Darius III and his Generalship

Throughout much of history, Alexander has been seen as the great conqueror of the mighty Persian Empire, a uniter of men, and superb military genius. Juxtaposed to this glorious figure is Alexander’s Persian counterpart, Darius III. The majority of both ancient and contemporary historians have looked down upon the final Achaemenid king. He has been described as cowardly, inept, and foolish, both as a king and as a military commander. One of the chief ancient sources, Arrian, describes Darius as “the feeblest and most incompetent of men” (185). Many modern historians are influenced by this overtly negative bias against Darius, and consequently make their own negative judgments about him. W. W. Tarn, for example, proclaims Alexander’s foe as a “poor despot, cowardly and inefficient” (1.58). These sentiments are exemplary of the general attitudes that have existed throughout history toward Darius III.

Are these negative sentiments, however, accurate, or are they the result of propaganda campaigns intended to glorify the name of Alexander, and slander the reputations of his foes, especially Darius III? Several studies have been published in recent years that have focused on the figure of Darius III. These studies attempt to unveil an accurate portrayal of Darius, free of the biases that previous works have shown. One facet of Darius’ life that is being portrayed in a much more accurate manner is his generalship. In the past, Darius has been ridiculed for being an extremely incompetent general on the battlefield, experiencing great losses at Issus and Guagamela, despite his numerical superiority. Detailed scholarship, however, is revealing a different side to Darius’s military strategies that history has seemingly neglected to report.

The first major pitched battle between the Persian army and Alexander’s army occurred at the Granicus River, situated in the northwestern region of Asia Minor, in 334 B.C. Although Darius was not present at the battle, he undoubtedly played a large role in the preparations for it. The ancient sources describe a council of Persian generals that preceded their deployment at the Granicus. Memnon, the Rhodian general who was not only in charge of the Greek mercenary contingency in the Persian army, but was also a member of the ruling class in the Persian aristocracy, gave a strong argument for delaying a confrontation with Alexander. Instead, he proposed to burn the resources in that region of Asia Minor, which possibly could have forced Alexander to leave the region unscathed in order to attain the necessary resources for his soldiers. A Persian satrap, Arsites, strongly rebutted this plan, stating that “he would not consent to the destruction by fire of a single house belonging to any of his subjects” (Arrian 69). The other Persian generals present strongly agreed with Arsites’ sentiment, and decided to deploy their troops along the banks of the Granicus River, where they were defeated by Alexander and his army.

The tactics of the battle are not relevant since Darius was absent from all of the proceedings surrounding the event. Unfortunately, the ancient sources are completely silent in regards to the location of Darius, and the reason why he is not present at either the council or the battle itself. One possible explanation is that Darius was busy raising an army from his home base in central Persia. Upon learning of Alexander’s crossing of the Hellespont, he may have commanded his satraps and generals in Asia Minor to raise an army from their own lands to confront Alexander. Darius may have thus left the tactical planning to his generals, which would explain the calling of the war council at Zeleia

Many critics of Darius have called his decision to reject the advice of Memnon unwise and rash. Briant, however, provides a very convincing theory that seemingly releases Darius from fault (2002: 821-823). The ancient sources, especially Diodorus, highlight the advice of Memnon as very sound and intelligent. One must remember though that Memnon was just one man among many generals and satraps taking part in the war council. The Greek historians may have excessively emphasized his prominence because he was himself Greek, and thus, according to ancient Greek sentiments, was superior to the Persians. The truth may be that while Memnon’s advice was considered, albeit briefly, the military strategy of the Persians in Asia Minor may have already been decided beforehand. Briant proposes that Darius had already given his orders to attack Alexander to his generals, and the council was held only to decide the location of and the manner in which the encounter should occur. If this were the case, Arsites and the other Persian generals would have quickly disregarded Memnon’s advice and instead focus their attention on how to best approach the inevitable encounter with Alexander. The ancient historians overly emphasized Memnon’s importance in the council, and when this is couple with the hindsight the historians possessed, one can see how many scholars, both ancient and contemporary, would fault Darius for employing the wrong strategy in response to Alexander’s arrival in Asia.

Darius’ next move was to appoint his Greek general, Memnon, who had survived the engagement at the Granicus River, as commander of the entire Persian fleet (Arrian 84). Alexander, after the capture of Miletus, disbanded the bulk of his naval fleet, possibly because he expected to capture the essential naval bases lying along the Carian, Lycian, Pamphylian, and Cilician coastline, negating the necessity for a strong fleet (Diodorus XVII.23.1). Darius appointed Memnon as commander of the Persian fleet in the hopes of recapturing the coastal settlements in southern Asia Minor that Alexander successfully captured in 333. If Memnon was successful in capturing these settlements, Alexander may have had a large problem on his hands. His ties to Europe would have been cut, leaving him and his army devoid of the essential resources that were coming in from the Hellespont regions. Some scholars believe that the death of Memnon in 333, during his naval siege of Mytilene, was the cause of the eventual demise of the Persian fleet. However, Memnon had appointed two men to take over his command before he died: Pharnabazus and Autophradates (Arrian 101). These men were even able to capture Mytilene after Memnon’s death. Alexander did seem to be quite concerned with the Persian fleet, since he did commission the creation of a new fleet to combat it (Arrian 103). Even this new fleet, however, did not seem to disturb Persia’s naval superiority (Briant 2002: 827). Instead, the main cause of the demise of the Persian fleet seems to stem from the fact that Darius recalled many of the mercenaries in the navy to serve in his land army as a response to Alexander’s reinforcements and his increasing speed toward the Phoenician coast. Darius did not merely give up on his naval campaign. It seems that he was rather planning on attacking Alexander with both a naval and a land contingency. However, Alexander’s speedy march through Caria and Lycia forced Darius to change this plan. Since Darius did not have enough time to recruit troops from the Eastern provinces of his empire, he was forced to recall a large number of soldiers from his navy (Curtius 3.8.1). Quick, necessary adjustments such as this are not emphasized by the ancient historians, but are rather hinted at, only to be drawn out by modern historians.

