

The laws that Cyrus creates for his court and his empire are like the laws of the Persian king that Ischomachus says he implements in his household, which he uses alongside the laws of Solon and Dracon, but finds more effective than those because they reward good performance as well as punishing bad (Oec. 14.4–7). The combination of reward and punishment is certainly typical of the descriptions of the practices of Persian kings in Oeconomicus 4.4ff. and in the obituary for Cyrus in Anabasis (1.9.11–13). But we may need an explanation of Xenophon's comment at Cyr. 8.1.21–2: that Cyrus thought written laws improved people but that the good ruler was a ‘law with eyes’ (βλέποντα νόμον) in that he could give instruction and see the one who disobeyed and punish him. This could Page 28 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia suggest to some that he went beyond his own laws. It is, however, better explained by Xenophon's own horizon of expectations as an indication that he merely had executive power to punish according to his laws. The need for the law with eyes to enforce the written laws reflects the need elsewhere for ‘guardians of the laws’, the nomophylakes, who ensure that citizens obey the written laws at Oec. 9.14, where Ischomachus indicates, in terms very similar to those that Xenophon uses of Cyrus, that he taught his wife that: ‘in well‐ governed poleis the citizens do not think it sufficient to write down fine laws, but in addition they elect keepers of the laws (nomophylakes), who looking into matters praise the one who meets the laws, and punish the one if he transgresses the laws’.65 The ephors in RL 8.3–4 are another example of supervision with eyes: ‘They can punish whomsoever they wish on the spot, they can stop and check officials in mid‐career and put them on trial for their lives’. Xenophon cannot be suggesting that these ephors are above the law since he is focusing in this section on how Lycurgus ensured obedience to the laws; the ephors are just (p.289) his tools. Isocrates also endorses the partnership of written law and enforcement: the Areopagus once educated the population in virtue by means of wide powers of punishment, producing virtue not through written laws, but by the habits of daily life that resulted from their supervision as guardians of the laws (Areopagiticus 40).66 Ischomachus' story of the answer given by the expert to the Persian king when he asked what could make a fine horse strong in the shortest time is another version of the law with eyes that Cyrus the Great exercised (Oec. 12.20): that the rule was ‘the eye of the master’. Ischomachus makes the entirely laudable aim of such supervision clear when he concludes this story: ‘In other things as well, Socrates, the eye of the master seems to me most of all to achieve things that are fine and good (καλά τε κἀγαθά)’.

Conclusion The belief that Xenophon is not really praising Cyrus in Cyropaedia has very few legs. The epilogue confirms the praise and so do his other narrative devices, his formulaic patterns, and the horizons of expectation from his other works. Xenophon adapts the historical realities of Persian kingship to the praise of Cyrus in the same way as he adapted episodes from the life of Cyrus in Herodotus.67 He may seem to have made a curious choice in deciding to turn this ancient Persian king into an ideal leader, but I repeat what I said earlier: that the main reason for his choice is advertised in the preface. Cyrus ruled the largest empire the world had known and this was in Xenophon's theory the result of good governance. If his rule did not conform to Xenophon's theory of leadership, then that theory was left high and dry. It was all very well to find ideal leadership producing success in small communities, but much better to find (p.290) it in the largest empire that the world had ever seen. This explains why he set himself such a challenge in re‐explaining the realities of the Persian court: without them his theory would be invalidated. Curiously he would indeed Page 29 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia have proven his theory false if he had produced the darker autocratic readings of Cyrus, as alleged. Notes:

(1) Luccioni (1947), 246–54: ‘Ainsi, l’épilogue, loin de contredire la thèse contenue dans le reste de l'ouvrage, la vérifie et la renforce', was followed by Due (1989), 16–22, and Dorion (2002). (2) Dorion (2001/2010), 287–8 notes that Strauss made passing reference to this structural contradiction in Cyropaedia. Higgins (1977), 57–8 says that the epilogue's reference to the quarrel of his sons mocks Cyrus' measures to achieve good education as the foundation of his empire, shows ‘the sad sense that all things pass’, and is evidence of Xenophon's perception that Cyrus' rule bears within itself a tendency to decline. Carlier (1978/2010), 362–6 suggests that in writing the epilogue, Xenophon intended us to see a deficient education as the cause of decline, and attributes this to the absolute nature of his rule. Stephen Hirsch (1985a) read the epilogue as unauthentic, which is the older view shown for example in Miller's LCL translation. Tatum (1989), 220–39 read it as the ‘discovery of the limits of fiction’, but suggested that it undermined the praise of Cyrus too. Nadon (2001), 139–46 takes a similarly dark line. Gera (1993), 299– 300 has more moderate views. (3) ‘The contradiction between these sections indicates, according to Strauss, that the author seeks to attract the acute reader's attention to what is at the real heart of his thought: the thought of an author does not reside in what is the most apparent, i.e. the longest part of a given work, but in what attracts less attention, namely the shortest section, in the case of structural contradictions’. In Cyropaedia the shorter statement is the epilogue. (4) See O'Hara (2006) and below. (5) On the epilogue to RL: Gray (2007a), appendix 3. Contrast Strauss (1939) and Higgins (1977), 64–75. (6) ‘Reflecting once that Sparta, though one of the poleis with the smallest populations, emerged most powerful and famous in Greece, I wondered how on earth this came about; but when I grasped the habits of the citizens, I wondered no more. As for Lycurgus who laid down the laws for them in obedience to which they had their success, I wonder at this man and think him wise in the extreme. He, not by imitating the other poleis but by going against the majority of them in his determinations, made his homeland pre‐eminent in happiness.’ (7) Ollier (1934), xiii: ‘un très vif éloge de Sparte et de ses institutions’; cf. Tigerstedt (1965), 169: ‘In his preceding account he has praised Sparta precisely for its obedience to the laws of Lycurgus…’

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Readings of Cyropaedia (8) Luccioni (1947), 167–9 recognized this, followed by Huss (1999a), 405–6 and Dorion (2001). (9) Dorion (2000), 85ff. notes how the argument proceeds. (10) Dorion (2000), 95f. finds it odd that the comparison is with young men who go to another master because Critias and Alcibiades ‘did not acquire another teacher’, but it may be that Xenophon implies that the new master was their passions; he refers to the passions as masters in Oeconomicus 1.18–23. (11) Spartans still obey the laws in Hell. 7.1.8 and Agesilaus 7.3. Dercylidas liked spending time abroad (4.3.2), but was an uncorrupted harmost of Abydus (4.8.3– 5). Thibron was distracted by pleasures (Hell. 4.8.22), but Diphridas was not (4.8.24). Phoebidas was flattered into taking Thebes contrary to his instructions (Hell. 5.2.25–32), but he was not a harmost, whereas Teleutias, who was, gave scrupulous service (5.2.37–5.3.7). Sphodrias was perhaps bribed by the Thebans (Hell. 5.4.20), but he displayed perfect obedience to the laws before that (5.4.32). Hell. 5.4.1 condemns Spartan impiety and injustice toward the Greeks, but not as a product of the corruption of the harmosts or through neglect of Lycurgus' laws. Clearchus is disobedient to the ephors but his ‘corruption’ was merely being too devoted to war (An. 2.6.1–15). None of the harmosts Xenophon meets on his Anabasis are corrupt in this way (An. 6.1.26–8, 6.6.12, 7.1.26–7). (12) Thuc. 1.130.1: ‘Being previously held in great esteem by the Greeks for his leadership at Plataea, he was at that time elevated much higher and was no longer capable of living in the established fashion’ (οὐκέτι ἐδύνατο ἐν τω̑ι καθεστω̑τι τρόπωι βιοτεύειν). He wore Median clothing, ate in the Persian style, had a bodyguard, and was unapproachable (1.130.2). (13) Peace 95–103: ‘In place of their established habits of life (ἀντὶ γὰρ τω̑ν καθεστώτων παρ᾽ αὐτοι̑ϛ ἐπιτηδευμάτων), it filled individuals with injustice, laziness, lawlessness, love of money, and filled the community of the city with contempt for their allies, desire for the goods of others, despite of their oaths and compacts’ (ὀλιγωρίαϛ δὲ τω̑ν ὅρκων καὶ τω̑ν συνθηκω̑ν) Peace, 96. ‘They no longer kept the laws they received from their ancestors, nor did they remain in the values they had previously, but thinking that they could do what they liked, they fell into utter confusion’ (102–3). Isocrates' Areopagiticus, 355 BC extends the commonplace to the Athenians when it describes how such decline alienated the allies of the Athenians in a way that is strikingly similar to Xenophon's alienation of the Spartan allies (Areop. 79–81; RL 14.6). (14) O'Hara (2006) deals in his first chapter with modern approaches to inconsistency in Greek literature. He notes that older approaches saw inconsistency in terms of authenticity or periods of composition, or indeed ironic intention, but there is also the ‘thematizing’ of inconsistencies, and, most fruitfully for our epilogues (p. 10), the idea that the demands of the rhetoric at Page 31 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia any one moment can produce inconsistency, and (p. 16) that the author might misdirect the audience in order to create surprise. The dissonant statements between epilogue and main text in such a long work as Cyropaedia are perhaps too far separated from each other to invite surprise (see below), but in RL, which is a shorter work, the statement that ‘we all know that in Sparta they most of all obey the officials and the laws’ at 8.1 is not so far removed from the epilogue, and may create astonished surprise when we find in the epilogue that this obedience is not as firm as we were led to believe, and that would draw more attention to the message of the epilogue. (15) Hirsch (1985a), 92–4 considered them flagrant enough to challenge the authenticity of the preface, but Due (1989), 33–8, 299–300 dismissed them as insignificant. She lists as examples: 8.8.8 v. 1.2.16; 8.8.12 v. 8.1.34–6; 8.8. 19 v. 4.3.23; 8.8.9 v. 1.2.11, 8.8.10, 12 v. 5.2.17. She confronts Hirsch (1985) on 1.2.16 v. 8.8.8, 8.1.36 v. 8.8.12 as well as his interpretation of 8.1.7. Nadon (2001), 142 says that ‘in almost every case’ the perversions can be traced directly back to the institutions of Cyrus but there is a lot of new material in the epilogue. (16) Luccioni (1947), 250–1 noted this passage, as have others. (17) Nadon (2001), 143 on 8.8.2–5 cites 8.1.24–5, 29, 8.2.9, 8.4.5, 8.1.25, to prove that Cyrus taught people to put service to the king ahead of service to the family and that he honoured people regardless of their virtue, thus doing the same things as the later kings are alleged to do here. But these passages do not show that Cyrus honours such people, and 8.4.5 proves to the contrary that he honoured only good deeds, which indicates the standard from which contemporary kings had declined. Similarly Nadon claims that 8.8.6 and 13 refer to unjust confiscations of property and the settlement of disputes through bribes, but he cites as evidence only 8.2.2 for Cyrus' acquisition of friendship through the ‘benefaction’ of gifts—hardly bribery. Bribery is more in the line of the Assyrian king (1.5.3). (18) Nadon (2001), 144–5 offers 8.1.37–8 to prove that Cyrus cut back on the number of hunting expeditions, but there is nothing of this meaning to be found in the passage. (19) Due (1989), 36–7 found no tension in this; cf. Gera (1993), 299–300 and Nadon (2001), 142–4. (20) Gray (2004b), 392–3, with examples, e.g. 6.1.27–30, 8.1.23–4. (21) Tatum (1989), 215–39 esp. 225–34, following Higgins (1977) and Carlier (1978).

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Readings of Cyropaedia (22) Diogenes Laertius 3.34 makes the connection. Hirsch (1985a), 97–100 summarizes Plato's arguments. (23) Lenfant (2004) F13 (9) = Photius, p. 37 a26–40a5 speaks of eunuchs who held great power in the time of Cambyses, one of whom was powerful in the time of his father too. See also F.13 (13) and (15). Ctesias' interest in Parysatis and other influential women is well attested from Plutarch's Life of Artaxerxes. (24) Socrates admires Persian kings for their dedication to agriculture, warfare, and hard work throughout their empire (Oec. 4). Xenophon's eulogy for the Younger in Anabasis 1 follows suit. Plato, Menexenus 239d6 praises him in order to explain the Athenian conquest; Mem. 3.5 does the same. Plato, Laws 695d–e speaks of the virtue of Cyrus, bred in a harsh land, in spite of the effeminate education of his sons and endorses his good relations with followers, giving them equality between freedom and slavery. Plato, Letters 320d7 mentions Cyrus and Lycurgus as models of character and habits and polity. Alcibiades 1 105c says that Alcibiades thinks that Cyrus and Xerxes are alone his models for success because they ruled such large dominions. (25) Carlier (1978/2010), 332: ‘To imagine such a concealment is not idle. Xenophon, having returned to Athens after more than thirty years in exile, had many reasons to be prudent and to give his work as inoffensive an introduction as possible. Moreover, it was a general habit of Greek classical writers not to declare their personal opinions all the time, but to let the reader often draw their own conclusions: it is in the composition of the work, in the echoes and the subtle contrasts drawn between one passage and another, that the author's intentions are discovered’. Nadon (2001), 161–80 suggests that Xenophon's motive was fear of the Spartans, who would take offence at his transformation of the idealized Persian republic that looked like theirs into an imperial power. He includes the curiously prophetic thought (163–4) that Xenophon foresaw monarchy as the coming form of government in the Greek world and therefore mutes his criticism so that his work would have currency in that era as well as opening up questions about autocracy in his own; he also thinks that Xenophon recognizes shortcomings in all governments and for this reason too he mutes his criticism. (26) Due (1989), 117 concluded through her study of narrative devices that Xenophon's presentation is designed to ‘create an image of the perfect ruler and leader’, followed by Gray (2004b), 391–401. Stadter (1991) examined time and space and other narrative features to support a utopian reading of Cyrus' leadership. (27) The preface has been ironized on various grounds, but see my remarks on the imagery at pp. 48–50, on the use of fear at pp. 277–9 and on the use of followers at pp. 298–300. These are the grounds suggested by Tatum (1989). Page 33 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia Nadon (2001), 27 discovered contradictions in Xenophon's very claim that Cyrus was successful because of his knowledge of rule, but the passages he cites are not compelling (7.5.56; 1.6.23, 46; 3.1.38). 1.6.23 and 46 refer to the limits of human knowledge of the future; but this is different from the knowledge of how to rule, and Xenophon distinguishes between the two types of knowledge in Memorabilia 1.1.7–9. 3.1.38 refers to the belief that ignorance accounts for wrongdoing, but that seems only to confirm that Cyrus succeeded because he knew how to rule. The thought at 7.5.76 that empires are won by daring is said to suggest that knowledge was not needed, but the passage goes on to say that only those who have the moral qualities of leadership, such as moderation, self‐ control, and general application, will be able to retain such an empire once it is won, and they are a product of the knowledge of rule. This passage indeed seems to prove rather than disprove the theme of the preface: governments last only when the willing obedience of the ruled is won through good qualities of leadership, such as those cited in 7.5.76. (28) This began with Strauss, continued in Newell (1983), (1988) and Nadon (2001). (29) Tatum (1989), 87–8 assumes subterfuge: ‘What strategy can Cyrus devise to deal with this most formidable of opponents [his father]?’ Compare Gera (1993), 50–72 on this episode, who emphasizes the Socratic nature of the conversation and the view that Cyrus implements what he learns throughout the rest of the work. (30) Due (1989), 54–62 gave a positive analysis of relations between Cyaxares and Cyrus, but failed to convince Tatum (1989), 115–33, Nadon (2001), 87–100, or Azoulay (2004a). Gera (1993), 98–109 gives a balanced view, but (109): The episode as a whole shows ‘the price that others must pay for the Persian leader's successes’, ‘Cyrus gradually usurps Cyaxares' power and authority, taking charge of the expedition in his stead’. Nadon (2001), 87 considers the episode to be: ‘a masterpiece of political manipulation’. (31) Machiavelli Discourses 2.13 speaks of this deception in his description of how chiefs secure the kingdoms of others, which suggests that this is how he understands the aim of Cyrus' deception, but since Cyrus does not remove Cyaxares from his kingdom by deception, Machiavelli may be as loose with his impressions as others. (32) Tatum (1989), 133. This is said to contradict the respect for relatives credited to him in the epilogue (8.8.27); but compare Cyrus' good treatment of Artabazus, who sought his kiss (1.4.27–8) and remains his faithful friend (5.1.23).

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Readings of Cyropaedia (33) Cyrus' ‘disempowerment’ of his uncle: Tatum (1989), 123ff.; the ‘seduction of [Cyaxares'] troops’: Carlier (2009), 345; the ‘usurpation’ of his uncle's power: Gera (1993), 100. Even the sincerity of the tears that Cyrus sheds in the main encounter is questioned: Tatum (1989), 129f.; Gera (1993) 101. See van Wees (1998), who concentrates alas on tears in Homer. (34) See pp. 233–43 on this pattern. (35) Brague (1974a), 275 and (1974b), 321–2: ‘Professor Strauss proposes that we reread Xenophon following, step by step, the thread of the text, and only rarely gathering from that any general conclusions’. (36) ‘Cyaxares does not see the trap’: Tatum (1989), 125. (37) ‘Cyrus picks up only on the last point’: Tatum (1989), 125. ‘Cyrus pays little attention to the arguments Cyaxares offers against continuing the war’: Gera (1993), 104. (38) Tatum (1989) omits this passage. Nadon (2001), 92 says that the messenger, Artabazus, ‘manages to persuade’ nearly all the Medes to desert (4.1.22), but there is no sign that they needed much persuasion and it is significant that Artabazus is the man who loved Cyrus as a boy (1.4.27–8), a first example of the love that will motivate the volunteer force. (39) Nadon (2001) systematically softens Xenophon's description of Cyaxares at 4.5.9–12, 18–19. (40) Nadon (2001), 94: a ‘gross misreading’ of the letter. Tatum (1989), 126: ‘a careful misreading’. (41) See for this pattern: pp. 196–203. (42) Nadon (2001), 98 finds further reasons unmentioned in Xenophon to blacken Cyrus. In his list of complaints: ‘Cyaxares leaves unmentioned that for which there is apparently no excuse: his failure to inform his superior of the Hyrcanians’ defection, an offense that Cyaxares in his anger seems fortunately to have forgotten'. (43) Carlier (1978/2009), 345: ‘Cyrus finds nothing to say, content to reaffirm his affection for his uncle…Cyaxares' complaints correspond too exactly to the preceding account not to express Xenophon's thinking’. Gera (1993), 106: Xenophon endorses Cyaxares' views because he is ‘granted a moment’ to state his position. (44) Gera (1993), 109: Cyaxares surrenders ‘not so much because of his nephew's persuasive powers as of the author's need to end the impasse’.

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Readings of Cyropaedia (45) Tatum (1989), 133 sees this only as the result of Cyrus' manipulation, but Gera (1993), 108 notes that Cyaxares proves his character when ‘immediately after this discussion, he returns to his old, frivolous ways, keeping all the allied leaders waiting while he puts on an elaborate costume (6.1.1–6); clothing was among the gifts that mollified him (5.5.39). (46) Due (1989), 55–62 against Hirsch (1985a) suggests plausibly that his disappearance thereafter is due to the emergence of the Assyrian King as a better foil for Cyrus. (47) Nadon (2001), 99–100 passes over Xenophon's account of how Cyaxares gives the province to Cyrus as his daughter's dowry, but makes a great deal of the listing of Media among the countries given by Cyrus to his younger son to rule over as satrap (8.5.17–20). (48) Azoulay (2004a), 63, 67, 356, 412f., but cf. p. 65, that Cyaxares is incapable of rule. (49) Gera (1993), 106 is good on seeing this. (50) Gera (1993), 299: ‘Xenophon has Cyrus institute practices which cannot be considered, by the author himself or by his readers, ideal’. She mentions his withdrawal into his palace, his use of eunuchs, his temporary confiscation of property to bring courtiers back to court, the adoption of Median dress, his relations with men of power, his treatment of the subject nations, the scene in which he shows his wealth to Croesus and his confrontation with those who accused him of hoarding wealth. (51) For these realities: Cook (1983); Briant (2002). (52) See pp 215–9. (53) Carlier (1978/2010), 357: ‘Cyrus is a king who does not overlook certain traditional methods of tyrants, for example, the use of many informers (8.2.10– 12). He wins thus the advantages of a king—the sympathy of his subjects—and those of a tyrant—fear’. Newell (1983) proves a reign of terror by attributing the willing obedience in the preface to fear alone, omitting all references to willing obedience, and turning the focus on the momentary terror that is felt by the criminal Araspas as if that was the permanent condition of all. (54) Azoulay (2004a), 313, 430, citing An. 1.8.21, Cyr. 8.3.14. Azoulay (2004c) interprets Cyrus' ceremonial overall as a moderate blend of austerity and luxury. (55) Compare Azoulay (2000) and (2004a), 367–70. (56) Editors have bracketed this part of the text; but it is in keeping with Xenophon's thought and his habit of spelling out the realities. Page 36 of 38

 

Readings of Cyropaedia (57) The principle of recruiting men who are militarily useful is found in Theramenes of Athens, who proposed to enfranchise those who could use their arms to assist the community (Hell. 2.3.48). (58) This is not the only time Xenophon presents commoners as equal to their peers. Thrasybulus addressed the assembled democratic forces after the end of the civil war to the effect that their fighting had showed that they were no less brave or wise or just than the aristocratic opposition that had sought to rule them: Hellenica 2.4.40–2. (59) Some have found sinister implications in Pheraulas. Tatum (1989), 204–8 saw him as the new kind of subject that Cyrus promoted, displacing the traditional elite and totally loyal to himself. But the traditional elite remains vital to Cyrus' government. Nadon (2001), 72–6 said that Cyrus' empire is drawing on ‘the emancipation rather than the conquest of its subjects’ passions'. But he is entirely free of the passion to acquire wealth; Nadon (2001), 150–2 mentions his freedom from this passion only in a later section. Cf. more generously Gera (1993), 173–83. (60) Harvey (1965). (61) Isocrates says that what contributed most to the good government of the Areopagus (Areopagiticus 21–2) was that of the two types of equality, the one distributing the same reward to all, the other according to what each of them deserves, they rejected the former because it was unjust to reward the good and bad alike, and therefore preferred election over the ballot. In Nicocles 14–15, the ruler agrees that it is dreadful to think the good and the bad worthy of the same privileges. (62) Due (1989), 213–14 and for a comparison from modern management theory: Sadler (2003), 65 defines the democratic style (organizing the discussion, and then accepting the majority view), the consultative (which consults but may not accept), the persuasive (that wins to a predisposed point of view), the autocratic (which brooks no opposition). Cyrus' process is of the democratic style. (63) Very Socratic: Antisthenes in Symposium 4.34–44 blesses his poverty for giving him time to spend with Socrates. (64) See pp. 306–14. Gera (1993), 181 found that the ‘owner‐caretaker arrangement’ is to the owner's advantage. (65) Aristotle also mentions the nomophylax as the enforcer of the rule of law: Politics 1287a 20–2. (66) Gagarin and Cohen (2005), 183–6.

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Readings of Cyropaedia (67) Those aware of the realities would experience a tension on reading Xenophon's more positive presentations of them, but to have this undermine the surface praise would be to take as ironic every historian who covers the same ground as his predecessors but praises rather than blames the main characters, and that would be, I think, to misconstrue the nature of historical rewriting.

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The Dynamics of Friendship

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

The Dynamics of Friendship Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0007

Abstract and Keywords Chapter 6 investigates Xenophon's views on friendship, particularly his equation of friendship between rulers and followers with those of more apparently equal status, and the methods used to question this equation. Keywords:   leadership and friendship, Xenophon and Socrates, dynamics of friendship, eudaimonia, meritocracy, followers, leader and follower

Xenophon frequently equates the dynamics of relations between leaders and followers with those between friends in private life and brings attention to the need for the ruler to secure the friendship of his followers in order to secure his eudaimonia, as in Hiero. The equation has been questioned on the grounds that there is always an imbalance of power between leaders and followers in the larger organizations and that this inevitably produces a relationship of dependence of the follower on the leader or of exploitation by the leader of the follower. Xenophon's assertions of the ‘usefulness’ of friends and followers have also been read as the reduction of his friendships, both private and public, to exploitative transactions entirely without sentiment.1 It has been said of Cyrus in Cyropaedia for example: ‘As long as we regard everyone Cyrus meets as a person to be controlled, as someone potentially useful for the future course of his empire, we shall be of the same mind as Cyrus and the writer who created him.’2 This chapter explores Xenophon's understanding of private friendships in the Socratic works and how he transfers the expectations of private friendship to the leader and his friends and followers in Cyropaedia and Agesilaus and other narrative works. It produces a positive image and supplements the general (p.

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The Dynamics of Friendship 292) understanding of ancient friendship as presented by David Konstan, who also has a less exploitative view of Xenophon's presentation.3

Private Socratic friendship Xenophon's presentations of friendship among private people in his Socratic works are particularly on show in the long sequence of conversations at Memorabilia 2.2–10, where Socrates defines friendship as the exchange of benefits for mutual eudaimonia and presents friendships as the most valuable possessions a man can have because friends bestow upon each other all the benefits, material and psychological and other, that a man could ever desire, and where he recommends that his own friends pursue those of special talent as friends in order to achieve security and support and all the other good things in life. Socrates begins this sequence of conversations by mending friendships that have gone wrong between a mother and her son (2.2) and between two brothers (2.3). He is aware of the selfless love that drives the mother to serve the needs of her child without expectation of return when it is too young to repay her; but when a grown son fails to show gratitude for her services, Socrates demands a return of favour in the terms of ordinary friendship, defining his ingratitude as ‘injustice’ (Mem. 2.2.3–6, 9–10; cf. Mem. 4.4.24), and pointing out that that the legal process of dokimasia at Athens punished it with rejection of the candidate (2.2.13).4 In mending the relations (p.293) between brothers too, Socrates recognizes their special bond but speaks in terms of ordinary friendship; he tells the younger brother to win his sibling back through the calculated benefits that are characteristic of friendship relations (2.3). He goes on from family members to give general lectures on the supreme worth of friendship, encouraging people to value their friends as their greatest possession (2.4), to improve their own value as friends to others (2.5), and to seek out and pursue friends of the highest value and worth (2.6). The central metaphor is of friendship as the most valuable possession. Mem. 2.4.1–7 describes the good friend as ‘the most valuable/ powerful possession…the greatest good…that most fruitful thing’. In this sequence we find descriptions of the dynamics of friendship as instinctive and mutual and affective: ‘Men have a natural instinct for friendship. They need one another and they feel pity and they benefit one another by working together, and aware of this they feel gratitude to one another’ (Mem. 2.6.21). ‘What other thing is so completely good? The good friend stations himself against everything that is lacking for his friend, both in the building of his private fortunes and of his public achievements, and if he must benefit someone, he throws his strength in on that side, if any fear disturbs him, he comes to the rescue, helping him make payments, achieve things, secure persuasion or use violence and giving the greatest joy to those who do well and giving the greatest support to those who fall’ (2.4.5–6). In the longest conversation on friendship, which provides a near model for leaders because it concerns political friendships among the Page 2 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship kaloikagathoi in the democracy, Socrates asks Critobulus for permission to make Critobulus attractive to potential friends by saying that he is ‘caring for his friends and rejoicing in nothing more than good friends and delighting in their successes no less than in his own, and rejoicing in the good things of your friends no less than in your own, and never ceasing to contrive good things for your friends and thinking that the virtue of a man is to conquer friends in doing them benefits and enemies in doing them harm’ (Mem. 2.6.35: ἐπιμελήϛ τε τω̑ν ϕίλων εἰ̑ καὶ οὐδενὶ οὕτωϛ χαίρειϛ ὡϛ ϕίλοιϛ ἀγαθοι̑ϛ, καὶ ἐπί τε τοι̑ϛ καλοι̑ϛ ἔργοιϛ τω̑ν ϕίλων ἀγάλλῃ οὐχ ἡ̑ττον ἢ ἐπι τοι̑ϛ ἑαυτου̑ καὶ ἐπὶ τοι̑ϛ ἀγαθοι̑ϛ τω̑ν ϕίλων χαίρειϛ οὐδεν ἡ̑ττον ἢ ἐπὶ τοι̑ϛ ἑαυτου̑, ὅπωϛ τε ταυ̑τα γίγνηται τοι̑ϛ (p. 294) ϕίλοιϛ οὐκ ἀποκάμνειϛ μηχανώμενοϛ, καὶ ὅτι ἔγνωκαϛ ἀνδρὸϛ ἀρετὴν εἰ̑ναι νικα̑ν τοὺϛ μὲν ϕίλουϛ εὐ̑ ποιου̑ντα, τοὺϛ δ ᾽ἐχθροὺϛ κακω̑ϛ). We find here also the metaphor of the victory over friends as well as the victory over enemies that will mark the friendships of leaders below. After this sequence of advice, Socrates is shown to have ‘remedied the dilemmas’ of his own friends, ‘curing’ those caused by ignorance with wisdom, and those caused by lack of resources by teaching them to give each other mutual support (2.7–10). In subsequent books, Xenophon finds friendship even in the oldest profession, the association of courtesan and client. Socrates also tells Theodote who made her living from attracting a ‘friend’ who was ‘willing to benefit’ her, giving him the benefits of her friendship, which were not just sexual: ‘You…know how to best please a friend with your glances or cheer him with your words, how to receive gladly one who cares for you, but shut out the pleasure‐seeker, take special thought for a sick friend and share his great pleasure when he does something fine, and be a delight in all your soul to one who cares strongly about you’ (Mem. 3.11.10).

