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Summary.

Preface.

Introduction to the Problem.

Three Seeking Harpalus.

Antipater & the Greeks.

Olympias.

Preliminaries to Crisis.

The Failure of Macedonian Authority.

Bibliography.

Index of Citations

General Index

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Athens and Macedonia, in the Absence of Alexander 

Christopher W. Blackwell, edition of July 1, 2005

(Section 1 of 9)

· Summary ·

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(Section 2 of 9)

· Preface ·

The story of Alexander the Great and his career has been told many times, in narrative histories and historical biographies, some written for the general reader and some for professional scholars of ancient history. This book does not attempt to retell that history, nor does it claim to be a full and continuous account of Greek and Macedonian politics during the years of Alexander’s life. Rather than a history of events, it is an analysis of certain specific events involving individual Macedonians, individual Greeks, cities, treaties, and other institutions. It aims to describe the complex relationships between Macedonians and Greeks while Alexander was campaigning in Asia, and in doing so, to explain the crises that arose upon Alexander’s return.

My study’s intended audience are students and scholars of Alexander-history and the history of the 4th century BC generally. I have tried to make my arguments accessible to scholars outside the field of ancient historyall Greek and Latin is translatedbut the book necessarily devotes attention to specific areas of scholarly debate and certain historical problems that may be unfamiliar to the general reader.

My hope is that this study will contribute to the continuing discussion of Alexander’s career, and that it may contribute to our understanding of the transition between the Classical world that produced Alexander, and the Hellenistic world that he helped to shape.

Many people helped me write this study. My friends and colleagues Roy Benke, Craig Gibson and Charles Kaylor provided insight and criticism when it was needed. I owe particular thanks to John Oates and Kent Rigsby of Duke University, Elizabeth Carney of Clemson University, Anne Leen and Richard Prior of Furman University, and Dan Garrison of Northwestern University for their professional wisdom and scholarly advice. My wife, Amy Hackney Blackwell, has shared, inspired, motivated, and supported me throughout. My debt to all of these is immeasurable, and any mistakes, omissions, or weaknesses are mine alone.

Greenville, South Carolina

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(Section 3 of 9)

· Introduction to the Problem ·

In the late spring of 324 BC, Alexander’s treasurer Harpalus fled from Babylon and came to Athens with an entourage of six thousand soldiers. The Athenians at first refused him entry, but when he returned with a smaller retinue he gained admittance as a suppliant. The Athenians confiscated his moneyseveral thousand talentsand held him in custody. Envoys came representing the Macedonian general of coastal Asia Minor, Philoxenus, and demanded that the Athenians surrender the fugitive. These were followed by two other embassies, one from Alexander’s mother Olympias and one from the Macedonian general in Greece, Antipater. These also demanded the treasurer’s extradition, but still the Athenians kept him. Eventually he escaped, rejoined his troops, and was later murdered in Crete by one of his travelling companions. At Athens it was discovered that a portion of the money was missing, and early in 323 BC several prominent Athenians, including the orator Demosthenes, stood trial for having accepted bribes and allowed the man to escape. The surviving speeches from this trial suggest that these events had come to represent not only a domestic scandal, but a crisis for relations between Athens and the Macedonians. Since crisis is the stuff of political history, it is no surprise that the “Harpalus Affair” has often been the occasion for examination of larger historical issues.1 Following in this tradition, the present study will begin with Harpalus and with a specific question, which I hope will lead to a more satisfying account of Macedonian hegemony than has previously been offered: Why did three different Macedonian embassies all fail to secure Harpalus from the Athenians?

No historian has addressed this particular question at any length, although many have mentioned, in passing, the multiplicity of demands.2 In addition to asking an unasked question, I hope to extend this study’s contribution by defining a historical analysis, in its interest and its terms, apart from previous approaches to what we call “Alexander-history”. This term is an appropriate appellation for much scholarship on the history of the Greek world in the 330s and 320s BC. W.W. Tarn’s work on the period portrayed Alexander as a Promethean figure who single-handedly redefined European politics and exerted a civilizing influence on the East.3 F. Schachermeyr’s work has judged Alexander more or less favorably over time, and it is consistent in treating the king as the principal historical referent from 336 to 323.4 Of scholars treating the Harpalus Affair as a pivotal moment in history, Ernst Badian did much to redefine how we assemble historical narratives. His 1961 article in the Journal of Hellenic Studies, “Harpalus”, showed how a careful reading of events at the edges of Alexander’s sphere could lead to new insights into Alexander’s own position and actions; he also advanced a more skeptical view of the structures of Alexander’s empire and attempts to see the king acting legally within a constitutional framework.5 In his 1966 article, “Alexander the Great and the Greeks of Asia”, he concludes: It is therefore pointless to pontificate about legal status and to draw fine distinctions between de jure and de facto situations, in a relationship that was clearly governed by the will of one man.6