Darius’ following actions preceding the Battle of Issus have drawn additional ire from both ancient and modern historians. Once he received the additional troops from his fleet, Darius traveled west and encamped at Sochi, a settlement in the Amik Plain, just east of the Amanus mountain range. He sent most of his baggage train south to Damascus, signifying that Darius meant to engage Alexander in battle at that location. Fighting the upcoming battle in the open fields surrounding Sochi would allow Darius to utilize his strong cavalry units to flank and disrupt the Macedonian lines. Upon learning this, Alexander traveled east through the town of Mallus, around the Gulf of Issus, and then south through the Pillar of Jonah. Just south of this area, Alexander stopped his army at the settlement of Myriandrus. The ancient sources are inconclusive in regards to the reasons of his delay, but Alexander and his army encamped themselves just west of the Belen Pass, the southernmost pass through the Amanus range, through which the Persian Royal Road passes (Bosworth 56-59).

At this point, the two armies were at a standstill. Alexander was waiting along the Phoenician coast, hoping to hold the battle in the narrow coastal defiles. Darius was encamped in the fields of the Amik Plain, hoping to lure the Macedonian king into battle there. The next move would prove to be a decisive one that could have possibly decided Alexander’s entire campaign against the Persians. Eventually, it was Darius who decided to move first. He marched his army north through the Bahçe Pass, circled around the Amanus range, then traveled south along the coast before stopping along the northern banks of the Pinarus River. Immediately, Darius’ decision to move away from the wide-open plains surrounding Sochi comes into question. In the narrow coastal defiles, the advantages of the Persian cavalry would be negated, as there would be insufficient land for the horses to maneuver and flank the Macedonian troops. Knowing this, why would Darius decide to march his army north and into the rear of Alexander’s army along narrow coastal lands of Phoenicia? Two very probable theories have been proposed. First, with winter approaching quickly, resources were quickly being depleted. Because that year’s harvest was long completed, Darius would either need to retreat back to Babylon with his army for the winter, which would have consequently surrendered Phoenicia to Alexander, or Darius could make the first move and initiate the battle. Darius chose the latter option, since Alexander would have virtually limitless resources if he were to capture all of the coastal settlements in the region (Devine 1985b: 33; Bosworth 59).

Another explanation of Darius’ decision to abandon his camp in Sochi involves the splitting of Alexander’s army (Murison 420). At one point, Alexander sent Parmenio with a considerable amount of troops to capture the city of Issus and remove any Persians in the region (Curtius 3.7.6). When Darius learned that Alexander’s army was split into two, he hastily marched his men night and day into Cilicia, hoping to cut off the two battalions from one another (Plutarch 329). Unfortunately for the Persian king, Alexander had just as hastily marched his army south down the coastline, believing Darius to still be in the plains near Sochi. Darius did not realize that his plan had failed until he came across the wounded and sick Greek soldiers left behind at Issus (Arrian 111). He mutilated these Greeks, perhaps out of frustration, and decided to position his men on the northern banks of the Pinarus River, awaiting the eventual arrival of Alexander.

Both theories are very probable, as they would explain the otherwise inexplicable movement of Darius from a very advantageous battlefield to one that negates an essential component of his army. Despite this fact, however, Darius was still in a viable position. He was positioned in Alexander’s rear, who did not believe reports that Darius was behind him until he sent his own scouts to witness the Persian army themselves. Darius was also able to set up a strong defensive position, creating a sort of abatis to defend a portion of their riverbanks. His preparations for the oncoming Macedonian army were very sound, lacking any tactical errors.

The numerically superior Persian army was set up in a manner that seemed to depend on the success of their Greek mercenaries, who were positioned near the center of the frontlines. On his flanks, Darius utilized combinations of light infantry and cavalry units. If the Greeks were able to hold their opponents, the Persian cavalry may have been able to flank the Macedonian units, leading to a Persian victory. Unfortunately for Darius, the Persian army’s loss was not a result of inadequate or poor planning on his part. Rather, it was caused by the inexperience of his troops, and the ingenious tactics of his foe, Alexander. Darius’ horsemen were seemingly overwhelmed by the Thessalian and Companion cavalries under Alexander’s direction. Instead, Alexander’s cavalries were able to penetrate into the rear of Darius’ army, causing both the Great King and his remaining troops to rout. Though Darius escaped with his life, many Persians did not. As a result, Alexander was able to systematically capture the entirety of Phoenicia, creating a very strong Macedonian foothold in Asia (Devine 1985a: 49-57).