The Friendship of Leaders and Followers Xenophon describes leader/follower relations in the same terms as those between private friends and their friendship emerges particularly in the bestowal of benefit from the leader on the follower. Cambyses equates the relations with followers as those of friendship in the course of his instruction in how to win willing obedience and he reflects the dynamics found in private friendship above: ‘To be loved (ϕιλει̑σθαι) by one's followers, which seems to me a very important thing, the way is the same as if one desired to be loved (στέργεσθαι) by one's friends: I think the leader should be seen to benefit them’ (εὐ̑ ποιη̑σαι) (1.6.24). These benefits turn out to be emotional as well as transactional, as they were in private friendship. Cambyses recognizes that the leader cannot always benefit his followers in material terms, for instance if they do not win victories and gain material wealth, and in these cases he endorses affective rather (p.295) than material benefits: ‘to be seen to share in their pleasure if anything good happens to them, and in their distresses, if that should occur, and to be zealous in assisting them in their dilemmas, and to fear their failures, and try to see to it in advance that they do not fail…’ (τὸ δὲ Page 3 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship συνηδόμενόν τε ϕαίνεσθαι, ἤν τι ἀγαθὸν αὐτοι̑ϛ συμβαίνῃ, καὶ συναχθόμενον ἤν τι κακόν, καὶ συνεπικουρει̑ν προθυμούμενον ται̑ϛ ἀπορίαιϛ αὐτω̑ν, καὶ ϕοβούμενον μή τι σϕαλω̑σι, καὶ προνοει̑ν πειρώμενον ὡϛ μὴ σϕαλλω̑νται). Cyrus confirms that he has learned the lesson when he says after he has conquered the world with methods like these and now has wealth to bestow (8.2.22): ‘I serve the gods and always reach for more. When I get it, if I see I have too much for my own needs, I cure the needs of my friends with it, and in enriching and benefiting men I get their good‐will and their friendship and from this I reap a harvest of security and good repute’ (τάϛ τε ἐνδείαϛ τω̑ν ϕίλων ἐξακου̑μαι καὶ πλουτίζων καὶ εὐεργετω̑ν ἀνθρώπουϛ εὔνοιαν ἐξ αὐτω̑ν κτω̑μαι καὶ ϕιλίαν, καὶ ἐκ τούτων καρπου̑μαι ἀσϕάλειαν καὶ εὔκλειαν). The language varies but not the concepts: ‘assist the dilemmas’ is to ‘cure the needs’ and the benefits involved are variously rendered. We notice that Cambyses appears to be saying that the leader is to benefit his followers according to the resources that he has to hand, with material wealth where available, but otherwise with other less costly benefits such as human sympathy. This points to the all‐important qualification Xenophon places on all the exchanges of friendship private and public, which is that people in such partnerships should give to the full extent of their ability to give whether their resources are great or small (below). He endorses the corollary of this principle in the cases of leaders when he professes less admiration for the gifts that the great leader gives because they are well within his ability to give, but counts as greater his greater courtesies of care and attention, because these are within the means of everyone to give. He uses this of both Cyruses (Anabasis 1.9.24, Cyropaedia 8.2.13), in the metaphor of ‘having the victory over friends’, which he uses of private friendships too: ‘It is no wonder that he surpassed (ὑπερβάλλειν) others in the greatness of his gifts since he was very wealthy, but to win the victory (περιγίγνεσθαι) in care and attention to his friends, this was more worthy. It is said that it was evident that he was never so ashamed as being outdone in caring for his friends’ (p.296) (8.2.13).5 ‘It is no wonder that he had won the upper hand (νικα̑ν) over his friends in bestowing large benefits, since he was more powerful. But to surpass (περιει̑ναι) his friends in care and a zeal to please them, this seems to me more admirable’ (1.9.24). In the case of Cyrus the Younger too, Xenophon describes the dynamics of his friendship in terms we recognize in other ways, and when he stresses his loyalty in misfortune or loss of success as Cambyses did (1.9.10: ‘He showed in action that he would never let go once he had made a friend, not even if they became lesser in the future, not even if they fared less well than before. It was clear that if anyone did him a favour, or an injury, he tried to outdo them in return’). The reference he makes here to helping friends and harming enemies is found also in Xenophon's accounts of private friendship (below).6 As a result of these dynamics Xenophon can say of Cyrus the Younger that there was no man ‘beloved’ by more people (An. 1.9.28: οὐδένα κρίνω ὑπὸ πλειόνων πεϕιλη̑σθαι). Page 4 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship The Elder Cyrus has an instinct for the operations of friendship dynamics,7 which the Younger seems also to share. Hiero is in contrast a leader who wishes to be loved by his followers but does not have the knowledge to acquire their friendship until he is taught the methods by Simonides. His indictment of tyranny rests on the premise that it nullifies his desire to be loved by others (ἐπιθυμω̑ν ϕιλει̑σθαι) (8.1). He describes the private friendships that ordinary citizens have as a very great good and their dynamics (p.297) are similar to those mentioned by Cambyses above (Hiero 3.1–2): ‘Let us consider first of all whether friendship is a great good for men. Whoever is befriended by people, those who love him show pleasure in his sight and in his presence and pleasure in doing him service (ἡδέωϛ δ᾽ εὐ̑ ποιου̑σι), and they miss him if he is away anywhere, and they receive him with the greatest pleasure when he returns, and they rejoice in his successes and assist him if they observe him failing in any way (συνήδονται δ᾽ἐπὶ τοι̑ϛ αὐτου̑ ἀγαθοι̑ϛ. συνεπικουρου̑σι δέ, ἐάν τι σϕαλλόμενον ὁρω̑σιν).’ And in his vision of reform Simonides shows that the ruler can enjoy benefits not only of the psychological kind, but those benefits and services that preserve his life (11.11–12): ‘so that you would not be just loved, but pursued as beloved…you would not feel fear but inspire fear in others of your suffering anything, you would see people willingly obedient to you and willingly taking thought for your interests…not just allies but champions and supporters…all sharing in the pleasure of your successes…’ (ὥστε οὐ μόνον ϕιλοι̑ο ἅν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐρῳ̑ο…ϕόβον δ ᾽οὐκ ἂν ἔχοιϛ ἀλλ ᾽ἄλλοιϛ παρέχοιϛ μή τι πάθηϛ, ἑκόνταϛ δὲ τοὺϛ πειθομένουϛ ἔχοιϛ ἂν καὶ ἐθελουσίωϛ σου̑ προνοου̑νταϛ θεῳ̑ο ἄν…οὐ συμμάχουϛ μόνον ἀλλὰ προμάχουϛ καὶ προθύμουϛ ὁρῳ̑ηϛ…πάνταϛ μὲν συγχαίρονταϛ ἔχων ἐπὶ τοι̑ϛ σοι̑ϛ ἀγαθοι̑ϛ…). The benefit of physical security is also a feature of private friendships below, and a major service that followers in larger associations can give their leaders. The culmination of Simonides' advice is of course to achieve the usual victory over friends in bestowing benefits upon them (νικα̑ν εὐ̑ ποιω̑ν: Hiero 11.13). The questions not yet answered are whether followers can repay these large benefits and whether these dynamics extend beyond the inner circle around the leader in the larger organizations, but these can also be answered by the comparison with private friendship, in which it is the men of use, the kaloikagathoi, who are most worth winning as friends, and in which the goods of friendship include the security and position that followers alone can give their leaders. These are addressed directly below pp. 315–8, 328–9 but there are preliminaries to attend to first.

(p.298) The Use of Followers Xenophon spells out common concepts and uses a common language in these accounts of the friendships in private associations and in the larger communities of leaders, and part of this currency is that the parties involved ‘use’ each other (χρη̑σθαι). Socrates says for instance of private friendship that ‘those who benefit those who use them are good friends’, and that they pursue such men Page 5 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship ‘because it is a great profit to use men of this sort’ (Mem. 4.4.24). Azoulay (2004b) took this use to be demeaning and exploitative and proof of his view that Xenophon's friendships are coldly transactional; but the references Xenophon makes above to emotion and sentiment extend the dynamics of his friendship well beyond the transactional and Konstan (1997), 80 was right to explain χρη̑σθαι as the verb for the proper way to treat people as intimates.8 It would be more correct to say that the criterion of usefulness is a necessary condition of a friendship that is genuinely equal rather than a degradation of its status. One‐ sided exploitation is also ruled out by Xenophon's references to how followers make ‘use’ of their leaders as well as vice versa. Xenophon describes Socrates as the ‘most useful’ of men to his friends and associates for their practice in virtue (Mem. 4.8.11; 4.1.1, 4.8.1 ὠϕελιμωτάτον). He is not saying that Socrates' associates exploited him. He says also of the friendship of Agesilaus (Agesilaus 11.9): ‘His relatives called [Agesilaus] a lover of relatives, those who used him called him a man without excuse (i.e. in letting them use him), those who served him called him mindful (he never forgot a favour)’. He makes it clear that this use was mutually beneficial when he says earlier that Agesilaus' good services to others secured for himself ‘friends without excuse’ (Agesilaus 6.4).9 Many other contexts also rule out exploitation. (p.299) The neutral ‘manage’ or handle' or ‘treat’ is a more appropriate translation of χρη̑σθαι. Xenophon shows us in other contexts that the evaluation of the ‘use’ lies in the adverb, which alone makes the use ‘good’ or ‘correct’: καλω̑ϛ χρη̑σθαι, εὐ̑ χρη̑σθαι. So, those who are kaloikagathoi are able to ‘use well their household, servants, relatives and friends, as well as polis and fellow‐ citizens’ (Mem. 1.2.48); and ‘Socrates judged good natures from their swift learning of what they attended to, and their remembering what they learned and desiring all kinds of learning through which it is possible to manage household and polis, and in general to use men and the affairs of men well’ (Mem. 4.1.2). Moreover, this correct use of people is in Socrates' final definition to do justice to them, Memorabilia 4.6.5: In using men, can one use them as one pleases? No there are laws that cover this. So those who use one another according to these laws use one another as they should? Entirely. And those who use people as they should use them well? Of course. And those who use men well conduct human affairs well? Presumably. So those who obey the laws do just things? Certainly. The laws dictate correct use in this passage and the use is mutual again, in that people use ‘each other’ according to the laws. Some contexts require more focus on the benefit to the user rather than the used, but other references correct any inevitable impression of a one‐way process.10

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The Dynamics of Friendship When we look to the use of followers by Xenophon's leaders, we find the correct kind of use that works to the advantage of the followers as well as the leaders. This is true of Cyropaedia. In the preface to Cyropaedia, domestic animals offer themselves ‘for use’ in expectation of correct usage, and this is their eudaimonia, as Cyrus himself explains it at 8.2.14: ‘The actions of a good shepherd are the same as those of a good king. The shepherd must make the flock prosper and use (χρη̑σθαι) them in that condition which is the prosperity of flocks, and the good king must make cities and peoples prosper and use them in that condition too’. The correct use of (p.300) human followers by rulers is found also in the Persian education system, where the ephebes and adults offer themselves for their rulers to use ‘on behalf of the common good’ (παρέχουσι…ἑαυτοὺϛ τοι̑ϛ ἄρχουσι χρη̑σθαι ἤν τι δέωνται ὑπὲρ του̑ κοινου̑, 1.2.9, 12, 13). There is a clear preference for ‘using’ others as friends and not enemies in the comment of Cambyses about those who could have used people (ϕίλοιϛ χρη̑σθαι καὶ εὐ̑ ποιει̑ν καὶ εὑ̑ πάσχειν) as friends and benefited from them, but ‘used them as slaves’ instead and suffered at their hands (1.6.45). Cyrus has clearly implemented this correct use when the Persians offer themselves to Cyrus ‘to use as he pleases’ (χρη̑σθαι ὅ τι ἂν βούληται) and the point is made that they cannot be exploited because they share the same mutual interests: ‘Know this well, that Cyrus will by no means be able to find what he will use to his own advantage, but not to ours, since our interests are the same and our enemies are the same’ (8.1.1–6). Cyrus' response was to make them ‘joint‐guardians’ of the empire for their own benefit and his (8.1.10–11). As for allies, in return for Cyrus' protection of his beloved wife, Panthea, Abradatas offers himself to Cyrus as his ‘friend and servant and ally’ and as a ‘fellow‐worker’: Cyropaedia 6.1.45–9. As for enemies, the defeated Egyptians ask Cyrus when he has defeated them how he will think it right to ‘use them’ and he replies that it will be by giving and receiving good (εὐ̑ ποιει̑ν, καὶ εὐ̑ πάσχειν, 7.1.43). He then includes them in his army, exempting them from marching against Croesus their former friend and giving them land to settle on and other gifts after the war; they respond by continuing to be loyal followers of the Persians even down to Xenophon's own times (7.1.44–5). Xenophon expected the same good use when he ‘gives’ himself and his men to Seuthes as friends to use in his wars; from his perspective there can be no negative exploitation and his men duly benefit from the employment (An. 7.3.30–1).

Leadership in Private Friendship It is significant for Xenophon's extension of friendship into the relation between leaders and followers that the mutuality of private relationships is expressed in terms of leadership, as taking turns in (p.301) giving benefits and receiving them and therefore in a kind of leading and following. Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 5.5, 1132b32–1133a5 endorses this in his discussion of private friendship, that ‘one must return favour and then take the lead oneself in returning it’ (ἀνθυπηρετη̑σαι γὰρ δει̑ τῳ̑ χαρισαμένῳ, καὶ πάλιν αὐτὸν ἄρξαι χαριζόμενον). Page 7 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship The principle is ‘rule and be ruled’ ἄρχειν τε χαὶ ἄρχεσθαι which Xenophon found in various education systems as well (RL6.2; Ag. 2.16; Cyrop 4.1.4, 1.6.20, An. 1.9.5, 2.6.15). This equation of leaders and followers with friends is found in the conversation about the brothers at Memorabilia 2.3, which has special interest not just for that finding, but for defining brotherhood as friendship, and because it has been claimed that Xenophon presents the friendships of the brothers as the only non‐ exploitative relationship in all the conversations mentioned above from Memorabilia.11 In fact the brothers use one another for their own security and benefit just as much as private friends, and the proper ‘use’ of a brother just means the regular bestowal of benefit (2.6.7). There has been a breach between the brothers in the conversation and Socrates has chosen to address the younger of the two. He begins by outlining the usefulness of a brother (2.3.1–4) and provokes the younger to complain of his own brother's complete uselessness, which he diagnoses as a failure of ‘correct use’ in the younger brother (5–9: ‘ignorance of how to use a brother’, ἀδελϕω̑ι χρη̑σθαι). The younger confesses this ignorance of how to make his brother ‘as he should be’, but Socrates simply equates it with benefit and reminds him of the small gestures of friendship that he would use on others if he wanted to win their friendship (10–14). He teaches him the principle of ‘taking the lead’ in such overtures and says that he would have appealed to the elder brother if he had appeared ‘more leaderly in respect of this friendship’ (ἡγεμονικώτεροϛ πρὸϛ τὴν ϕιλίαν ταύτην: 2.3.14), but that for the moment he treats the younger as ‘leading’ (ἡγούμενοϛ). He objects that ‘leading’ (καθηγει̑σθαι) is inappropriate for him because the elder should ‘lead’ in word and in action, but Socrates explains that the services he recommends are in fact the initiatives of one who is junior, since their basis lies in (p.302) deference and not in domination (15–16). It is evident that his correct ‘use’ of his elder will make him one of those kaloikagathoi who are able to ‘use well their household, servants, relatives, and friends, as well as polis and fellow‐citizens’ (Mem. 1.2.48). In the friendship between brothers we see the regular dynamics of private friendships as well as leader/follower relations, for example in the metaphor of winning the victory in friendship. When the younger boy asks Socrates for instance: ‘What if he does not improve in spite of what I do?’ Socrates responds: ‘Only that you will show yourself to be good and brother‐loving, and he low and unworthy of your service’ (17); but he expects that his brother's nature will lead him out to the usual ‘competition’ in benefit that he will be ‘most ambitious to win’ (ϕιλονικήσειν ὅπωϛ περιγένηταί σου καὶ λόγῳ καὶ ἔργῳ εὐ̑ ποιω̑ν) that will make him the leader in their partnership in his turn. We also see the rather more specific benefits that leaders bestow on friends and followers. Cambyses teaches Cyrus that he has to make his followers ‘as they should be’ (Cyr. 1.6.7), which implies the improvement of their skills and their general quality (1.6.26), just as Page 8 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship the younger brother is to make the other ‘as he should be’, which is there equated with ‘excellent’ (οἱ̑ον δει̑, βέλτιστοϛ: 2.3.9–10), through his benefits (εὐ̑ ποιει̑ν).12 Socrates teaches the younger brother to take the initiative in honouring and assisting his brother, inviting him to sacrifice, entertaining him, looking after his affairs, giving up his seat to him, standing aside in the street, giving in to his words (2.3.15–16). These are the kinds of actions performed for the honoured man in Hiero 7.9 and sacrificing and visiting the sick are the tokens of friendship that Simonides tells Hiero to use in winning friendship (Hiero 8.3 and also Cyr. 8.2.24–5). Socrates also recommends that the rich man who is courting the friendship of the poor one at Mem. 2.9.4 take the initiative in inviting him to attend a sacrifice. These actions count among other actions such as praise and kind words that constitute the ‘spells’ and ‘charms’ that win friendship in Memorabilia 2.6.9–13. The metaphor of inviting the older brother to a competition in winning the victory in bestowing (p.303) benefits is of course another cliché of the operations of more formal leadership above. Xenophon's account of the friendship between the brothers matches his other descriptions of friendship then, including those of leaders, in accordance with the universality of his theories.13 Konstan (1997), 79 finds evidence of a distinction between family and friends at Mem. 2.4.1, where Xenophon has finished discussing the problems of mothers and brothers and changes the subject to friends: ‘I also once heard him on the topic of friends saying things that I thought would give great “assistance” to a person in the acquisition and use of friends’. Xenophon does recognize brothers and mothers as different from friends, but he does not seem to differentiate them in terms of what constitutes their ‘correct use’. In the conversation about the brothers he refers to the brothers as ‘friends’ (2.3.3: ‘as if friends can be made from citizens but not from brothers’), and he has just before this apparent change to the new topic of friends described the brothers in the dual as ‘friends’ (2.3.19: ‘brothers, being friends’). He uses the same image of the pair of hands and eyes to describe the coordinated assistance brothers give each other (2.3.19) and again to describe the relations of ordinary friends in the conversation that seems to address the new topic (2.4.7). The intensity of the parental benefits to the child or the common rearing and blood of brothers makes them different from ordinary friends, but when the bond breaks, it seems that the more transactional side of friendship must intervene. Xenophon makes it clear that the mother cannot anticipate a return of favour from her infant when she preserves it in its early life (2.2.5–6), but when he grows up, her son needs to learn to return her favour as in other friendships. The brothers also have their affection, but their blood links and common rearing have not prevented the elder brother from breaking the friendship, which then requires a more transactional (p.304) remedy. The bond between brothers is overlaid with the normal reciprocity of friendship again at Cyr. 8.7.14–16 in the case of the royal Persian brothers, sons of Cyrus, where Xenophon makes the same point as he makes about the son's failure to Page 9 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship repay the mother's benefit in private life: that if a royal brother fails with a brother, no one else will trust him. The main point Xenophon makes about brothers in private and in public life is the security they give each other in spite of their other emotional bonds. He confirms that the acquisition of half‐brothers in Sparta ‘increases’ the family's power (RL 1.9: ‘The men wish to secure brothers for their children who have a part in the clan and its power, but no claim to the inheritance’).

‘According to Ability’ Before proceeding to elucidation of how the friends and followers of a great man could ever repay the large benefits he bestows on them, or in what sense this might apply to his more geographically remote relations, we need to appreciate a principle behind Xenophon's theory of public and private friendship that has enormous importance for leader/follower dynamics, and this is that equality is maintained in any relationship in his view when benefits are exchanged ‘according to ability’. Aristotle was of the view that those of unequal power cannot enjoy ideal friendship:14 ‘The most obvious case is the gods’, he says (NE 8.7, 1158b33–1159a3 at 1158b35), but he qualifies this statement by saying that the virtuous way i.e. the way of piety was to repay them ‘according to ability’.15 Xenophon was there before him, as in other matters, and we therefore start with the gods as Xenophon regularly did. Xenophon's view of the gods is that they are men's greatest friends, because they bestow the greatest benefits on mankind and are the (p.305) most philanthropic of beings, most helpful in creating man's shape for his benefit and creating the world for his benefit too (Memorabilia 1.4, 4.3, also. 2.1.33, 1.4, 4.5, Symposium 4.47–8). Xenophon describes a man's relations with the gods in terms of friendship with other men more than once: ‘Just as in courting men you recognize those willing to court you in return and in doing them favour you recognize those who repay favour and in advising them you recognize those of sense, why not make trial of the gods in courting them to see if they are willing to advise men about things unknown…’ (Mem. 1.4.18). Xenophon recognizes that the benefits of the gods are too great to repay on equal terms, but that the virtue of piety is fully shown if one repays them ‘according to ability’. He first introduces the principle as the one that Socrates taught at Memorabilia 1.3.3: ‘In making sacrifices, he did not think that small ones from small means were of less value than many great ones from abundant great means’. Socrates' reasoning is that otherwise the gods would be more pleased with sacrifices from wicked men than from the good, but he declares that they are pleased rather with honours from those who are ‘most pious’, This is followed by his quotation of Hesiod's remark about giving to the gods ‘according to ability’: καδδύναμιν as poetic justification of this principle: καδδύναμιν δ᾽ἔρδειν ἱέρ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι θεοι̑σι.

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The Dynamics of Friendship Socrates seems here to define piety in a way that anticipates Aristotle and he then extends this principle to the virtuous treatment of friends and guests: ‘And with respect to friends and strangers, and with respect to the other practices of life, he said that “according to ability” was fine advice’.16 He applies this principle to the gods in his conversation with Euthydemus about the need to show piety. Here Euthydemus despairs that a man ever could ‘repay the benefactions of the gods with worthy returns of favour’ (Mem. 4.3.15), but Socrates introduces the principle of ‘according to ability’ (κατὰ δύναμιν) in order to equalize the exchange, and this time there is a special twist. Socrates repeats the line from Hesiod when he tells Euthydemus that there is a law everywhere to please the gods with sacrifices according to one's (p.306) ability: νόμοϛ δήπου πανταχου̑ ἐστι κατὰ δύναμιν ἱεροι̑ϛ θεοὺϛ ἀρέσκεσθαι, but he extends this principle to require Euthydemus as the rich man to give according to his greater means: ‘There is a law everywhere that one should please the gods with sacrifices according to ability. How could one honour the gods better and more piously than by doing as they say; but it is important that you not fall short of your ability (τη̑ϛ μὲν δυνάμεωϛ μηδὲν ὑϕίεσθαι); for when one does this, he is clearly not honouring the gods’. ‘So, not falling short of honouring the gods according to ability (κατὰ δύναμιν), you should take heart and expect the greatest benefits from them’ (4.3.16). It is the recognition also of the principle of according to ability that allows Hermogenes in Symposium 4.47– 8 to tell Socrates that it is not at all expensive for him to secure the friendship of the gods: he praises them, he speaks well and never forswears; he is clearly a man of lesser means than Euthydemus.

Friendships of an Uneven Kind between Rich and Poor ‘According to Ability’ Xenophon's principle of according to ability, which requires a greater contribution from those of greater means and a lesser one from those of lesser means, has a potential to balance out a variety of apparently unbalanced relationships not only between gods and men, but also in Socrates' extension of the principle to relations between human friends. In particular it answers the allegation that the sequence of conversations at Memorabilia 2.8–10 endorse friendships between rich and poor within Athens that are unbalanced and exploitative in spite of their surface pretensions and that they foreshadow his presentation of unbalanced relationships of dependency in the more political relations of rich and poor in the Athenian democracy.17 In these conversations Socrates tells an impoverished friend working as a labourer on a farm, who will soon be too old to work, that he should instead become the manager of a rich man's estate; in another (p.307) he encourages a rich man to befriend a poor but talented citizen to drive away the sycophants that plague him in the courts; in another a rich man is encouraged to take an impoverished citizen as a friend of potential general excellence.

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The Dynamics of Friendship There are some immediate objections to the view that Xenophon offers these friendships as exploitative. To fit that view, Socrates must abandon his views about the mutual benefits of friendship in passages cited above and must also become a moral monster, because some of those whom Socrates is allegedly offering for exploitation are Socrates' own friends. The implications for Xenophon are also bleak, because the reading requires that he secretly admire Socrates for his treachery. The darker reading also makes the dramatic situation strained because the interlocutor for two of these conversations is the rich man, who would be mightily puzzled by Socrates' concealment if he were being encouraged to exploit the poor in such an opaque fashion as he is alleged to do. But the major objection to those views is the application of the principle of ‘according to ability’. Xenophon spells out its application in his general introduction to this sequence of conversations at Memorabilia 2.7.1: Socrates is said to have ‘cured the dilemmas (ἀπορίαϛ) of his friends, those caused by ignorance (ἄγνοιαν) through wisdom and those caused by need (ἔνδειαν) by teaching them to assist “one another according to their ability” (κατὰ δύναμιν ἐπαρκει̑ν ἀλλήλοιϛ (2.7.1).18 This introduction also presents everything else in accordance with the expectations we have acquired from his images about the mutuality of the benefits of friendships, about ‘assisting one another’ rather than exploiting one another, and particularly assisting friends in distress (see above p. 295), which Cambyses also taught Cyrus to offer his followers: ‘to be zealous in offering assistance to them in their dilemmas’: συνεπικουρει̑ν προθυμούμενον ται̑ϛ ἀπορίαιϛ αὐτω̑ν. Socrates confirms elsewhere too that he has a special interest in supporting the poor.19 The first conversation has Eutherus as the impoverished person, described as an old comrade of Socrates, who has lost his properties in the war. Eutherus says that he prefers to labour on the land to get (p.308) his living rather than ‘have a need for’ another man: δει̑σθαί τινοϛ ἀνθρώπων. Of course he speaks to Xenophon's agenda, in which Socrates is advising his friends to assist each other according to ability because of need: ἔνδειαν. Here is a man who has a need for a friend, but does not like the idea. Socrates ‘cures this ignorance’ as the general introduction says by teaching him that men do need each other. He points out that he will soon be old and no one will pay him a wage for his labour.20 The man agrees, so Socrates tells him to approach an owner of land who has his own ‘need’ for assistance from a manager (τῳ̑ δεομένω του̑ ἐπιμελησομένου) and manage it at his side, thereby satisfying the rich man's need and his own. This satisfaction of mutual need is thought likely to produce a situation of ‘benefiting and being benefited in return’—the language of mutual friendship (ὠϕελου̑ντα ἀντωϕελει̑σθαι) and a partnership in which he will be ‘bringing in the harvest and guarding the house with him’.

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The Dynamics of Friendship The old comrade suggests that such an arrangement would be an ‘enslavement’ that he could not endure, but Socrates compares his role as manager of the rich man's land to that of leaders (προστατεύοντεϛ) in cities who manage the public wealth: these he says are not ‘considered slavish’, but ‘free in the highest degree’. The man raises a fresh objection: that he does not wish to be subject to blame from anyone. Socrates tells him that no task is free of blame, not even his present labouring, and that he should try to find the right kinds of people to judge his work and try to do his best to avoid blame. Socrates refutes the view that such a relationship would enslave the poor man to the rich one, but the darker reading champions the refuted view as the one that Socrates really champions. The refutation is taken to be merely ‘a strategy of legitimation’ to make Socrates' surface appearance acceptable to the ignorant majority in the audience, while the more informed audience can see that he is really encouraging Eutherus to enter into ‘une relation inégalitaire de longue durée, fondée sur un échange dissymétrique de services’ (p.309) (Azoulay (2004b), 292). Yet Xenophon regularly has the interlocutors raise objections to the partnerships Socrates proposes in these conversations, only to have Socrates refute or discredit them, and such objections are regular in many other conversations as well. We are in danger of saying that none of Socrates' refutations are sincere when we pick out one refutation that stands among many of a similar type. The conversation follows the regular pattern too in having the poor man respond to Socrates' refutation of his first view that the proposed relationship is enslavement with the different objection that he does not wish to incur blame. A typical example is Aristodemus in Memorabilia 1.4.9–10. The poor man is silent in response to the second but silence is again a regular response to Socrates' arguments at the end of a conversation. Socrates' advice is so banal that an intellectual reader might suspect some hidden sophistication, but he is just following the agenda of the conversation when he ‘cures’ the ‘lack’ and ‘distress’ of a friend that proceeds from his ignorance. We see in other definitions of friendship that this is precisely what is required of a friend such as Socrates. The principle of ‘according to ability’ redresses any other imbalance in the relationship. The benefit to the poor man could put him in the rich man's greater debt because his life depends on securing the relationship, whereas the landowner's life does not depend on the lack of a manager, but the rich man still has a need for him and even where he does bestow greater benefit, the poorer men are still equalizing the exchange if they give a return according to their ability. The value to the recipient should be measured in relation to the need but also the intention of the giver and his ability to give.21 The poor man's services may hit the mark if they represent the full extent of his ability, the rich man's gifts may fall short if they do not reflect his greater resources. The landowner can easily support Eutherus ‘according to his means’, but a share in the work on the estate is equally easy for Eutherus ‘according to his means’. In order to Page 13 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship establish a slavish dependence for the poor man, we have to go outside the (p. 310) conversation to an imagined later history where the landowner did exploit him in some way, but Socrates advises us against imagining the worst by warning Eutherus to choose his rich man wisely. We could hope that the right kind of landowner will fully value what serves his own good. This is certainly the scenario in the other conversations, to which we turn next. Memorabilia 2.9 illustrates the assistance Socrates gave to Criton, a rich man who is prey to sycophants, by putting him in partnership with a poorer man who was such an able speaker and operator in the courts that he was able to keep such sycophants at bay. Again, the benefit is mutual and ‘according to ability’. Socrates suggests that just as Criton maintains a dog to keep away the wolves from the flocks on the grounds that there is ultimate ‘profit’ for him in this, so he should find a man to keep away the sycophants. Criton is distrustful because he is so much under siege from them, but Socrates tells him that ‘it is much more pleasant to get assistance (ὠϕελει̑σθαι) by pleasing a man rather than being hated by him’ and that in times such as these (of impoverishment through war) there is an abundance of men who would ‘have the love of honour’ to ‘use him as a friend’ (ϕιλοτιμηθει̑εν ϕίλω σοι χρη̑σθαι). They then identify Archedemus, who is a poor man, but has judicial expertise to use against the sycophants, which is his living. Criton begins to share his agricultural produce with him and call him to sacrifices as leaders do in such relationships. Archedemus is sufficiently impressed to respond and give Criton the use of his judicial expertise and drive off the sycophants, making them pay money to Criton in the process instead of blackmailing him (5–6). There is evidently a need on both sides that is being satisfied. Good news spreads. As when a shepherd has a good dog and the others want to use him to protect their herds too, many of Criton's friends ‘asked for/needed’ (ἐδέοντο) the use of Archedemus to satisfy their own needs. He gladly helps them out of gratitude to Criton, giving all of them peace from the sycophants. The darker reading arises again from a view that is discredited within the conversation. This is the taunt that Archedemus hears (‘if ever’) from the sycophants themselves, whose judgement on the relationship was that he was a toady and a flatterer (κολακεύειν). We cannot take it as a creditable view not only because it is put in the mouth of those who hated Archedemus: τούτων οἱ̑ϛ ἀπήχθετο, but (p.311) because it is refuted by Archedemus himself with a rhetorical question. He asks this enemy whether it was shameful for a man to be benefited by good men and give benefits in return and make such men his friends, and to be differentiated from the bad, or by trying to wrong the kaloikagathoi to make them your enemies, and join bad men in doing wrong and try to make them your friends and use them instead of the others. We already have the answer to this question from Socrates' indication that the friendship of good men was preferable (2.6.7). Criton and his friends fall into this category, and the sycophants into the second. We might imagine for a moment that Page 14 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship Archedemus refutes the view because he is ashamed or defensive about it, but Xenophon in his own voice confirms the integrity of his relations with Criton in saying right at the end of the conversation that he was one of Criton's friends and was ‘honoured’ by Criton and his friends (εἱ̑ϛ δὲ τω̑ν Κρίτωνοϛ ϕίλων ή̑ν καὶ ὑπὸ τω̑ν ἄλλων Κρίτωνοϛ ϕίλων ἐτιμα̑το: 2.9.8). Toadies do not receive honour from those on whom they fawn, but friends receive honour from each other in the usual operation of the dynamics of friendship. In this case there is no need even for an appeal to ‘according to ability’ to balance the debt because without Archedemus, Criton would continue to be prey to the sycophants and lose his wealth to them as well as his peace of mind. Archedemus' skill in freeing him from the sycophants is therefore worth its weight in gold. It is hard to think that he receives more than he gives on that score. In the final conversation Socrates urges his comrade Diodorus, the rich man, to make a friend of Hermogenes, who is suffering from need and is another friend of Socrates. Socrates begins by drawing out the attention Diodorus gives to his slaves. He then suggests that he should have a greater care for one who is much more useful to him than slaves, and yet is fading away through need (the ἔνδεια that Socrates is curing in this section). This man is Hermogenes, and he is described as one who would ‘be ashamed to receive assistance and not return it’: ὠϕελούμενοϛ ὑπὸ σου̑ μὴ ἀντωϕελοίη σε. Socrates says that to have as a friend a man who is a ‘willing helper, of good‐will, who would stay by him and is able to do what he is bidden, and not only that, but is able on his own initiative to be useful and take care and counsel for him in advance’, this is worth more than many slaves. Good managers, Socrates advises, continuing the tried and trusted (p.312) image of the friend as a material acquisition, buy items of great value when the price is low, and the impoverishment of wartime provides that circumstance in which a man can ‘obtain good friends’ quite cheaply. Diodorus likes this advice and tells Socrates to send Hermogenes to him. But Socrates makes it plain that the relationship is on equal terms. No, says Socrates, the rich man should take the initiative—because there is no greater benefit to Hermogenes in this arrangement than there is to Diodorus: ‘I think that it is not nobler for you to call him here than to go yourself to him, nor is it a greater good to him that these things be achieved than to you’. Xenophon is not concerned to specify the nature of the favours Diodorus and Hermogenes will exchange, because he means us to understand by his final sentence that Hermogenes ‘truly said and did whatever he could think of to give him assistance’. In this case there is no defeated view that can be championed. The dark reading finds a ‘vocabulaire marquant fortement la dépendance’ in the passage (p. 293); but ‘willing servant’ (ὑπηρέτην ἑκόντα) is regular in descriptions of willing obedience, and the assessment of a friend's worth as greater than that of ‘many’ slaves' is a regular part of the discourse on friendship (Mem. 2.5), as is Hermogenes' shame ‘not to repay assistance after receiving it’ (ὠϕελούμενοϛ Page 15 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship ὑπὸ σου̑ μὴ ἀντωϕελοίη σε) and his desire to ‘assist and delight’ Diodorus (ὠϕελοίη τε καὶ εὐϕραίνοι) are regular features of Socrates' description of friends elsewhere. The paradoxical conclusions about Socrates' endorsement of exploitation between the rich and poor in these conversations are part of the argument for allegations of imbalance in Xenophon's more political relationships: in the relations between Agesilaus and citizens in Sparta and in Athens between the rich and the poor.22 In fact these conversations do not deal with relations between rich and poor in their political guise, since the poor men are often men of previous wealth, who have lost their property. Socrates is nevertheless said elsewhere to present the liturgies in particular as an unwelcome obligation on the rich that reduced the demos to dependence because (p.313) they were unable to repay them (Azoulay (2004a), 78–81), and this debasing opinion is distinguished from the more regular one that there was always a return of honour for such service (82–90). We do find rich men regularly lamenting the miseries of serving the demos in Xenophon's works, but they are told with equal regularity that it is their duty to contribute to the polis and that this brings the same rewards as any other kind of leadership.23 Xenophon in fact does assume the regular return of honour to the liturgist when he indicates that men spend a lot of money on choral competitions to get prizes of little material worth (Hiero 9.11; Hipparchicus 1.26, where the motive for liturgic service is ‘love of competition’: ‘it is clear that in choral production, many efforts are made for the sake of small prizes and great expenses are contributed’). He must also endorse the greater contribution of the liturgist because it reflects his principle of ‘according to ability’, as well as Socrates' view that the passage from Homer taught people to chastise those rich men who made no contribution to the polis (Mem. 1.2.58–60, above pp. 121–4). Oeconomicus 2.5–6 is adduced in evidence for the darker view, where Socrates teases Critobulus that he has to provide liturgies and yet gets no return (Azoulay p. 80: ‘contraint de donner, Critobule ne doit attendre en retour aucune charis de la part des bénéficiares de sa générosité forcée’), and Symposium 4.45, where Callias envies Antisthenes for his poverty because the polis does not make demands on him and people do not grow angry if he refuses them a loan; but these views need to be measured by their contexts. What Socrates says to Critobulus emphasizes the financial burden of the liturgies because he is demonstrating the paradox that Critobulus is poor in spite of his wealth, so we can expect exaggeration; and even in this context, Socrates mentions repayment from the demos in the form of ‘alliance’ for the liturgist (2.5), which is the regular return from followers elsewhere and provides the security that the leader wants against his enemies (Hiero 11.10, 12; see also the need for allies in friendship at Mem. 2.6.27). The wealthy Ischomachus, whom Socrates presents as the model for Critobulus in this same work, (p.314) mentions the liturgies he also performs (Oec. 7.3) but maintains: ‘it is a pleasure to me to honour the gods in grand style, to assist my friends if Page 16 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship they need anything and to ensure that the polis is not unadorned in any respect by my money according to my ability’ (Oec. 11.9). That ‘adornment’ is part of the liturgists' duty. Callias does say that the polis makes demands on his wealth, but Socrates finds nothing wrong with this and he encourages Callias to serve the polis as their leader apparently in spite of this (Symposium 8.43). Aristippus is another person who sees service to the demos as enslavement, but Socrates also enlightens him about its rewards (Mem. 2.1.19). Attention is drawn to the ‘dependant’ type of citizen that is identified as the product of the alleged imbalance in the Athenian democracy (Mem. 2.6.2) but the type is not offered as a political specimen but as a general specimen of the kind of person whom Socrates and his interlocutor are rejecting as potential friends; there is no reason to assume that they are members of the demos or that they are poor.24

