Whatever the exact nature of political authority in the Dark Age, come the Archaic period, Greece transformed from a land of small village-kingdoms to a land of city-states, called poleis (pl. of polls). There were two ways that a polis
Could come into being. The simpler, and generally later, way was through colonization, as described in chapter 4. Here, a designated leader, the oikistes, led a group of people to a new land to establish a new city of residence. The oikistes was the first ruler of the people, and the colonists each received equal portions of land on which to begin their homesteads. A sense of community was created by the common colonizing experience of the original settlers, which was passed down to their children along with the land.
However, colonization, except in the Dark Age, presupposes an original city from which the settlers set out, such as the Erefrians and Chalkidians who went to Pithekoussai (see chapter 5) or the Spartans who settled Italian Taras. How, then, did these original poleis come into being, after the tribulations that ended the Bronze Age? In general, the original Greek poleis came into being through synoecism, which means literally "houses together," and refers to the process by which individual homes, families, and clans united into the political unit of the polis. Such processes are recorded literarily and archaeologically.
For literary evidence, we might consider Athens, whose synoecism was recorded by the fifth-century historian Thucydides. In Book 2, §15, 1-2, of his Peloponnesian War, the historian tells us:
For in the time of Kekrops and the first kings up to the time of Theseus Attica always existed in individual cities, each having their own city halls and magistrates, and if not compelled by some common fear, they did not come together to join in council with the king, but each separately conducted civil affairs and city planning. And some of them even waged war on the kings, like the Eleusinians in the time of Eu-molpos with Erechtheus. But when Theseus was king, having power in addition to intelligence, he marshaled together the land in many respects, and having disbanded the other cities' councils and magistracies, he made them now into one city, creating one city council and city hall. He bound them together, all those who still lived separately as before, and made them use the one city [Athens]. And the city became great, what with all those tax-payers, handed down by Theseus to his successors, and from that time even to now the Athenians celebrate the Synoikia festival at public expense in honor of the goddess.
For archaeology, two sites provide excellent evidence for the synoecism of Corinth. The earlier evidence comes from the acropolis of Corinth—Acro-corinth—where Protogeometric cups were discovered; these may have served as cult items or votives, indicating an active cult from as early as the tenth century b. c.e. (Williams 1994, 33-36). The temple on Acrocorinth—dedicated to the city's goddess Aphrodite—was originally constructed at the end of the seventh century, to be replaced by a more elaborate version in the fifth. This shows that at least by the late seventh century, there was sufficient political unity in the area to provide for the mass effort, and mass expense, of a city sanctuary to an official city goddess. Perhaps more indicative of political unity is the evidence from the cemeteries. In the mid-eighth century, the small "family plot" burials around the city were consolidated into a new, common burial ground in the lower plain below the city, and the North Cemetery came into
Common usage (Williams 1994, 33-36). Thus, from a small series of family plots, a larger, more communal ideology developed.
This synoecism of Corinth probably occurred under the auspices of their dominant aristocratic family—the Bacchiadae. Almost every ancient Greek po-lis was originally dominated by at least one such family. Sparta, as we shall see below, had two. We might imagine that these families were the original defenders, judges, and even priests of their respective poleis, thus functioning much as the basileis of Homer and Hesiod. Also in keeping with Dark Age tradition was the practice of keeping royal authority within the family. Although such political "hoarding" may have been practical during the unsettled times of the Dark Age, it became increasingly intolerable to the Greeks beginning with the eighth-century renaissance. This was because the colonizing efforts of the Greeks created new patterns of settlement and distribution of power in the newly settled poleis. Every (male) settler received an equal allotment of land and a say in local affairs. Such diffusion of political power was probably responsible for the earliest inklings of democracy in Greek political thought (Robinson 1997, passim). Furthermore, the economic prosperity that began to rise in the eighth century instigated the rise of a middle class—that population with copious economic resources but no "royal blood." In short, people outside of the royal families were coming into power, either through amassing wealth or through relocation. Inevitably, there would be a confrontation between the traditional power holders and those demanding a bigger piece of the political pie.