Not all of the Persian troops present at Issus were decimated. On the contrary, it seems that several generals of Darius, including Amyntas, a Macedonian exile, raised reinforcements and resumed military operations in Asia Minor, on the orders of Darius (Briant 2002: 828-829). Though most of the attempts to recapture settlements were thwarted by the new Lydian governor, Antigonus, this very minute detail portrays an essential detail in Darius strategy. Despite his setback at Issus, he still meant to isolate Alexander in Asia by cutting off his lines to Europe. If the campaigns had been successful, Alexander may have been forced to return to Asia Minor, delaying his advance into the interior of Persia. This extra time would have given Darius the opportunity not only to raise more troops from the fringes of his empire, but also to adequately train them for the inevitable battles against the army of Alexander. However, Darius’ generals were defeated, and Darius was forced to prepare for a grand pitched battle to be unlike any other.

After his defeat at Issus, Darius returned to Babylon and raised a nearly entirely new army. There were very few Greek mercenaries left in his army by this point. Instead, Darius relied heavily on soldiers from his eastern satrapies, including elephants, who may be making their first appearance in a Western battle here (Badian 2000: 258). He also trained his soldiers in a Macedonian fashion, equipping them with sturdy sarissa-like weapons, evident in later piece of art (Badian 1999: 80). Darius learned the importance of the terrain of the battlefield as well. In the weeks leading up to the battle, Darius chose the rocky plains of Guagamela, near the town of Arbela, as his battleground. In an effort to ensure success for the 200 scythe-chariots in Darius’ army, he ordered that the field be cleared of the rocks and boulders that could have possibly hindered them (Devine 1986: 102). The Persian army swelled to about 75,000 soldiers in total, including 25,000 horsemen (Devine 1986: 103). Compared to Macedonian army which comprised of 40,000 infantrymen and only 7,000 cavalrymen, the Persians held a very large advantage leading up to the battle (Arrian 167).

Again, however, Darius’ army was defeated. A major reason is probably due to Darius’ own vigilance and eagerness. On the eve of the battle, Darius kept his men armed and ready for battle throughout the night in case Alexander attempted to attack the Persians in the night. While there may have been reason to believe that Alexander, being vastly outnumbered, may have tried such a task, the overnight watch proved to be completely unnecessary (Badian 2000: 259). As a result, the Persian army was probably exhausted during the battle the next morning. Yet despite this fact, the Persian army fought very well, holding most of the Macedonian line at a standstill, and even breaking through in one instance to the Macedonian camp (Devine 1986: 105). However, Alexander and his Companion cavalry proved to turn the momentum in the favor of the Macedonians. Once his cavalry charge broke through the Persian line, Alexander wheeled about immediately to engage Darius. Once again, Darius fled the battlefield just before being met head-on with the Macedonians. Shortly after Darius’ escape, the remainder of the Persian army turned and fled too, resulting in another major victory for Alexander.

A very important aspect of Darius that has not been touched upon yet, despite it being the focus of numerous historians’ indignation for Darius, is the reasoning behind Darius’ flights from the two battles he commanded. Nylander provides the best logical explanation for Darius’ seemingly cowardly actions (149-153). He claims that Darius, as the Persian king, was seen as an almost god-like figure. For him to have died in battle would guarantee the demise of the Persian Empire. Thus, instead of taking the extremely risky endeavor and engage in combat, Darius fled the battle in order for the Persian Empire to proliferate into the future, as small as it may be. Although no historian will ever be able to know what emotions ran through Darius’ mind in the midst of the battles, special consideration must be taken to ensure that Darius is not quickly labeled as a “coward” if his flights may have actually been attempts to keep the Persian Empire intact.

Darius III certainly is not the “poor despot” or “feeblest of men” that both modern and ancient scholars have made him out to be. His campaign strategies were very logical and, if they had succeeded, would have caused serious, possibly debilitating, problems for Alexander. The fact that Darius’ plans for the most part failed, however, does not necessarily prove that Darius himself is a failure. Rather, it exemplifies the type of military leader Alexander was. Darius III was a very good military commander, who was defeated by a great military genius, Alexander of Macedon.

Bibliography

Anglim, S., et al. Fighting Techniques of the Ancient World 3000 BC – 500 AD: Equipment,Combat Skills and Tactics. New York: Thomas Dunne Books. 2002.

Arrian. The Campaigns of Alexander. Trans. De Sélincourt, A. London: Penguin Books. 1958.

Badian, E. “A Note on the ‘Alexander Mosaic’.” The Eye Expanded. Eds. Titchener, F.B. Moorton, R.F. Berkeley, Los Angeles, & London: University of California Press. 1999. 75-92.

Badian, E. “Darius III.” Harvard Studies in Classical Philology. 100 (2000): 241-267.

Bosworth, A.B. Conquest and Empire: The Reign of Alexander the Great. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 1998.

Briant, P. “The Achaemenid Empire.” War and Society in the Ancient and Medieval World: Asia, the Mediterranean, Europe, and Mesoamerica. Ed. Raaflaub, K. & Rosenstein, N. Washington, D.C.: Center for Hellenic Studies Trustees for Harvard University. 1999. 105-128.

Briant, P. From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire. Trans. Daniels, P. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns. 2002.

Cook, J.M. The Persian Empire. New York: Schocken Books. 1983.

Curtius Rufus, Quintus. The History of Alexander. Trans. Yardley, J. London: Penguin Books. 1984.

Devine, A.M. “Grand Tactics at Guagamela.” Phoenix. 29 (1975): 374-385.

Devine, A.M. “Grand Tactics at the Battle of Issus.” Ancient World. 12 (1985a): 39-59.