(p.315) Relations between Leaders and Followers We now return to the balance of payments and the possibility of equal friendships between leaders and followers. Xenophon confirms that the principle of ‘according to ability’ applies to leaders when he comments that Cyrus shared in the joys and pains of his followers and took care for their welfare and laboured for them when he lacked wealth, but when he acquired wealth, he had this ability and gave this to them as well (Cyr 8.2.2). We see the principle at work also in the corollary, in which Xenophon dismisses the leader's great gifts when he has attained his greater resources because they are well within his ability to give and therefore count for less, but counts as greater his courtesies of care and attention, because these put him on an equal footing with his followers (the two Cyruses: An. 1.9.24, Cyr. 8.2.13). But what of the follower's contribution and repayment of benefit to his leader? We might just say that if a man can equalize his balance with the gods by giving according to his ability, he should certainly be able to equalize his balance with his human leaders. If we take the services of the poor men to the rich ones in the conversations from Memorabilia 2.7–10, we can see that managing his estate, acting against his accusers, and giving him any general assistance he wants could count among the benefits of a follower to a leader as much as of poor men to the rich. Those conversations set the measure of balance as the ‘need’ of the greater man for the services of the lesser man as much as vice versa. There is moreover an area of the leader's ‘need’ in which even the principle of according to ability need not be invoked to equalize the account, where the benefit the follower bestows to meet the leader's ‘needs’ is such as only a follower can provide. This is that the follower gives the leader the irreplaceable boon of his following, and he guarantees his security in a way of which no bodyguard is capable, however large. The leader's security is Xenophon's major concern. We have seen in private friendships that the good things that friendship can bring include not just financial security, not even just emotional security, (p.316) but the security of Page 17 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship the person against violent assault and death—the security that came from the friendship of brothers, for example. The leader's need for the security of friendship was even greater. Xenophon's Hiero makes a central issue of the physical insecurity that comes when the ruler has followers who are his enemies; he was worse off than the non‐ruler in this particular respect simply because he was more exposed to threat on a larger scale from more people. The threat that lack of friendship poses to his life is in the front of Hiero's mind throughout his indictment of his governance. He describes the ruler as a man alone and at war with his population and even his kin: ‘tyrants travel everywhere as if through enemy country’ (2.8); they are in the greatest danger even in their own polis and in their very house (2.10), where there is the risk of assassination at the hands of family (3.6–9), as well as poisoning through servants (4.2). They have a bodyguard, but this goes to the highest bidder and will kill him for a higher bid (6.10–11). His condition is summed up in the laws that allow tyrant‐slayers to escape penalty and meet with the highest honour (4.5). ‘To fear the crowd, to fear isolation, to fear not being guarded, to fear those who do stand on guard, to be unwilling to see armed men around and to see armed men without pleasure, how is this not a hard condition?’ (6.4). This insecurity is the result of his lack of friendship, but paradoxically drives him to eliminate the brave, the wise, and the just because they most of all threaten his life because of their virtues (5.2), but that would leave him ruling over cowards and crooks and criminals; and in that there is no glory; and if he pushes it too far, he will rule over an empty polis (Hiero 6.14–16: ‘how could you say that a ruler can dominate his enemies when they know well that all those they rule are their enemies, and it is not possible to kill them or imprison them all—for whom will he then rule?). This concern for his life will be remedied only in the final vision of reform, where he will have his followers as friends instead of enemies giving him the security that friends naturally provide (11.12: ‘and if some peril should threaten, you would see them then not just as allies, but as your eager champions’). Hiero is not seen in actual possession of such friends. His reform is still theoretical. But Cyrus the Great confirms security as the major service of followers to their leaders in practice when he spells out the security as well as the real fame as a ruler that comes from friendship (p.317) when he is enthroned as king (8.2.22): ‘I serve the gods and always reach for more. When I get it, if I see I have too much for my own needs, I cure the needs of my friends with it, and in enriching and benefiting men I get their good‐will and their friendship’ (τάϛ τε ἐνδείαϛ τω̑ν ϕίλων ἐξακου̑μαι καὶ πλουτίζων καὶ εὐεργετω̑ν ἀνθρώπουϛ εὔνοιαν ἐξ αὐτω̑ν κτω̑μαι καὶ ϕιλίαν) and from this I reap a harvest of security and good repute (ἀσϕάλειαν και̑ εὔκλειαν). There were various kinds of threats from which followers could protect the leader, such as death in battle (Cyropaedia 7.1.37–8). But Xenophon describes assassination as the greater threat (8.1.45–8). Cyrus protected himself against his more remote subjects by keeping them at a distance, but like Hiero, he felt Page 18 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship the real threat came from the men of talent and eminence, to whom he had decided to give commands and resources in his empire; he goes out of his way to secure their friendship to achieve his security (8.1.45–8). He instinctively rejects Hiero's oppressive methods. He does not wish to eliminate them or even disarm them because that would be to make them ‘unwarlike’, which would spell the end of the empire (which needed warriors to defend it) and would also be a misuse of their virtue. On the other hand to keep them at their distance would sow distrust and make them hostile. For his own security then, the ‘most noble’ method was to secure their friendship and to make them better friends to himself than to each other so that they would never conspire against him. The preface to Cyropaedia shows that the threat they posed to him is not special hostility to Cyrus or his methods, but just the dreary tendency of people in general to overthrow governments of whatever form. In fact this connection between the preface and this passage indicates that the winning of the friendship of the men of talent was a major way in which Cyrus secured the continuance of his empire. The objection might be made that this pursuit of the friendship of those who might otherwise threaten the leader's security is too calculated. Against this Xenophon stresses the natural instinct that moved Cyrus to befriend this group when he begins his description of the methods he used with how he showed them ‘the love of men that was in his soul’ (8.2.1). The stronger argument against the view that he is too calculating is in comparisons from the Socratic works, which establish that his pursuit of friends was no more calculated (p. 318) than in private friendships, where indeed there was a Socratic expectation of a calculated pursuit that amounted to a hunt.25 The evidence for this is found in the conversation in which Xenophon's Socrates' taught Critobulus the art of pursuing friends, comparing it to the hunt as well as to the art practised by the Sirens on Odysseus (Mem. 2.6 8–12, 28–30). Socrates made it clear that friendship was a hunt for good men when he began by helping Critobulus to classify the men of talent as the kinds of men he should pursue as friends (Mem. 2.6.1: ‘He seemed to me to speak good sense in respect of sorting out the kinds of friends who were worth acquiring…’). The special attention that Hiero and Cyrus paid to the men of talent therefore does no more than reflect the advice that Socrates gives, in another parallel between the relations of leaders and followers and more private friendships. We can see further parallels between the Socratic motives for friendship and those of Cyrus when it becomes clear that concern for security drives Critobulus' hunt for friends no less than it drives Cyrus'. Socrates in fact describes Critobulus as a citizen at war with others, which was the image Hiero used of the ruler, and he is specifically at war with the men of talent in the polis: ‘if a person is at war with someone, he will need allies, and more of these if he is arraying himself against the kaloikagathoi’ (27). This is a revealing insight into the volatility of ancient politics, which Socrates confirms in Oeconomicus, when he tells this same Critobulus that he must offer Page 19 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship expensive dinners to the citizens as well and benefit them or be bereft of ‘allies’ (2.5). We come back to the potential of the kaloikagathoi for conflict as well as friendship. (p.319) The other similarity between the friends hunted by Critobulus and those hunted by Cyrus is indeed their potential for divisive conflict with one another (Mem. 2.6.17–26). Xenophon's Socrates fully acknowledges their division and conflict: ‘Believing the same things to be noble and pleasurable they battle over these (μάχονται) and they oppose each other in different minds; their strife and anger is like war (πολεμικόν)’, even though he still believes that friendlinesss will prevail (Mem. 2.6.22–6: ‘they choose moderation without toil to total domination of others through warfare, and they have the power, though hungry and thirsty, to share their food and drink without grief, and though they take pleasure in the fair, to endure, so not as to harm what they should not harm. And they have the power to avoid getting the advantage in wealth, lawfully to share it, and even to assist one another with it…Envy they entirely remove, giving their friends their good possessions as their own. How is it not likely that these kaloikagathoi will share in political honours too, not only harmlessly but as helpful comrades to one another…’). Cyrus also acknowledges the instinct for friendliness in the kaloikagathoi when he forges friendships, for instance between Pheraulas and the Sacian, but he builds his security on the innate divisive and competitive tendencies when he deliberately fosters discord among those he befriended so that they would seek his friendship rather than each other's. The view that this is a dark manoeuvre does not take full account of Xenophon's realism about human nature, but also needs to note that Cyrus channels the naturally existing hostility of the kaloikagathoi in the direction of virtue, which it is the responsibility of the ruler to cultivate: Cyrus encourages these rivalries in pursuit of virtue (8.2.26; 7.8.1).26 Xenophon says outright: ‘This brought praise to Cyrus because he showed his concern for the promotion of virtue’ (8.2.26). Socrates might also have approved. Xenophon here recalls the situation described in his conversation with Critobulus when he says of the conflict that Cyrus set in motion that these men rivalled each other ‘in the same way as do other people in polis communities’ (8.2.28). The creation and channelling (p.320) of rivalrous competition in the direction of virtue can be found in Xenophon's other paradigms too. Cyrus channels the competitive spirit he has developed in his men into united warfare against the enemy (Cyr. 3.3.10).27 Xenophon's Lycurgus fostered the same ‘discord’ and ‘envy’ among the ephebes in order to secure military ‘virtue’ (RL 4) when he fostered competition for selection as one of the three hundred ephebes for special service to the polis, in which those not selected for this special service ‘watched for’ lapses in the behaviour of those who were selected, presumably to report them to the authorities. Lycurgus' encouragement of discord is not very far from what Cyrus endorses in Cyropaedia. Xenophon endorses this Spartan strife as one ‘most loved by gods’ Page 20 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship and ‘political in the highest degree’ because in spite of their divisions, in a crisis the ephebes combined forces and competed in assisting the polis ‘to the best of their ability’. We can dislike such competition, but we cannot say that Xenophon represents Cyrus as a poor leader when he also fosters it. Cyrus could be made to seem unacceptably divisive again as well as manipulative when he makes some members of his court seize the possessions of others who do not attend court according to their agreement, in order to oblige the recalcitrants to come to court to dispute them (8.1.16–20), but Xenophon notes elsewhere that members of his court usually showed a great deal of respect for each other (8.1.33), so that this type of discord seems to be exceptional. There are respectable horizons of expectation for the manipulation too: Socrates used similarly methods to limit the consumption of food among his associates (Mem. 3.14.1); he put the smaller portions that his companions brought to dinners into the common pool, thereby shaming those who brought larger portions into doing the same, and thus he taught those who brought too much to dinner that it was unprofitable. Cyrus did not rely just on manipulation to secure attendance of course; he used other more pleasant methods such as issuing them with functions that were ‘more pleasant and profitable’ for them to carry out, which made them attend with pleasure.

(p.321) The Incentive to Rule Xenophon emphasizes the hardships of rule, not least through Cyrus when he describes the burdens of kingship to his elder son (Cyr. 8.7.12: ‘to long for things hard to achieve, to have many cares, and to have no peace being pricked by competition with my own deeds, to plot and be plotted against. Which provides many distractions from pleasure’). These hardships and the threats to the great ruler's life make leadership such a challenging option that the question might reasonably be asked: why take it on? The simplest answer to this is found everywhere in Xenophon's idea that ruling others successfully is the greatest thing a man can achieve (Cyr. 1.6.7, Mem. 3.3.1–2, 3.6.2 and passim). No man of worth would not want to take up that challenge. Another reason is duty. Cambyses says that Cyrus had been elected by the Persians to lead their forces, so that in the beginning there was service to the polis (8.5.23). He was carrying out the identifying function of the citizen as Socrates determines it: to use his talents to ‘increase the polis’ and thereby ‘assist’ other citizens and friends (Mem. 3.7. 2–3, 9). Another reason to rule is Cyrus' superlative love of men (Cyr. 1.2.1: ϕιλανθρωπότατοϛ;28 see also 8.2.1), which drove him to want to serve and secure the eudaimonia of as many people as he could. This is the quality that moved even the gods to serve men as Cyrus did by creating the world and the environment in which men flourish (Mem. 4.3. 5–7). This brings us to a review of the more selfish advantages that may motivate the leader to seek his position.

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The Dynamics of Friendship Pleonexia? The darker readings say that leaders deceive their followers into thinking they are friends, but the question that goes begging is: to what end? Hiero does present sensual pleasure, wealth, and honour as (p.322) the possible advantages to the ruler, but these prove to be dependent on the friendship of his citizens. The answer must be to gain something that followers would not willingly give him. Yet there are very few advantages that the leader does not share with his followers and he regularly gets the advantage not in pleasure or power but in hardship, as at Cyropaedia 1.6.25. Cyrus as an example takes no more sensual pleasure than his followers because they all practice a virtue that demands self‐restraint. He has a sophisticated cuisine by the time he is king, but he shares his food and drink with his friends (Cyr. 8.2.2–6). He has all women at his disposal, but he is above the allure of Panthea, he has no boyfriends, and just the one royal wife. Even in the heyday of empire he leads his followers out to the valorized toil of the hunt and competes in horse races. He wears fancy dress, but so do his followers. He gives as much honour as he gets at all stages of his life. In his early days he makes an issue of honouring followers according to their worth; they choose Cyrus to judge them because as Pheraulas says at 2.3.12: ‘I am most of all heartened toward this competition because Cyrus is the judge, who judges not from prejudice, but by the oath upon the gods I swear, he seems to me to love those whom he sees to be good in war more than he loves himself’. The view is then confirmed by the entire army (2.3.16). He continues to honour his followers in his later days in the distribution of gifts and commands and seats of honour and other distinctions, and created ‘love of honour’ in competitions designed to make them ‘most excellent’ (8.1.39). At 8.5.23 Cambyses says that Cyrus has given the Persians such honour that he has made them ‘glorious among all mankind and honoured throughout Asia’. This was a return for their ‘increasing’ Cyrus by electing him to the command from which he launched himself on the world. Wealth has a particular potential for putting the leader above his followers, but he shows everywhere that he values friends above material goods according to Socrates' view. This is demonstrated in the celebrated episode in which Cyrus reveals the wisdom of making his friends his ‘treasure chests’ (Cyr. 8.2.15–19; Hiero at Hiero at 11.12–13 and Pheraulas at Cyr. 8.3.35–50 also made their friends into treasure chests). Xenophon enriches this episode by having Cyrus teach this lesson about the true nature of wealth to the Herodotean Croesus who took pride in his more inanimate treasure chests. It occurs within the (p.323) long demonstration of Cyrus' generosity to friends, peppered with remarks such as: ‘it is no wonder that he gave the greatest gifts, but a greater wonder that he outdid his friends in care and attention’; ‘he is said to have been ashamed most of all when defeated by his friends in the care he showed them’ (8.2.13). Xenophon then quotes Cyrus' view that that he looked to the eudaimonia of his friends and followers as the good shepherd looks to the eudaimonia of his sheep Page 22 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship (8.2.14), and proves his generosity in the story of the treasure chests. Croesus advised him not to give away his wealth to his friends but to store it away in treasure chests in his house (8.2.15), but Cyrus sent a message to his friends calling on them to give him as much as they could for a purpose he had in mind. The amount they sent in was phenomenal. ‘You see how I do have treasure chests?’ He then explained to Croesus that these men were living treasure chests who looked after him, that he could not eradicate his desire for wealth any more than other men (8.2.20), but that whereas other men stored it up in their houses and incur envy and hatred to no avail, since perishables rot, and they can only eat so much and only wear so much, he gives away his wealth to ‘remedy the wants of his friends’ and thereby secure fame and security, which are possessions, he says, which, unlike those hoarded in treasure chests, do not perish (8.2.22). He goes on to define the happy man as the one who ‘justly acquires the most and rightly uses the most’; and Xenophon confirms: ‘he was to be seen doing what he said’. Cambyses confirms at the end of Cyrus' conquest and empire is that he has ‘enriched the best’ and provided maintenance for the rest (8.5.23–4). Partial readings have tried to blunt the message of the treasure chests and prove that Cyrus wants the larger share of wealth.29 One offers Cyrus' speech at 4.2.42–5 as proof, but this proves to be a proof to the contrary. Here Cyrus encourages the Persians to ‘seem to be’ just in the division of wealth, which consists of the very considerable booty that they have acquired, by letting their allies make the division instead of making it themselves even though it belongs to them all in common. ‘Seeming to be’ is taken as ‘not’, and Cyrus is alleged to be (p.324) encouraging the allies to steal booty that might rightfully belong to the Persians. We are then encouraged to ‘begin to guess’ how far the allies' hopes that have been raised by such conduct will be met in the end—as if their hopes were not met. This fails to take in some essential narrative. Xenophon does in fact tell us how these hopes are met in the end: Cyrus told the allies to make the division themselves, the allies did make the division and it was a very just one indeed, which recognized the Persian contribution as well as their own (4.5.38 ff., especially 51–5, and 4.6.11). This proves the faith he had in their justice. Cyrus is also alleged in his speech to be controlling his greed for wealth in his early career only to achieve long‐term gain, and that ‘Once he has attained imperial power, Cyrus can treat everything valuable as his own…Moreover after he has reached this point, he confesses in a private conversation that he craves wealth and always desires more’ (8.2.20–2). This craving refers to the remark he makes to Croesus in the episode of the treasure chests above (p. 16). In this episode Cyrus does indeed confess that he is desirous of wealth as any man, but this is preparatory to showing that his desire for wealth is satisfied through friendship. When we reread the original speech abut the division of the booty in this light we find that Cyrus' decision to let the allies make the division endorses the same view, which is that his Persians should make the allies into their own Page 23 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship treasure chests, on the grounds that the friendship they will win by trusting them to make a fair division, or indeed in letting them take the larger share of the booty, is a much greater source of wealth than any amount they could secure by dividing the spoils themselves and taking the larger part. Cyrus tells the Persians at 4.2.44: if the allies give us a lesser share, think that a profit, because on account of the profit they will be more agreeable to remain with us; to get the advantage now would be a short‐lived source of wealth to us; let this wealth go and gain those things from which wealth arises, and which as I think would give all of us a permanent prosperity. He is here encouraging his men to treat their allies as their treasure chests quite as much as he treated his own friends as treasure chests; and he is proven right when the allies do not give them a lesser share but are generous. As if to counter any lingering impressions of his advantage in wealth, when Cyrus divides the spoils of his final battles (8.4. 29– 30), Xenophon has some (p.325) members of the army raise the objection that if he is giving them so much wealth, he must be getting a lot of wealth for himself too (8.4.31), but others do not think this possible (8.4.31), and Cyrus in any case answers it by giving them a public accounting of his wealth (Cyr. 8.4.32–5).30

The Stifling of Initiative There is another idea abroad, quite contrary to the idea that the ruler deceives his followers to get the advantage over them, which is that Xenophon's leaders stifle initiative through benefits to followers that are excessive, and this is extended to his allegedly ‘feminizing’ treatment of Croesus and Cyaxares. Xenophon's descriptions of leaders as ‘fathers’ are taken in particular to imply a softening ‘paternalism’ toward all.31 Xenophon does indeed define a father as one who benefits his ‘children’ (Cyrop. 8.2.9): ‘Who else but Cyrus having conquered an empire was called to the end of his life “father” by those he ruled? This is the word clearly used for a benefactor rather than one who deprived them of benefits’: του̑το δὲ τοὔνομα δη̑λον ὅτι εὐεργετου̑ντοϛ ἐστι μα̑λλον ἢ ἀϕαιρουμένου. Chrysantas also says of Cyrus: ‘I have often on other occasions too detected that a good commander is no different from a good father. Fathers take thought for their children so that benefits never fail them, and Cyrus seems to me now to give us counsel from which we would continue ever in eudaimonia’ (8.1.1). It is also true that a father could spoil his children by meeting their every request and make them slavishly dependent, but this does apply to most of the followers of Cyrus. The eudaimonia that Chrysantas mentions is shown to be one that the Persians will have to work hard to acquire, since it follows the speech in which Cyrus has advised them that they and their children should be educated in the virtues required to rule other nations (p. 326) (7.5.72–86). This involves being better in virtue than those they rule, in hard work and toil, in self‐denying control of appetites (78). Cyrus says that the Persians must continue to practise the martial life of conquerors (79) and the practices of the kingdom of Persia in which they grew up, and so must their Page 24 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship children (85–6). This is no passive or dependent happiness. Xenophon does recognize that Cyrus enslaved the subject nations by giving them a more passive happiness and that they called him father for this, but he makes it clear that this is a slavish definition of a father (Cyr. 8.1.43),32 ‘because he looked after them so that they should continue always without a doubt in servitude’ (Cyr. 8.1.44). The Persians in contrast called him father for their more active happiness as rulers. On the surface, where no questions are asked, the greatest ancient compliment was for a ruler to be called a father by his followers. Xenophon reminds the men he has commanded in the Anabasis how they used to call him ‘father’ when he helped them in their difficulties on the march back from Babylon and how they promised to ‘remember him as their benefactor’ even though they did not (7.6.38). He is unlikely to be suggesting that he made them passively dependent on him. Herodotus said that his Persians called Cyrus father because ‘he contrived all benefits for them too’ and yet they remained a warrior nation (3.89). In Memorabilia, Socrates presents fathers as those who ‘benefit’ their children by choosing wives who are likely to produce the best kind of children and then securing for the future of those children ‘all that he thinks will benefit them in their lives’ (2.2.3–5). It would make no sense for a father to bring up his son to be a permanent dependant, particularly because he would one day inherit and manage the state and be his father's keeper, and there is the clear expectation that the son would actively return the benefits he received from his father in Xenophon's defence of Socrates against the charge that he taught his young men to dishonour their parents because they were ignorant of how to ‘assist’ them (1.2.51ff.). He does agree in this passage that Socrates taught them to dishonour what is useless; but the surprise is that he was teaching his young men that they as sons should ‘take care’ to be ‘as wise and (p.327) as useful’ as possible (ϕρονιμωτάτου καὶ ὠϕελιμωτάτου) to their parents and their friends if they wished to be honoured by them, and not rely on the bond of blood or other proximity. Xenophon puts the same onus on people to be useful when he exhorts them to examine their own worth to their friends (Mem. 2.5). The turnabout is typical of the Socratic exhortation to examine oneself. Xenophon calls other paradigmatic rulers ‘father’ and they have this same function of bestowing benefits that produce followers who are active in the pursuit of their happiness. Xenophon calls Agesilaus father even in relation to his opponents and spells out the benefits (Ag. 7.3): chastising their faults, but honouring their achievements, supporting them in misfortune, thinking none an enemy, but wishing to praise all, wanting to preserve all rather than see them destroyed. The Greeks in Asia love him as a father in the Asiatic Greek poleis because of the eudaimonia he gave them (Ag. 1.37–8), and they did not stay happily at home; but when he left for Greece: ‘The Greeks in Asia grieved at his absence not only as a commander but as a father and as a comrade, and showed that they gave him a friendship that was not insincere, for they willingly came to

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The Dynamics of Friendship the aid of Lacedaemon for him, even though they knew that it would mean fighting men no less valiant than themselves’. Xenophon does recognize that one who benefits another may seem to patronize him by taking the lead, and he shows this in the conversation in which the younger brother says that it is not right that he ‘take the lead’ (καθηγει̑σθαι) in improving his elder brother, on the grounds that it is customary in all matters that the elder should ‘lead’ in word and action (Mem. 2.3.15). But Socrates tells him that his ‘leadership’ does preserve the elder's status, since the younger brother's kindnesses (deferring to him, giving way to him in the street, giving him his seat, giving way to him in speech) are the marks of an inferior, which, far from patronizing the elder, mark the younger as the servant in the relationship (Mem. 2.3.15–16). Xenophon likes moral paradoxes (‘willing obedience’; ‘defeating friends in doing service’), and his ‘servant leader’ is another. And of course the elder brother is expected, once he has been restored to his senses, not to remain the passive recipient of benefits, but to work energetically in the partnership (2.2.17–19: ‘I think that when he perceives that he is (p.328) being challenged to this competition, he will be very keen to win the victory over you by giving you benefit in word and in deed’).

Conclusion Xenophon agrees with Socrates that a friend is the most valuable possession and he presents the dynamics of friendships as a partnership for mutual eudaimonia. He finds these dynamics within families and other kinds of friendships, where the assessment of the credits and debits on the balance sheet between partners to the relationship takes into account the valuation of the gift from the point of view of the recipient as well as the principle of giving ‘according to ability’. The leader also finds friends to be his greatest possession, and the aims and dynamics of his relations with followers reflect those of private friendship. He achieves their success and they give him his ability to secure that success as ruler by following him and preserving his security. There are different intensities in his relationships, as there are between families and friends, but the dynamics of mutual usefulness determine those intensities beyond the demands of blood or shared nurture, so that even sons cannot rely on blood to secure honour from a father or a brother, but must prove their ‘use’ to them (Mem. 1.2.55). In private friendships therefore Socrates goes hunting for the kaloikagathoi among the rest, but he can also see the usefulness of men who are poor in material wealth to those who have need of them. By the same principle Xenophon has Cyrus therefore gather those who are most useful as future rulers of his empire (Cyr. 7.5.71): ‘So that he should not appear to dictate to them [the practice of virtue], but they should come to their own view that this was best and should be steadfast in their practice, he gathered the homotimoi and all those who were suitable and who seemed to him to be worthy of use as partners in hard work and good things’. These friendships may be more more intimate, but their reciprocal dynamics are applicable even in the relations of the subject nations to Page 26 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship Cyrus: ‘Men were so disposed to Cyrus that a nation thought it had done more poorly than another if it did not send to Cyrus whatever fine plant or animal or crafted object they (p.329) had in their land, every polis likewise, and every man thought he would become rich if he pleased Cyrus in some way; for Cyrus took from each of them what they had in abundance and gave them in return what they seemed to lack’ (8.6.23). Cyrus does here no more or less than he does with his friends when he ‘remedied their needs’ and won their readiness to supply him with what he wanted in the same way (8.2.22). In a similar way Cyrus the Younger when he received large numbers of gifts distributed them back to his personal friends according to their needs (An. 1.9.22); and private friends remedied the needs of their more private partners (Mem. 2.4.5–6). The prioritizing of the friendship of men of talent does not rule out the friendship of whole communities or nations. Simonides says that ‘all mankind’ will sing the praises of a man who makes his polis the happiest (11.8–9). Agesilaus makes friends of all his citizens and is loved throughout Greek Asia for the benefits he bestows (1.22, 6.4). ‘There was no man beloved by more people’ is the description of Cyrus the Younger (1.9). Xenophon is bold in the breadth of his application of his definition of friendship as a relationship of mutual use for shared eudaimonia, but his presentation of that breadth seems unqualified.33 Notes:

(1) Azoulay (2004a) uses sociological and anthropological theory (27–37) to read most of Xenophon's works in this way, as shown in his extensive index locorum. The exploitation of one party by the other is regularly concealed in his reading not in terms of Strauss's motivation (he could find no philosophic need for Xenophon to conceal his opinions: pp. 17–19), but in terms of his apologetic purposes (24) and as a reflection of the ‘perpetual oscillations’ in Xenophon's life experience (15). (2) Tatum (1989), 64, 66. (3) See Konstan (1997), 53–92, and (2006). He is inclined (1997), 13–14 to emphasize ‘the domain of human sympathy uncontaminated by the desire for personal advantage’, against the 'sordid and calculating mode' of helping friends and harming enemies in the classical city. But even he suggests the impossibility of equal friendship between kings and those they ruled, admittedly in the context of the Hellenistic world, which seems to deny Xenophon's equation: (1997), 93–18, esp. 105–8. Stevens (1994) is not about friendship as this chapter addresses it, but is a Straussian reading of Oeconomicus. See also Due (1989), 221–5 on friendship in Cyropaedia and Schofield (1999), 82–99. Herman (1987), 57, 97 refers to ritual guest friendship in Cyropaedia and the friendships of the two Cyruses in Anabasis. See also Herman (2006). (4) In the Persian justice system under which Cyrus was educated, Persian law innovatively makes ingratitude an actual crime Cyropaedia 1.2.7. Page 27 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship (5) Azoulay (2004a), 59 and elsewhere emphasized the inevitable victory of one party in this competition, but in private relations the mutuality of friendship makes it a constant struggle with victory going now to one and now to the other side. (6) We have seen Xenophon praise loyalty to friends in misfortune in the overt evaluation of Hellenica 7.2.1. (7) Even before this instruction, Xenophon shows how the young Cyrus the Great was already instinctively benefiting others. He wins the love of the Median and the Persian boys as well as his grandfather (e.g. 4.1–2, the key word ἀνεκτήσατο); after an initially immature phase, he even wins the complete love of the Sacian attendant (ὑπερεϕίλει) ‘as well as all the rest’ (1.4.6). All the Medes love him so much that they are in tears when he leaves them (1.4.25; see the kiss story at 1.4.27–8). This love remains with him through his conquests, as we have seen when they abandoned Cyaxares to willingly follow Cyrus. Later, Xenophon spends a chapter showing the methods used by Cyrus in winning the friendship of men of talent in establishing his empire: 8.1.45–8.2. (8) Konstan (2006), 170–1 noted that the affective side of Greek friendship remained controversial in spite of his earlier work. (9) Azoulay (2004a), 305ff. mentions this mutual use but argues that ‘all these groups share a common feature’; they are all his debtors and have with him a ‘profoundly dissymetrical relationship’ (p. 310). (10) This is the case also in Oeconomicus, where Socrates is arguing that the only way of securing ‘use’ from a possession is to know how to use it correctly (Oec. 1.8–15, esp. 14–15; cf. Mem. 2.3.19). (11) Azoulay (2004a), 329–34. (12) See pp. 11–12 on this general purpose of leadership. (13) Aristotle at Nicomachean Ethics 8.7.1–2 (1158b11–28) presents friendships between rulers and ruled, father and son, wife and husband as unequal in the ability to benefit, but thinks equality can be achieved by a return of affection ‘according to worth’ (8.8.5, 1159a33–5): it is by rendering affection in proportion to worth that friends who are not equals may approach most nearly to true friendship since this will make them equal. Konstan (1997), 67ff. elucidates Aristotle's complicated differentiations of the different bonds and the different forms of friendship. (14) Konstan (1997), 94.