Ongoing scholarly interest in relations between the Greeks and “the will of one man” is evident in the titles of subsequent works, such as K. Rosen’s “Der ‘Göttliche’ Alexander, Athen, und Samos”, A.J. Heisserer’s Alexander the Great and the Greeks: the epigraphic evidences, S. Jaschinski’s Alexander und Griechenland unter dem Eindruck der Flucht des Harpalos, and W. Will’s Athen und Alexander: Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der Stadt von 338 bis 322 v. Chr.7

The present study has been greatly influenced, in conception and execution, by the work of Badian and these other scholarsJaschinski’s dissertation being particularly useful as a narrative history and erudite compilation of sources. But the question of Macedonian embassies seeking Harpalus, from which we will begin, immediately calls into question Alexander’s position as organizing principle for events in 324. We can see at once that the king was present in Greece only as a name, and he “acted” in Greece only through intermediaries such as Antipater, Olympias, or Philoxenus, whose actions may have been determined by factors other than the king’s will alone. To compose a credible explanation for the three embassies, we will have to describe a crisis not merely between Athens and Alexander, but among Athenians and the Macedonian actors in a dynamic, and perhaps incoherent, structure.

At the same time, the question of three embassies and the context in which we might answer it cannot be explained entirely in terms of structures or institutions, without reference to individual actors and events. I hope also to approach this history differently from “constitutional” historians of Macedonian affairs, of whom N.G.L. Hammond has been the most prolific representative. His works are valuable and comprehensive sources for Macedonian history and its sources, but they fail, finally, to satisfy as political history. Hammond discusses institutions synchronically and formallylooking across several centuries for definitions of titles, functions of offices, terms of treatiesthen places these institutions in privileged positions relative to the events in which they participate.8 This way of approaching Macedonian history cannot lead to a satisfying explanation of what happened.

An example of the methodological limits of Hammond’s meticulous and expert historiography is his analysis of the Exiles Decree of 324 BC. In that year Alexander announced that all Greek cities must receive and reinstate those whom they had exiled; this announcement seems, at first glance at least, to fly in the face of the oaths of Common Peace sworn by Macedonians and Greeks. But Hammond explains away the apparent discrepency, saying: “Alexander was expressing a wish (διάγραμμα), not issuing an order (διατάγη), and he was addressing it to all Greek states, not just to those which were concerned with restoring exiles to their homeland.” 9 Elsewhere he expands on this: Alexander chose these occasions [an assembly at Susa and the festival at Olympia] because he was addressing his request not to the members of the Common Peace alone, as Tarn and other have supposed, but to all states within his sphere of influence. The announcement was not an ‘order’, as hostile critics suggested (e.g. Hyp. Dem. 18, ἐπιτάγματα) but the starting-point for a dialogue, during which envoys were sent to Alexander, for instance at Babylon (Diod. 17.113.3).10

Hammond’s argument amounts to this: (1) Alexander had no institutional justification for issuing an order, since the oaths of the Common Peace specifically prohibited such meddling in individual states. (2) Furthermore, the Exiles Decree was addressed to all Greek states, not only to members of the Peace. (3) Therefore, the Decree cannot have been an order, but must have been merely a request. Such a strictly institutional interpretation invites inconsistency: “Alexander knew that the Athenians and the Aetolians might go to war, and that in any event their hostility far outweighed the gratitude of the refugees in terms of power politics. But ‘the good purpose’ in his announcement, even if he had to use force, would be to the benefit of the Greek world in the long term.” 11 When we see a “starting-point for a dialogue” backed by threats of force, we must surely subordinate considerations of institutional propriety to an apprehension of events. It is impossible to see the Decree as anything other than an order, with dire consquences promised to any who would disobey. That Alexander had no formal justification for issuing such a Diktat to the Greeks tells us less about the nature of the Decree than about the value, at this point in Alexander’s history, of formal treaties and understandings between the King and the Greeks.