Devine, A.M. “The Strategies of Alexander the Great and Darius III in the Issus Campaign.” Ancient World. 12 (1985b): 25-38.

Devine, A.M. “The Battle of Guagamela: A Tactical and Source-Critical Study.” Ancient World. 13 (1986): 87-115.

Diodorus Siculus. Vol. VIII. Loeb Classical Library. Trans. Welles, C.B. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. 1963.

Hammond, N.G.L. “The Kingdom of Asia and the Persian Throne.” Antichthon. 20 (1986): 73-85.

Murison, C.L. “Darius III and the Battle of Issus.” Historia. 21 (1972): 399-425.

Nylander, C. “Darius III – the Coward King: Point and Counterpoint.” Alexander the Great: Reality and Myth. Eds. Carlson, J., et al. Rome: Analecta Romana Instituti Danici. 1993. 145-159.

Olmstead, A.T. History of the Persian Empire. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1948.

Plutarch. Greek Lives. Trans. Waterfield, R. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1998.

Tarn, W.W. Alexander the Great. Cambridge: Ares Publishers. 1948.

Wiesehöfer, J. Ancient Persia. Trans. Azodi, A. London & New York: I.B. Tauris. 1996.

Plato’s and Aristophanes’ Very Different Perspectives of Socrates

Socrates is arguably the most well known individual among ancient Greece’s philosophers. However, not a single teaching or work of Socrates remains today. The legend of Socrates only survives through the works of other classical writers. Most writers, such as Plato and Xenophon, portray Socrates as a wandering philosopher, questioning every aspect of life, and not claiming to know anything for certain. A small minority of writers, however, such as Aristophanes, depict Socrates as a scruffy, hot-tempered teacher who charges fees for his lectures and claims to have an indispensable amount of knowledge on a broad array of subjects. The differences between these two depictions are somewhat obvious, especially when reading Plato’s Protagoras and Aristophanes’ Clouds. A more intriguing question is why each respective writer depicts Socrates as he does, and thus will be looked at closely.

Plato has written numerous works concerning Socrates, with one of these works being Protagoras. The plot of Protagoras revolves around Socrates and a colorful philosophical debate that he engages in with the world-renowned sophist named Protagoras. Sophists are known as being history’s first professors; they initiated the now widespread practice of lecturing to students in exchange for monetary fees. Additionally, sophists were known for challenging traditional values of Greek society, especially religious traditions. These traits of sophists led many traditional citizens to resent these philosophers.

With just these facts regarding sophists, one can already see the manner in which Plato is trying to portray Socrates. Socrates was well known throughout Greece, and especially Athens, as a wise philosopher, but many may have believed him to be a sophist as well. This, however, is not true, at least in Plato’s opinion, and Plato highlights this point by depicting a debate between Socrates and Protagoras.

Protagoras seems to be just as famous as Socrates, perhaps even more so. Socrates’ young friend Hippocrates is shown at the outset of Protagoras to be very excited to visit Protagoras and pay for his tutorship. Hippocrates also appears, however, to be intimidated by the prospect of approaching Protagoras alone, and thus goes to his friend Socrates, hoping that he will talk to Protagoras on behalf of Hippocrates. This request by Hippocrates portrays a certain quality that Socrates attains. Hippocrates, though very admiring of Protagoras, knows that Socrates must at least be close to matching Protagoras’ intellect, for why else would Hippocrates be so intimidated by Protagoras, yet assume that Socrates would not be? For Hippocrates to assume this, Socrates must be known not only for his high intellect, but also for his outgoing and amicable nature. This is proven by the fact that Socrates ultimately agrees to joining Hippocrates to visit Protagoras.

Plato further distinguishes Socrates from the sophists when Socrates questions Hippocrates about why he wants to study under Protagoras. When Hippocrates finally concludes that he does not know what he will come to understand by studying under Protagoras, Socrates replies with: “And watch, or the sophist might deceive us in advertising what he sells, the way merchants who market food for the body do” (Plato 313d). He goes on to state that merchants sell everything they have, without regards to whether the goods are nourishing or detrimental to one’s health. In the same way, sophists may offer large amounts of knowledge and teachings, but not all of the teachings these men provide are beneficial to the soul. This criticism of the sophists displays Socrates’ general distaste for their method of teaching.

After this comment, Socrates and Hippocrates go to see Protagoras, and the two philosophers have their numerous debates that are central to Plato’s work. Socrates seemingly bests Protagoras in each debate the two engage in. Ultimately, Protagoras concedes to Socrates, stating:

Socrates, I commend your enthusiasm and the way you find your way through an argument…Indeed, I have told many people that I admire you more than anyone I have met, certainly more than anyone in your generation. And I say that I would not be surprised if you gain among men high repute for wisdom. (Plato 361d-e)

Protagoras, the world-renowned sophist whom Socrates proclaims as “old and wise” (Plato 318b), concedes that Socrates was the superior debater in their discussions. In addition to this, valuable information about Socrates’ character is revealed in Protagoras’ last remarks of the work. At the time of this event, Socrates is presumably much younger than Protagoras, perhaps in his twenties. With this being the case, Socrates can be comprehended as being very wise beyond his years. Protagoras views him as among the best philosophers of his generation. Socrates is also commended for being an exceptional debater who is unrelenting is his attempts to reveal the absolute truths of the world.