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The Dynamics of Friendship (15) Aristotle, NE 8.14.4 (1163b12–28 at 15–18) notes that the gods can never be repaid for their services ‘in accordance with their worth’, but a man who repaid them ‘according to his power’ εἰϛ δύναμιν is virtuous. (16) Azoulay (2004a), 139 sees that this passage means that goods exchanged have relative value, but does not mention Socrates' application of the principle to friends. (17) Azoulay (2004a), 291–7, 329–70. (18) Azoulay does not mention this introduction. (19) Mem. 2.5.1, where he attacks those who neglect friends who are poor. (20) Azoulay (2004a), 171–230 studies the debasing effects of misthos (the system of exchange based on payment) on charis (the system based on gratitude) and he applies that to the conversation with Eutherus. Azoulay is especially interesting on Xenophon's self‐representation as a mercenary receiving misthos. (21) Aristotle, NE 8.13.10, 1163a1–23 discusses the key question of the value of the service rendered in friendship and finds the measure to be its worth to the recipient: complaints about worth may arise in friendships of utility, but in friendships based on virtue the measure of the benefit is the intention of the giver (proairesis). (22) Azoulay (2004a), 78–81. I refer the reader to arguments against the view that Xenophon portrays Agesilaus reducing everyone to dependence on his benefits in his encomium at p. 298 and in acquitting Sphodrias at pp. 224–32, and also when he calls him ‘father’ at pp. 325–8. (23) Johnstone (1994). Herman (2006), 30–8 investigates how reciprocity operates in the democracy, benefiting those directly involved in the exchange, but taking into account the interests of the community. (24) Azoulay (2004a), 221–9 also champions the view that Xenophon wrote Poroi to recommend that the leaders of Athens feed the demos not in order to achieve a just use of the allies by remedying their poverty by developing their own resources, which is the message of the preface, but for concealed reasons, in order to reduce them to servitude to their bellies by feeding them too well and making them depoliticized thereby. There are horizons that could support that view in Xenophon's other works. In Oec. 13.9, Ischomachus has slaves made obedient through such feeding, as Cyrus does at Cyr. 8.1.44. Yet in those cases Xenophon makes the enslavement plain to readers, which is not the case in Poroi. Xenophon's comment at Poroi 4.51 that his measures will make the polis wealthier, more obedient, more disciplined, and more warlike is said to make the demos ‘l'animal‐sujet, utile et docile’ (224), but when Xenophon goes on to exemplify this from the ephebes, the feeding does not make them slavish Page 29 of 31

 

The Dynamics of Friendship because their maintenance is balanced by their toil (227–9). Yet it is the polis as a whole that is described in the three adjectives, not the demos, and ‘docile’ defies ‘warlike’ as well as ‘more obedient and more disciplined’. This obedience is not slavish: Socrates himself as a member of the polis was obedient to his commanders and the laws and kept orderly in the ranks: Memorabilia 4.4.1. The improvement of the military achievement of the polis as a whole, among whom the ephebes are picked out for exemplification rather than for exception, is according simply to Xenophon's usual principle that proper provisioning will make followers loyal and obedience to commands. The conclusion to Poroi does divide the demos off from the rich (6.1): ‘the demos will have maintenance in abundance’, while the wealthy will be relieved of the expenses of war (225–6). But this is the same division as in Cyropaedia 8.5.23, when Cyrus has ‘enriched the best and has provided feeding and maintenance for the masses’, where the masses are active and committed since they are currently serving Cyrus under arms—as is probably also the case envisaged in Poroi. Azoulay is of course aware that misthos given to military forces can produce good obedience; he cites the example of Dercylidas: Hellenica 3.1.28: pp. 208–9. (25) Azoulay (2004a), 58–9, 291 has a dark view of Xenophon's frequent references to ‘hunting’ friends on the grounds that hunting ends in the death of the prey. The contexts indicate something more playful and mutual. When Socrates encourages Critobulus to hunt the kaloikagathoi as friends he says that he can help him because (Mem. 2.6.28–30) his reason is his positive desire ‘to love and be loved, to long for and be longed for, to desire their company and to have his own company desired…through taking care to please the one who pleases me, I have considerable experience in hunting men’. The metaphor conveys love of the prey. Socrates offers himself as the hunting dog who will drive Theodote's friends into the net of her body, but these ‘victims’ will be treated with the kindness and courtesy that he then describes (Mem. 3.11.7–9). (26) Azoulay (2004a), 274–6 deals with it as an instance of envy. (27) Carlier (1978/2009), 355–6 contrasts 3.3.10 with 8.2.26, but they both channel the rivalry into virtuous activity. (28) Due (1989), 163–70 on philanthropy; Azoulay (2004a), 318–26, 322 sees philanthropy as the worst kind of enslavement. (29) Ambler (2001), 1–10 begins with the view that the first two‐thirds of the work offer positive images, but then comes the epilogue and the rereading of the work in its long shadow. (30) Azoulay (2004a), 261 says this display is restricted to the elite, but his division of the spoils goes down as far as the ordinary soldier. The Hyrcanian

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The Dynamics of Friendship king also notes that Cyrus is happier benefiting others than enriching himself: Cyr. 5.1.28. (31) Azoulay (2004a), 327–67 on paternalism. (32) See p. 283 for the justification of this in Socratic principle. (33) Konstan (1997) demonstrates that the noun ‘friend’ is used for a restricted group, and Cyrus uses the noun in this restricted way, for instance in addressing ‘friends and allies’ (7.5.72), but Xenophon shows that this does not mean that the other groups named are not counted as friends at 8.7.5–6, where he distinguishes ‘friends and officers of the Persians’ but then has Cyrus refer to them all in the same way as ‘friends’; being called something other than ‘friends’ does not mean that the officers are not counted as friends, but that there is a positive reason to call them by their distinctive status when they are being summoned to hear his final will and testament in this capacity, just as the allies in the other example were addressed as allies in order to call attention to their separate status in the sum total of Cyrus' followers. The use of the noun seems driven by narrative convenience. It is the same when Cyrus directs the clod of earth at his ‘friends’ but it hits Pheraulas; the term is not conceptually significant (8.3.28) since it seems to exclude Pheraulas, but that would contradict his position in the narrative as part of Cyrus' inner circle if it did so.

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.003.0008

Abstract and Keywords Chapter 7 offers studies in Xenophon's Socratic ironies that the modern ironical readings leave untouched, as well as ironies from Anabasis and Cyropaedia and Hellenica. It is argued that the bulk of the ironies presented in these works are very different from the darker ironies. Xenophon anticipates Aristotle in producing a theory of humour that places irony in the spectrum of truth and lies as well as treating it as the most correct and improving form of play for educated people in Symposium. In Oeconomicus he uses irony for very complex pedagogical purposes. Keywords:   Xenophon's Socratic ironies, just ice and obedience, forms of humour, appropriate behaviour, subversive ironies, kaloikagathoi

This chapter discusses the aims and processes of Xenophon's Socratic ironies and of some of his narrative ironies, such as his scenes of recognition. His Socratic ironies have been cited as the inspiration for the darker ironies, but few examples have in fact yielded to that kind of interpretation, and they emerge as very different from the darker ironies in their lighter spirit and their clearer signalling and their motivation.1 That difference will be sharpened by examining darker readings of Socrates' surface equation of justice with obedience to the law in Memorabilia 4.4. The kaloikagathoi can be clearly identified as the immediate ‘ironic community’ for the Socratic ironies within the Socratic works, and that allows us to identify their expectations of irony as Xenophon presents them. There is evidence to suggest that they would not have given a warm reception to those darker ironies that Xenophon is alleged to use; and as a kaloskagathos he would not have done well to perpetrate them. We find in this Page 1 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies chapter too that there are ironies practised by Cyrus and others in Cyropaedia that are like the Socratic ones. Xenophon does not use the terms εἴρων and εἰρωνεία for this irony, perhaps because from their first appearance those terms often have the purely negative value of not telling the truth. Aristotle would later present truthfulness as the mean between the ironist at one end, who told lies that made him less than what he was, and the boaster at the other, who told lies that made him greater than what he was (p.331) (Nicomachean Ethics 2.7.12, 1108a20–6).2 Aristotle also located the ironist on the spectrum of his definition of ‘social play’ as the mean between buffoonery and boorishness making irony the kind of humour appropriate for the ‘free’ man (Rhetoric 1419b2–9, NE 4.7, 1127b). He uses the term eironeia of irony on the spectrum of truth, but eutrapelia rather than irony on the spectrum of play. Xenophon anticipates Aristotle's spectrum of truthfulness when he recognizes the boaster as well as the ironic man and he also locates the buffoon, the ironist and the boor on the spectrum of social play. The term he uses for what we recognize as irony is ‘playing in earnest’ which indicates that what was once unfunny deceit has now taken on a playful guise; but he also uses other terms like Aristotle's eutrapelia to describe the correct play for the equivalent of Aristotle's ‘free’ man, who in his terminology is the kaloskagathos.3

Xenophon's Socrates Xenophon's Socrates is not the ironic man of Plato's early dialogues who constantly claims ignorance and leaves his interlocutors in (p.332) aporia, the man who is supposed to be the real Socrates, the Socrates of the early dialogues.4 In his conversations he usually proceeds through questioning, as if he might not know the answer, but his questions lead the interlocutor toward views that are clearly defined, and in Memorabilia they usually end in lectures giving straight instruction in ethics; there are indeed some passages such as Memorabilia 1.5, that consist of straight lectures recommending virtues for which there is no interlocutor. Socrates is more skittish in Oeconomicus, but this is not for the purpose of refutation as we shall see, and in Symposium we find outright criticism of refutation as inappropriate behaviour for a convivial gathering. Xenophon may have presented Socrates as a more positive instructor because this is how he was, or to protect him from the charge of useless teaching made by his critics at Mem. 1.4.1 who claimed that he could turn his companions towards virtue by making them desire it, but did not lead them to it.5 Memorabilia 4.6.11–14, which describes his dialectic method, does not mention the claim to ignorance, but stresses his definitions and the agreement that he gained in argument. Memorabilia 2.7.1, perhaps in a subversion of the image of the Socrates who produces aporia in his interlocutors and leaves them there, indicates that he (p.333) cured the aporiai of his friends by helping them

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies directly whether it was a matter of ignorance or a matter of resources, as we have seen in the previous chapter on friendship. On the few occasions on which he uses elenchus to produce aporia, it is done only to make a resistant interlocutor amenable to his more positive and direct instruction. The longest elenchus is found at Mem. 4.2.6 Here, Euthydemus was so proud of his learning and so scared of being shown up to be a sham that he avoided keeping company with teachers of any kind. Socrates had therefore to lure Euthydemus into his company, and he then had to subject him to his elenchus in order to subdue his pride and his fear. In this process he made him contradict himself in the classic way we know of from Plato and admit that he did not have a knowledge of even basic things, such as the definition of rich and poor, or just and unjust acts.7 Straightforward instruction follows, however, when this pride is subdued and Euthydemus realizes that he is in need of instruction: ‘Socrates gave him no trouble further, but spelled out most simply and clearly (ἁπλούστατα καὶ σαϕέστατα ἐξηγει̑το) what he thought he should know and what he thought were the best practices’ (4.2.40). This plainer instruction without the fierce elenchus is revealed in the conversations of Memorabilia 4.3.5–6, which focus on Socrates' plain speaking and show how through his practices and teachings he made his companions more pious (Mem. 4.3), more just (Mem. 4.4), more self‐controlled (Mem. 4.5), more dialectical (Mem. 4.6). Socrates also conducts elenchus on Glaucon, who thought he knew everything about leading Athens, but that is also motivated by the young man's resistance to instruction (Mem. 3.6), and his elenchus of the aspirant to military command at Mem. 3.1 seems directed more against those experts who considered that leadership consisted solely of tactics and left all the other aspects of leadership untouched than against the young man himself (Socrates' instruction here resembles Cambyses' instruction of young Cyrus that tactics are not everything: Cyr. 1.6.12–14). The knowledge that Glaucon (p.334) does not possess is the knowledge Xenophon supplied to leaders of Athens in his own Poroi. Xenophon's Socrates is indeed in general a plain revealer of his opinions. Hippias in the conversation about justice (see below) at Memorabilia 4.4.1 suggests that he is always evading direct definitions (4.4.9–11), but Xenophon frames the sequence of conversations in this part of Memorabilia with the indication that Socrates spoke plainly (Mem. 4.4.1: ‘he did not hide his opinion (οὐκ ἀπεκρύπτετο) about justice either’; 4.7.1: ‘that he revealed his opinion (ἁπλω̑ϛ ἀπεϕαίνετο) to his companions, I think is clear from what has been said’). At Memorabilia 3.8 also, when Aristippus tries to make Socrates the victim of his own elenchus, ‘Socrates answered not like those who take care to avoid having their argument contradicted, but like those determined most of all to do what is required’. In Symposium too, though it is dedicated to ironic play, Socrates has intensely serious moments of plain speaking as described below, for instance when he endorses Hermogenes' view about the friendship of the Page 3 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies gods (Symp. 4.49–50), and again when he delivers his most serious lecture on the positive effects of spiritual love and apologizes at the end for being more serious than is appropriate for the context (Symp. 8.41: ‘if I seem to you to be more serious (σπουδαιολογη̑σαι) than is fitting in drink, do not be surprised; those who are good in soul and desire virtue in their love of honour, I have always shared in love of them, along with the polis’). Callias playfully recognizes that Socrates is ‘procuring’ him for the city, but Socrates continues serious in response, advising him against being an alazon in his pursuit of virtue—because if he is he will be very soon shown up as a fraud. This is the culmination of the conversations in Symposium, and provokes Lycon's recognition of Socrates as a kaloskagathos.8

(p.335) Some Typical Examples of Socratic Ironies from Memorabilia The ironies practised by Socrates have an altogether more friendly spirit than those involved in the elenchus and are in accord with his plain speaking in that they are very plainly signalled. We have seen for instance in Symposium above how Socrates declares his love for those who pursue virtue and how Xenophon makes Callias explicitly recognize this as ‘procuring’ in the irony of erotics that we know of also from Plato. Xenophon frequently makes other characters signal the presence of irony in the course of the conversation and he signals it in his own voice as well.9 These are the clearest signals authors can provide of modern ironies too, as summarized by Booth (1974), 53–7, who started with the ‘straightforward warning in the author's own voice’ before proceeding to ‘known error proclaimed’, ‘conflicts of fact within the work’, and ‘clashes of style’. Some ironies from Memorabilia make Xenophon's signals almost painfully explicit, as in another instance of the irony of erotics from Memorabilia 4.1.2: ‘In play no less than in seriousness did he profit those who spent time with him. For many times he declared that he had a passion for someone’. But Xenophon is not content with signalling ‘play in seriousness’, but immediately explains, in order to resolve the irony and point the readers to the good in the apparently vile, that ‘it was obvious that he did not love those who had naturally beautiful bodies, but those whose souls were naturally disposed to virtue’. The playful level of the utterance is the inferior carnal form of love whereas the serious level is the superior love of their souls. The clarity of the signalling, the transparency of the message, and the revelation of something praiseworthy beneath what is apparently blameworthy are un‐Straussian. There is no need to send a secret signal to the coterie because the coterie alone seems to be the dramatic audience for the irony: Xenophon says that the remark was delivered to those who ‘associated with him and received his teaching’. It is moreover the surface meaning that gives offence, while the virtuous lust that lies beneath is so barely concealed that it is virtually advertised. The (p.336) motive for the irony is not to conceal Socrates' meaning, then, but to enrich it by inviting an audience to explore a tension between the pretence and the truth. There is ironic enrichment for instance in the idea of the strong passion that drives Socrates in his mission, Page 4 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies and the tension would make us reflect that the ‘goodness’ of passion is relative, depending on whether it relates to bodies or souls. This relativity is the core of Socrates' definition of ‘the good’ in Memorabilia 3.8.5 (again at 4.6.8–9), where he argues that a thing is good not in its own right but in relation to the function for which it is intended (‘good for what’, ‘good for nothing’). More leaden signalling of his erotic mission is seen in Socrates' conversation with Theodote the courtesan (3.11: another example where the coterie is the main audience). When she invites him to come frequently to her house after finding out how useful he is to her in clarifying her function, ‘Socrates, making a joke of his idleness’ tells her he has many demands on his time, including the girlfriends to whom he is teaching charms and potions (3.11.16). This is the complex irony in which he has no ordinary occupation but has on the other hand a most serious occupation in philosophy. A subtler ironist would not signal the joke. There is the same signalling in ring composition around the passage in which he reveals the serious virtue of self‐control in Homer's Circe episode (1.3.7): ‘He used to say, making a joke of it’ that Circe turned the men into pigs by feeding them foods of this (exotic) kind. ‘He played in this way at the same time as being serious’. Sometimes the irony is signalled by exaggeration, as in the conversation with Xenophon (1.3.9–15), when Socrates describes the dangers of kissing beautiful boys (‘this danger‐tossing action’, ‘wretched boy’, ‘by Heracles’), comparing their kiss to a spider's bite, and suggesting in mock panic that Xenophon should run a mile and that Critobulus should spend a year overseas to recover. The exaggeration is unmissable and Xenophon delivers the serious message plainly at the end in an authorial comment on Socrates' view: that those who cannot control their lust are in danger (1.3.14). In breaking down the pride of the military aspirant and Glaucon through the elenchus too, the signs are very clear: 3.1.4 the author's signal: ‘he made a joke of it’; 3.6.12, a signal from the character Glaucon within the conversation ‘I am being made a joke of’.

(p.337) Ironic Play as the Behaviour for the Kaloskagathos at Two Symposia 1. The Socratic Symposium

Playing in seriousness takes its place in the spectrum of humour as well as truthfulness in Xenophon's accounts of symposia, which are the traditional arena for Greek play. In the drinking party that is entitled Symposium, it is recognized that he is presenting ‘playing in earnest’ as part of an ethical and literary theory, with irony as the middle ground between the extremes of comedy and clownishness at one extreme and abuse and humourlessness at the other.10 A theory of humour is no surprise in the man who has already proven himself a theorist of allegory.11 The range of qualities from buffoonery to boorishness is Page 5 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies represented by the various characters that take part in the drinking party described in Cyropaedia 2.2, as well as in Symposium. Xenophon's theory here anticipates the spectrum of social play that Aristotle presents at Rh. 1419b2–9.12 Symposium opens with a preface that sends clear signals about its topic: ‘It seems to me that in the actions of kaloikagathoi, their play is as worthy of narration as their serious pursuits’. The combination of playfulness with seriousness is their characteristic.13 They pursue serious matters even in their play, as we might expect from men who were by definition destined to be leaders of the polis and their own households. (p.338) The action unfolds as follows: Callias gathers a company including Socrates and his friends for a symposium in honour of a young champion in the games, his beloved Autolycus, who comes with his father Lycon. Xenophon is already blending the serious and the playful in the opening scenes. After some preliminary ironic banter, in which Socrates says Callias is ‘joking’ in his desire to invite wise men to his party and pretends to admire the wisdom he has acquired for payment from Gorgias and Prodicus and many others, and Callias promises, perhaps seriously, to give a display of his wisdom and his worth if they attend the party, the company comes together (1.9–10) and provides a serious and worthy spectacle as they fall under the seriously improving spell of the god of love as they gaze at Autolycus (‘like a light in the darkness’, marrying ‘kingly beauty with reverence and modesty’) (1.11–16). Clownishness as an extreme form of play breaks into this solemn mood when Philip the clown enters, but he proves to be a damp squib under such circumstances because his play is unmarried to a serious message and pretends to an inferior morality of greed not in order to produce moral improvement, but just to get a laugh and a dinner. He makes the usual kind of clownish jokes, for instance that he has come uninvited: that he has all the right equipment for dining—at another's expense; and that his slave is weighed down—with nothing; and that he thinks it funnier to come uninvited than otherwise. When he is eventually invited to dine, his first and second jokes fall flat, and his third, so he lies on the ground and covers his head. Sniffling and crying as he does so, he explains that if laughter has gone out of the world he will get no more dinner invitations because he is incapable of seriousness, and he can't issue invitations himself because there's no dinner at his place. It is only slowly that the symposiasts warm to his frigid jokes. Philip is not the only kind of inferior play. The floor show put on by the Syracusan entrepreneur and his performing slaves (Symp. 2) involves another kind of passive entertainment without moral improvement, but Socrates begins here to turn to virtue. He responds to Callias' offer of perfume with the view that the best perfume for young men is the smell of oil in the gymnasium and for older men it is the smell of kalokagathia. Asked where this is learned, he cites the poet's ‘from good men’, and a discussion ensues about whether virtue (p. 339) can be taught. Socrates postpones this as a ‘vexed’ philosophical question, Page 6 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies but intrudes the question of virtue directly into the entertainment when he suggests that the female acrobat's feats mean that her ‘nature’ is no less educable than a boy's and that her daring must mean that courage can be taught (2.12). He uses the entertainment also to declare that he must learn to do what the acrobats do and dance, which sounds comical but turns out to be a serious expression of the need to keep fit (2.17–19). Xenophon allows no misunderstanding but signals the ironies clearly when he has the company ‘laugh’ at his desire to dance, and has Socrates play on ‘with a very solemn expression’ (2.17). The entertainment continues until Socrates says that they should entertain themselves because they are superior to the acrobats, and that it is conversation that will prove both entertaining and ‘useful’ to them. That sets off the round of conversations in which each guest is invited to declare the knowledge in which they have greatest pride. It is significant that this is the subject, because it invites boasting, which is potentially offensive, but the characters defuse the potential for offence through irony, which is the way of Aristotle's educated man and confirms them as kaloikagathoi too: most of them gently mock their own wisdom as well as the wisdom of others, like the kaloikagathoi of Memorabilia 2.6, who get along with one another in spite of tensions. The combination of the playful and the morally serious is found in non‐ ironic forms in Agesilaus at Agesilaus 8 who also ‘joined in playful stories with the greatest pleasure, but also in serving whatever serious business was required by his friends’ and ‘though not given to boasting himself, heard those who praised themselves with a light grace thinking they did no harm but gave promise of being good men’. Yet tensions and potential offence do arise in Xenophon's Symposium, and Socrates proves to be the moderator who enforces the middle way of ironic humour between clownishness and boorishness. Hermogenes for example is presented as serious to the point of boorishness. He makes his claim to knowledge through the friendship of the gods in the most serious way, and Socrates endorses this seriousness because it involves the gods—showing the piety he was said to lack in the charges of his trial (4.46–50: οὕτωϛ ἐσπουδαιολογήθη). But when Hermogenes then ‘remains silent’ even while the others play at the beauty contest that the less than (p.340) beautiful Socrates loses (5),14 Socrates gets him to speak by asking him to define paroinia. Hermogenes stolidly replies that he cannot say what it is, but can say only what it seems to him to be (no drinker he?). He then defines it as annoying one's companions over their drink, a very symposiastic theme (6.1).15 Socrates responds that this is exactly what he is doing with his silence, but Hermogenes retaliates that even if he tries to speak, he could not get a word in edgewise among all the banter, which pushes Socrates to ask for assistance from his host for a man ‘who is in the process of being refuted in a definition’ (6.3: ἐλεγχομένῳ). This eventually gets Hermogenes to break his silence and join in the joking. Page 7 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies Another example of incorrect behaviour, which is at the aggressive end of boorish, again involves the philosophic elenchus. As the guests make claims for their wisdom on inferior and playful grounds, Callias addresses the serious subject of ‘justice’ and the wisdom he has in making others ‘just’—he says he does so by giving them money, which he later says prevents them having to turn to crime. It is unclear whether Xenophon is mocking his youthful ignorance (since the definition is so one‐sided) or whether Callias is just playing on the weakness of his definition. The reaction he draws from the majority is the tolerance that the kaloikagathoi show to those who boast, whether ironically or otherwise; but Antisthenes shows a fighting spirit that is presented as too aggressive and serious for a party: ‘he stands up in a most elenchic way’ (4.2: μάλα ἐλεγτικω̑ϛ) and carries out the elenchus on Callias, bringing him to aporia, ‘giving him a look of the one who refutes’ (4.3 ἐλέγχων). This aporia is to make Callias admit in effect that though he makes everyone refrain from crime by giving them money, at the same time they commit crime because they fail to repay him in any way. Xenophon is creating a complex irony here because on the one hand justice does mean returning favour as Antisthenes says, but also refraining from taking what belongs to others, as Callias says. In Antisthenes we may find an unsuccessful reader of Callias' irony who has misunderstood his tone, if Callias is indeed meaning his boast to be ironical; Antisthenes' aggression would then be even (p.341) more unreasonable than it already is. We shall see below another case in which Antisthenes reacts aggressively because he misreads irony, in that case Socrates' own. Callias meanwhile responds to Antisthenes' attack with more argument, ending with the taunt: ‘So put up with it, sophist, in being refuted yourself’ (4.4 ἐλεγχόμενοϛ).16 Socrates then intervened, as the moderating force on any bitterness at this party, telling Antisthenes indeed to ‘put up with it’, and ending that round of argument. Later on, Callias makes a joke of Antisthenes and his elenchic aggressions when he asks what is the appropriate tune for Antisthenes when he ‘refutes someone at a party’ and Antisthenes replies that it is a ‘hissing for the one who is refuted’ (6.5). The elenchus stands revealed as the hostile weapon it was, with looks and taunts and hissings, inappropriate for a party and not in itself very humorous at all. It is no wonder that Xenophon does not allow Socrates to use it much in the Socratic works even outside parties. Hippias shows its nastier side when he tells Socrates that he is always ‘laughing at others and refuting them all, but never himself being willing to undergo an argument or reveal his opinion about anything’ (Mem. 4.4.9). But Symposium proves this to be a false image of Socratic process. Antisthenes' second misreading of irony occurs when Socrates claims that Antisthenes is a procurer (4.60–4: μαστροπόϛ 4.61 προαγαγεία). Antisthenes takes this as serious and is ‘very much angered’ at being called such names. We can see in his misreadings the reason why Xenophon signalled his own ironies so clearly: an Antisthenes would be incapable of understanding the alleged ironies Page 8 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies of Cyropaedia, when he is not even capable of seeing these more obvious ones. His misunderstanding is even more glaring because it comes at the end of a round in which Socrates defines the nature of procuring and secures from the company a parody of the usual endorsement of such definitions in the Socratic works: ‘Yes very much so (πάνυ μὲν οὐ̑ν)’. This is the answer they have been giving to everything that Socrates has been saying throughout his definition (4.56–9) and in case we miss the joke, Xenophon makes it clear not once—‘And once they first said “Yes very much so”, this was the answer they all gave (p. 342) from then on’ (4.56)—but twice: ‘At this point opinions were divided and some said: “The one who pleases the most” but the others said “Yes very much so”’, even when the question could not be answered that way. There is further parody of the manner of Socratic dialogue in Socrates' formulaic pronouncement on their division of opinion that ‘it is agreed’ in spite of the division of opinion. The parody of a serious philosophic process may make us think of Socrates' ability to secure such agreement no matter what the circumstances. Antisthenes fails to get the message so badly on this occasion that he is calmed down only when Socrates spells out the serious implications of his irony and gives actual instances of how Antisthenes has procured people for friendship in philosophy. Socrates is a more acute ironical reader of Antisthenes' play when he joins in the game and professes his lust for Socrates (8.4–6): Socrates brushes him off by pretending he is too busy for sex, but he goes on to spell out the two levels by declaring that he knows that Antisthenes lusts for his body rather than his soul and they should keep that a secret from everybody. Throughout these ironies the signals of the play are as clear as ever: Xenophon describes Socrates as ‘joking’ and reacting ‘as if being wooed’ in the conversation with Antisthenes for instance. The Syracusan entrepreneur is another unacceptable extreme of humour that consists in comic abuse. His is a malign kind of play—taunting others to no serious or useful moral effect—and since it comes closest to some of the darker ironies credited to Xenophon, it is interesting to note the strongly negative reaction to it among the assembled kaloikagathoi. The Syracusan begins his boorish taunts at 4.52–5, when the presumption is made that the source of his pride is his boy acrobat; he replies that he is not a source of pride but of fear that certain persons are plotting to ‘corrupt’ him (διαϕθει̑ραι), an obvious hit against Socrates. Socrates tries to defuse the charge with humour: he takes the verb in its other sense and wonders who on earth would want to ‘kill’ the boy. The Syracusan explains leadenly that he means they want to sleep with him, but Socrates deflects this taunt as well by getting the Syracusan to admit that he sleeps with the boy: what pure flesh he must have if he does not corrupt him! Even this does not stop the Syracusan, who then says that he prides himself on the ‘fools’ who pay for his shows, a hit against his host Callias, who deflects it by changing the subject. His offensiveness reappears (p.343) when he abuses Socrates again, ‘out of envy’ because his acrobats are being ignored in favour of Page 9 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies Socrates' more educated play (6.6). He plays on themes known from Aristophanes' Clouds, asking Socrates whether for instance he is the one called the ‘Thinker’. Socrates sees the blow coming and asks whether it would be better to be called the ‘Thoughtless’. The Syracusan pursues his abuse and asks whether this is his ‘thought’ into the higher heavenly phenomena, which anticipates again the charges of his trial. Socrates parries him: ‘Do you know anything higher than the gods?’ The Syracusan says outright that the things he investigates are of the ‘most useless kind’ (ἀνωϕελεστάτων); but Socrates continues to try to defuse the hostility (and the charges of the trial) by developing a pun on ‘most useless’, saying that the gods are indeed on high (ἄνωθεν) and that they indeed are of assistance (ὠϕλου̑σι), the two parts of which spell out ‘most useless’ while conveying the opposite meaning. He apologizes for the frigidity of his pun (yet another kind of play defined by Aristotle), but blames the Syracusan for forcing him to it. Cyrus is accused of the same frigid jokes at Cyr. 8.4.22–3. The Syracusan comes back with a request to measure the distance of a flea's jump, referring disparagingly to Socrates' reputation as a ‘useless’ geometer. The other guests speak to the reader when they find the Syracusan's humour unacceptable and intervene to support Socrates. Antisthenes tells Philip that he is good at ‘doing a likeness’ (Philip has given an earlier example of his silly physical mimicries of the acrobats: 2.21–2), and does he not think that the Syracusan ‘seems to be like one who wishes to be abused (λοιδορει̑σθαι)?’ Socrates in his usual role of peacemaker advises him not to imitate the Syracusan since that would be to ‘imitate one who is abusive’ (and thus, in the mimesis, take on his character); but Philip resists and eventually is driven to ask how he will be worthy of his dinner if he does not do the likenesses he is called upon to do; Socrates then tells him, significantly for the theme of appropriate behaviour at a party, that he will be worthy if he does not say ‘what should not be said’ and Xenophon ends this episode with the remark that this was an example of ‘convivial unpleasantness’ that Socrates narrowly ‘extinguished’. The Syracusan's kind of irony is unacceptable to the kaloikagathoi because he is undermining the reputation of one who is being presented throughout as a man of kalokagathia and also because of his tone, which is not (p.344) like the graceful ironies of other guests, but mean. We could find a counterpart for the Syracusan in the Xenophon who is alleged to laugh at the virtue of Callias the priest of the Mysteries (who is present as a kaloskagathos at this party) in Hellenica (pp. 105–11); and yet it is clear from the reception of his abuse by the kaloikagathoi that Xenophon would in taunting Callias be saying ‘what must not be said’ in a way unworthy of himself as kaloskagathos. Socrates defines the play that laughs at others when he accuses Callias of ‘joking in contempt’ in praising the philosophers when he has already purchased wisdom, but that is his own brand of self‐deprecation (1.4–5).