Hammond’s argument on the Exiles Decree fails to satisfy because the fixed and formal terms of the Common Peace are held in a privileged position over unfolding events. Institutions inform events but do not necessarily determine them. There is no need to conclude, of course, that institutions are not meaningful or that they do not affect events. Rather, an institution’s meaning and import will change as its context changesjust as the significance of the Common Peace changed by the time Alexander disregarded it altogether with his Exiles Decree (or at least at the moment of his public disregard). In short, where Hammond’s history of Macedonia is largely the history of Macedonian institutions, the present study will call these institutions into question. It will assume a treaty, Peace, or office to be meaningful not only according to the terms of its definition, but also according to its participation in events, whether its terms are in fact realized in the course of events or are utterly dissonant with what we find happening.

An approach focusing on Alexanderor on Demosthenes, or the “Lamian War”, or any other single actor or event12would be too specific, too limited to immediate causation, for our question of Macedonian embassies; an institutional approach, by the same token, would be too broad, and too inconsiderate of changing circumstances. The embassies to Athens represented Macedonia, in one sense, but three individual Macedonians in another. Furthermore, each failed in its mission. It is clear that an explanation of this event must interrogate not only the relationship between Athens and Alexander, but also the organizational structure of “Macedonia”, the interrelations among its principal agents, and their relationships (individual and collective) to the Athenians and other Greeks. Such an inquiry must take into account events both immediate and remote, as well as how formal institutions were constituted and how they developed. It will require a specific vocabulary.

The Harpalus Affair must suggest the terms of our approach. We should note first that there was no obvious, concrete, and proximate result of the Harpalus Affair, at least in terms of Athens and the Macedonians. The Athenians held a domestic criminal trial, six months later, at which much was made of the potential consequences of Harpalus’ arrival, arrest and escape, but as we will see, these consequences were never realized. The next “event” to involve both Athenians and Macedonian was the “Lamian” war, but it followedand should be said to have been “caused” byAlexander’s death in June 323. So to find what was “critical” about the Harpalus Affair, both in the eyes of participants and retrospectively from the historian’s point of view, we need to look for something that is more elusive than an event but still a fundamental moment in the course of events.

We find it with the embassies themselves. An embassy represents the authority of the sender, and so these failed Macedonian embassies represent a failure of Macedonian authority. A failure of authority seems odd given Macedonian power in 324. By that time Alexander’s conquests had extended from Thebes to the Punjab, Macedonians controlled the vast resources of Persia and Egypt, the general Antipater had led a Macedonian army to quell all open resistance to Macedonian hegemony in Europe, and Alexander himself was, after four years’ absence on his eastern campaigns, once again active in the affairs of Europe. In other words, it is surprising that Macedonia’s authority failed at this moment when Macedonian hegemony was so powerful. Accordingly, we will try to explain the embassies who sought Harpalus in terms of hegemony, power, and authority.

Some discussion of these terms is in order. First of all, these three words are abstractions, concepts, not “things” per se. When we look at historical sources we find actors and events, and these actors and events are necessarily specific; it is only when we narrate history that we must invoke certain abstract concepts as part of the vocabulary that makes historiography intelligible. Conceptswar, revolution, the middle class, or for our purposes, hegemony, power, and authorityare as necessary and useful as they are potentially misleading. As Paul Veyne has said, history is not composed of hapax legomena, but “is the description of the individual through universals, which, by right, raises no difficulty.” 13 These concepts can, of course, lead to misunderstandings when applied indiscriminately across a broad period of time (such as applying the term “family” at once to something Roman and to something of twentieth-century America); but despite their inherent tendency toward anachronism abstract concepts are the means by which we may refine our explanation of historical events, toward more and more satisfactory narratives. This study hopes to contribute to the history of Greece and Macedonia, from 335 to 323 BC, by fitting a narrative history to an explicit conceptual framework.