Plato has portrayed Socrates in a very positive manner in Protagoras. He is sharply contrasted with Protagoras, who is himself a sophist. Since sophists were despised by many individuals belonging with conservative values, Socrates, opposing the most popular sophist, would presumably be perceived very positively by these same individuals. Socrates is also portrayed as a good friend, joining his young companion Hippocrates on his undertaking to visit Protagoras, despite the fact that Hippocrates woke him in the early hours of the morning. Why does Plato choose to depict Socrates in this entirely positive way? To answer this question, the life of Plato himself needs to be evaluated.

Plato was born in an aristocratic family in Athens in approximately 427 B.C., a few years after the onset of the Peloponnesian War. Both sides of his family seem to have been well respected in Athens. Many of his family members were distinguished politicians in Athens, including his uncle, Charmides, and great uncle, Critias, who were very important figures in the Athenian government following the Peloponnesian War (Taylor 2). The famed philosopher, Socrates, seems to have been a close acquaintance of Charmides, consequently making the famed philosopher and Plato acquainted with one another for most of Plato’s life. During his teenage and early adult life, Plato became a devout follower of Socrates, though it is believed that Socrates never had official students (Taylor 3). Instead of becoming a philosopher, though, Plato grew up aspiring to become a successful politician in Athens. This goal was destroyed, however, in approximately 399 B.C., when Socrates was put to trail and then executed by an Athenian jury.

Plato felt that Socrates’ execution at the hands of the Athenian state was a great injustice, for Socrates was unfairly charged with corrupting the youth of Athens, and denying the existence of the numerous state gods, such as Zeus and Athena. Though Socrates is later remembered as a martyr for administering the poisonous hemlock to himself after being sentenced to death, Plato remembers his mentor’s death for very different reasons. With Socrates’ death, Plato gave up his aspirations of being a prestigious Athenian politician. He attended Socrates’ trial, and consequently saw firsthand how injustice can often be too prevalent in politics.

After turning down a life in politics, Plato devoted his life to the Academy, an institution of higher learning and education. Plato was expanding on Socrates’ relentless pursuits of attaining the truth. He would now be able to teach the Socratic method to the numerous students of the Academy. The Academy, however, was not the only outlet in which Plato would be able to emulate the efforts of Socrates. Plato would recreate the life of Socrates in his numerous written works concerning his mentor. A selection of the works includes Gorgias, Symposium, the Apology, and Protagoras. In all of Plato’s works concerning Socrates, Plato portrayed his mentor as a wise man who never meant to harm anyone, but rather was amiable and generous. His relentless pursuits of knowledge were to be admired instead of looked down upon, as the jurors who found Socrates guilty did. Plato hoped to portray to all of his readers Socrates as an innocent man who was unjustly and undeservingly put to death at the hands of the Athenian government. For this reason, the Socrates of Plato’s works are generally seen in a very positive manner.

This very amiable view of Socrates is not the only viewpoint that exists. While Plato may give a very positive account of his mentor, the 5^th century playwright, Aristophanes, portrays Socrates in a very different manner. His play, Clouds, tells of a poor, rural Athenian named Strepsiades who attempts to evade paying his numerous debts by attending Socrates’ institution to learn how to argue the “Inferior Argument.” By learning this argument, Strepsiades would supposedly be able to convince any juror that he is not responsible for paying back his debts, despite what the truth may really be.

Throughout Clouds, Socrates is described much like how a sophist would be described. For example, Strepsiades tell his son, Pheidippides, that “for a small fee, (Socrates and his companions) will teach you how to successfully argue any case, right or wrong” (Aristophanes 98-99). Paying a fee for an intellectual lesson was a trait mainly attributed to sophists. Thus, Aristophanes seems to be grouping Socrates into the same group of all other sophists.

Additionally, Socrates is portrayed as a sort of recluse who spends all of his time in his academy (called a Pondertorium by Aristophanes), and thus does not engage in any of the arts or other traditional Athenian activities. Pheidippides calls him a “pasty looking fraud, going around barefoot” (Aristophanes 103). This verbal thrashing of Socrates makes it seem obvious that Aristophanes does not hold much respect for the philosopher, who would have been at the height of his popularity at the time Clouds was performed in the Lenaea festival in the late 5^th century B.C.

Aristophanes goes even further in portraying his general disdain for Socrates. In the following passage, Socrates can be interpreted as saying that he is intellectually superior to all else:

Thus, my mind is suspended to create only elevated notions.

The grains of these thoughts then merge with the similar

atmosphere of this air! If I had remained earthbound

and attempted to scrutinize the heights, I would have found

nothing; for the earth forces the creative juices to be drawn

to its core, depriving one of the all important “water on the brain!” (Aristophanes 229-234)

Although in the context of the play, Socrates is floating above the stage floor in this scene, this short passage may also depict his belief to have a superior intellect compared to all other men. His mind is in such a state that it can “create only elevated notions.” Aristophanes’ depiction of Socrates in this manner may stem from the rumor that the Delphic oracle proclaimed that no one is wiser than Socrates. Socrates was then only able to confirm this notion when he found that every man he questioned in his travels around Greece knew nothing but claimed to know many things, thus making them unwise. Socrates himself was the only man to not only know nothing, but also realize this truth.

Socrates is further portrayed as being offensive and impertinent, very different from how he was presented in Plato’s Protagoras. When Strepsiades gives a very uneducated response to a question posed by Socrates, Socrates bitterly replies, “Oh damn you! You illiterate uneducated peasant” (Aristophanes 646)! This is a stark contrast to the man who fulfilled his friend’s request in Protagoras, despite being woken in the immensely early hours of the morning.