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies In the longest episode of the work (8) Socrates approaches the extreme of seriousness in his lecture about the nature of love, which is designed to encourage Callias to serve the city of Athens as its leader; but he acknowledges his plain speaking by apologizing for being ‘more serious than suits a party’, thereby confirming play as an essential ingredient. We return to the relations between seriousness and play at the end of the work in the mime of the marriage of Dionysus and Ariadne as performed by the Syracusan's troupe (section 9). This is the product of the suggestion of Socrates to the Syracusan that he put on something more charming and suitable for a party. The performance is allied to irony in its possession of two levels, the playful and the serious, the lie and the truth, and also the superhuman and the human because the actors are slaves rather than divine persons and they are playing out a myth rather than a reality. These various tensions between play and reality and truth and lies are nevertheless dissolved because the actors turn out to be lovers in serious reality as they are in playful appearance: ‘Ariadne looked like a modest girl’, but they ‘kissed in truth with their mouths’, and ‘they seemed like people not taught their movements, but released finally to do what they had long desired’. Here we have an improving mimesis, unlike that proposed by the clown earlier, since the married members of the company are inspired to imitate the heroic/divine wedding night and speed off home to their wives.17 The resolution is like that of irony, in (p.345) which the serious meaning triumphs but resonates against the play, and it is also like Socratic irony in its grace and charm and its signalling of the message. Xenophon ends with the comment that this was the ‘resolution’ of the symposium—as other tensions too. 2. The Persian Symposium

We find a similar range of humour in the drinking party at Cyropaedia 2.2. Here the host is Cyrus, but his improving influence is completely Socratic. Xenophon announces seriousness in play and the moral improvement it fosters from the outset as the agenda of this party too, as in Symposium: ‘Whenever Cyrus dined in company, he always took care that the speech introduced was very light‐ hearted but tending toward goodness’ (2.2.1). He continues to send clear signals throughout the party: ‘Thus Cyrus, jesting, praised the soldiers at the same time’ (2.2.11); ‘Things of this sort, jesting and serious at the same time, were said and done at this party’ (2.3.1).18 We find a reflection of the appropriate behaviour shown at this party in the observations that Gobryas was later to make on Cyrus' Persians: that they asked one another questions that it was pleasant to answer at their meals and parties, and that they indulged in joking that was pleasant, respectable, and gave no offence (Cyr. 5.2.18). The play in the first phase of Cyrus' party seems to be a more civilized form of comedy than that of Philip, but still mainly designed to raise a laugh; it is Cyrus who makes it morally improving. Cyrus begins the conversation by asking the Page 11 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies Persians present whether they think that their new recruits are going to be very different from them in their ‘associations’. (He has just recruited the commoners into the ranks of those he is addressing.) He elicits funny stories about their greed at dinner and their ignorance of simple orders. The habit in dining was to pass the food around the circle, beginning at either end, so that those in the middle never had the choice of the best (p.346) portions. A new recruit complained of this treatment when he missed out in the first round and the commander called him to hear his complaint, but he happened therefore to be at the end of the line that received the platter in the next round, so the man missed out again. Finally the food begins to circulate with him in prize place, and the complainant takes a big piece, but then he thinks it is too small and puts it back. The waiter moves on, thinking he has had enough. In his frustration he drops his plate, along with what was left of the sauce as well. In the other story the comedy is focused on the military order to ‘go forward’ i.e. advance. A new recruit standing in line thinks this means he is to go forward in front of the man in front, which happens to be his captain. When he is told he should not advance alone, he tells the rest of the squad to hurry up and join him. When it is more forcefully explained that advancing means following the man in front, this duty is also taken literally. Wherever the captain goes, even in the delivery of a letter, there is the recruit, and all the others, right behind him. The reaction of the company is to laugh at the stories (2.2.5, 2.2.10). Cyrus laughs too, but he pursues his serious purpose of producing a cohesive army by interpreting the stories for praise rather than blame and making the elite see the value of their new fellows. In the case of the greedy recruit, he says that he gives them his friendship for just a little piece of meat, and of the man who misunderstood orders he says that he was ready to obey his commander's orders before he even knew what they were (2.2.10). ‘So Cyrus even as he laughed praised the soldiers’. This is not irony in the strict sense in which the one character says one thing and means another, but Cyrus seems to be resolving the two levels of play and serious that constitute irony by finding hidden praise in what others blame. Immediately following, at the other extreme of humour, we find Aglaitadas, ‘the most austere of men’, who believes that serious moral improvement is achieved only through tearful and not through comic experiences, and who completes the range of characters involved in play and seriousness, truth and lies. He says that the stories are untrue and those who tell them are liars: ἀλαζονεύονται (2.2.11). Cyrus defends the storytellers by defining alazones in the Socratic sense as those who claim to be richer or braver than they really are, (p.347) do so for their own profit, and are in fact unable to match their boasts with action,19 and then contrasting such liars with the storytellers, who tell stories only for the amusement of the company, do no harm with the stories, nor profit from them, and might better be called ‘urbane’ and ‘good‐graced’ ἀστει̑οι καὶ εὐχάριτεϛ (2.2.12). Xenophon calls one of these stories a χαριτία, the only time this word Page 12 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies occurs in ancient literature except as the name of a nymph; perhaps he has created a new muse of light and improving fiction.20 Cyrus is defining a style of story here that tells lies, to which we would give the name ‘fiction’. The instructional value of such fiction then becomes a focus of conversation.21 One of the company wonders whether Aglaitadas would be happier if they tried to make him weep, ‘like some who tell piteous stories in songs and speeches (ἐν ᾠδαι̑ϛ καὶ ἐν λόγοιϛ λογοποιου̑ντεϛ) and drive the audience to tears’. Aglaitadas replies that it is indeed more worthy to make your friends cry than to make them laugh, since that is the way people learn virtue and justice in real life from their fathers and teachers and the laws. ‘How could you say that those who make us laugh assist our bodies or make our minds more fitted for the management of household or polis?’ (2.2.14). The kind of performance he prefers must include tragedy but also other kinds of stories. Whatever their nature, Aglaitadas is wrong in his view that only the literature of tears produces the serious virtue of being able to (p.348) manage households and poleis—because Xenophon has already said in the introduction to the party that the light‐hearted stories told there are morally improving, and he confirms that message in the introduction to his Symposium, where the boasts of the company could be considered as improving stories. His reference to tragic literature suggests that he is endorsing the serious instruction that comes from comic fiction alongside tragic forms, and is entering into the debate we find later in Aristotle's Poetics about the greater seriousness of tragedy over other genres and the superior pleasure it creates in its audiences.22 People do learn from being beaten by their fathers and punished by the laws, and they learn from tragic literary experience too, but they learn just as well from the literary and real‐life experience of humour and its various expressions. There is a similar comparison between tragedy and comic skits in Symposium 3.11, where the clown values the laughter he provokes in audiences above the tears produced by Callipides the tragic actor, but his more clownish forms of humour do not have the same capacity to improve others as Xenophon's light fiction does. The production of tears of course had its instructional value in tragedy and also in real life, as Xenophon shows when he answers the charge of beating his followers in Anabasis 5.8; here he defends his own production of tears by comparing his punishments to those of the parents and teachers that Aglaitadas cited, as well as to a doctor who ‘burns and cuts for the good of the patient’ and to the punishment administered to wayward crews in the midst of a great storm at sea when lives are at stake (An. 5.8.18–20). Yet as if to prove the point that laughter can be as improving as tears, he goes on to say that now when the storm has passed, he beats no more—even though he is much bolder than before because of success and is drinking more heavily(!). Tears have brought them through the storm then, but now free of danger, Xenophon uses that other more Page 13 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies pleasant style of instruction—in that light touch about his boldness and his drinking, which makes his account one of these stories that tell witty and urbane lies in order to instruct the company in the correct attitude (p.349) they should have toward him. There seems to be a connection between the instruction provided by fictitious tales and ironic ones. Xenophon returns to the blending of the serious and the playful when he shows the rest of the company lightening the austerity of Aglaitadas by provoking him to laughter, as Socrates lightened the abuse of the entrepreneur. Aglaitadas is subjected to a metaphor, in which he is told to make his enemies weep and spend the valuable commodity of tears on them, but to lavish on his friends the cheap commodity of his laughter: it will evidently come cheap because he has used so little of it and has a large supply stored away. When he asks whether they are trying to make him laugh, another guest swears that would be mad because one could strike fire off him sooner than laughter, and this makes the company smile (‘they know his character’)—and even Aglaitadas smiles. Cyrus then ironically blames them for ‘wronging’ such an enemy of laughter by moving him to smile. The critic Demetrius admired this passage for its ability to make light out of darkness and combine play with seriousness: On Style (134–5). Xenophon seems to be using this party to display his literary skills in the combination of the playful and serious, as well as advertise the kind of literature that is genuinely improving. There seems to be no chance of blackening Cyrus in this episode, but it has been tried. Tatum (1989), 200 comments that Aglaitadas ‘refuses to live by Cyrus' rules’, and as a result: ‘He is dropped from the narrative, and, we assume, from Cyrus' service’. Nadon (2001), 76–7 made Aglaitadas the only member of the elite to ‘speak up for their former way of life and to question Cyrus' innovations…out of concern for virtue and the good of the city’. The way he is made to smile at the end is thus described: ‘Aglaitadas’ brief forced smile illuminates, if only for a moment, the almost inhuman severity of a regime whose loyal citizens must practise a kind of self‐brutalization, one that requires them both to accept their beating willingly and then to praise them out of gratitude'. Aglaitadas thus questions the regime and at the same time in his endorsement of tears demonstrates its brutal tendency. Comments such as this are inclined to make us forget that the ‘rules’ and the ‘ways of life’ mentioned are merely the need for parties to be light‐hearted and that Aglaitadas is not speaking up against Cyrus' military or political innovations but this simple requirement of diners in his tent not to ruin the party. Gera (p.350) (1993), 161–8 properly recognizes Aglaitadas as a type who illustrates not opposition to leaders or their regimes, but the incorrect way to behave at a party, and whose smile is not a sign of brutality but of a return to appropriate behaviour (pp. 162–3). The disappearance of Aglaitadas from the narrative after his appearance at this

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies symposium is not a sign of subsequent alienation, but that he has served his purpose.23 Cyrus' party ends with an example of irony that sends positive messages about virtue and particularly about the delights of willing obedience. One of the Persians has brought to the party a companion who is ‘extremely hairy and extremely ugly’. Cyrus asks him whether he keeps this man by him because he is such a lovely boy (2.2.28).24 When the man agrees that he does get a lot of pleasure out of his company and the sight of him gives him pleasure too, Xenophon signals the discord between this remark and the reality in directing the gaze of the company towards him: ‘when they saw the visage of the man, which was overflowing—with ugliness, they all fell to laughing’. The audience asks what the appeal is, and Sambaulas explains that his hairy friend is pleasant to look upon because he is such an enthusiastic assistant who comes running night and day when called and never tries to give an excuse or drag his feet. Whatever he is asked to do is never done without heavy sweating and effort, and he has set an example to the other members of the unit in this kind of toil. This is a humorous version of the serious display of sweaty service that Cyrus puts on for Cyaxares in Cyropaedia 2.4.1–4. The message is the usual endorsement of willing obedience of followers and friends and the pleasure that this gives as a spectacle to the one who receives and gazes upon it. When the captain is then challenged to kiss the man, the ugly man replies with fairly leaden irony too: that the captain is not fond of toil, and kissing him would be harder work than army exercises. The ironic play on beauty and ugliness makes the reader reflect on the definition of ‘the (p.351) beautiful’ as ‘the useful’ as at Memorabilia 3.8 and on the greater beauty of usefulness over physical appeal in a friend and follower. We have seen that other more serious scenes of willing obedience have serious instructional value for those who gaze upon them in Xenophon's view (pp. 187–93), and this humorous version of such a scene provides a similar learning experience with a lighter touch, confirming the instructional value that comes from playing in seriousness.

Irony in Oeconomicus Xenophon portrays Socrates ‘playing in seriousness’ in Oeconomicus too, and his irony continues to be clearly signalled, but the work is complex in its structure and in its irony. Oeconomicus is a dialogue in which Socrates is instructing Critobulus in the great achievement of the kaloskagathos, which is how to manage an estate (1–6). But within this dialogue Socrates embeds another conversation, which he relates for the benefit of Critobulus, in which he shows himself learning estate management from Ischomachus (7–the end). He identifies Ischomachus as a kaloskagathos and therefore able to teach this subject (‘I will tell you from the beginning my encounter with a man who seemed to me in truth to be one of those who in all justice deserve the name

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies “kaloskagathos”’.: 6.12). And within this account Ischomachus himself embeds the instruction that he once gave to his wife in household management (7–10). Structurally, this embedding makes a most unusual work. The main philosophic effect (as opposed to entertainment, putting a range of characters on the stage, etc.) is to allow Xenophon to display a range of instructional methods and interactions, the first in which Critobulus learns from Socrates, the second in which Socrates learns from Ischomachus, and the third in which Ischomachus teaches his own wife. The range is quite considerable. In the conversation with Critobulus for instance we have not only Socrates' usual instruction through definitions, but his endorsement of ‘viewing’ as a way of learning that we have seen in a previous chapter (pp. 190–3), the production of a model for Critobulus to imitate in the form of the Persian king, and (p.352) finally, according to the promise that Socrates will send Critobulus on to others for instruction, we have the model of Ischomachus' conversation with Socrates. Ischomachus' instruction to his wife and to Socrates takes the form of conversation too, but in his instruction of Socrates we find a focus also on how questioning can through the use of analogies bring to light knowledge that lies hidden in the soul, in the process recognizable from Plato.25 Socrates' instruction of Critobulus begins in the way we recognize from Memorabilia, in extended definitions of household management and its ‘works’ or functions, and of the ‘possessions’ that constitute an estate (they turn out of course to include friends). In this we encounter the first instance of irony when Socrates declares that he is the wealthy man and pities Critobulus for his poverty (Oec. 2.2ff). The initial response of Critobulus is to laugh, which signals the surface absurdity, and to challenge Socrates to compare their possessions, but it turns out that this is a complex irony in which a claim that seems ridiculous in one way turns out to be entirely true in another. Socrates admits that his estate is worth about 5 minae while that of Critobulus is worth much more, but proves that his own small estate serves all his needs whereas there are demands on Critobulus that make him poor (his large sacrifices, his generous hospitality to foreigners and citizens, his liturgic services to the polis). He observes moreover that whereas his friends would need to give him very little to make up any shortfall in his economy, the friends of Critobulus look to him to give money rather than receive it. Critobulus gets the message quite quickly and asks for instruction, at which Socrates then spells out the irony: that previously he laughed at him and refuted him into agreeing that his wealth was minimal, but now he wants Socrates to look after him so that he does not become truly a poor man (2.9). The irony revolves around the tension in the relativity of wealth, which was his measure also for the definition of the good (Mem. 3.8.5; Hiero 4.8–10).

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies It is more difficult to explain the other larger irony in which Socrates refuses to teach Critobulus estate management directly, but does so through his report of his encounter with Ischomachus. (p.353) We could explain this in terms of what Socrates does at Memorabilia 4.7, which is to send his pupils to experts when he lacks expert knowledge: ‘What he knew that was fitting for a kaloskagathos himself he taught most enthusiastically of all. For what he had no experience of, he took them to those who knew’ (4.7.1). He does justify his refusal to teach Critobulus directly by saying that he has no experience of estate management (2.3, 2.11) and he speaks to Memorabilia 4.7.1 when he promises to send him to the experts, whom, he says, he has taken care to identify (1.14– 18); they include Ischomachus as well as Aspasia as an expert on the management of women (Oec. 3.14; also Mem. 2.6.36). But at the time he is speaking to Critobulus, Socrates has had his encounter with Ischomachus and has already learned estate management from him. Furthermore, Critobulus accuses him of evasion on the grounds that he should ‘know the theory’ even if he does not have the experience of estate management (2.12–14) and we might at least expect him to know the virtues of the kaloskagathos such as self‐control, which he also presents himself as learning from Ischomachus alongside the more technical side of farming, planting, and harvesting, which he may not know. The most obvious positive reason for his indirectness is that he wishes to give Critobulus an illustration of the learning process he went through at the hands of Ischomachus. It becomes very clear in the course of the encounter that how Socrates acquired knowledge is as much a focus of this dialogue as the knowledge itself; and it was the process of learning that the dialogue form alone could represent. Critobulus is the immediate dramatic audience for this learning model and he needs to learn what it is to learn, as well as learn estate management in particular. This would also explain why Socrates plays the pupil of Ischomachus in this report, to show Critobulus what the correct disposition is in a person who wishes to learn estate management. Memorabilia 1.3.1 indicates that his example was as important as his conversations to his associates and this could extend to a modelling of learning. This might explain also why Socrates presents himself as finding nothing to criticize in Ischomachus' instruction. When the reader of Plato finds him posing as the pupil, we expect him to be preparing to force Ischomachus to reveal opinions in order to refute in the regular manner, but this does not (p.354) happen. This failure to criticize or refute Ischomachus means that Critobulus cannot be confused by the complications of elenchus, which Xenophon in any case represents in Symposium as an unpleasant process, and in Memorabilia as something to be used only on the young and ignorant and not a man of the mature knowledge of Ischomachus. Darker readings claim that Ischomachus is presented as a parody of real knowledge, but this goes against Socrates' very serious description of him as a kaloskagathos (6.12 above: ‘in truth’, ‘justly’) and against the clear signalling we Page 17 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies have come to expect for irony in the Socratic works. Socrates' failure to criticize Ischomachus indeed seems a signal that he accepts his views as correct. It has been noticed that Ischomachus' kalokagathia is in fact very Socratic, and that both of them are wealthy by the definition that Socrates offers to Critobulus: they both meet their needs and make a surplus.26 The only difference is that the needs of Ischomachus and the surplus he makes are greater. We hear in Socrates' insistence on the need for self‐control to Critobulus (1.16– 23) the same virtue that will be spelled out by Ischomachus also (20). Ischomachus also memorably endorses the need for willing obedience at the end of his conversation (21.12) and this is also one of the functions of estate management that Socrates presents to Critobulus (3.4). There are many more such similarities between the poor philosopher and the wealthy estate owner, including their instructional method of bringing knowledge to birth though questioning, as we shall see. Xenophon makes it clear in his Socratic works and in Poroi, that a polis such as Athens needs men of wealth who also possess kalokagathia. Ischomachus confirms this when he secures the agreement of Socrates to the importance of his service to the polis through the disposing of his wealth (11.9): ‘It is pleasant for me to honour the gods greatly and assist friends if they need anything and ensure that the polis is not unadorned with money (p. 355) according to my ability’. Socrates responds in agreement that many men are in need, many just have a sufficiency, but those with resources can not only manage their own estates but make a surplus so as to adorn the polis and lighten the burdens of their friends (11.10). These aims echo other positive paradigms (the adornment of the polis in Hiero 11.2, the way that Socrates brings rich and poor men together to remedy need in Memorabilia 2.7–10, his own earlier definition of wealth as making a surplus, and the use of surplus to adorn the city at Poroi 6.1). Something else is going on in this dialogue other than the ironization of Ischomachus and this seems to be the instruction of Critobulus. The surface motive that Xenophon gives Socrates for his desire to learn from Ischomachus is that it is pleasant and instructive to listen to accounts of kalokagathia. Socrates notes that Ischomachus takes pleasure in giving such an account too; when he asks why he was called kaloskagathos, he describes Ischomachus as: ‘laughing at the question of the actions that made him be called kaloskagathos, and taking pleasure in it, as it seemed to me…’ (7.3). Socrates repeats the pleasure in learning and in teaching kalokagathia when he asks Ischomachus again to describe his other functions once he has given the account of how he educated his wife: ‘Come on, tell me now of your activities, in order that you should get pleasure in relating things that give you your good repute and so that I in hearing and learning in their fullness the activities of a kaloskagathos man, if I can, should show you my great gratitude’ (11.1). Ischomachus answers too that this will give him great pleasure. There is another marking of the theme when Socrates says that it is more pleasant to learn of the virtue of Ischomachus' wife than to see any work of art (10.1), and at 16.9 that Page 18 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies ‘learning with pleasure is the mark of a philosopher’. The love of learning is a mark of pupils of potential excellence at Mem. 4.1.2, 4.5.10, and a necessary attribute of leaders like Cyrus too (Cyr. 1.2.1). At face value then, Socrates' irony facilitates the acquisition of knowledge and gives him pleasure by getting others to speak or even boast of their wisdom. This is characteristic of the Socrates who encouraged the guests to boast of their wisdom in Symposium, of Agesilaus, who found it easy to listen to the boasts of others while not given to boasting himself in his encomium (Ag. 8.2), of Cyrus, who encourages his troops to boast of their achievements and hears (p.356) them with pleasure (Cyr. 4.4.1–3), and also of the Persians in general, who ask question that are pleasant to answer (Cyr. 5.2.18). It is therefore an effective example of the love of learning and of teaching kalokagathia to offer Critobulus, who appears in the original conversation to be not entirely happy at the prospect of learning and to prefer to laugh at comedies rather than learn management. Critobulus learns to learn as he sits alongside Socrates as he learns from Ischomachus. We have seen a localized irony in which Socrates proves that he is quite as wealthy as Critobulus in spite of his poverty. Another localized irony about wealth occurs at 11.1–7. Ischomachus has just said that it will give him ‘pleasure’ to meet Socrates' request and describe his functions as a kaloskagathos, but only in order that Socrates correct him if he does anything wrong, indicating his belief that Socrates has a greater knowledge. In response, Socrates protests his lack of wisdom in the comic way: as a babbler who measures the ether, but also for his poverty, which shows the greatest lack of wisdom of all in the perception of others. He says this made him very depressed, but he took heart when one day he saw a horse with a crowd of admirers around it. Socrates asked the groom whether it was wealthy. The groom, Socrates said, looked at him as though he was not in his right mind and asked him how a horse could have wealth. The groom is Xenophon's unsuccessful ironical reader. There is something about the surface of Socrates' question that he finds odd, but instead of trying alternative meanings as informed ironical readers would, he merely concludes that Socrates is a lunatic. Socrates concluded, however, that if it was permitted by the gods (θεμιτόν) for a horse without wealth to have virtue, so a man who was poor like himself might also become good; so he repeats his request for instruction and promises to start imitating Ischomachus the next morning, which he says is a good day to begin goodness. Ischomachus recognizes Socrates' play at this point (11.7): ‘You are playing, Socrates’, but he adds that in spite of this he will describe the habits he adopts in his life, taking up Socrates' reference to what the gods permit and beginning with the regular Socratic view that the gods do not grant success if men have not already learned what it is in their capacity to learn and have achieved what can be achieved through learning (Mem. 1.1.6–10). Socrates may feign ignorance to (p.357) please Ischomachus and to hear with pleasure the account of his virtue, but he tells the story about the horse because it enriches the thought about the Page 19 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies connection of wealth and virtue, especially for Critobulus who is the external audience, not least by indicating that even a groom knows that wealth is no necessary sign of virtue; it can however be a product of virtue, and this is what Ischomachus reveals in describing his own activities as a kaloskagathos of considerable wealth. There are also specific ironies reflecting the larger instructional process. Ischomachus ‘laughs’ and signals again that Socrates is ‘playing’ at 17.9, when he asks Socrates in the process of teaching him to farm the land whether he would put more seed into thinner or into richer soil. Socrates replies with some analogies: that the stronger the wine the more water it can take, the stronger the bearer, the more he can carry, and the richer the man, the more poor men he can feed; but he then asks Ischomachus to ‘teach’ him whether thin soil is the exception and carries the more the more you put onto it—like beasts of burden. Ischomachus replies that Socrates is playing, but he goes on to say that land can be seeded in abundance while conditions are good, but the crops should then be thinned out and the superfluous crop made to feed the rest, since weak land will not bring all the crops to fruition. Socrates then asks whether he should conclude that weaker soil should have less seed? Ischomachus responds by pointing out that Socrates must agree since he already knows that lesser burdens should be put on lesser things; he is pointing to the truth revealed in the original analogies that Socrates had produced.27 In this episode we see that Socrates' profession of ignorance at least of the technical side of farming is a complex irony that brings out the focus on instruction that seems to be at the heart of the work overall. For he finds that though he thought he did not know about farming, Ischomachus' questioning draws out of him a knowledge that he does already possess, in the process of bringing innate knowledge to birth through questioning that we recognize as Platonic midwifery. (p.358) Ischomachus regularly brings attention to the fact that Socrates gives him answers to his questions that reveal his innate knowledge of the techniques of farming (16.8, 17.6, 18.3, 18.5, 18.9, 19.5, 19.11). At 19.13 he says that because of this innate knowledge Socrates is only ‘testing’ him when he asks him about planting olives, and this culminates in Socrates musing: ‘Can it be that questioning is a kind of teaching? I have learned just now how you ask me about each thing. You lead me through ways I know already, pointing out things similar to those I thought I did not know and you persuade me, I think, that I know these things as well’ (19.15). Socrates' reference to ‘things similar to those he thought he did not know’ of course includes the analogies he made at 17.9. Socrates' own argument also proceeded ‘through agreement’ and questioning and also through analogies (Mem. 4.6.12, one of the many ways in which he resembles Ischomachus). The easiness with which Socrates appears to learn would appeal to Critobulus as the immediate audience as well as the pleasure he gets out of the process and this ease is endorsed further by both Socrates and Ischomachus (15.4: ‘the philanthropy of Page 20 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies this art…easiest to learn’; 15.13: ‘easy to learn…to learn easy things’; 16.1 ‘not difficult’). Ischomachus explains that farming is such a generous art that she will show you what to do, and that you merely need to use the evidence of your eyes (19.5). Another illustration of his interest in the method of learning is Socrates' comment on how instructionally effective Ischomachus' analogies have been: 17.15. Ischomachus recognizes that Socrates is playing in seriousness again at Oeconomicus 20.26–8 when he tells Socrates that his father used to buy land cheap, improve it, and sell it on at a profit (20.26), and that this made him a ‘lover of farming’. Socrates endorses this with an exaggerated analogy: his father is like the merchants who are such grain‐lovers that they will go to any lengths to get it and will then go to even greater lengths to find out where it is getting the best prices. Ischomachus says: ‘You are playing with me, Socrates’ (20.28), but adds that he believes that those who build houses are no less ‘lovers of houses’ if they sell what they build—another analogy. Socrates then draws a very serious generalization from the three separate instances: that people are all naturally inclined to love that from which they can get ‘assistance’ and he ‘swears to this’ (p.359) presumably as a guarantee that he is no longer playing (20.29).28 This principle he draws out reflects the very serious earlier definition of ‘possessions’ as those things which one knows how to use for one's ‘assistance’ and which the possessor must love for their use (1.5–15). Ischomachus thinks Socrates is playing perhaps because he overstates the zeal of the merchants or because the analogy strikes him as inappropriate in some other way, but the apparently ludicrous lightly covers the serious truth and the ironic presentation enriches the principle of loving that which is useful. An analogy from estate management enriches the love of the useful in Symposium 8.25 as well: the lover who takes carnal pleasures from his beloved is like the man who merely rents a farm, harvesting its crops, but the lover who seeks the friendship of his beloved is like the man who owns a farm and does everything he can to improve its value. The examples above show that Xenophon uses ironies in his Socratic works for a variety of effects. In Oeconomicus he uses them to display instructional method, whereas in Symposium they display the appropriate behaviour of the kaloskagathos at such parties, and in Memorabilia they are used for educational purposes as well as for enrichment. They are clearly signalled by the author himself or his characters, which distinguishes them from the other darker ironies that have been found in Xenophon's works, and they have a lighter spirit, in pretending to views of inferior worth in order to give positive moral messages and in characterizing the play of the kaloskagathos as graceful and improving. They receive negative reactions from the author or his characters when they take the darker forms of comic abuse. The darker ironies require a surface that speaks to the masses while subtle signs reveal the hidden truth to the coterie, but Socrates practises his irony even when the audience consists only of Page 21 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies kaloikagathoi: Symposium is a private party of kaloikagathoi, the mass public is not in evident attendance in Oeconomicus or Memorabilia; and if the ironies are addressed to the external reading audiences, the signs are too clear for the masses to miss the hidden meaning and the messages they send would not have offended them in the first place. (p.360) A final point is that though we cannot match Xenophon's conversational Socratic ironies with Straussian ones, we can match them with other patterns in his narrative. We have seen that the overt evaluations of leadership in Hellenica admit a surface appearance of unworthiness, but regularly invite the reader to discover the true worth beneath the surface. This is what goes on in Socratic ironies as well, where Socrates seems to be presenting base and trivial views, but these are just a front for matters of the utmost seriousness.