The resolution to this conflict in most Greek poleis, except Sparta and Aig-ina, was tyranny. For the record, an ancient Greek tyrant was not, at least originally, the same thing as a despot, as we now tend to think of the concept. A despot was, and is, an "evil ruler"; an ancient tyrant was a man who held power in a nontraditional and/or nonconstitutional way. In some cases, these men actually were kings, but kings who acted in unorthodox ways. Or, more often, they were related to the ruling family but used their "reign" or "tyranny" to change the political and even social composition of the city they ruled. In this way, tyrants actually tended to be good for the Greek poleis, allowing for a transition between the hereditary monarchies of the Early Archaic Age and the constitutional governments of the Classical period. Although in later times the tyrants were demonized and portrayed as violent, if not actually perverted, in their own period they were tolerated and praised. They were the alternative to violent revolution.
The word tyrant is non-Indo-European (see chapter 1). Although the etymology is still under debate, the ancient Greeks seemed to think that the word, if not the concept entirely, came from the east, specifically from Lydia in what is now western Turkey. The word first appears in a poem of the seventh-century poet Archilochus, who said:
The things of Gyges rich in gold do not concern me, neither has jealousy yet taken me, nor do I reproach the works of the gods; I do not desire a great tyranny, for that is far off from my vision.
Tyranny first appeared in Greece in the seventh century b. c.e. The first figure who could be considered a tyrant was Pheidon of Argos, who established the weights and measures of the Greeks and once seized control of the Olympic Games. Unfortunately, Pheidon is an amorphous creature to modern researchers. The dates of his supposed exploits span 150 years, from the early seventh century down through the mid-sixth, and this makes it difficult to say anything concrete about Pheidon's life or reign. The more historic first tyrant was Cypselus of Corinth, for whom we have excellent (if biased) evidence from both Herodotus and Nicolaus of Damascus. This Cypselus ruled from about 657-625 b. c.e., and his son Periandros after him ruled circa 625-585. The fullest account of the Cypselid rise to power is preserved in Book 5 of Herodotus's Histories (Book 5, 91), in which a Corinthian named Sosikles is trying to prevent the Spartans from returning the Athenian tyrant Hippias to power in Athens. As a result, Sosikles puts a very negative spin on tyranny in general, and the earliest tyrants come across in a very harsh, if amusing, light:
For the government of the Corinthians was thus: it was an oligarchy, and those called Bacchiadae governed the city, and they gave and took [wives] only among each other. Among these men, one belonging to Amphion, was a lame daughter, whose name was Labda. Since no one of the Bacchiadae wanted to marry her, Eetion, son of Ekhekratos, of the deme of Petras but by descent of Lapithes and Kaineides, married her. But no children came to him, either from this wife or any other woman, so he set forth to Delphi concerning his family. At his arrival straightaway the Pythia greeted him with these words:
"Eetion, no one honors you, being most honorable.
Labda is pregnant, she'll bear a boulder, which will Fall upon the monarchs, bringing justice to Corinth."
These things she prophesized to Eetion were likewise announced to the Bacchiadae, to whom there had been a previously unintelligible prophecy in Corinth concerning them and Eetion, which went thus:
"An eagle gives birth among the rocks, will bring forth a lion strong and ravening, it will loose the knees of many.
Well pay heed to these things, Corinthians, who Live around lovely Pirene and rocky Corinth."
Previously this was incomprehensible to the Bacchiadae, but then with the speech to Eetion they understood, as immediately they saw the similarity between the two, their prophecy and that of Eetion. Getting together in secret, they decided to destroy the child of Eetion as soon as it was born. Just as soon as his wife gave birth, they sent 10 of their own to the deme in which Eetion lived to kill the child. Arriving in Petras and approaching Eetion's courtyard, they asked for the child. Labda, knowing nothing of why they came and thinking that they were there for love of his father, handed the child over to one of them. Their plan had been that the first of them to get hold of the child would dash it onto the street. But when Labda carrying the child handed him over, by good chance the child smiled at the one of the men who took him, and seeing this pity, kept him from killing anyone, and having compassion he
Handed him over to the second guy, who gave him to the third, and so on until, having been passed about, the child went around to all 10 of them, none of them wanting to do the deed. Having handed the child back to its mother and heading outside, they stood around by the gates upbraiding each other, especially accusing the first guy who took the child, in that he didn't act according to the plan. Then, after a time, they decided to go back and all take part in the murder.