The contrast between the two Socrates’ is therefore fairly obvious. Plato’s version is very pleasant and easily distinguishable from sophists. Aristophanes’ version, however, is very critical and harsh in its portrayal of the renowned philosopher. Why does the playwright Aristophanes depict Socrates in such a negative light? In fact, Clouds depicted Socrates in such a negative manner, the play was used as evidence against Socrates in the trial that resulted in his execution. The reasoning behind Aristophanes motivation is not as clear as it was with Plato. Aristophanes may just be presenting Socrates in this way for comedic purposes. The depiction of Socrates conducting useless experiments to reveal whether the buzz of a gnat comes from its anus or mouth can seem fairly extreme, so there is probably a certain degree of truth to that claim. The main purpose of a comedy was to make the audience laugh at the audacity of the play’s turn of events.

Even if certain aspects of Socrates, such as his inquisitive nature, were exaggerated for comedic purposes, this does not answer the question of why Aristophanes depicts Socrates as a mean-spirited sophist. Peter Meineck, in his introduction to Aristophanes’ Clouds, gives a convincing theory explaining this question (xxxix-xl). He suggests that Aristophanes is probably too intelligent to mistake Socrates as a sophist, and was merely depicting the philosopher as a sophist for mere comedic reasons. Portraying Socrates in such a way could also be seen as a backhanded compliment. In parodying Socrates as he did in Clouds, Aristophanes may be emphasizing merely what he is not, which would be a cranky, fee-charging sophist. If Aristophanes had actually felt resentment toward Socrates, he may have candidly expressed this disdain in the parabasis of the play, where the chorus is able to confront the audience directly. Since this is not the case, Meineck’s theory may be true, but it is impossible to say for sure. For several generations, scholars have accepted the notion that Aristophanes was a strict traditionalist who despised new philosophies and movements, including Socrates’ new method of questioning every facet of human existence. Many scholars may have accepted this notion, however, without fully analyzing the character of Aristophanes. Whatever may be Aristophanes’ true motivation for portraying Socrates as such a scornful man, it can be said with quite certainty that Clouds may have contributed to the death of Socrates. If Aristophanes’ had merely meant for his parody of Socrates to be used as comedy, then the play’s true meaning was clearly misunderstood by the jurors of Socrates’ trial.

Bibliography

Aristophanes. Clouds. Trans. Meineck, P. Indianapolis: Hackett, 2000.

Gagarin, M. “The Purpose of Plato’s Protagoras.” Transactions and Proceedings of the
American Philological Association 100 (1969): 133-164.

Plato. Protagoras. Trans. Lombardo, S. & Bell, K. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1992.

Taylor, A. E. Plato: The Man and his Work. London: Methuen, 1926.

Recognition: Seeing Behind the Disguises of Odysseus

Pallas Athena may be the daughter of the mighty Zeus, and may be a dignified citizen of the legendary Mount Olympus, but the disguise she puts on the Odyssey’s protagonist, Odysseus, did not exactly fool everybody. While Odysseus’ new look as an old, worn out beggar did manage to fool many people in his own household, apparently including his own wife, Penelope, two separate characters on two separate instances do happen to recognize the basileis of Ithaka. These two characters are his old, scruffy dog, Argos, and the senior maid of his estate, Eurykleia. With these two individuals being the rare exceptions, recognition of the wily and battle-tested Odysseus on his return to Ithaka proved to be tough for the residents of the island. Upon deeper examination, however, there may be more than what appears on the surface of the story. How each of these characters go about seeing the true Odysseus may explain why certain characteristics of society exist in Homer’s view, such as kleos, the only things that lives on after a hero dies, and the hierarchical structure of Greek society.

The first obvious scene of recognition occurs in Book XVII of the Odyssey, in which the decrepit Odysseus, led by his swineherd, Eumaios, first approaches the gate of his estate. When an old dog nearby heard the disguised Odysseus speak to his servant, the dog, Argos, pricked up his ears. Despite Odysseus’ divine disguise, the old dog recognized his old master’s voice. Odysseus immediately recognized his old companion, but he could not give away his identity to Eumaios just yet, and had to wipe away a tear in secrecy when he saw the dog’s living conditions.

Treated as rubbish now, he lay at last
upon a mass of dung before the gates—
manure of mules and cows, piled there until
fieldhands could spread it on the king’s estate.
Abandoned there, and half destroyed with flies,
old Argos lay. (17.383-388)

This excellent description gives the reader a very vivid picture of the poor dog’s horrid living conditions. The obvious question for anyone, not excluding Odysseus, would be how the dog’s caregivers could be so negligent in taking care of Argos. Unfortunately for Argos, his owner, Odysseus, went to war in the midst of the dog’s training, and had been believed dead by nearly everyone in the household. Thus, the servants of the house failed to see any point in taking care of a dog for a person they did not foresee returning home. They left the dog out in cold, neglected to continue his training, and gave him a pile of livestock manure to sleep on outside the estate.

Yet despite the twenty years it has been since they have last seen each other, Argos immediately knew Odysseus’ voice the instant the dog heard it.
But when he knew he heard
Odysseus’ voice nearby, he did his best
to wag his tail, nose down, with flattened ears,
having no strength to move nearer his master. (17.389-392)

This passage brings up two very important points. First, the fact that poor Argos did not have enough energy to even greet his old master is proof of his extreme maltreatment. While Argos may have been old, he must have been extremely excited to see and hear his old master after such a long absence. Unfortunately, his aforementioned maltreatment deprived him of the necessary energy to do so.