Socrates and Theramenes Xenophon uses ironies outside the Socratic works to enhance themes in his narratives as well as to characterize virtue. I have mentioned in the context of overt evaluations the ironical remarks that Xenophon credits to Theramenes at Hellenica 2.3.56 on the eve of his execution, and that Xenophon's Socrates makes at Apologia Socratis 28 on the eve of his own execution.29 We remember there that Apollodorus, a loyal but simple young man, said what he found hardest to bear was to see Socrates being put to death unjustly. Socrates touched his head and asked him whether he would prefer him to be put to death justly; then he laughed. We remember there also the ironic comments of Theramenes as he is dragged to his death; when his jailor tells him he will suffer unless he is silent, he retorts: ‘So will I not suffer if I am silent?’, and when he drinks the hemlock, he tosses out the dregs as in the game of ‘kottabos’ and gives his ‘best wishes to the lovely Critias’. These ironies show the same features as those that have been examined in this chapter: the blending of the serious and the playful and of lightness with darkness. They are clearly signalled, characterize the speakers, and enrich the meaning of the preceding narrative. The signals include the overt evaluation of Theramenes' playfulness and the description of Socrates' laughter. Their ability to play even in the face of death demonstrates their courage, and though (p. 361) Theramenes comes close to the clownish extreme of humour, like those comic exchanges between Euripides' relative and the Scythian jailer in Aristophanes' Thesmophoriazousae, his remarks are redeemed by the serious quality they reveal, which is his intelligent perception of his situation and his courage. Socrates' exchange provokes readers to reflect on justice and the comparison between the deserved and the undeserved death; better to die innocent than a criminal, as in Plato, Gorgias 473a: τὸ ἀδικει̑ν του̑ ἀδικει̑σθαι κάκιον εἰ̑ναι. Theramenes' exchange with his jailor provokes reflection on the role of free speech in an oppressive regime; the previous narrative shows his suffering for speaking out against Critias' oppressive policies; he did this in order to stop policies that would bring down the regime, which at his trial he Page 22 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies held to be the action of a true friend (2.3.37–43). There is an irony of situation here as well as utterance, in which he would have suffered if he had been silent by being brought down with that regime, and has suffered in any case by trying to correct its error by speaking out. Xenophon gives us a parallel for the problem faced by Theramenes as critic of his society in his view that the citizens of the oppressive regime of Hiero cannot condemn him to his face without fear of suffering either (Hiero 1.14–15). Theramenes' toast to Critias is equally full of resonance, enriching the thought about their original friendship and its dissolution, in the oscillations between the apparent playfulness of the game and the deadly contents of the cup, between the apparent good wishes to the former friend who was once his drinking partner and the deadly fact that his toast to him is in hemlock when he has now become his enemy; between the prison setting and the setting of the symposium, which the toast recalls; between the outward beauty of Critias and the inner cruelty of his spirit. These particular ironies exemplify the ability for which Xenophon was noted in antiquity to blend the light and playful with the dark by showing characters demonstrating positive qualities in dire circumstances.30 They reveal in both cases the threat of regimes that unjustly put to death those who are attempting to benefit them. This is as true of Socrates' democracy as of Theramenes' oligarchy even though (p.362) Socrates' benefit to Athenians does not involve speaking out against the democracy but remedying individual needs and securing corporate success that way. Xenophon does not redeem Critias' regime, which Socrates condemns also for its injustice in Memorabilia 1.2.29–38, but he has the Socrates in Armenia telling us that the fathers of sons who executed the historical Socrates should be forgiven for their ignorance (see pp. 219–22). His lightening of the darkness makes the darkness more telling, but also demonstrates the persistence of the lighter spirit even in his darker ironies.

Xenophon himself As another kaloskagathos, Xenophon uses irony in his own character in Anabasis 4.6.14–16, not in the face of death, but certainly of danger, and here too the signals are unsubtle. The play is on the concept of stealing in a military situation and so recalls all those other passages that teach that it is better to deceive the enemy than to tackle him head on and risk lives needlessly, including the instruction of Cyrus in Cyropaedia 1.6.26–40. So here Xenophon recommends that the army ‘steal’ a mountain position that is not held by the enemy rather than directly attacking the pass where they are stationed. He outlines at some length how this theft will best take place, but then he dismisses his knowledge: ‘But why I am putting guesses together about theft?’ and he turns to the Spartan commander Chirisophus to say that he is best placed to steal since as a Spartan he has been trained from boyhood to steal what the law allows and to avoid being caught and that the best Spartans are always the best thieves. This refers to the law Xenophon praises in his account of Lycurgan laws, which he expressly says teaches boys to become adept in the necessary military skills (RL 2.6–8). Page 23 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies The Spartan retaliates: Xenophon is the best placed to steal this mountain because the best of the Athenians regularly have their hand in the public cash‐ box even when the danger of being caught is considerable, and those who are best at this kind of thieving are the rulers. Xenophon signals his irony by giving a very exact formulation of how to steal from the enemy and then calling it guessing, and (p.363) Chirisophus teaches the reader how to take Xenophon's remarks when he joins in the game. The irony is again of the enriching kind because it provokes reflection on the morality of theft by offering three different kinds of theft: from the enemy (the mountain), which Xenophon endorses; from friends as sanctioned by law (in Sparta); and from friends without lawful sanction (in Athens). We know that Socrates differentiated these three kinds of theft as being always good when practised on enemies, sometimes good when practised on friends to their benefit, never good when done to get the advantage over them (Mem. 4.2.13– 18). Their ironic presentation here also provokes reflection on their difference and similarity. We could also read these ironies in terms of character. Taking the initiative in advising what must be done with the mountain could give offence to Chirisophus as a leader, so Xenophon defers to his superior knowledge in order to mollify him, as do the kaloikagathoi in Symposium. There might be a special reason for such deference in their previous recent difference, when Chirisophus lost them a good guide and this led to the only quarrel between Xenophon and Chirisophus on the whole journey (An. 4.6.2–3). Chirisophus may cause more direct offence to Xenophon when he accuses Athenians of criminal theft and refers to the best of the Athenians, but ironic communities know their tolerances.

Subversive Ironies To turn to the Straussian kind of irony credited to Xenophon's Socrates in the conversation with Hippias at Memorabilia 4.4 is to enter another world, in which he is transmitting a concealed view to the kaloikagathoi that threatens society rather than improving it, in which his irony lacks the clear signals we have come to expect, and does not have the customary light or grace. In this conversation Socrates appears to equate justice with obedience to the laws as the mainstay of any community, but beneath the surface he is alleged to question the equation and offer a covert teaching to the effect that the unwritten law has higher claims. Dorion has already challenged (p.364) the method behind this reading at length, so it takes no more than a summary of the positive points to support the surface reading.31 Memorabilia 4.4

The narrative introduction to the conversation offers his equation of justice with obedience to the laws as evidence of Socrates' plain instruction (4.4.1): ‘He did not conceal his opinion about justice either…’) and it demonstrates that he Page 24 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies equates justice with obedience to the laws in episodes from his own life, describing him as ‘…using all men in private life lawfully and usefully, and in public obeying so readily whatever the officers and the laws commanded in the polis and in the field that he manifestly kept his position by the side of the others in the ranks…’ (4.4.1–4). The episodes are his refusal to allow the demos to vote ‘contrary to the laws’ in the trial of the generals of Arginusae, his refusal to obey the orders of the Thirty because they were ‘contrary to the laws’, and his refusal at his own trial to go ‘against the laws’ even when it cost him his life. The main conversation between Socrates and Hippias also supports the equation of justice with obedience to the law, first in relation to the laws of men and then in relation to the laws of the gods. Socrates does at first evade the definition of justice (4.4.9–12), but responds to Hippias' discontent by eventually giving him a straight definition that ‘lawfulness is justice’ (4.4.12: τὸ νόμιμον δίκαιον). They then agree to define ‘laws’ as ‘what citizens write down for themselves in agreement about what to do and what not to do’ and proceed by assent to the concluding definition that: ‘the lawful man is just and the unlawful unjust’ (4.4.13). Hippias does then object, as interlocutors regularly do in the conversations of Memorabilia, on the grounds that obedience to written laws is ‘no serious matter’ since those who make them often change them, but Socrates defends these changes, again securing the assent of Hippias (4.4.14), and then proves that obedience to the laws is the foundation of the success of entire communities (4.4.14–16). He invites Hippias (p.365) to object to the definition at the end of this, but Hippias says he can find no objection to the equation (4.4.18). Socrates then raises the question of the unwritten laws of the gods, which he defines as those observed in all countries, and not needing to be written down because they carry an automatic penalty for transgression (4.4.19– 25). He proves the equation of justice with obedience to their laws in their name too: ‘So to the gods too, Hippias, it is pleasing that justice and lawfulness are the same thing’; and Hippias assents to the idea that the gods pass laws that are just too, thereby admitting it is just to obey them (4.4.25). The conclusion to the dialogue bears out the agenda: ‘By his words and actions he made his companions more just’. In spite of this surface coherence the argument is that the dialogue covertly addresses a conflict between the two types of law mentioned, on the grounds that unwritten law will sometimes over‐rule written law. This ignores the usual clear signals in Socratic ironies above, and involves explaining away why Socrates does not make the argument overt, why Hippias gives his assent to the equation when one obvious way of suggesting the hidden meaning would be to have him resist to the end, and why there is no purchase for the alleged conflict in the unwritten laws that Socrates cites. Dorion (2001/2010) has revealed the complicated twists and turns that are needed to create these explanations. It is especially telling that the four examples Socrates gives of unwritten law never could clash with the written law. They are: respect for the gods, respect for Page 25 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies parents, the law against intergenerational incest, and the endorsement of gratitude for service: 4.4.19–25. No reasonable community would legislate against respect for gods or parents and in favour of incest and ingratitude, and so there never could be a clash between the written and the unwritten laws in these examples. Socrates himself elsewhere confirms the compatibility of the written law of the polis with the unwritten law about worshipping the gods at Mem. 4.3.16–17, where the god of Delphi himself endorses obedience to the ‘law of the polis’ as the proper worship of the gods: ‘when someone asks the god how he should please the gods, he answers: “according to the law of the polis”’ Νόμῳ πόλεωϛ. Socrates confirms their compatibility earlier too and in the same way (Mem. 1.3.1: the Pythia responds that by acting in accordance with the law of the polis people would act with (p.366) respect for the gods: νόμῳ πόλεωϛ). No reasonable community would legislate against respect for parents either. Socrates mentions that Athenian written law actually endorses respect for parents in the legal process of dokimasia among the Athenians (Mem. 2.2.13: ‘Don't you know that the polis does not pay attention to other ingratitude or make it subject to legal process, and overlooks those who do not repay the good they receive, but if a man does not care for his parents, it subjects him to legal process and considering him unfit, does not let him hold office…’). No reasonable community would legislate to support incest either. Plato Laws 837e9–838e1 agrees that incest courts universal disfavour among men and gods, and Xenophon's Lycurgus gives natural family respect as another reason for the natural distaste for incest (RL 2.13). As for gratitude, Xenophon credits the Persians with including ingratitude as a technical crime in their code of laws, proving the point that no community would want to endorse its opposite (Cyr. 1.2.7). If Xenophon had wanted to hint at conflict, he could have certainly chosen some more telling examples of unwritten law. Sophocles' Antigone might encourage readers to perceive conflict between written and unwritten law, but Pericles supports the surface argument of Memorabilia 4.4 in his assertion that the Athenians obey the written and the unwritten laws when he describes the Athenians (Thucydides 2.37.3): ‘in obedience to those in positions of authority and the laws, especially those which are for the protection of the oppressed, and those unwritten laws which it is an acknowledged shame to break’.32 His assertion has linguistic echoes of Xenophon's introductory description of Socrates' practice: ‘obeying both rulers and what the laws prescribe’ (4.4.1). Xenophon's other works confirm the benefits attributed to obedience to the written laws in this conversation (4.4.15–17), particularly in serving the common good. For example, Socrates equates justice with the commands of the laws in the dialectic definition of Memorabilia 4.6.6: ‘do you know the things that are called just, the things which the laws order?’ His Pericles defines the written laws in the same way as Socrates does and agrees with him that the purpose of (p.367) the lawful written agreements that the demos have gathered together to approve and write down, which indicate what to do and what not to do, as the Page 26 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies common good (1.2.42) οὔϛ τὸ πλη̑θοϛ συνελθὸν καὶ δοκιμάσαν ἔγραψε ϕράζον ἅ τε δει̑ ποιει̑ν καὶ ἃ μη…τἀγαθὰ νομίσαν δει̑ν ποιει̑ν.33 The common good of obedience to the laws is implied again when Socrates at Memorabilia 4.3.12 describes the power of communication that gods have given us as ‘through which we give mutually and receive a share of all the good things through instruction and set down laws and live in a politeia’: δι' ἠ̑̑ϛ πάντων τω̑ν ἀγαθω̑ν μεταδίδομέν τε ἀλλήλοιϛ διδάσκοντεϛ καὶ κοινωνου̑μεν καὶ νόμουϛ τιθέμεθα καὶ πολιτευόμεθα. Oec. 9.14 has Ischomachus indicate that he taught his wife that in ‘well‐governed poleis’ the citizens do not think it sufficient to write down fine laws, but they elect keepers of the laws (nomophylakes), who praise the one who meets the laws, and punish the one if he transgresses the laws.34 Socrates' special point that Lycurgus made his polis exceptional by requiring obedience to the laws (4.4.15) is endorsed throughout RL as the means whereby they secured their success (e.g. 4.6, 8.1. 8.5; 7.1, 10.7 speak of the lawful practices that result: nomima). Agesilaus 7.2–3 confirms this when it describes Agesilaus as most obedient to the laws and making others so. Xenophon describes the common good as the aim of the education of the laws of the kingdom of Persia too, and insists on obedience to them also as the secret of success: Cyropaedia 1.2.2: ‘Cyrus was educated under the laws νόμοι of the Persians. These laws in looking after the common good του̑ κοινου̑ ἀγαθου̑ ἐπιμελούμενοι do not seem to begin from the same point as in other poleis’. The purpose of what is dictated in the law is to ‘take care so as to make the citizens as good as possible’ (1.2.5). Chrysantas echoes Socrates' paean of praise for obedience to the laws at Mem. 4.4.15–17 when he offers his own paean of praise for obedience to authorities as the cause of success over a range of communities, (p.368) including poleis that are ‘lawfully’ administered (Cyr. 8.1.2). He makes a point of saying that obedience is best in poleis no matter what their constitution is (8.1.4). Cyn. 12.14 and 16 partner the law as a source of improvement with the instruction of individuals: ‘a good education teaches you to obey the laws and to speak and hear good things…Bad people do not obey the laws or good speech’. Xenophon does question the equation that ‘lawfulness was justice’, when he has Cyrus produce a higher justice that served the common good in the dispute about the stolen shirt (Cyr. 1.3.16). This higher justice, as has been shown in a previous chapter, is the consideration that the judges in Xenophon's stories of the unjust acquittal bring to bear against the penalties required by the written laws in the interests of the common good (pp. 212–15). This does not represent the unwritten laws of the gods, however, and would produce an entirely different kind of conflict from that between the unwritten laws of the gods and the written laws of men in Memorabilia 4.4. It is also significant that Xenophon generally endorses the rule that cities who obeyed their laws were the most successful in spite of his awareness of such super‐justice.35

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies Non‐playful Irony in Xenophon: The Recognition Scene Xenophon does have other kinds of irony beyond the Socratic, and these also promote images of virtue in the regular way. We know the scenes in tragedy in which characters come to recognize the identities of others after a period of ironic blindness. These scenes are already in Homer, and pass into the recognition of her brother by Electra.36 There are particular scenes in which characters recognize how a (p.369) pronouncement they understood in one sense turns out to be true in a different sense. Herodotus also has such scenes, for instance when Cambyses recognizes that the oracle that said he would die in Ecbatana did not mean the one in his homeland, but the one in Syria, where he has been wounded and will now die according to the oracle (3.64). There are similar scenes in the failure of his Croesus to recognize the meanings of the Delphic oracle until they come true (1.91). Xenophon writes allied scenes of recognition. The scene in which Panthea tells Cyrus she will not conceal the identity of the man she wishes to go to after her husband Abradatas has died is a good example (Cyr. 7.3.8–16, esp. 12). Cyrus consoles her by promising to give Abradatas the honours in death due to a hero, but then he turns his attention to her future too: ‘You will not be left desolate, but for the sake of your sense and all your virtue, I will honour you in other ways and provide you with one who will take you wherever you wish to go. Just tell me to whom you wish to be taken’. Panthea replies: ‘I will not hide the identity of the man to whom I wish to go’.37 She does not of course hide his identity, but went to that man to whom she wished to go—by committing suicide on the body of her husband and embracing him in death in a full‐blown tragic scene complete with the figure of the nurse (7.3.12–14). The signalling is clear: we have learned in her speech over the body and throughout her story that she is utterly devoted to her husband and we already doubt that there is another man to whom she would willingly go; but we are not quite prepared for the suicide that she then chooses. Cyrus as the immediate audience for the irony should perhaps have doubted the surface of her remarks, but he has other things on his mind and his failure just makes her suicide all the more astonishing for being unanticipated. Her irony buys time to commit the suicide, which Cyrus would have tried to prevent, and it characterizes her determined love of her husband beneath her apparent submission to the idea of another man. Xenophon has Cyrus experience this tragic scene as the reader does when he has him come to the ‘pathos’ and ‘wonder at’ and ‘mourn’ the dead woman for her virtue (7.3.16). There is a similar but less tragic focus on virtue in Cyrus' (p.370) recognition that he has made the Armenian king ‘a better friend than he was before’ (3.1.31). We thought it would be achieved through punishment, but it turns out to be a result of the theory of mercy that he learns from Tigranes.

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies Sometimes Xenophon presents the reader with characters who never reach an awareness of their blindness, such as Cyaxares, who continues to equate the appearance of being worthy of rule with the reality, while the audience perceives his ignorance because they have been shown the reality of worth in Cyrus. At Cyropaedia 8.1.43–4, the Babylonians remain ignorant of what the term ‘father’ really means when used of a leader, while the Persians inform the audience about a father's true qualities. These are sometimes complex ironies too: the Babylonians know that fathers give their children eudaimonia; but they fail to differentiate true eudaimonia from the illusion. Xenophon suggests his own blindness to the wise advice of Socrates about the expedition that was to cause his exile in the kind of wise adviser scene we find in Herodotus in Anabasis 3.1.4–8. He will not have recognized this blindness until he became aware after the end of the expedition that he had been exiled for it (7.7.57). Xenophon's Socrates frequently advises people that on matters where people can secure their own success through education, the future is in their hands, but he advises consultation of Delphi on whether or not their actions will prove good for them in the outcome, because outcomes can never be predicted (Mem. 1.1.6–9). Accordingly in this scene, Socrates is in doubt about Xenophon's desire to join Cyrus the Younger on the grounds that the Athenians may blame him for it, and he wisely advises him to consult the god at Delphi about the outcome. Xenophon carries out the instruction but consults the god only about how he should return safely from the voyage, rather than whether he should go in the first place, as Socrates intended. His version of his younger self here plays the Herodotean foolish king, who ignores the advice of the wise man and thereby brings disaster upon himself. This irony of his ignorance of what his decision has brought about is pervasive throughout Anabasis. But also pervasive is Xenophon's firm commitment thereafter to consult and listen to the gods on future consequences.

(p.371) Conclusion Xenophon's Socratic ironies are clearly signalled through narrator comments and the reactions of internal characters and they regularly present hidden worth beneath apparent unworthiness. They work their levels of meaning in order to enrich ideas as well as characterize the behaviour of the kaloskagathos and explore the learning process. In Symposium and in Cyropaedia Xenophon places irony in the spectrum of humour that we find in Aristotle and offers a literary theory about the instructional value of ironic representation and other forms of light fiction. In Oeconomicus Socrates' irony allows him to model the learning process for Critobulus as well as enrich his ideas about wealth and virtue. Within his narratives conversational ironies like the Socratic ones reveal virtue and enrich themes in the narrative and so do scenes of ironic blindness. Xenophon does use irony to highlight oppression and injustice, but he lightens these darker themes, and the messages are always clearly flagged, never just for the coterie, but for all readers to perceive. His ironies are closed in that they dictate the Page 29 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies direction in which the reader must move, but that does not impoverish their meaning since the path they take opens up vistas in which different readers can focus on different features of the same panorama. Notes:

(1) Strauss (1948/2000), 26 found precedent for his hidden readings in Socratic conversational rhetoric, which he said regularly communicates in an indirect way, leading potential philosophers to enlightenment while denying access to those not fit for philosophy; see also Higgins (1977), 8–15. (2) Most recently on this term see Wolfsdorf (2008). Amory (1981–2) gives a history of the terms and of irony. The eiron at first includes the flatterer as well as the boaster, but Socrates provides a turning point. The pretence and falsehood continue through Plato (Ap. 38a) but take on a playful form (Symp. 215bff.) especially in evading the answer to a question (Crat. 383b–84a). Sophists are still eirons in that they pretend to knowledge, whereas Socrates pretends to ignorance (Soph. 286a). We shall see in the chapter in hand how Xenophon's concept of irony anticipates Aristotle. NE 1124b 26–31 makes a special issue of the magnanimous man, who speaks the truth to his peers, but conceals his views from the crowd because it is vulgar and not in his character. Theophrastus defines εἰρωνεία as ‘a pretence in words and deeds ἐπὶ τὸ χει̑ρον’, which seems to mean to pretend to a worse claim than one has in reality (Amory p. 65). Quintilian Inst. 9.44 differentiates the trope (e.g ‘excellent fellow’ of a rogue) from the figure, which is a constant use of the trope (e.g. Socrates' pretence of ignorance in all matters). (3) Cicero in De Oratore 2.269–70 promotes the same kind of irony as the proper mode for blame in the courtroom: not the abusive laugh at the opponent's expense but the more attractive mixture of playfulness and seriousness (severe ludas: ‘jesting in earnest’) for which Socrates was famous: ‘in this irony and shamming, he far excelled all in grace and in humanity’. He commends this mode in private ‘urbane speech’ as well. (4) Dorion (2006), 95–6 summarizes the differences from the Platonic Socrates, especially point (1) that he is capable of defining the virtues, point (8) that he does not profess ignorance, point (13) that he hardly ever uses elenchus, and point (14) that he is usually predictable. Dorion goes on to emphasize his concern for enkrateia as a major difference. A look through the index of the Companion reveals that slight attention is otherwise given to Xenophon's portrayal. Vlastos (1991), 99–106 studies Xenophon's presentation of Socrates against his understanding of the two Socrateses in Plato's dialogues. He says in his chapter on irony (pp. 21–44) that Xenophon makes Socrates ‘tirelessly didactic, monotonously earnest’ (p. 30), but sometimes has flashes of irony, in the encounter with Theodote in Memorabilia, and in Symposium. Vlastos emphasizes the ‘complex irony’ of Socrates, in which Socrates does not simply Page 30 of 34

 

Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies mislead, but in which his statements are both true and false, but says that these ironies ‘have little doctrinal significance’ in Xenophon (p. 31), which begs their purpose, which is one of the interests in the chapter in hand. The claim to ignorance may indeed be seen as a genuine claim by a philosopher who was never satisfied with the answer in hand, or as a pretence that allowed him to conduct his refutations of others, but that is not a matter for pursuit here. For other accounts of Xenophon's method: Wellman (1976) and Morrison (1994). For a more severe view of Xenophon's shortcomings: Patzer (1997) = Gray (2010). (5) Gray (1998), 61, 63, 74–6. (6) Morrison (1994) makes this conversation a central feature. (7) Nehamas (1998), 72, 95. (8) Symposium has been considered ironic overall because of the later careers of some of the characters (Callias and Charmides, Lycon, who appears to be the later prosecutor of Socrates), but even if that were the case, the positive messages of Socratic ironies about virtue I am dealing with are not affected. Huss (1999a), 398–406 = Gray (2010), 275–9 believes that any subsequent vice in the other characters proves that Socrates was able by his superior character to create a ‘Golden Age’, in which even difficult characters were made mild. (9) Gray (2004c) notes signalling of irony in the Socratic works. (10) Gera (1993), 132–91, and Halliwell (2008), 139–54. Halliwell interprets Symposium in the long tradition of views about sympotic laughter and its tendencies toward the extremes of antagonism or tomfoolery and he sees Xenophon's Socrates negotiating these extremes: ‘Xenophon has done enough to let his readers sense that the dynamics of Socratic conversation and the dynamics of the symposium have been held together, from the outset in fact, in a very delicate balance. Laughter of more than one kind has played a vital part in making that balance possible, as well as threatening to destroy it’ (p. 154). (11) See pp. 119–32. (12) See Halliwell (2008), 307–31 especially his table on p. 322 for Aristotle's spectrum. (13) Huss (1999a) has described this ‘serious laughter of the kaloikagathoi’ and notes the regular juxtapositions of σπουδάζειν alongside παίζειν, σκώπτειν as in the preface and e.g. Symp. 4.28, 8.4. (14) For interest see Crowther (1985). (15) See Gray (1992) for this theme of silence at the party.

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies (16) Gera (1993), 48 notes this characteristic in Antisthenes in her fine discussion of the norms of Xenophon's Socratic conversations in her introduction to Socratic influences on Cyropaedia. (17) Achilles Tatius may sum up this spirit, Leucippe and Clitophon 1.5, that stories of love stir lust, particularly when they come from those who are our superiors. In this case it is the gods that the men are responding to even though they are being played by inferior characters. (18) Gera (1993), 160–8 on this scene, with its very Greek features, in her valuable chapter on the history of the symposium in literature, bringing out the differences and similarities of the Persian party. (19) Xenophon is anticipating Aristotle again in his definition of the boaster the ἀλάζων, NE 1127b–28b9, who pretends to be more than he is, against the eiron, who pretends to be less and is therefore more pleasant. Gera (1993), 162 notes the ‘almost Aristotelian precision’ of Xenophon's definition of the alazon, and it is found again in Memorabilia 1.7: the ἀλάζων pretends to be better than what he is in his own interests and causes great damage to others, for instance if elected to the post of general on the basis of his falsely claimed credentials, and he will also himself become a laughing stock when he is inevitably shown up for what he is. We have other Socratic treatments of the alazon at Mem. 2.6.38. (20) The word is mentioned elsewhere only in Suda and in Photius. Xenophon's language is full of rare words (Gray (2007b)) and they frequently have a very interesting effect. (21) The allusions to literature have been noted by Reichel (1995), 16–18 and Gera (1993), 163, who cites parallels for a similar poetics of laughter and tears in Plato, Ion 535c, 535d–e, and Aristotle Poetics 1449b24ff. The theory of humour is traced in Grant (1924), 23, Arnould (1990), 114, 117, 140f. (22) See my earlier discussion of Xenophon's view of prose writing as a worthy vehicle for serious instruction at pp. 187–93. Bernays (1857) saw the educational and moral dimension to Aristotelian katharsis of the emotions. (23) Gera (1993), 167–8. Gera (1993), 162 notes that Hermogenes presents the same kind of character in Symposium, who is silent when he should be joining in. He is not heard in the subsequent narrative either—because he is no longer necessary. (24) Gera (1993), 166 sees this pair as the stock pair of lovers, a final ‘type’ at the banquet. (25) See Gray (2004c), 382–5.

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies (26) Strauss (1972) questioned Socrates' apparent admiration for the values of Ischomachus, and opposed the values of the philosophic life to those of the estate manager, but it is clear that Socrates does find in Ischomachus' belief instances of general principles that he himself holds dear, so that there is more harmony than difference between their ways of life as philosopher and farmer: Dorion (2008a), Brague (1974a), Danzig (2003). (27) Gera (1993), 39–41, 45 notes the role of analogies in the instructional process, including the notion of inborn knowledge, in her useful review of the norms of Socratic conversation. (28) This swearing to the truth after being accused of playfulness is found elsewhere, when Pheraulas swears to his Sacian friend that he is not joking in offering him his wealth (Cyr. 8.3.46–7). (29) See pp. 114–17. (30) Demetrius On Style 130–5. (31) Dorion (2001): see also de Romilly (1971), 32, 120–7; but the interpretations continue in Johnson (2003). My comments in this section adapt Gray (2004e). (32) Pericles' view of the obedience of the Athenians might be ironized as too ideal a vision of Athenian practice—but not the natural harmony of written and unwritten law. See Loraux (1986), 220–43. (33) Alcibiades argues against Pericles that no laws can command the assent of all the citizens; the laws of a tyrant force all to obey, the laws of oligarchy force the masses to obey, the laws of democracy force the owners of property; but Xenophon is not likely to be championing a view that is out of tune with all his other statements. Alcibiades is besides only a young man, and a corrupt disciple of Socrates. (34) Aristotle also mentions the nomophylax as the enforcer of the rule of law: Politics 1287a. (35) Gera (1993), 74f. recognizes the challenge to the equation in the matter of the tunic but concludes also that the exception does not damage the rule that laws should normally be obeyed. (36) See de Jong (2001) on Odyssey 16.4–219. Aristotle deals with such scenes as the turning point in tragedy (Poetics 16–18, 1454b–1456a). (37) In parallel language Xenophon has Socrates encourage Critobulus ‘not to conceal the identity of those he wishes to have as friends’ (Mem. 2.6.29).

