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Writing History
The ancient Greeks possessed a rich historical imagination. Through the public performance of poetry and plays to the sculptures that adorned temples and decorative scenes on domestic drinking vessels, exceptional deeds were retold, restaged and displayed. The expeditions against Troy and its heroes’ protracted returns, the adventures of Heracles and of Theseus, the internal conflicts that over generations brought down the ruling houses of Mycenae and Thebes: such stories projected discrete and interconnected pasts for Greek communities, conveying contemporary values and providing a route to self-identity. By the fifth century, recent events were supersized into this mythical register. So, Aeschylus presented the Athenian victory at Salamis in 480 BC in tragic form (Persians, produced 472 BC), and in verse Simonides (Elegy 11) compared the Spartan-led victory at Plataea the following year to accomplishments at Troy. At the same time, historiography, the writing up of authored inquiries into the recent past, elevated its subject matter: thus Herodotus addressed ‘the great and marvellous deeds done by Greeks and non-Greeks’ (Histories 1.1) whose fame he sought to preserve, and Thucydides aimed to create a ‘possession for all time’ by recording a conflict that was ‘great and noteworthy above all other wars’ (History 1.22, 1.1). These two authors – each known today as a ‘father of history’ – also interrogated imperialism through their separate depictions of the Persian Wars and Peloponnesian Wars. Imagining the past was an opportunity for celebration, reflection and critique.
When Xenophon wrote about the past, he entered this tradition. By providing accounts, respectively, of Greek relations from the Peloponnesian War to the destruction of Sparta (411–362 BC), the education of Cyrus and his rise to the Persian throne (c. 540 BC) and the journey of a Greek army stranded in Persia (401–399 BC), Hellenica, Cyropaedia and Anabasis each commemorated the deeds of exceptional individuals in conflict situations. Furthermore, they also advanced a critical position. As this chapter will show, by capitalizing upon new historiographical techniques, Xenophon simultaneously imposed a coherent narrative upon the past and articulated his concerns as an inhabitant of the present. Writing history offered a means to analyse contemporary Greek politics, model good leadership and explore associated difficulties, with insights afforded through active reflection and first-hand experience. Human action and motivation sit at the heart of this analysis. In their depiction, Xenophon fluctuates between pessimism and idealism.
On Greek affairs
Befitting its title, Xenophon’s Hellenica presents a concentrated study of ‘Greek affairs’. At its core stand Athens and Sparta, whose antagonism and changing fortunes provide the context for myriad conflicts between Greek cities. The primary terrain of activity is the Aegean, from its islands to the coastal and inland settlements of the Greek mainland (see Map 1). It also extends up and over through Thessaly, Macedonia and Thrace and across the Hellespont into Asia, from where Persian satraps intervene, as well as westwards to Sicily, whence Dionysius sends reinforcements, including Celtic cavalry. Events thus unfold in an interconnected Mediterranean world. This combination of singular focus and breadth of scope is also a hallmark of the Hellenica’s temporal purview. Progressing forward, Hellenica zooms in on one location to describe military confrontation or political decision-making at one point in time before moving on to another, following a sequence of episodes or shifting to a new stream. Characterized by the frequent refrain ‘after that’ (meta de tauta), the narrative of Greek history thus moves horizontally (across space) and vertically (down time), cumulatively tracing human activity around the Aegean over a fifty-year period. In the process, events are depicted, motivations are asserted, consequences are detailed, and judgements are implicitly invited or explicitly made. Hellenica’s account of recent Greek history is also a critique of human affairs.
To understand this critique, it is necessary to appreciate Xenophon’s technique. Like any historian, Xenophon is the architect of the past that he seeks to represent: he selects what to write and how to write about it. For Hellenica, the frame is set by a pervasive focus on conflict which prioritizes the actions of individuals and communities in times of war. This is exemplified already in the first paragraph of Hellenica, which picks up where Thucydides left off (in 411 BC):
After that, and not many days later, Thymochares came from Athens, bringing a handful of ships. Immediately the Lacedaemonians and Athenians entered battle once more, and the Lacedaemonians won, led by Agesandridas.
Hellenica 1.1.1
The Athenian and Spartan crews fight it out, but it is the intervention and skill of their respective leaders that provoke battle and facilitate the outcome. A ‘Great Man’ view of the past is mitigated somewhat by the diverse cast of named individuals drawn from multiple cities, the majority of whom make only brief appearances. Nonetheless, in Hellenica men in charge make events happen. This is not simple chauvinism, however. A person-centred approach helps Xenophon navigate a complex and fluid military-political scenario. The effect can be seen as the sequence of events unfolds. Moving on into winter, the main actors are: Doreius, bringing ships from Rhodes and then beaching them under Athenian attack at Rhoeteum; Mindarus at Ilium sailing to the rescue; Alcibiades arriving in the Hellespont with ships to support the Athenians; Pharnabazus leading his troops to aid the Spartan fleet, as it flees towards Abydus; and, finally, Thrasyllus departing to report to Athens, whilst the majority of Athenian ships sets out from Sestus to requisition money (1.1.2–8). The location and movement of these persons within the north-eastern Aegean defines the field of military action. At the same time, the focus on individuals keeps the story moving, with new arrivals facilitating successes and reversals in fortune for the undifferentiated troops serving under them.