Second, the dog’s demeanor portrays an important facet of the relationship between Argos and Odysseus. Argos attempted to move toward Odysseus with his “nose down, with flattened ears” (17.391). In other words, Argos may be seen as bowing to his master, as a sign of ultimate respect. This seemingly minor detail exemplifies Odysseus’ kleos, otherwise known as his extremely high reputation. Kleos is a very important aspect in any aspiring hero’s life, for it is what remains of a hero after he dies. Odysseus performed heroically in the Trojan War, second to perhaps only Akhilleus, thus giving him a great deal of kleos. He additionally is an extremely special case, because he attains kleos while he is still alive. All other mortal heroes of Greek mythology needed to die in a heroic manner before attaining kleos. For this extremely rare feat, Odysseus has an aura that demands a great deal of respect from those around him. This is evident when Odysseus’ servants and, more noticeably, his dog finally recognize him. Although Argos may not directly be aware of his master’s deeds in the Trojan War, and although he was only a puppy when he last saw him, Argos definitely notices an aura about his master. This aura can only be described as the kleos of Odysseus.

In terms of the story, the entire scene of recognition between Odysseus and Argos also does two things. It signifies just how much time has passed between Odysseus departure from Ithaka and his return home in the guise of a beggar. When Odysseus left, Argos was still a pup, yet to be taken on his first hunting trip. Upon Odysseus’ return, Argos is extremely old and fragile. In fact, once Odysseus turns away from Argos to enter his household, “death and darkness in that instant closed / the eyes of Argos, who had seen his master, / Odysseus, after twenty years” (17.420-422). This long passage of time is important to keep in mind when attempting to understand later scenes in which characters do not recognize Odysseus, such as his son, Telemakhos. Telemakhos was still an infant when his father left for Troy, yet he is at the brink of adulthood when his father returns. It is therefore not a surprise when he does not recognize his own father. This eventually becomes a major factor when Odysseus attempts to reclaim his rightful place as basileis.

In addition to this, the squalor that Argos lives in gives the reader a sense of the current state of Odysseus’ home. Argos’ care was left in the hands of Odysseus’ servants; thus, Argos’ pitiful state is ultimately their fault. One must keep in mind, however, as to why the servants would ever want to disobey their righteous and caring master, Odysseus. Almost everyone in the household has given up on the belief that Odysseus will one day return. They believe that either he has fallen in the long siege of Troy, or has been lost at sea by the doings of Poseidon. Either way, Odysseus is dead, and his former servants are no longer obliged to carry out his orders. The presence of suitors vying for his wife, Penelope, would certainly have contributed to this notion of a dead Odysseus, since a woman must remarry when, and only when, her husband dies. The servants’ utter disregard of Argos highlights this rampant belief, even if, alas, Odysseus is alive and about to make his presence felt by all.

Besides this seemingly small yet significant incident, Odysseus is recognized against his wishes a second time, this time by one of his most loyal servants, Eurykleia. This woman has lived in the estate for a very long time, and even raised the baby Odysseus many years before. Now in old age, the woman is stricken with grief over the supposed loss of Odysseus. After Odysseus confronts Penelope in the guise of the beggar, Penelope orders Eurykleia to bathe who they think is a beggar. While giving these orders, however, Penelope slips in her speech, almost calling the beggar, “Odysseus”. Whatever the motive behind this slip might be, Eurykleia broke down at the sound of this. “Hearing this, / the old nurse hid her face between her hands / and wept hot tears…” (19.422-424). Homer makes the feelings that Eurykleia has regarding her master’s absence very well known to reader in this passage.

As the old woman begins to bathe the beggar Odysseus, something drastic happens. For all of the work that Athena did to disguise Odysseus, she forgot one major, easily identifiable detail: a scar.

But Lord Odysseus
whirled suddenly from the fire to face the dark.
The scar: he had forgotten that. She must not
handle his scarred thigh, or the game was up.
But when she bared her lord’s leg, bending near,
she knew the groove at once. (19.453-459)

At this point, the reader would probably expect an immediate sense of joy to be felt in the heart of Eurykleia, followed by excited screaming and pent-up emotions finally being released into the open. However, Homer decides to go on a sort of digression here. He continues his epic by telling the reader of an incident in which Odysseus, as a young infant, was placed into the arms of his grandfather, Autolykos, by Odysseus’ nurse, Eurykleia.

Autolykos is then asked to name the child, who he names Odysseus. He also promises to give Odysseus plenty of gifts when Odysseus visits his grandfather later as a young man. The next scene seems to take place when Odysseus is a young man, and travels to the home of his grandfather. Here, Odysseus is lavished with gifts and riches, enjoys a bountiful feast with endless amounts of succulent food, and goes on a grand hunting trip with his grandfather and uncles. It is during this trip that Odysseus receives his ghastly scar, given by the tusk of a charging wild boar. Only after Homer recalls this tale does he shift the focus of the story back to Odysseus’ manor, with Eurykleia discovering the identity of the man she is bathing.