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Xenophon's Socratic and Other Ironies

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Conclusion

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

Conclusion Vivienne J. Gray (Contributor Webpage)

I trust that Xenophon has emerged from this study as a literary artist worth analysing, as an innovator in his adaptations of previous literature, in his engagement with the reader in his overt evaluations, in his creation of his own formulaic scenes, in the theory of viewing and the theory of irony and of allegory, in his development of narrative devices such as the epilogue and in his use of irony, and that these merit complex if not subtle analysis. I hope that it will have become clear that the understanding of narrative devices and literary strategies such as these is vital to the interpretation of his images of power, and that no passage from any one of his works can be read without cross‐reference to passages of similar type in his other works. The images of leadership that emerge are suitable for contemplation by modern democrats because they show an awareness of the problematic aspects of management and offer solutions to them. The introduction mentioned that modern management theorists impose restrictions on the power of leaders because they suspect their potential for autocracy. These restrictions include securing the assent of the group to leadership and aiming at the success the group desires, increasing the skills of the group, making management processes visible to them, avoiding permanent hierarchies, encouraging individual responsibility and initiative, avoiding paternalism and developing a common vision within the group.1 Xenophon's theory of leadership meets these modern requirements. He subjects his leaders to these constraints on a large scale, in requiring them to secure assent to their leadership from the group, while also recognizing the (p.373) need to deal with those who do wrong, in having them aim at the success the group desires, which is defined as their eudaimonia and the leader's, and increase the skills of the group by improving their virtue in the pursuit of that eudaimonia. His constraints make his leaders approximate to the Page 1 of 5

 

Conclusion ‘servant ruler’ of modern management paradigms; they serve in order to achieve the greatest human achievement of successful rule over and care for others.2 Ideally his leaders treat their followers as friends, and followers make the choice of free men to follow because of the leader's knowledge of how to develop their talents and achieve their success as a group, while retaining the right of choosing not to follow if their expectations are not met. The leader uses them as they use him for mutual profit and the measure of the worth of their contribution is the principle of ‘according to ability’ as well as ‘according to worth’. The leader may make a larger contribution to the success of the community, but he could not achieve it without his followers in ancient life any more than in modern life, and so he is as much in their debt as they are in his. In the more violent environment of ancient society he looks to them particularly for protection against his enemies. Modern theory places importance on leadership in times of change,3 and Xenophon is a modernist in this too: he shows how Cyrus found his first need for change when he needed more manpower in the defence of his uncle's kingdom and formed a new united army after his promotion of the Persian commoners. He then turned the Persians into cavalrymen, saw the importance of horsepower, and in the main confrontation with the Assyrians he made technological innovations in chariot and tower design. He acquired his empire with an administration that was suitable for conquest, but he then created the more complex imperial administration of court and satrapies to maintain that success. Xenophon addresses the realities of the limitations on governance by assent perhaps more than modern theory when he acknowledges (p.374) that the leader chooses to win willing obedience but will always need to consider coercion or other indirect methods on those who strive more for their own success than that of the group. He positions himself in the timeless debate about the merits of competition and cooperation as well as the merits of equal opportunity and equal outcomes by holding firmly to the view that equal opportunity and reward for merit is the way forward because it liberates initiative and incentive; competition can be married to cooperation like that of the good strife of potter with potter (Hesiod Works and Days, 25). Xenophon goes beyond other ancient thinkers in having Cyrus eliminate social hierarchies in his promotion of the Persian commoners to equal status with the elite and secure the maintenance of both through the profits of empire. He also innovatively allows women to acquire knowledge of leadership and the access to power that knowledge brings them in their own spheres, and extends this also to slaves. ‘Kings and rulers are not those who held the sceptre, nor those elected by sundry persons nor those who won it in the ballot or used force or deceit, but those who understood how to rule’ (Mem. 3.9.10–11). Xenophon also sees the need for a leader to have an appeal to his public that is like the modern charisma.4 Simonides said that the ruler because of his very position seemed to acquire a kind of charis from the gods that made him look Page 2 of 5

 

Conclusion more beautiful than he was and made his attentions to others more delightful than those they might receive from others (Hiero 8.5–6). This god‐given attraction is like the χάριϛ that Homer has Athena pour on the head of Telemachus as he makes his first public appearance in his father's place: his elders defer to him as he goes and give him the normal marks of honour (Odyssey 2.12–14). In the end though, Xenophon's leaders secure this (p.375) kind of public recognition because of their service to the group: ‘When people think a man capable of benefiting them, and they think they will derive some good from him, then they have this man on their lips for praise. They gaze on him each one as if he were their own good thing, they willingly stand aside for him in the street, and they rise out of their seats, loving him and not fearing him, and they garland him for his virtue and his benefit both, and are willing to give him gifts…’ (Hiero 7.9). There was no harm however in enhancing one's public image. We do not need footnotes to know that it is an asset for a leader to look good and to boast an impressive family tradition—particularly in election campaigns. Socrates says that the Athenians will want to be led by Callias because of his family's priesthood and their military achievements as well as his personal physical strength (Symp. 8.40: ‘You are a Eupatrid, in direct descent from Erechtheus, priest of the gods who campaigned against the barbarian with Iacchus, and now in the feasting you have the most august appearance among your ancestors, and you have a body most splendid to see in the city, able to undergo great toils’). The knowledge of how to rule remained the chief qualification, however: Cyaxares with all his lineage is proof of that. We see the fullest account of how the ruler can enhance his image in Xenophon's Cyrus. His traditions told him that Cyrus was ‘most beautiful’ (1.2.1), but he enhances his public image when he comes out in carefully arranged processions, wearing make‐up, high boots, and glorious costume, and provokes the first show of prostration before him (8.3 passim). He knows that a good cloth and a good cut will conceal imperfections, as well as a bit of make‐up, and that people are impressed by a good showing. These forms of public recognition set rulers apart from their followers, but Xenophon also presents a more democratic charisma, in which the ruler comes down to mingle with ordinary people, not as a contrivance, but as the result of his natural love of mingling. Agesilaus possesses ‘charm’ (τὸ εὔχαρι): ‘in spite of his high honour, in spite of his power and his kingship too, one that was not plotted against but welcomed, a man would never have seen haughtiness in him, but would have detected even without looking for it, the quality of love and service to his friends’ (Ag. 8.1–2). Cyrus possesses a natural love of people (Cyr. 1.2.1: ϕιλανθρωπία) and he shows this same desire to (p.376) mingle at his dinner parties (Cyr. 2.2, 8.4.20–23) and on other occasions too (Cyr. 6.1.1–5: ‘In this way they joked about serious matters with each other’). His lack of ceremony is revealed even in his boyhood when he went in for pursuits where he knew he would not succeed, courted laughter for his failure, and took the lead in Page 3 of 5

 

Conclusion laughing at himself (1.4.4). He continues to show an easiness in looking to the interests of his friends and followers even after his great ceremonial procession in the final book of Cyropaedia, in the episode referred to previously, when he forges the friendship between Pheraulas and the young Sacian who won the horserace by a mile in the ceremonial games (8.3.25–6: a ‘youth’ with no ‘official position’: νεανίσκον, ἰδιώτηϛ ἀνήρ). Cyrus has by now removed his ceremonial costume to compete on horseback himself and he asks the young man whether he would swap his excellent horse for a kingdom; the young man replies that he would not take a kingdom, but would give it to a good man to please him (8.3.26). Cyrus tells him he will easily hit on one such if he throws a clod of earth into a nearby group of Cyrus' friends. The youth shuts his eyes and lets fly. The clod hits Pheraulas, who is racing past on some errand for Cyrus and who does not let the surprising missile stop him but races on, hell‐bent apparently on serving Cyrus (8.3.27–31). When the youth looks up and asks whom he hit, Cyrus tells him it was none of those present; the youth replies that it could hardly have been one of those absent; but Cyrus points out Pheraulas in the distance, and the youth asks why he has not deviated from his course. Cyrus replies: ‘Just a bit mad, I suppose’. We learn that the clod gave Pheraulas a bloody nose. The Sacian becomes the friend to whom he then so willingly delegated the management of his wealth over dinner, in an arrangement that secured their mutual eudaimonia and was the result of Cyrus' continued desire even as king of the world to assist people into friendships of benefit and use (8.3.35–50). Notes:

(1) Gastil (1997), 155–78, esp. p. 158. (2) Williams (2002) examined the leader as servant (187–212). This popular text found a model in Jesus of Nazareth. (3) This is one of the seven competencies for leadership in Alan Hooper and John Potter, The Business of Leadership (Aldershot, 1997), preface and 112: to have a vision and be able to communicate it; act as model; carry out the group's wishes; align people to a vision; bring out the best in people; be an agent for change; lead in crisis. (4) Alan Bryman, Charisma and Leadership in Organizations (London, 1992), 22– 40 in reference to Max Weber distinguishes leadership that rests on rational grounds (it's in my interests), traditional grounds (he was born to be our king), and charisma grounds (he just inspires awe and reverence). He adds the charisma of office and that which arises from the association of the leader with the core values of the community: ‘We may depict the charismatic leader as someone who is viewed as extraordinary and special by followers. These followers allow the charismatic leader to have power over them and they submit

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Conclusion willingly to his or her commands’, p. 41. Xenophon describes these various kinds of charisma to the same end.

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Bibliography

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

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Index Locorum

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

(p.395) Index Locorum Note: I am grateful to Alexandra Djoulai for compiling this index. ACHILLES TATIUS 1.5: 344 ANTISTHENES Caizzi fr. 51–2: 129 n.15 ARISTOPHANES Thesmophoriazousae: 360, 361, Clouds: 343 ARISTOTLE: EN II.7.12=1108a20–26: 331; IV.3=1124b26–31: 331 n.2; IV.7= 1127b‐28b9: 331, 347 n.19; IV.7= 1127b: 331; V.5=1132b32– 1133a5: 301; V.10=1137a31–1138b3: 214; VIII.8.5 =1159b1–19: 303 n.13; VIII.7.1–2 =1158b11–28: 303 n.13; VIII.8.5 = 1159a33–5: 303 n.13; VIII.13.10 =1163a1–23: 309 n.21; VIII.14.4 =1163b12–28: 304 n.15; VIII.7=1158b33–59a3: 304. Poetics 188; 1449b24ff.: 347 n.21; 1454b‐1456a: 368 n.36; 1455a22ff: 183 n.4. Pol. 1252a1–7: 11 n.14; 1281a11: 10 n.12; 1252a8–17: 24 n.27; 1279a22–1282b13: 161 n.63; 1284a3ff,: 24 n.28, 175 n.76; 1287a8ff,: 24 n.28; Page 1 of 31

 

Index Locorum 1287a20–22: 288 n.65, 367 n.34; 1288a15ff,: 24 n.28; 1313a34–1315b10: 177; 1333b22–4: 250. Rhet. 1419b2–9: 331, 337. CICERO Ep. Ad Qu., I.1.23: 55 n.60; I.2.7: 55 n.61 . De finibus V.18: 128 n.14 De oratore II.269–71: 331 n.3 CTESIAS: 261 DEMETRIUS On style 128: 205; 130–5: 361 n.30; 134: 205; 134–5: 117 n.56, 349; 137: 206; 139: 206; 144: 206; 289–90: 160 n.61; 291: 64 n.81 DIOGENES LAERTIUS VP I.71: 229 n.49; II.47: 8; II.48: 8; II.48–59: 5 n.1; III.34: 261 n.22 DIONYSIUS OF HALICARNASSUS Letter to Pompey 5: 76, 82 n.19, 88 n.26 EUSTATHIUS, COMM. AD HOM: 122 n.7, 124 n.11, 128 n.14. HERODOTUS I.5: 111 n.49; I.7.4: 107; I.14.4: 114 n.53; I.17.1: 107; I.29–33: 158; I.29–34: 150; I.30.1: 169; I.32: 160; I.60: 168 n.69; I.61: 196 n.19; I.77: 147; I.80.2: 146; I.80.5: 147; I.86–7: 149; I.87.1: 153; I.88: 150; I.91: 369; I.99: 281; I. 107–130: 145 n.45; I.114: 146; I.114.1: 279; Page 2 of 31

 

Index Locorum I.114.1–3: 78 n.13; I.119: 280; I.134: 203, 280; I.137: 222, 223 n.46, 224; I.155–6: 146; I.177: 114 n.53; I.191: 196 n.19; I.204: 145; I.208: 145; I.209: 146; I.210.2: 145; II.52: 129 n.16; II.80: 289; II.121: 280; III.3.3: 261; III.64: 369; III.80–82: 163; III.80,4: 164; III.80.5: 167; III.89: 145, 173, 326; III.142–3: 168; V.65.1: 107 n.45; VI.86: 217 n.36; VII.136: 280; VII.139: 88 n.26; VII.226: 116; VIII.79–81: 211; VIII.118: 280. (p.396) HESIOD W&D: 190, 305, 130 n.18; line 25: 374 . HOMER Iliad II: 121, 183 n.3; II.24–6: 125 n.12; II.180: 121; II.188: 121; II.210–70: 123; II.243: 125; II.254: 125; II.264: 123; II.335–7: 124 n.10; II.382–393: 125; II.398–401: 134; II.402–40: 134; II.474–83: 125; III.179: 125; III.329–38: 132; III.333: 138; Page 3 of 31

 

Index Locorum IV.163–82: 140 n.31; IV.223–418: 142; IV.231–49: 121 n.6; IV.255–71: 126; IV.272: 142; IV.326: 142; IV.473–89: 77; V.541–60: 77 n.12; V. 719ff.: 140 n.35; V.722–32: 136 n.26; VI.326–7: 142; VI.390–465: 139; VIII.381ff.: 140 n.35; IX.96–102: 125 n.12; IX.433ff.: 143 n.38; XI.15–44: 132; XVI.130–54: 132; XIX.349–424: 132, 133, 136; XIX.258–65: 140 n.32; XIX.282–300: 140; XIX.282–304: 140; XIX.350–362: 136; XXIII.323: 124 n.10; XXIII.324: 124 n.10; XXIII.335–7: 124 n.10; XXIV.676: 140 n.32 Odyssey II.12–14: 374; VIII.171–2: 129; X.203–482: 126; XII.45–6: 127, 24–244; XII.184–191: 128; XII.256: 128; XVI.4–219: 368 n.36. ISOCRATES Areopag. (VII) 21–2: 285 n.61; 40: 289; 79–81: 254 n.13 Panath. (XII), 200 to end: 64. n.81. Paneg. (IV), 28–33: 108 Ad Nic. (II), 4–5: 163; 14–15: 285 n.6 Peace (VIII) 95–103: 254 n.13 LUCIAN De hist conscr., 38: 87 n.26–27; 40: 87 n.26 LYSIAS Ag. Erat. (XII) 62–78: 117 n.57 PLATO Page 4 of 31

 

Index Locorum Alc. I 105c: 262 n.24 Ap. 38a: 331 n.2 Crat. 129n.17; 383b‐84a: 331 n.2. Ep. II 310e5–311b6: 158; 320d7: 262 n.24; VII 332d: 160 n.61 Gorg. 473a: 361 Hipp. Mai. 286a‐b: 158 n.60 Leg. 693–5: 260; 695d‐e: 262 n.24; 837e9–838e1: 366 Menex. 239d6: 262 n.24 Phaed. 262b: 129 n.15 Prot. 339a‐347a: 170 n.71 Rep. 331e‐334b: 170 n.71; 378d: 120; 556b: 168 n.70; 566d‐568a: 164; 567a: 164; 567d: 168; 568a‐b: 158; 576a: 164; 576a: 175; 577b: 158; 577b: 163; 579b‐c: 166; 579d: 166; 580a: 164 Ion 541b‐c: 124 n.10; 535c, 535d‐e: 347 n.21. Soph. 286a: 331 n.2 Symp. 215b: 331 n.2 PLUTARCH Ages.: 213, 243 Mor. 345e: 40; 855–6b: 63 POLYBIUS HIST. XII.13–15: 88 n.26 QUINTILIAN Inst. IX.44: 331 n.2 SOPHOCLES Ant.: 366 STOBAEUS IV.8: 164 n.67 THEOGNIS: 130 THEOPOMPUS Jacoby FGH, Fr. 121: 63, 76 THUCYDIDES I.1: 40 n.40; Page 5 of 31

 

Index Locorum I.71.3: 257; I.95.7: 254; I.130.1: 254 n.12; I.130.2: 254 n.12; I.132.2: 254; II.37.3: 366; II.48.3: 40 n.40; II.65: 75; III.82: 76; III.82.4: 76; IV.104–6: 40 n.40; V.26.5–6: 40 n.40; VI.54–9: 211; VII.29–30: 111 n.49; VII.86.5: 75 n.7; (p.397) VIII.1–4: 211; VIII.68.4: 117 n.57; VIII.68, 89–94: 117 n.57. XENOPHON Ag. I‐II: 30. 71; I.1: 30; I.2–3: 238; I.20–22: 32; I.22: 28, 174, 329; I.37–8: 327; I.38: 31, 176 n.77; II.7: 82; II.14: 190 n.11; II.16: 301; II.19: 98; III‐IX: 30; III‐XI: 75; III.1: 30; IV.1–6: 80; V: 242; V.4: 83, 216; V.4–7: 203; V.5: 234 n.51; V.6–7: 85; VI.1: 98; VI.4: 31, 194, 298, 329; VI.6: 80, 93; VII: 104; VII.1: 31; VII.2–3: 367; VII.3: 32, 176 n.77, 226, 226 n.48, 254 n.11, 327; VIII: 115, 339; VIII.1: 207, 236; Page 6 of 31

 

Index Locorum VIII.1–2: 375; VIII.2: 106, 355; VIII.4–5: 30; VIII.7: 208; IX.3: 30; IX.6: 30, 91; IX.6–7: 170; X.2: 30; X.2: 30, 52; X.2–3: 70; XI.3:76; XI.4: 72; XI.9: 298; XI.16: 30 An. I.2.27: 206; I.3: 143 n.38; I.3.13: 281; I.5.8: 37, 43, 94 n.33, 99, 181, 236; I.5.11–16: 78 n.14; I.6: 43, 73, 222, 258; I.6.6: 222; I.6.7: 222; I.6.10: 280; I.6.11: 195; I.7.20: 201; I.8.1: 200; I.8.1–6: 201; I.8.3: 135; I.8.4–5: 135; I.8.6: 125, 202; I.8.21: 280; 280 n.54; I.8.27: 202; I.8.28–9: 143, 209; I.8.29: 195; I.9: 38; I.9.1: 71, 74, 101; I.9.2: 74; I.9.3–5: 255; I.9.5: 77, 301; I.9.6: 78; I.9.10: 296; I.9.11: 221 n.41; I.9.11–13: 72, 288; I.9.12: 38; I.9.13: 38, 278; I.9.15–19: 72; I.9.16–17: 13; I.9.19: 76; I.9.20: 74; Page 7 of 31

 

Index Locorum I.9.20–28: 73; I.9.22: 329; I.9.23: 74, I  33, 181 ; I.9.24: 73, 91, 295, 296, 315; I.9.28: 296; I.9.28–9: 72; I.9.28–30: 38; I.10.1: 77 ‐II. 3. 10ff.: 182; II. 3. 11: 236; ‐ II. 5: 247; ‐ II. 6: 168; II. 6, 22: 74; II. 6: 38, 255, 258, 278; II. 6. 1: 74, 75; II. 6. 1–15: 254 n.11; II. 6. 6–7: 74; II. 6. 7: 75; II. 6. 8: 75; II. 6. 11: 75; II. 6. 12: 38; II. 6, 15: 75, 301; II. 6. 16–17: 54; II. 6. 19–20: 39; II. 6. 20: 39, 278; II. 6. 21–27: 39; II. 6. 26–27: 76; II. 6. 29: 75 ‐III. 1: 5 n.1; III. 1. 4: 143 n.38; III. 1. 4–8: 370; III. 1. 4–10: 40 n.40; III. 1. 31: 206; ‐ III. 2. 25: 144; ‐ III. 4. 46–49: 40; III. 4. 47–49: 184 ‐IV. 3. 10–13: 40; ‐ IV. 4. 12: 40; IV. 4. 12: 185; ‐ IV. 6. 1–3: 41; IV. 6. 2–3: 363; IV. 6. 14–16: 41, 362 ‐V. 1. 2: 144; ‐ V. 3: 5 n.1; ‐ V. 8: 72, 123, 348; V. 8. 13: 41; V. 8. 16: 42; Page 8 of 31

 

Index Locorum V.8. 18–26: 278; V. 8. 18: 42; V. 8. 18–20: 348; V. 8. 21: 185; V. 8. 25–6: 42 ‐VI. 1. 26–8: 254 n.11; ‐ VI. 6. 12: 254 n.11 ‐VII. 1. 26–7: 254 n.11; VII. 3. 30–31: 300; ‐ VII. 3. 44–6: 185; ‐ VII. 4. 7–42: 26; VII. 4. 7–11: 209, 228; ‐ VII. 6. 4: 42; VII. 6. 39: 42; VII. 6. 41: 281; ‐ VII. 7. 36: 42; VII. 7. 41–42: 42; VII. 7. 57: 370 Ap. Soc. 16: 158; 27–8: 116; 28: 360 Cyn. XII‐XIII: 19; XII, 14: 368; XII, 16: 368 Cyr. I. 1.2: 50; I. 1–3: 287; I. 1. 1: 193; I. 1. 3: 26; I. 1. 4: 26; I. 1.5: 29, 277; ‐ I. 2: 10, 20, 260, 264, 283; I. 2–5: 27; I. 2. 1: 21, 25, 29, 73, 144, 321, 355, 374–5; I. 2. 2: 367; I. 2. 2–14: 20; I. 2. 5: 367; I. 2. 7: 294 n.4, 366; I. 2. 9: 300; I. 2. 10–11: 19; I. 2. 11: 256 n. 15; I. 2. 12: 299; I. 2. 13: 299; I. 2. 16: 256 n.15 (x2), 257; I. 2. 49–55: 221; I. 3–4: 78 n.13, 146; I. 3. 1: 104; I. 3. 2: 259; Page 9 of 31

 

Index Locorum I. 3. 3: 237 n.53; I. 3. 11: 281; I. 3. 15: 104; I. 3. 16: 368; I. 3. 16–17: 214; I. 4: 261; I. 4. 4: 376; I. 4. 6: 281, 286 n. 7; I. 4. 12–15: 228; I. 4. 15: 231; I. 4. 25: 296 n.7; I. 4. 25–26: 204; I. 4. 27–28: 78 n.13, 84 n. 22, 203, 204, 268 n. 32, 271 n.38, 296 n.7; I. 5: 36; I. 5. 1: 104; I. 5. 3: 258 n.17; I. 5. 9: 265; ‐ I. 6: 20, 27, 89, 362; I. 6. 7: 1, 12 n.16, 27, 53 n.59, 302, 321; I. 6. 9: 266, 272; I. 6. 9–11: 90; I. 6. 12–14: 333; I. 6. 15: 36; I. 6. 16–18: 21; I. 6. 19: 281; I. 6. 20: 301; I. 6. 20–21: 100 n.40; I. 6. 20–22: 36; I. 6. 21: 45; I. 6. 21–22: 27, 104; I. 6. 23: 263 n.27 (x2); I. 6. 24: 28, 294; (p.398) I. 6. 25: 28, 266, 322; I. 6. 26: 27, 184 n.5; I. 6. 26ff: 90; I. 6. 26: 302; I. 6. 27: 266; I. 6. 31–2: 266; I. 6. 32: 266; I. 6. 39–40: 19; I. 6. 45: 300; I. 6. 46: 263 n.27 (x2) ‐II. 1. 1–19: 284; II. 1. 8: 284; II. 1. 14: 284; II. 1. 19: 284; II. 1. 20–31: 284; II. 2: 205, 337, 345, 376; II. 2–3: 22, 150; II. 2. 1: 345; II. 2. 1–31: 284; Page 10 of 31

 

Index Locorum II. 2. 5: 346; II. 2. 10: 346; II. 2. 11: 345, 346; II. 2. 12: 347; II. 2. 14: 347; II. 2. 17: 285; II. 2. 18ff: 284; II. 2. 20: 286; II. 2. 22–27: 278; II. 2. 25: 236; II. 2. 28: 134 n.23, 350; II. 2. 28–31: 189; II. 3: 17, 175; II. 3. 1: 286, 345; II. 3. 1–16: 284; II. 3. 5: 286; II. 3. 7: 285; II. 3. 7–16: 285; II. 3. 7ff: 286; II. 3. 12: 322; II. 3. 15: 327; II. 3. 16: 286, 322; II. 4: 237 n.53; cf II. 4. 1–4: 72, 134. 350; II. 4. 5: 237 n.53; II. 4. 6: 134, 272; II. 4. 14: 219; II. 4. 19: 280 ‐III. 1: 43; III. 1. 7: 225; III. 1. 9: 220; III. 1. 9–12: 220; III. 1. 13: 220; III. 1. 14: 220; III. 1. 14–30: 20; III. 1. 15–30: 221; III. 1. 31: 219, 370; III. 1. 38: 263 n.27; III. 1. 38–40: 227; III. 1. 40: 222; III. 1. 42: 221; III. 2. 14: 221; III. 3. 10: 320, 320 n.27; III. 3. 20: 272; III. 3. 25: 272; III. 3. 33: 272; III. 3. 38: 12 n.16; III. 3. 44–45: 184 n.5; III. 3. 50–55: 184 n.5; Page 11 of 31

 

Index Locorum III. 3. 56: 272; III. 3. 59: 184 n.5; III. 3. 62–3: 184 n.5; III. 3. 70: 185 ‐IV.1–2: 296 n.7; IV. 1. 4: 301; IV. 1. 14–17: 270; IV. 1. 22: 271 n.38; IV. 1. 23: 190; IV. 2. 9: 272; IV. 2. 9–11: 234, 239, 271; IV. 2. 42–5: 323; IV. 2. 44: 324; IV. 3. 22: 250; IV.3.23: 256 n.15; IV. 4. 1–3: 356; IV. 4. 2–3: 106; IV. 4. 13: 280; IV. 5. 8ff: 272; IV. 5. 8–9: 239, 241, 272; IV. 5. 8–12: 239; IV. 5. 8–34: 234; IV. 5. 9–12: 272 n.39; IV. 5. 13: 273; IV. 5. 18: 273; IV. 5. 18–19: 272 n.39; IV. 5, 19: 273; IV. 5. 20: 273; IV. 5. 21: 273; IV. 5. 22: 273 (x2); IV. 5. 32: 274; IV. 5. 38ff: 324; IV. 5. 51–52: 139 n.30; IV. 5. 51–55: 324; IV. 6. 11: 89, 324. ‐V. 1. 1: 250; V. 1. 6–7: 153; V. 1. 9–18: 85; V. 1. 17: 216; V. 1. 18: 216; V. 1. 23: 268 n.32; V. 1. 24: 21; V. 1. 28: 325; V. 2. 11: 104; V. 2. 17: 256 n.15; V. 2. 18: 345, 356; V. 2. 28: 282; V. 3: 282; V. 3. 19: 280; Page 12 of 31

 

Index Locorum V. 4. 11: 190; V. 5. 5ff: 232; V. 5. 6: 84 n.22. 234; V. 5. 8–10: 237; V. 5. 9: 236, 237; V. 5. 11–12: 274; V. 5. 20: 239; V. 5. 21: 239; V. 5. 24; 239; V. 5. 25: 239; V. 5. 28–32: 276; V. 5. 28–34: 239; V. 5. 33: 276; V. 5. 35: 240; V. 5. 36: 240; V. 5. 38–9: 241; V. 5. 39: 275 n.45, 281; V. 5. 40: 241, 275; V. 5. 41–4: 241 ‐VI. 1. 1–6: 167, 275 n.45, 376; VI. 1. 6: 241; VI. 1. 9: 204; VI. 1. 19–21: 275; VI. 1. 27–30: 136, 259 n.20; VI. 1. 28: 147; VI. 1. 30: 147; VI. 1. 31–9: 140 n.32, 215; VI. 1.31–40: 43; VI. 1. 37: 213 n.31; VI. 1. 39–44: 218; VI. 1. 45–9: 300; VI. 1. 46: 136 n.26; VI. 1. 50–55: 136; VI. 2. 7–8: 136; VI. 2. 18: 147; VI. 3. 14–16: 219; VI. 3. 26–37: 142; VI. 3. 33: 147; VI. 4: 156 n.54; VI. 4. 1: 136; VI. 4. 2–9: 136; VI. 4. 2: 138; VI. 4. 4: 104; VI. 4. 6: 237; VI. 4. 12–20: 134; VI. 4, 16: 136 ‐VII. 1. 1: 134; VII. 1. 2: 133; VII. 1. 10–22: 142; Page 13 of 31

 

Index Locorum VII. 1. 27: 147; VII. 1. 29–35: 147; VII. 1. 30: 141, 147, 194; VII. 1. 30–41: 147; VII. 1. 32: 194; VII. 1. 37–38: 193, 317; VII. 1. 37–40: 147; VII. 1. 38: 153; VII. 1. 41: 148 (x2); VII. 1. 41–2: 104; VII. 1. 43: 300; VII. 1. 44–5: 300; VII. 1. 46–48: 147; VII. 2: 17, 149; VII. 2. 5: 152; VII. 2. 9: 280; VII. 2. 10: 150; VII. 2. 11: 150; VII. 2. 17: 155 n.57; VII. 2. 21: 154; VII. 2. 22: 151 n.48; VII. 2. 23: 154; VII. 2. 24: 151; VII. 2. 27: 154; VII. 2. 29: 151, 157; VII. 3: 156 n.54; VII. 3. 2–16: 139; VII. 3. 8–16: 195 n.19, 369; VII. 3. 12: 369; VII. 3. 12–14: 369; VII. 3. 15: 282; VII. 3. 16: 369; VII. 4. 14: 146, 278; VII. 5. 1: 328; VII. 5. 32: 280 (x2); VII. 5. 37–56: 281; VII. 5. 56: 236, 263 n.27; VII. 5. 59–65: 282; VII. 5. 62: 261; VII. 5. 71: 328; VII. 5. 72: 329 n.33; VII. 5. 72–86: 148, 326; VII. 5. 75: 148; VII. 5. 76: 263 n.27; VII. 5, 78: 326; VII. 5. 79: 326; (p.399) VII. 5. 83: 104 n.41, 243, 252; VII. 5. 85: 264; VII. 5. 85–86: 326; Page 14 of 31

 

Index Locorum VII. 5. 86: 260; VII. 6. 38: 326; VII. 8. 1: 319 ‐VIII.1–2: 375; VIII. 1. 1: 325; VIII. 1. 1–6: 300; VII. 1. 2: 368; VIII. 1. 4: 29, 367; VIII. 1. 6: 257, 281; VIII. 1. 7: 256 n.15; VIII. 1. 7–8: 257; VIII. 1. 10–11: 300; VIII. 1. 14: 257; VIII. 1. 16: 12 n.16; VIII. 1. 16–20: 282, 320; VIII. 1. 17–20: 231; VIII. 1. 21–22: 288; VIII. 1. 21–39: 20, 53; VIII. 1. 22: 12 n.16; VIII. 1. 23–4: 259 n.20; VIII. 1. 24: 48; VIII. 1. 24–25: 258 n.17; VIII. 1. 25: 258 n.17; VIII. 1. 29: 258 n.17; VIII. 1. 33: 282, 320; VIII. 1. 33–34: 11 n.13; VIII. 1. 34–38: 19; VIII. 1. 34–6: 256 n.15; VIII. 1. 36: 258 n.15; VIII. 1. 37–8: 259 n.18; VIII. 1. 39: 322; VIII. 1. 40–42: 277; VIII. 1, 43: 362; VIII. 1. 43–44: 282, 283, 370; VIII. 1. 44: 282, 314 n.24, 326; VIII. 1. 45–58: 279, 317 (x2); VIII. 1. 45 – VIII. 2: 296 n.7; VIII. 1. 47 – VIII. 2: 165; VIII. 2: 232, 322; VIII. 2–6: 276; VIII. 2. 1: 317, 321; VIII. 2. 2: 258 n.17, 315; VIII.2.2–6: 322; VIII. 2. 9: 176 n.77, 258 n.17, 325; VIII. 2. 10–12: 279; VIII. 2. 13: 72, 91, 236 n.52, 295, 296. 315, 323; VIII. 2. 14: 27, 47, 299, 323; VIII. 2. 15: 323; VIII. 2. 15–19: 322; Page 15 of 31

 

Index Locorum VIII. 2. 15–23: 151, 170, 287; VIII. 2. 20: 323; VIII. 2. 20–22: 324; VIII. 2. 22: 162, 295, 317. 323, 328; VIII. 2. 24–25: 302; VIII. 2. 26: 319 (x2), 320 n.27; VIII. 2. 28: 319; VIII. 3: 375; VIII. 3. 2: 286; VIII. 3. 4: 72, 133, 237 n.53; VIII. 3. 5–8: 286; VIII. 3. 6: 286; VIII. 3. 14: 280, 280 n.53; VIII. 3. 25–6: 376; VIII. 3. 26: 286, 376; VIII. 3. 27–31: 376; VIII. 3. 28: 329 n.33; VIII. 3. 35–50: 322, 376; VIII. 3. 38: 287; VIII. 3. 45: 287; VIII. 3. 46–7: 359; VIII. 3. 48: 287; VIII. 3. 49: 287; VIII. 3. 49–50: 287; VIII. 3. 50: 287; VIII. 4. 5: 258 n.17 (x2); VIII. 4. 13: 242; VIII. 4. 20–23: 376; VIII. 4. 22–3: 343; VIII. 4. 27: 280; VIII. 4. 29–30: 324; VIII. 4. 31: 325 (x2); VIII. 4. 32–35: 325; VIII. 5: 321; VIII. 5. 5: 257; VIII. 5. 17–20: 241, 275, 275 n.47; VIII. 5. 19: 50 n.56; VIII. 5. 21: 264; VIII. 5. 21–7: 259; VIII. 5. 23: 27, 286, 314 n.24, 322; VIII. 5. 23–24: 323; VIII. 5. 25: 264; VIII. 6. 10: 260; VIII. 6. 13: 28, 174; VIII. 6. 23: 29, 145, 278, 328; ‐ VIII. 7: 146; VIII. 7. 2: 146; VIII. 7. 3: 146; VIII. 7. 5–6: 329 n.33; Page 16 of 31

 