There can be no doubt that Alexander’s Macedonia occupied a central position in the politics of Greece from 335 to 323 (and beyond). In 330 BC Demosthenes defended himself against Aeschines by invoking a pervasive Macedonian influence: “Aeschines, if you can name any person under this sun, Greek or barbarian, who remains unharmed by the dominance of Philip, first, and now of Alexander… well, so be it” (εἰ μὲν γὰρ ἔχεις, Αἰσχίνη, τῶν ὑπὸ τοῦτον τὸν ἥλιον εἰπεῖν ἀνθρώπων ὅστις ἀθῷος τῆς Φιλίππου πρότερον καὶ νῦν τῆς Ἀλεξάνδρου δυναστείας γέγονεν, τῶν Ἑλλήνων τῶν βαρβάρων, ἔστω ) (Dem. De Cor. 270). Macedonia’s “dominance”, its δυναστεία, we may call “hegemony”. The term’s etymology implies leadership, and its English usage, power. While the Macedonians certainly did not lead a willing Greece along the course of a coherent policy, even a cursory examination of politics during Alexander’s career shows political initiative to have rested with Macedonia. The weight of ancient evidence suggests that when Greek states acted “internationally” in the period 335 to 323, more often than not they did so in reaction to Macedonia. As far as “power” is concerned, from Philip’s victory at Chaeronea in 338 until the Lamian War that followed Alexander’s death, the πόλεις of Greece, singly or in alliance, could never match the resources commanded by Macedonians (although, as we will see, there were times when perilously few of those resources were available to the Macedonians in Europe).

“Power” is a generic term, which must be distinguished from the more specific term “authority”. Mark Philip’s definition is simple and appropriate: “[Power] describes those relationships in which one agent is able to get another to do what he or she would not otherwise have done.” 14 Power takes many forms and appears variously in the histories of Alexander and his time. Alexander enjoyed military power and delegated a portion of it to his general Antipater; he in turn used the coercive power afforded him by his army in Greece to install friendly governments and forestall concerted action against Macedonia. Demosthenes, Hyperides, and other Athenian orators demonstrated powers of persuasion that at different times affected the course of events differently. Harpalus himself wielded a certain amount of power by virtue of his mercenary following and the money purloined from Alexander’s treasury. All this is not in itself particularly interestingafter all, only those with some degree of power become actors in political histories. More interesting, and the focus of this study, is the particular manifestation of power that we call authority.

Authority is a kind of power, but not all power is authoritative.15 Authority is a matter of speaking; it is a “discursive function”.16 Authority describes the ability to command effectively, for even when we speak of someone “acting” authoritatively, we actually mean “causing others to act by virtue of one’s authoritative speech”.17 As such, authority implies an asymmetry in the relationship between speaker and listener. Because authority demands obedience, it is associated with coercive power, and because it operates in discourse, it is associated with persuasive power. Yet these associations are uneasy. The command, Don’t move or I’ll shoot is discursive and demands obedience, but while it shows that the speaker is in a position of power, it does not suggest a position of authority. Likewise, a well-argued case may effect its desired result, but argument presupposes a certain equality between speaker and listener. Authoritative speech relies for its effect on the identity of the speaker, her or his relationship with the audience, and their perception of her.18 Coercion and persuasion may support this relationship, as the listeners assume either that dire consequences will result from disobedience, or that there must be good reasons for obedience, reasons which could be given. But for us to see authority in action, both coercion and persuasion must remain in the background, occulted, to use Bruce Lincoln’s word. If the listener demands a reason for a command or asks about the consequences of disobedience, the speaker’s authority falters. At this point authority may give way to persuasion (if the speaker argues in favor of the command), or naked force (if the speaker threatens), or it may be reasserted by invoking the privileged, authoritative position of the speaker: Because I said so! 19

Authority can arise in various guises, and it is this concept that will allow us to evaluate individuals and events in terms of larger structures, and vice versa. A formal office or title can elevate its holder, in the eyes of an audience, to a position of authority; we may call this institutional authority. Related to institutional authority is what we may call traditional authority, in which a speaker enjoys authority by virtue of past exercisesa former president retains authority despite having left his authorizing office; an orator who has spoken persuasively many times in the past may slip from argument to authoritative speech as the audience increasingly responds to the person rather than the logic. And there is what Max Weber described as “charismatic” authority, enjoyed by “holders of specific gifts of the body and spirit”.20 Weber describes a person who is granted authority by a specific audience under specific circumstances; this authority depends on and is limited to a conjunction of personality, mission, and on occasion a presumption of divinity (or at least divine favor). While we will in the course of this investigation elaborate upon how the types of authority obtain in the history of Macedonian hegemony, for now it will be enough to note, by way of example, that Alexander himself enjoyed many kinds of authority at different times: as acclaimed leader, primus inter pares, of the Macedonians, as ἡγεμών of the Common Peace in Greece, as Great King in Persia, and as an earthly divinity at first to the Egyptians (who were used to such things) and later to many Greeks.21 Other Macedonians also held authority, at various times, either by association with Alexander or according to their own abilities and positions, as we will see.