Why does Homer retell this relatively lengthy and detailed account of how Odysseus received his scar? Although no one can truly know Homer’s intent, there are a couple of possible answers. First, the tale gives the reader a sense of what Odysseus’ past was like. Nowhere else in the Odyssey is Odysseus’ life prior to his marriage to Penelope mentioned. He is always depicted as the mature, battle-tested warrior and basileis of Ithaka. In this flashback, however, Odysseus is a young man, perhaps untested in battle. On his hunting trip with his relatives, Odysseus in confronted face-to-face with a wild boar, who viciously rips out a piece of flesh from Odysseus’ thigh. Odysseus, however, being the great hero that he is, still had the presence of mind to severely wound the boar with his spear, killing the wild beast instantaneously. This could be an early glimpse of the potential Odysseus displayed in his youth to one day become the superb warrior he portrays in the Odyssey.

Second, Homer may be portraying the type of relationship Odysseus and Eurykleia have. Eurykleia was Odysseus’ fervently loyal and trustworthy nurse, nursing him in his infancy, serving him in his adulthood, and tending to all his needs every moment in between. Odysseus must have a great deal of respect and empathy for the woman who has been with him for his entire life, and Eurykleia must feel the same for him.

This latter point is at play when the present day events of the Odyssey continue with Eurykleia’s reaction upon recognizing the scar of Odysseus. She is understandably very excited to learn of Odysseus’ return, and immediately turns toward Penelope, who is preoccupied by the mysterious workings of Athena. But upon realizing his discovery, Odysseus quickly grabs Eurykleia by the throat with one hand, grabs her hand with his other hand, and sternly tells her:

Will you destroy me,
nurse, who gave me milk at your own breast?
…You found me out, as the chance was given you.
Be quiet; keep it from the others, else
I warn you, and I mean it, too,
if by my hand god brings the suitors down
I’ll kill you, nurse or not, when the time comes—
when the time comes to kill the other women. (19.560-561,564-569)

Though his response may seem harsh and overly severe, there are facets of Odysseus’ response that portrays his positive regards for Eurykleia. He recalls the fact that she nursed him to remind both him and herself of their strong relationship. The fact that he gives her a warning can be seen in a very positive way when considering the fact that he gave no advanced warning to those women under his service that he had killed for their disloyal behavior with the suitors. Plus, he gives Eurykleia the chance to live, rather than kill her immediately, which would have been the only way to ensure that his identity would have been completely safe. (The only other character to recognize his identity so far was Argos, yet he is now dead. Whether this was a mere coincidence or caused by the gods will never be known.) Yet Odysseus decides to spare her life, trusting her with his very integral secret. If his identity were to be revealed prematurely, it may have cost him his life, making his rough and trying journey back home pointless. Eurykleia, however, kept his secret safe until the time was right, allowing Odysseus to reveal his identity according to his own timetable.

Besides furthering the plot of the storyline, this scene between Eurykleia and Odysseus does a couple of things. The scene displays not only the importance of Eurykleia, but the importance of trustworthy and loyal servants in general. Servants such as Eurykleia, Eumaios, and Philoitios, who were all devoutly loyal to Odysseus, were absolutely necessary to the success of Odysseus’ grand return. If Eurykleia had not kept Penelope and the other servants busy during the final battle against the suitors, the outcome of the battle may have differed. Additionally, if Eumaios and Philoitios has not been present at the battle to assist Odysseus and Telemakhos, a number of unfortunate events may have occurred, such as a suitor warning the village about the attack, the servants receiving more weapons from Melanthios, or a suitor wounding or killing either Odysseus or Telemakhos. Fortunately for Odysseus, his loyal servants were there to assist him in his times of dire straits. Homer may also be highlighting the positive aspects of a hierarchical system, which involves both an upper, elite class, and below them, a servant class. In order for a leader to be effective in maintaining his authority, he needs to assistance of loyal servants around him, just as Odysseus needed the assistance of his loyal servants to regain his household.

A final point that may be brought up regarding the two abovementioned scenes of the Odyssey is why the characters who recognize Odysseus of their own accord are who they are. In other words, why is it that Argos and Eurykleia, characters of lowly statuses, are the ones to recognize Odysseus, while characters of higher status, such as Penelope and Telemakhos, are revealed Odysseus’ identity at his discretion? For an answer to this, one must remember the context and environment that Homer’s Odyssey originated in. Homer composed his epic poems (placed tentatively around 750 B.C.) at a time of social stratification. As in his poems, slaves and servants existed in Homer’s lifetime, as did the aristocratic families who took them in as their property (for not all men of Odysseus’ social status had same genuine and caring character as he did). It must also be remembered that Homer’s works were originally only told orally, and were not written down until many years, perhaps generations, after their conceptions. Thus, one can assume that Homer’s epics were not only for aristocratic and noble men of the Greek society. His poems must have been widely popular with the peasants, servants, and slaves as well. Most of the people in this class of society were not literate, and thus storytelling was one of the most popular forms of entertainment. With this audience in mind, Homer included these loyal, lowly figures of Argos and Eurykleia in the Odyssey, and glorified them for their wily abilities to recognize the disguised Odysseus. Homer, being the loyal supporter of social stratification that he is, assigned the servants very important roles with strong moral messages: act cordially toward beggars, treat a guest properly in accordance with the social customs, and, most importantly, remain loyal to your master, no matter how dire the situation may be. Those who heed these messages from Homer will not only be favored by their masters, but also by the gods sitting atop Mount Olympus. By highlighting the importance of characters such as Eurykleia and Argos, Homer makes a point of just how essential these lowly figures are in the Greek society of their time.