The reactions of individuals to developing circumstances also create drama: for example, when the sight of the sea battle causes Mindarus to launch his triremes (1.1.4), or Pharnabazus rushes on his horse into the sea and fights, cheered on by his own cavalrymen and foot soldiers (1.1.6). Although brief, these are heroic moments, during which single men step to the fore and into danger. However, a character in the Hellenica is just as likely to respond to circumstances with a speech. For example, when the Spartan general Callicratidas finds himself undermined by the allies of Lysander, whom he has been sent to replace (in 406 BC), he makes an address to the Spartan fleet that describes his assumption of command as an act of obedience. With the spectre of the state’s authority raised, dissent is quashed (1.6.5–6). Or next, when he fails to extract money from the Persian king, Callicratidas extorts funds from a panicked Milesian assembly by exhorting them to show leadership amongst the allies and join Sparta in punishing their enemies. With this injection of cash, Callicratidas can now attack and remove Methymna from Athenian control (1.6.8–14). In both instances, the way forward is disputed. Callicratidas’ arguments override the opposition and effect a solution. In Hellenica, the persuasive speaker is as much the agent of history as the general who charges onto the beach. And yet, in both cases the self-interest of the listeners, who (as stated or implied) dare not challenge the authority of the Spartan state or are alarmed at the demand to go to war, is as much a factor in what happens next. Thus, in addition to showing how events unfolded, by staging deliberation and reporting outcomes, Hellenica offers insights into why they happened.
The organization of Xenophon’s history around the (inter)actions of cities, led by individuals who stand apart from and act on behalf of the community, makes Hellenica a fundamentally political work. War dominates not on its own merit (as in Thucydides’ History), but as the acting out of shared and conflicting interests between networks of allies or factions within a city. This is exemplified by events following the arrival of Timocrates of Rhodes in Greece in 395 BC with fifty talents of silver, provided by the Persian satrap Tithraustes. Timocrates’ advent ultimately results in conflict between Corinth, Thebes, Argos and Athens on the one side and Sparta on the other. However, there are various motivations at play. First (as reported), Tithraustes intends to divert the Spartan king Agesilaus from his conquests in Asia by stirring up trouble at home. Second (as implied), the named individuals who take the money and discredit Sparta in their hometowns are motivated by greed. Third (as stated), it is hatred that pushes the first three cities into alliance (3.5.1–2). Fourth, when the Thebans then act provocatively, this becomes a pretext (as described) for the Spartans to punish Thebes for earlier acts of insolence (3.5.4–5). Fifth (as demonstrated), the Athenians are persuaded into alliance by promises of renewed supremacy and out of gratitude for the Thebans’ earlier rejection of a Spartan plan to attack Piraeus (3.5.8). Competing ambitions over wealth and power, be they long-standing or freshly inspired, result in the ongoing breakdown of relations within and between cities.
Hellenica charts the violence that follows. An initial assault by Sparta on Haliartus, designed to provoke the city into breaking its allegiance to Thebes, results instead in the Spartans’ rout by the Thebans and their withdrawal from Boeotia, following a further battle with the Athenians (3.5.16–25). Once Agesilaus arrives, more victory trophies are set up for the Spartans than their enemies: at Corinth (4.2.23), in Thessaly (4.3.9), and against massed forces at Coronea (4.2.23, 4.3.9, 4.3.21). At the same time, however, Spartan ships are defeated in a naval battle with the Athenians and Persians at Cnidus (4.3.10–12). In short, none of the victories is conclusive. An authorial perspective might be found in the concluding summary for a battle that arises when Sparta and the Sicyonians attempt to seize Corinth at the request of some exiles (in 392 BC). ‘On that day, in a short period of time many fell, so that men accustomed to seeing mounds of grain and wood and stones, instead saw mounds of corpses’ (4.4.9–12). By imagining the perspective of the farmer transplanted onto the battlefield, the narrator conveys the scale of the slaughter. As in the Iliad, where the worlds of agriculture and war are frequently juxtaposed to problematize heroic action on the battlefield, this comparison evokes pathos, an emotional response to human suffering. The epic allusion carries forward the problematics of war. This element is deepened by the battle’s inconclusive result. Practical outcomes include a tactical retreat by Sparta, following...