Having made these distinctions, we should return to the point of departure. The first step will be to justify the question. The next chapter (II) will examine the Harpalus Affair, with a particular interest in the extent to which it seemed critical (to contemporary participants) and the role played by the Macedonian embassies to Athens. Since whatever transpired at Athens in the summer of 324 BC can be intelligible only in the context of preceding developments in Greece, we will turn from Harpalus to a discussion of Macedonian hegemony, its basis, its organization, and its principal actors, from 335 until 324. This examination will take the form of three chapters, devoted respectively to the στρατηγός Antipater and his management of Macedonia and Greece from 335 to 330 (III), to Alexander’s mother Olympias and her position in Macedonian and Greek affairs to 330 (IV), and to political developments in Greece from 330 until the arrival of Harpalus at Athens in the early summer of 324 (V). Having returned to Harpalus, we will be in a position to describe the crisis for a second timethis time from the historian’s perspective, as opposed to a contemporary oneby placing it in a context of hegemony and authority and by examining subsequent developments thereof. And so the final chapter (VI) will consist of a reevaluation of Harpalus and discussion of events from early summer 324 until Alexander’s death in June of 323 BC. This examination of actors and structures during Alexander’s career will suggest an answer to the problem of the Macedonian envoys.

Between 335 and 324 BC, the voices of Olympias and Antipater had become less and less coincident with Alexander’s; thus what authority they enjoyed in Greece as extensions of Alexander’s will diminished. Furthermore, the institutional basis for Antipater’s authority, the Common Peace, had been weakened during Alexander’s absence. Olympias separated herself from Antipater by moving from Pella to Epirus, which more clearly defined her own position but further diffused any monolithic “Macedonian” presence in Greece. So by 324, the Macedonia that had once consisted of Alexander, a common treaty-organization with the Greeks, and a single army, had fragmented; the most considerable site of authority, Alexander and his army, was far away in Susa. The Macedonians in immediate contact with the Greeks represented that authority only to a degree, and to an unpredictable one at that. While the embassies to Athens could, and probably did, invoke Alexander’s name when demanding Harpalus, the Athenians were forced to wager publicly on the extent to which ostensible authority of individual Macedonians represented Alexander’s power. This was the nature of the crisis at Athens: each embassy could claim Alexander’s authority, but no one’s claim was unequivocal in light of recent history. The embassies failed because the Athenians chose to acknowledge none of them as an extension of Alexander’s authority. They got away with it, and the nature of the crisis from a historiographical perspective follows: the Athenians’ de facto assertion that only Alexander could speak for Alexander exposed the impotence of the Macedonian presence in Greece. The events that followed, until Alexander’s death in June of 323, can be seen as attempts to reassert an effective Macedonian authority in Europe, but these attempts were not successful. The embassies who sought Harpalus called the question of Macedonian authority, and showed Macedonian hegemony in Greece to be hollow.

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Note 1

See especially: C.D. Adams (1901); A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914); A. Körte (1924); G. Colin (1925); W.W. Tarn (1927a); W.W. Tarn (1948); E. Badian (1961); S. Jaschinski (1981); N.G. Ashton (1983); W. Will (1983); I. Worthington (1992).

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Note 2

G. Colin (1925) 328; H. Berve (1926) 2.79, 139; G. Colin (1934) 9; P. Cloché (1957) 268; E. Badian (1961) 31 and n.108, 36; J.A. Goldstein (1968) 38; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 138; P. Green (1970) 252; L. Tritle (1988) 119; W. Will (1983) 121; R. Sealey (1993) 256. Of these, only Badian seems to find the three unsuccessful embassies particularly curious. I. Worthington (1984a), has argued that there were not, in fact, three embassies; we will address his argument in the subsequent chapter.

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Note 3

W.W. Tarn (1921); W.W. Tarn (1948); and his chapters in CAH (1927) vol. 6; cf. more recently, the discussion of Alexander’s last plans at A.B. Bosworth (1988) 167-173.

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Note 4

F. Schachermeyr (1949); F. Schachermeyr (1970); F. Schachermeyr (1973).

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Note 5

E. Badian (1961). Cf. E. Badian (1966); E. Badian (1967); E. Badian (1994).

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Note 6

E. Badian (1966) 39.

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Note 7

K. Rosen (1978); A.J. Heisserer (1980); S. Jaschinski (1981); W. Will (1983).

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Note 8

Cf. especially, N.G.L. Hammond (1989); N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988).