Index Locorum VIII. 7. 7: 146; VIII. 7. 7–8: 27; VIII. 7. 10: 260; VIII. 7. 10ff: 260; VIII. 7. 11: 155; VIII. 7. 12: 155, 321; VIII. 7. 13–14: 260; VIII. 7. 14–16: 260, 304; ‐ VIII. 8: 75. 246; VIII. 8. 1–2: 246; VIII. 8. 3: 225; VIII. 8. 2–5: 258 n.17; VIII. 8. 4: 249; VIII. 8. 5: 37; VIII. 8. 11: 258; VIII. 8. 4: 258; VIII. 8. 5: 255; VIII. 8. 6: 258 n.17; VIII. 8. 8: 256 n.15. 258; VIII. 8. 9: 256 n.15; VIII. 8. 9–10: 258; VIII. 8. 10: 256 n.15; VIII. 8. 12: 256 n.15 (x3), 258; VIII. 8. 13: 255, 258 n.17, 259; VIII. 8. 14: 256; VIII. 8. 15: 259; VIII. 8. 16–19: 277; VIII. 8.27: 268 n.32 Equ. II. 3: 48 Hell. I. 1. 27–31: 88 n.28; I. 1. 31: 100, 100 n.40; I. 5. 3: 138; I. 6. 6–11: 281; I. 6. 36–37: 198; I. 7: 117 n.57 ‐II. 2. 10–23: 117 n.56; II. 2. 24: 171 n.72; II. 3. 5: 171 n.72; II. 3. 11–56: 114; II. 3. 15: 114; II. 3. 37: 114; II. 3. 37–43: 117, 361; II. 3. 48: 284 n.57; II. 3. 52–53: 116; II. 3. 55: 116; II. 3. 56: 81 n.17, 114, 360; II. 4 : 56 n.63 117; II. 4. 22–24: 108; Page 17 of 31

 

Index Locorum II. 4. 40–42: 104 n.41, 243, 284 n.58 ‐III. 1. 1–2: 39 n.40; III. 1. 8: 100 n.40, 102; III. 1. 28: 315 n.24; ‐ III. 2. 7: 103, 105; III. 2. 28: 21 n.22; III. 4: 255; III. 4. 1–2: 234; III.4.5–11: 255; III. 4. 7–10: 232; III. 4. 7–11: 44; III. 4. 16–19: 99; III. 4. 29: 79; III. 5. 16–19: 104, 189 ‐IV. 1.3–4: 255; IV. 1. 3–14: 242; IV. 1. 21: 102; IV. 1. 29: 236; IV. 1. 29–41: 232; IV. 1. 36: 240; IV. 1. 39–40: 207; IV. 1. 40: 229; IV. 2. 1–5: 88 n.28; IV. 2. 3: 88 n.28; IV. 2. 5: 175; IV. 3. 2: 254 n.11; (p.400) IV. 3. 2–3: 198; IV. 3. 10–14: 198; IV. 3. 12: 82; IV. 3. 15–19: 82; IV. 3. 19: 98; IV. 4. 10: 117; IV. 4. 12: 190; IV. 4. 19: 87, 89 n.29; IV. 5. 3–6: 200; IV. 5. 4: 97; IV. 5. 6: 190, 236; IV. 5. 7: 200 (x2); IV. 5. 7ff: 200; IV. 5. 8: 125; IV. 5. 9: 190, 201; IV. 5. 10: 197, 201; IV. 5. 13: 107; IV. 5. 13–17: 87; IV. 5. 18: 190, 201; IV. 8. 1: 81 n.17, 113; IV. 8. 3–5: 254 n.11; IV. 8. 4: 113; IV. 8. 9–11: 89; Page 18 of 31

 

Index Locorum IV. 8. 12–15: 114; IV. 8. 22: 79, 254 n.11; IV. 8. 24: 254 n.11; IV. 8. 26: 104; IV. 8. 27: 67; IV. 8. 31: 75, 104; IV. 8. 38–9: 117, 209 ‐V. 1. 4: 47, 57, 58, 81 n.17, 90, 173, 181, 193; V. 1. 10–13: 103; V. 1. 13: 89; V. 1. 14–17: 99; V. 1. 19–24: 90; V. 1. 20: 90; V. 1. 21–4: 90; V. 1. 24: 90; V. 2. 25–32: 254 n.11; V. 2. 28: 79, 102, 115; V. 2. 37 – V. 3. 7: 254 n.11; V. 3. 5–7: 92; V. 3. 7: 98 n.37, 238; V. 3. 20: 263; V. 3. 22: 100, 100 n.40; V. 4. 1: 60, 92, 254 n.11; V. 4. 2: 143 n.39, 210 n.29; V. 4. 14: 103; V. 4. 20: 254 n.11; V. 4. 20–21: 212; V. 4. 22: 107; V. 4. 22–23: 212; V. 4. 24: 224; V. 4. 25: 143 n.39, 210 n.29, 224, 227; V. 4. 25ff: 78 n.13; V. 4. 25–34: 43; V. 4. 25–33: 42; V. 4. 27: 138, 225; V. 4. 28: 226; V. 4. 31: 196 n.19, 227; V. 4. 32: 254 n.11; V. 4. 33: 228; V. 4. 34: 212; V. 4. 51: 97 n.36; V. 4. 54: 103; V. 4. 61: 103 ‐VI. 1. 2: 79, 102; VI. 1. 2–3: 54; VI. 1. 4: 109 n.47; VI. 1. 6: 80; VI. 1. 15: 80, 93; VI. 2. 4: 171 n.72; Page 19 of 31

 

Index Locorum VI. 2. 13: 93; VI. 2. 27ff: 93; VI. 2. 32: 93; VI. 2. 33: 171 n.72; VI. 2. 34–6: 94 (x2); VI. 2. 39: 91, 103, 115; VI. 3. 3–6: 105; VI. 3. 7: 100 n.40, 102; VI. 3. 18: 110; VI. 4. 8: 107 n.45; VI. 4. 14: 228; VI. 4. 16: 197; VI. 4. 37: 200; VI. 5. 38–48: 101; VI. 5. 38: 54; VI. 5. 44: 111 n.50; VI. 5. 49: 96; VI. 5. 51: 227; VI. 5. 51–2: 95 (x2); VI. 5. 52: 96 ‐VII. 1–3 : 111–3; VII. 1. 8: 254 n.11; VII. 1. 17–18: 96 n.35; VII. 1. 20: 171 n.72; VII. 1. 22: 171 n.72; VII. 1. 32: 138, 202; VII. 1. 44: 113; VII. 2: 101; VII. 2.2–3: 111; VII. 2. 1: 81 n.17, 111, 296 n.6; VII. 2. 2: 112; VII. 2. 9: 138, 202; VII. 2. 16: 112; VII. 2. 17: 112; VII. 3. 1: 112; VII. 3. 2: 113; VII. 3. 4–5: 113; VII. 4. 6–8: 148; VII. 4. 8: 221 n.41; VII. 4. 19: 102; VII. 4. 30: 100; VII. 4. 32: 99; VII. 5. 8: 96; VII. 5. 19: 181; VII. 5. 18–9: 96 Hiero, I‐VII: 161; I. 10–11: 188; I. 11–13: 166; Page 20 of 31

 

Index Locorum I. 14–15: 167, 174, 361; I. 22–23: 126; I. 26–38: 174, 208; I. 29: 166; I. 33: 84 n.21; I. 35: 206; I. 36: 209; I. 37: 166; ‐ II. 1–2: 169; II. 3–5: 82, 162; II. 8: 166, 168, 316; II. 10: 316; II. 11: 166; II. 13: 166; II. 15: 13, 172 n.74; II. 17: 15; III – IV: 175; III. 1–2: 174, 297; III. 6–9: 209, 316; IV. 2: 316; IV. 5: 316; IV. 6–8: 170; IV. 8–10: 169, 352; IV. 9: 166; IV. 10: 166, 174; IV. 11: 166; V. 1–2: 15, 164, 171, 176; V. 2: 172 n.74; V. 2: 316; V. 3: 166; VI. 4: 316; VI. 4–5: 173; VI. 5: 166, 176; VI. 10–11: 168, 316; VI. 14–16: 15, 164, 316; VI. 15: 166; VI. 15–16: 48; ‐ VII. 5–7: 174; VII. 9: 302, 375; VII. 9–10: 167; VII. 10–12: 168; VII. 12: 175; VII. 13: 161, 172; ‐ VIII. 1: 34, 296; VIII. 1–2: 161; VIII. 3: 91, 302; VIII. 4: 21; VIII. 5–6: 374; VIII. 9: 166 (x3); Page 21 of 31

 

Index Locorum VIII. 10: 166; ‐ IX: 37; IX. 1: 166; IX. 2: 166; IX. 3: 166 (x3); IX. 4: 166; IX. 5–9: 14; IX. 6: 375; IX. 6–10: 165; IX. 9–10: 165; IX. 10: 166; IX. 11: 313; IX‐XI: 173; ‐X. 1: 39, 278; X. 1–3: 168; X. 2: 48; X. 2–8: 168; ‐XI. 2: 355; XI. 3: 72, 133; XI. 4: 173; XI. 5: 23 n.25; XI. 5–7: 14, 170; XI. 7: 92; XI. 7–9: 189; XI. 8: 167; XI. 8–9: 329; XI. 9–10: 166; XI. 10: 313; XI. 11: 167, 208; XI. 11–12: 297; XI. 12: 188, 313, 316; XI. 12–13: 322; XI. 13: 14, 170, 297; XI. 14: 72, 176 Hipp. I. 7: 35; I. 10–15: 35; I. 17: 12, 35; I. 24: 35; I. 26: 35, 312; VI. 1: 24; VI. 1–4: 36; VI. 2: 47; VI. 4: 45; VIII. 9–11: 96; IX. 6: 286 (p.401) RL I: 32, 248; I. 9: 304; Page 22 of 31

 

Index Locorum I – X: 10, 248; II‐IV: 78 n.13; II. 6–8: 362; II. 10–12: 85 n.24; II. 12–14: 213 n.31; II. 13: 366; IV: 175, 320; IV. 6: 367; VI. 2: 301; VII. 1: 367; VII. 10: 367; VIII. 1: 99 n.38, 256, 367; VIII. 1–2: 33, 53; VIII. 3–4: 33, 288; VIII. 5: 33, 173 (x2), 367; VIII. 5: 33; IX. 1: 33; X. 1: 21 (x2); X. 4: 33; X. 4–7: 248; X. 7: 367; X. 8: 52; XI – XIII: 248; XI. 1: 173; XI‐XIII: 33; XIII. 8: 173; XIII. 11: 203; XIV: 33, 58, 59, 75, 249; XIV. 6: 249, 254 n.13; XV: 33, 248, 249 (x2) Mem. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I.

1: 84 n.23; 1.1‐I. 2. 64: 8; 1. 6–9: 142, 370; 1. 6–10: 356; 1. 7–9: 263 n.27; 1. 8: 23 n.25; 1. 16: 11; 1. 17: 84 n.23; 2. 1–8: 52; 2. 2: 30; 2. 3: 52; 2. 12–48: 251; 2. 18: 251; 2. 19: 251; 2. 19–23: 149, 251; 2. 20: 130; 2. 21: 251; 2. 24: 156, 251;

Page 23 of 31

 

Index Locorum I. 2. 24–25: 251, 253; I. 2. 27: 253; I. 2. 29–38: 362; I. 2. 32: 15, 23 n.25, 48; I. 2. 39: 65 n.83; I. 2. 40: 23 n.25; I. 2. 42: 366; I. 2. 48: 6, 53, 165, 299, 302; I. 2. 49–56: 221; I. 2. 51ff: 326; I. 2. 55: 328; I. 2. 56: 122, 130; I. 2. 58–59: 121; I. 2. 58–60: 313; I. 2. 59: 122; I. 2. 61: 12 n.16; I. 2. 64: 122; I. 3. 1: 19. 52, 353, 365; I. 3. 1‐end: 8; I. 3. 3: 305; I. 3. 4: 86; I. 3. 6: 126; I. 3. 7: 126, 336; I. 3. 7–8: 120; I. 3. 8–14: 8, 83, 218; I. 3. 8–15: 85, 204; I. 3. 9–15: 336; I. 3. 14: 336; I. 4: 305 (x2); I. 4. 1: 12 n.16, 332; I. 4. 9–10: 309; I. 4. 18: 305; I. 5: 332; I. 6–9: 142; I, 7: 104, 107, 139, 347 n.19; I. 7. 1: 52 ‐II. 1: 153, 160 n.62; II. 1. 1ff; 47; II. 1. 1–7: 10, 283; II. 1. 4–5: 83, 204; II. 1. 8–9: 47; II. 1. 17–19: 47; II. 1. 18–19: 266; II. 1. 19: 284; II. 1. 20: 106, 136; II. 1. 21: 120; II. 1. 21–34: 131; II. 1. 31: 106; II. 1. 33: 106, 305; Page 24 of 31

 

Index Locorum II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II. II.

2: 18, 292; 2–10: 292; 2. 3–5: 326; 2. 3–6: 176 n.76, 292, 293; 2. 5–6: 306; 2. 9–10: 176 n.77, 292; 2. 13: 292, 366; 2. 17–19: 327; 3: 61, 260, 292 (x2), 301; 3. 1–4: 301; 3. 3: 303; 3. 9: 49; 3. 9–10: 302; 3. 10–14: 301; 3. 14: 301; 3. 15: 327; 3. 15–16: 302, 327; 3. 16: 49, 51; 3. 17: 72, 302; 3. 19: 299 n.10, 303 (x2); 4: 293; 4–10: 169; 4. 1: 303; 4. 1–7: 293; 4. 5: 112; 4. 5–6: 293, 329; 4. 7: 303; 5: 293, 312, 327; 5. 1: 307 n.19; 6: 127, 232, 293, 339; 6. 1: 318; 6. 2: 314; 6. 7: 301, 311; 6. 8–12: 318; 6. 9–13: 302; 6. 10: 127; 6. 11: 128; 6. 14: 128; 6. 17–26: 319; 6. 18–28: 237; 6. 21: 293; 6. 22–26: 319; 6. 27: 313, 318; 6. 28–30: 318 n.25; 6. 29: 128, 369 n.37; 6. 31: 128 (x2); 6. 33: 128; 6. 35: 72, 173, 293; 6. 36: 353;

Page 25 of 31

 

Index Locorum II. 6. 38: 347 n.19; II. 6. 38–39: 18, 139; II. 6. 39: 46; II. 7: 49; II. 7–10: 287, 294, 315, 355; II. 7. 1: 162, 307, 332; II. 7. 3: 131; II. 7. 7–8: 130; II. 7. 9: 23 n.25; II. 7. 13–14: 49; II. 8–10: 162, 306; II. 8. 4: 23 n.25; II. 9: 310; II. 9. 4: 302; II. 9. 5–6: 310; II. 9. 8: 311 ‐III, 1: 333; III. 1. 4: 336; III. 1. 6: 103, 266; III. 1. 38: 263 n.27; III. 2: 26, 36, 47, 48, 89, 124; III. 2. 3: 11; III. 2. 4: 11; III. 3: 35, 45, 267; III. 3. 2: 35; III. 3. 2–3: 11 n.16; III. 3. 3–14: 19; III. 3. 5: 35; III. 3. 8: 16; III. 3. 15: 47; III. 4: 23; III. 4. 6: 23; III. 4. 7–11: 23; III. 4. 12: 23 (x2); III. 5: 267 n.24; III. 5. 14: 53; III. 6: 37, 333; III. 6. 1: 23 n.25; III. 6. 2: 17, 321; III. 6. 4–7: 19; III. 6. 12: 336; III. 7: 123; III. 7. 1–2: 124; III. 7. 2: 124; III. 7. 2–3: 321; III. 7. 9: 321; III. 8: 334, 351; III. 8. 5: 336, 352; III. 9–11: 45; Page 26 of 31

 

Index Locorum III. 9. 10: 14; III. 9. 10–11: 16, 374; III. 9. 11: 10, 20; III. 9. 12–13: 177, 158; III. 10: 186; III. 10. 1–8: 188; III. 10. 9–15: 138; III. 11: 336; III. 11. 7–9: 318 n.25; III. 11. 10: 294; III. 11. 16: 336; III. 11. 17–18: 128; III. 13. 4: 22 n.23; III. 14: 127; III. 14. 1: 320; III. 3.1–2: 321 ‐IV. 1. 1: 298; IV. 1. 2: 53, 78 n.13, 299, 335, 355; IV. 1. 3–4: 78 n.13; IV. 2: 162, 333; IV. 2. 6: 17; IV. 2. 8: 17; IV. 2. 11: 19; (p.402) IV. 2. 13–17: 266; IV. 2. 13–18: 362; IV. 2. 17: 199, 199 n.20; IV. 2. 23: 162; IV. 2. 24–29: 154, 221; IV. 2. 25: 154; IV. 2. 27: 154; IV. 2. 33: 158; IV. 2. 37: 169 n.70; IV. 2. 39: 162; IV. 2. 40: 20, 52, 162, 333; IV. 3: 305, 333; IV. 3. 5–7: 321; IV. 3: 333; IV. 3. 12: 367; IV. 3. 15: 305; IV. 3. 16: 306; IV. 3. 16–17: 365; IV. 4: 8 n.9, 232, 268, 330, 333, 363, 366; IV. 4. 1: 99 n.38, 314 n.24, 334 (x2), 363, 366; IV. 4. 1–4: 364; IV. 4: 368; IV. 4. 9: 341; IV. 4. 9–11: 334; IV. 4. 9–12: 364; IV. 4. 12: 364; Page 27 of 31

 

Index Locorum IV. IV. IV. IV. IV.

4. 4. 4. 4. 4.

13: 364; 14: 364; 14–16: 364; 15: 367; 15–16: 10, 33

IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV. IV.

4. 15–17: 367 (x2); 4. 16: 32; 4. 18: 365; 4. 19–25: 365; 4. 24: 292, 298; 4. 25: 365; 5: 305, 333; 5–6: 333; 5. 10: 355; 5. 12: 52; 6: 333; 6. 5: 299; 6. 6: 366; 6. 8–9: 336; 6. 11–14: 332; 6. 12: 110, 161, 175, 358; 6. 13–15: 129; 6. 14: 122 n.7, 124; 6. 15: 18; 7: 19, 353; 7. 1: 334, 353 (x2); 8–10: 169; 8. 1: 298; 8. 6: 12 n.16; 8. 10: 12 n.16; 8. 11: 298

;

Oec. I‐VI: 351; I. 5–15: 359; I. 8: 165; I. 8–15: 299 n.10; I. 14–15: 299 n.10; I. 14–18: 353; I. 16–23: 11 n.13, 354; I. 18–23: 253 n.10; I. 23: 86; II. 1–10: 170; II. 2: 352; II. 3: 353; II. 5: 313, 318; II. 5–6: 313; II. 9: 352; II. 11: 353; Page 28 of 31

 

Index Locorum II. 12–14: 353; III. 1: 190; III. 1–6: 191; III. 4: 190 (x2), 354; III. 6: 191; III. 9: 192; III. 11: 49; III. 14: 353; IV: 262 n.24; IV. 4ff: 288; IV. 4–25: 25, 52; IV. 18–19: 38, 72; IV. 20–25: 73; VI. 12: 351, 354; VII‐X: 19, 137, 351; VII‐end: 351; VII. 3: 314, 355; VII. 10: 50; VII. 11: 21; VII. 13: 21; VII. 17: 21; VII. 18: 21; VII. 30: 21; VII. 33: 21; VII. 37: 20; VII. 38: 21; VII. 42: 21, 51; IX. 11–16: 17; IX. 12: 13; IX. 13: 13; IX. 14: 22, 288, 367; X. 1: 139, 355; XI‐XV: 22 n.23; XI. 1: 355; XI. 1–7: 336; XI. 7: 256; XI. 9: 314, 354; XI. 10: 355; XII. 3: 22; XII. 5–7: 17; XII. 20: 289; XIII: 285; XIII. 1–5: 22; XIII. 6–12: 22; XIII. 9: 314 n.24; XIII. 7–8: 50 n.55; XIII. 9: 47; XIII. 11–12: 22; XIV. 1–5: 72; Page 29 of 31

 

Index Locorum XIV. 4–7: 288; XIV. 6–8: 72; XV. 4: 358; XV. 10: 193; XV. 11: 193; XV. 13: 358; XVI. 1: 358; XVI. 8: 358; XVI. 9: 355; XVII. 6: 358; XVII. 9: 357 (x2); XVII. 15: 358; XVIII. 3: 358; XVIII. 9: 358; XVIII. 9: 193; XIX. 5: 358 (x2); XIX. 11: 358; XIX. 13: 193, 358; XIX. 14–16: 193; XIX. 15: 358; XX: 11 n.13; XX: 354; XX. 26: 358; XX. 26–8: 358; XX. 28: 358; XX. 29: 359; XXI. 10: 186; XXI. 12: 35, 89 n.29, 354; XXII. 12: 160 Poroi I. 1: 23 n.25, 29; II. 5: 286; IV. 51: 37, 47, 314 n.24; V. 3–4: 119; VI. 1: 14, 37, 314 n.24; VI. 1: 355 Symp. 339; I. 4–5: 344; I. 6: 109; I. 9–10: 338; I. 11–16: 338; II: 338; II. 4: 130; II. 12: 339; II. 17: 339; II. 17–19: 339; II. 21–2: 343; III. 4: 12 n.16, 98; III. 5–6: 120; Page 30 of 31

 

Index Locorum III. 7: 12 n.16; III. 11: 348; IV. 2: 340; IV. 3: 340; IV. 4: 341; IV. 5–9: 124; IV. 6: 124; IV. 24: 206; IV. 28: 337 n.13; IV. 30–1: 166 n.68; IV. 34ff: 169 n.70; IV. 34–44: 287 n.63; IV. 45: 313; IV. 46–50: 339; IV. 47–8: 305, 306; IV. 48–50: 110; IV. 49–50: 334; IV. 52–55: 342; IV. 56–59: 341–2; IV.56–61: 211; IV. 60–64: 341; IV. 61: 341; V: 340; VI. 1: 340; VI. 3: 340; VI. 5: 341; VI. 6: 343; VI. 9–10: 188; VIII. 4: 337 n.13; VIII. 4–6: 342; VIII.5: 211; VIII. 13: 209; VIII. 25: 176, 359; VIII. 27–30: 209; VIII. 30: 130; VIII.37–43: 109; VIII. 40: 375; VIII. 41: 110, 334; VIII. 42–3: 110; VIII. 43: 314; IX: 188, 344

Page 31 of 31

 

Index Nominum

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

(p.403) Index Nominum Note: I am grateful to alexandra Djoulai for compiling this index. It contains characters mentioned in the texts, real and fictional. Abradatas, 104, 132–4, 135–41, 194–5, 216, 300, 369 Agesilaus, 70, 72, 76, 78–81, 81–6, 87, 88 n.28–9, 91, 93, 97, 98, 106, 108, 110, 115, 135, 170, 175, 176 n.77, 189. 198–200, 200–202, 203–4, 206–8, 210–211, 212–214, 224– 232, 232–43, 255, 274, 28, 30–2, 33, 42, 44, 298. 312, 327, 329, 339, 355, 367, 375 Agesipolis, 203 Aglaitadas, 205, 346–50 Alcibiades, 156–7, 204, 247, 251–4 Alexander of Pherae, 209–210 Anaxibius, 117, 209 Anaximander, 120 Andromachus, 102 Antisthenes, 98, 124, 129 n.16, 169 n.70, 211, 313, 340–2, 343 Apollodorus, 116, 360 Araspas, 85, 140, 215–9, 278–9 Archedemus, 310–11 Archidamus, 224–32 Ariaeus, 38, 73, 76 Aristippus, 10, 47, 76, 314, 334 Aristodemus, 309 Artabazus, 217 Artapatas, 143, 209, 217 Artaxerxes, 255, 258 Aspasia, 353 Astyages, 145, 220 Autocles, 102 Autolycus, 130, 209, 338, 339 Callias, 105–11, 130, 156, 209, 211, 313–4, 334–5, 338, 340–1, 375 Callicratidas, 281 Page 1 of 4

 

Index Nominum Callipides, 348 Callistratus, 94–5, 103 Cambyses (father of Cyrus the Elder), 20, 27–8, 45–6, 90, 104, 145, 265–7, 269, 272, 281, 294–7, 300, 302, 307, 321–3, 333 Cambyses, son of Cyrus, 260–1, 369 Chabrias, 94–5, 103 Charicles, 15 Charmides, 123–4 Chirisophus, 41, 362–3 Chrysantas, 28–9, 236, 285–6, 325, 367 Clearchus, 38, 40, 74–5, 182–5, 223, 236, 247, 255 n.11, 280, 281 Cleocritus, 108 Cleombrotus, 224, 227 Cleonymus, 224–32 Critias, 15, 65 n.83, 114–117, 156, 247–8, 2.51–6, 260, 360–2 Critobulus, 18, 86, 127–8, 169, 190–3, 204, 293, 313, 319, 336, 369 n.37 Criton, 310–11 Croesus, 132, 135,145–7, 148–57, 158–60, 163, 169, 172, 221, 276, 280, 300, 322–5, 369 Cyaxares, 84 n.22, 133, 134, 152, 167, 232–243, 265, 267–76, 281, 296 n.7, 325, 350, 370, 375 Cynisca, 91 Cyrus the Elder, 70, 74, 75, 78 n.13, 84 n.22, 114 n.53, 132–4, 136–42, 144–9, 149–57, 158, 162, 167, 170, 176 n.77, 185, 190, 193–5, 204–6, 214, 215–22, 229–31, 232–43, passim 246–90, 330, 333, 343, 345, 346, 347, 349, 350–1, 354–5, 362, 367–8, 369– 70, 375–6 Cyrus the Younger, 71–9, 94 n.33, 99, 134–6, 132 n.21, 180–6, 195–6, 200–2, 209, 212, 222–4, 255, 262 n.24, 278, 280, 281 Delphion, 101–2 Dercylidas 102–3, 113–4 (p.404) Diodorus, (not historian) 311–12 Diphridas, 79 Epaminondas, 96, 80–1 Episthenes, 42, 209–11, 228–9 Eteonicus, 198–9 Etymocles, 224 Euphron of Sicyon, 113 Eutherus, 308–10 Euthydemus, 17, 19, 52, 129, 154, 159, 162, 169 n.70, 199, 221, 305–6, 333 Gadatas, 275, 282 Glaucon, 17, 19, 37, 333, 336 Glous, 183 Gobryas, 242, 275 Gorgias, 338 Hermocrates, 88 n.28, 101, 306, 311–12, 334, 339–40 Hiero, 13, 14, 15, 21, 34–5, 48, 58, 82, 84 n.21, 92, 157–177, 189–90, 206, 208, 278, 296–7, 302, 316–8 Hippias, 334, 341, 363–6 Hipponicus, 105 Hystaspes, 242 Page 2 of 4

 

Index Nominum Idaeus, 207–8, 210 Iphicrates, 87, 93–6, 103, 110, 227 Ischomachus, 13, 13 n.17, 17, 20–22, 35, 59–60, 60 n.69, 72, 89 n.29, 186, 190, 193, 285, 288–9, 314 n.34, 351–60, 367 Jason of Pherae, 80, 93. 109 n.47 Lycon, 334, 338 Lycurgus, 32–3, 173, 175, 247, 257, 288–9, 320, 366–7 Lysander, 175, 179, 232–43 Mandane, 145, 261 Megabates, 78 n.13, 83–4, 203–4, 242 Menon, 39, 52, 75–7, 255, 258 Mithridates, 258 Niceratus, 120 Nicias, 75 Orontas, 73, 220, 222–4 Otys, 242 Panthea, 136–41, 195, 216–8, 282, 300, 322, 369 Pasimachus, 117 Pategyas, 201 Pausanias, 254 Peisander, 82, 198 Pericles, 75, 109 Pharnabazus, 89, 207–8, 232–43, 255, Pheraulas, 283–7, 319, 322, 329 n.33, 359 n.28, 376 Philip (clown), 338, 343, 345 Phoebidas, 115 Pigres, 183 Polycrates, 281 Polydamas, 80, 102, 109 n.47 Prodicus, 338 Proxenus, 38–9, 52, 54, 55 n.52, 247, 278 Rheomithras, 258 Sambaulas, 189, 350 Seuthes, 185, 209–11, 228–9, 300 Simonides, 13–15, 34–5, 39, 48, 58, 66, 92, 133, 157–77, 208, 278, 296–7, 302, 374 Socrates, 6–24, 25, 27, 28, 30, 33, 35, 37, 38, 45, 46, 47, 48, 51, 52, 53, 54, 56, 61, 66, 70, 73, 82, 85, 86, 105, 106, 109, 110, 112, 116, 119–32, 138, 139, 142, 149, 154, 156, 157, 160 n.52, 163 n.65, 169 n.70, 180, 186, 187, 188, 190–3, 199, 204, 208, 211, 218, 221, 222, 227, 231, 247, 251–4, 260, 262 n.24, 267, 283, 287 n.53, 288, 289, 292–4, 298, 299, 301–12, 313–4, 318–9, 320, 321, 322, 326, 327, 328, 330–68. 370–1, 375 Soteridas, 40–1, 184–5 Sphodrias, 42, 43, 212–4, 216, 224–31 Spithiridates, 241–3 Stesimbrotus, 120 Tantalus, 35 Teleutias, 87–93, 97, 98, 99, 110, 180–1, 193 (p.405) Tharypas, 76 Theodote, 187, 294, 318 n.25, 336 Theramenes, 114–7, 360–1 Page 3 of 4

 

Index Nominum Thibron ‐ a lost writer on Sparta, 250 Thibron (Spartan), 79 Thrasybulus, 75, 100–105, 110, 243–4 Tigranes, 20, 219–24, 271, 278 Tissaphernes, 31, 255 Triptolemus, 108 Xenophon (in character), 38–42, 184–5, 209–11, 278, 281, 326, 362–3, 370

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Topic Index

Xenophon's Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections Vivienne J. Gray

Print publication date: 2010 Print ISBN-13: 9780199563814 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: May 2011 DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199563814.001.0001

(p.406) Topic Index This index breaks chapters down into headings Authorial evaluations in narrative: 70–118 Obituaries: 37–40, 70–9 Of greatness: 81–99 Seeming to be: 45–7, 100–105, 265–7 Self praise: 105–111 Loyalty in misfortune: 111–4 Theramenes 114–8 Cyropaedia, darker readings: 246–290 Epilogue: 246–63 Destruction of republic: 264–5 Cyrus' education: 265–7 ‘Using Cyaxares’: 267–76 Meeting with Croesus: 152–6 Historical realities: Fear: 277–9 Proskynesis: 280–1 Withdrawal: 281–2 Eunuchs: 282 Enslavement: 282–3 Commoners: 283–8 Law with eyes: 288–9 Friendships: 291–329 ‘Use’ of friends: 298–300 ‘According to ability’: 304–6 Private friendship: 292–4, as Leadership: 300–304, between Rich and poor: 306–12 Between leaders and followers: 294–7, 312–4, 315–20 Incentive to lead: 321 Page 1 of 2

 

Topic Index Advantage in wealth: 321–5 Stifling initiative: 325–8 Intertextuality: 119–178 Homer 119–144, Herodotus 145–58, Plato and Herodotus and the tradition on tyranny: 163–170 Machiavelli: 55 n.62, 268 Irony and humour: 330–371 In Socratic works: 330–335, 351–62 In narrative works: 345–51, 362–3, 368–70 Straussian: 56–7, 171–7, 268–9, 364–8 Leadership theory: Division of leaders and followers; 9–11 Function: 11–12 Success definition: 12–15 Willing obedience: 15–18 Knowledge: 19–20 Access to: 20–22 Universal application of theory in Cyr. 25–30, Ag. 30–2, LP 32–4 Hiero 34–5, Hipp. 35–6, Poroi: 36–7, An. 37–43, Hell. 43–4 Literary theory: 44–51, 62–9, 119–132, 187–93, 345–9 Modern management theory: 2, 4, 10, 14, 69, 285 n.62, 372–6 Patterned narrative: 179–245 Willing obedience to commanders: 180–196 Reception of bad news: 187–93 The paidikos logos: 2–3–11 The unjust acquittal: 211–33 The offensive subordinate: 233–43 The basis of rule: 243–4 Reception, of Xenophon's theory of leadership: 54–69

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