But it was fated that an evil for Corinth would sprout from the family of Eetion. For Labda heard everything they said standing by the gates. Fearing lest they change their minds and, getting a hold of the kid a second time, kill him, she carried him and hid him in the most unlikely place she could think of—a storage bin (cypselus)—be-lieving that if they returned they would conduct a thorough search, looking everywhere they could think of. And this in fact did happen. They returned, and when they looked everywhere and could not find the child, it seemed best to them to leave and to tell those who sent them that they did everything that they were supposed to. And this is what they did. And after this the son of Eetion grew up, and because he escaped danger in a storage bin, they named him Cypselus.
When Cypselus grew up he consulted an oracle in Delphi and got a double-edged prophecy. Relying on it he prepared to take Corinth. The prophecy went thus:
"Best is the man who walks into my house,
Cypselus, son of Eetion, King of glorious Corinth,
And your children, but not your children's children"
Such was the prophecy, and Cypselus, becoming a tyrant, was such a man as this: he banished many Corinthians and stole their property, while from many others he stole their lives. Having ruled 30 years and come to the end of his life in style, his son Periandros was heir to his tyranny. Now this Periandros was at the beginning milder than his father, but then he associated by messenger with Thrasyboulos, tyrant of Miletos. Then he became far more bloodthirsty than his father. For he sent a messenger to Thrasyboulos to find out by what means he should most securely set up his affairs and best manage his city. Thrasyboulos went along with Periandros's man. Leading him out of town, and going to a cultivated field he went along through the grain stalks questioning and cross-examining the messenger about why he had come from Corinth, and whenever he saw some one of the ears of grain projecting up above the others he cut it down and threw it away, and so he destroyed the finest and tallest of the grain. Having gone through the fields and not offered a word of advice, he sent the messenger away. When the messenger returned home to Corinth, Perian-dros was eager to inquire as to the advice. The messenger said that Thrasyboulos hadn't advised a thing, and that he [the messenger] was amazed that Periandros should have sent him to such a man, being so loony and destructive (for he described to Periandros the things he saw Thrasyboulos do). But Periandros understood what he did and believed that Thrasyboulos advised him to kill the prominent citizens. So then he unleashed the most unpleasant acts on the Corinthians. For whatever Cypselus left [undone] in terms of killing and banishing, Periandros accomplished, and furthermore in one day he stripped naked all the women of Corinth on account of his wife Melissa. For he sent a messenger to the Thesprotons by the Akheron River for a necromancer so as to inquire about the property of a friend, and Melissa said
That she would neither point out nor relate where the goods lay in the land, for she was cold and naked because they buried her with clothes that were unburnt, ergo useless to her. And to prove that what she said was true, she mentioned that Perian-dros tossed loaves of bread into a cold oven. This was then related to Periandros, and the latter comment was meaningful to him, since he had had sex with Melissa's corpse. As soon as the messenger gave him this message, Periandros sent all the Corinthian women to the temple of Hera, and they went to the "festival” decked out in their finest apparels. But Periandros, having placed spearmen in ambush, stripped them all at once, both free woman and servant, and bore the clothing to a hole and burnt them, calling upon Melissa. Having done these things and having sent a second time to the necromancer, the ghost of Melissa told him where in the land he had put his friend's property.
The version of Cypselus's tyranny as preserved in the works of Nicolaus of Damascus appears less judgmental, showing Cypselus to be a mild and effectual ruler, as was his son after him. Seeing how their reign lasted for some sixty years, one has to imagine that there was more to their work than bloodshed and necrophilia. According to Nicolaus, Cypselus began his political career as a polemarch, the officer who judged criminal cases, exacted fines, and imprisoned the guilty. The previous Bacchiadae who had held this position were "overwhelming and violent,” whereas Cypselus was "prudent and public-minded.” Becoming popular with the common folk, Cypselus garnered support and, in a sudden coup d'etat, killed the Bacchiad king. From here, Cypselus attempted to correct the injustices committed by the Bacchiadae against the Corinthians, such as recalling exiles and restoring their citizenship. Ultimately, Nicolaus claimed that Cypselus ruled in a mild manner, did not need a bodyguard, and was not hateful to the Corinthians (Fragments of the Greek Historians 90 F 57.4-57.8). As for Periandros, even Herodotus admitted that the man was world-famous for his wisdom and just judgments (McGlew 1993, ch. 2).
Furthermore, the Cypselids greatly improved the Corinthian economy, which had already been flourishing since the seventh century. They sent out several new colonies to Italy and Sicily, many founded by the illegitimate sons of Cypselus. With the exception of Corkyra, all these colonies remained friendly with Corinth throughout their histories. The Cypselids initiated trade relations with Egypt, which had been a very standoffish country up to that point. Periandros established the diolkos, a "strip” that allowed ships to be dragged between the Corinthian and Saronic Gulfs—an ancient Greek Panama Canal—greatly increasing Corinth's role in overseas trade. In general, it was in any tyrant's best interest to improve the lives of his constituents, especially those of the middle class, as it was through their goodwill that the tyrannies endured.
Tyranny need not have been the result of a bloody coup, as is evident in the rise of another famous tyrant—Gelon of Syracuse, founder of the Deinomenid dynasty. This man used his status as a war victor to rally public support. In 479 b. c.e., Gelon successfully led the city's defense against an attack from Carthage
(a Phoenician colony located on the north shore of Africa). Diodorus Siculus tells us that upon returning home, Gelon, as general, called an assembly of the Syracusan demos, at which he appeared completely unarmed to deliver an account of his actions and victory. At the end of his address, he offered to relinquish his role as defender of the city; the demos shouted down the offer and proclaimed him benefactor, savior, and king (basileus) (McGlew 1993, 137).
Although many tyrants supported each other, as the episode between Pe-riandros and Thrasyboulos makes clear, in other cases they were perfectly willing to take advantage of each other, overthrowing rival tyrannies and proclaiming themselves "liberators" of the people. Such were the actions of Gelon's brother and successor Hieron. According to Diodorus Siculus (11.53.4-5), Thrasydaios, tyrant of nearby Acragas and Himera, attacked Syracuse in the 470s b. c.e. After some confusion, Hieron defeated the attacker, who was packed off to exile in Megara on the Greek mainland. Immediately upon his removal, the demoi of both cities, Acragas and Himera, established themselves as democracies and sent ambassadors to Hieron with terms for peace. Technically, Hieron had just conquered both cities, and it could have been in his interest to extend his tyranny over both. Instead, he accepted their offerings of peace and let them remain independent democracies, allied to, but not controlled by, Syracuse. In later years, these cities would show their gratitude to the Deinomenids by taking in Thrasyboulos, son of Hieron, when he was ousted from Syracuse.
The Deinomenids were, for their brief period of power at the beginning of the fifth century b. c.e., mild and apparently well liked, a sharp contrast to what later political commentators would consider to be "tyrannical." Their reign was particularly fruitful in the realms of literature, and their dynasty was the subject of, or referred to by, several odes from the Greek poet Pindar (see chapter 10). Concerning Hieron, Pindar wrote in his sixth Olympian for the victor Hagesias (ll. 92-98):
And I said to remember Syracuse and Ortygia,
Which Hieron manages with a pure scepter,
Contriving perfection, he honors purple-footed
Demeter and the festival of the white horse and her daughter
And the might of Aitnian Zeus. Sweet songs
And chanting lyres know him. Let not encroaching time
Ruin his joy,
But with loving, friendly greetings may he receive Hagesias' band of revelers
From one home to another, approaching from the walls of Stymphalos,
Leaving behind mother Arcadia rich in sheep.
Many tyrannies shared certain characteristics. The tyrant was usually somehow related to the ruling family, as was the case with Cypselus, or was at least related to another tyrant through blood or marriage. Thus, he was of the aris-
Tocracy, but not for the aristocracy. He had legitimacy to rule, but could garner public support from the masses by being in a position to defend them against the atrocities of the ruling regime, or, as with Gelon, against an external enemy. Thus, tyrants came to power by offering freedom to the people. The inherent flaw in this, of course, was that eventually the people actually wanted their freedom, meaning freedom from tyranny. This was why few tyrannies lasted longer than two generations—refer back to the prophecy quoted about Cypselus above: "And your children, but not your children's children." By the time a tyranny was over, the polis usually had a new social and political composition in which a greater percentage of the male population had access to the wheels of power and in which economic prosperity extended to a larger portion of the people.