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Note 9

N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 233.

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Note 10

N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988), 80-81; cf. W.W. Tarn (1927) 451.

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Note 11

N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 233-234.

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Note 12

Of course, there has been much scholarly work on the roles played in events by individual Athenians, and on the immediate causes of particular events. For Demosthenes, cf. (for example): A. Schäfer (1887); R. Sealey (1993). For a detailed analysis of the background to the Lamian War, cf. O. Schmitt (1992).

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Note 13

P. Veyne (1971) 128. His discussion of theories, types, and concepts (ibid. 117-143) is invaluable.

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Note 14

M. Philip (1985) 74. Cf. M. Foucault (1982) 220.

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Note 15

Unlike “hegemony”, which comes directly from Greek, and “power” which is readily translated by the Greek du/namis, “authority” is alien to Greece. Dio Cassius says, regarding the Latin auctoritas, “it cannot by translated into Greek by a single word” (e(llhni/sai ga\r au)to\ kaqa/pac a)du/nato/n e)sti) (55.3). Hannah Arendt, in her genealogy of authority, argues from this that “authority” itself is inapplicable to ancient Greece and its political systems. H. Arendt (1961) 104: “Neither the Greek language nor the varied political experiences of Greek history shows any knowledge of authority and the kind of rule it implies.” While the meaning of authority that we will apply to the Macedonia and the Greeks depends on Arendt’s discussion, we need not follow her in confusing etymology with meaning. Nor need we hesitate to use the term to describe a culture that was itself ignorant of it.

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Note 16

For this term, and for twentieth-century ideas of authority generally, see B. Lincoln (1994) 2-11.

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Note 17

Cf. C.F. Friedrich (1954) 312.

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Note 18

D.H. Garrison has pointed out that this interrelationship between speaker and audience is intrinsic in the Augustan ideal of auctoritas (cf. the imagery at Verg. Aen. 1.148-153).

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Note 19

H. Arendt (1961) 94; B. Lincoln (1994) 5-6.

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Note 20

H.H. Gerth and C.W. Mills (1946) 246, translated from M. Weber (1922) 753-757.

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Note 21

Cf. A. Stewart (1993) 85-86.

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(Section 4 of 9)

· Three Seeking Harpalus · · Introduction to the Crisis ·

We are trying to answer the question, Why did three Macedonian embassies all fail to secure Harpalus from the Athenians?, and so this first chapter of argument will found and justify that question by (1) describing briefly the background to Harpalus’ flight, (2) narrating the events of the “Harpalus Affair” and setting out a chronology for them, (3) discussing the evidence for the Macedonian envoys who came to seek Harpalus, and (4) discussing in what way and to what extent the Harpalus Affair was a crisis for the Athenians. By the end of this chapter, I hope to have shown not only that three embassies came to Athens, but also that Athenian anxieties regarding Alexander’s treasurer focused on this multiplicity of demands.

· Background to Harpalus’ Flight ·

Harpalus had been Alexander’s companion since his youth and had even gone into exile with him after the Pixodorus Affair.22 Harpalus was physically unfit for service in the army, but when Alexander assumed leadership in Macedonia he put the man in charge of the treasury (Arr. 3.6.5-6).23 Shortly before the battle of Issus, in 333 BC, Harpalus left his post and went to Megara for a year with a man named Tauriscus, after which he returned to his office in Asia (Arr. 3.6.7; Plut. Alex. 41.4). Arrian describes the affair as a “flight” or “exile” (φυγή ) (3.6.3), and Tauriscus as a “bad man” (κακὸς ἀνήρ) who persuaded (ἀναπεισθείς ) Harpalus away (3.6.7), thus leading most scholars see these events as precursors to Harpalus’ later, more famous, and more consequential flight.24

Because Harpalus returned so easily to his powerful position, it is also possible that his “flight” was actually a mission for Alexander.25 B.M. Kingsley offers a persuasive argument that Harpalus went to Megara in order to facilitate Alexander’s distribution of grain to his supporters among the Greeks.26 During his stay in the Megarid Harpalus developed ties with several prominent Athenians, among them Phocion and Charicles (Diod. 17.108.6; Plut. Phoc. 21-22). Plutarch says that these two Athenians provided for Harpalus’ orphaned daughter after his death in 324 or 323 (Plut. Phoc. 22.1). He may even have been granted Athenian citizenship for his service to the city, if we can believe a satyr play (the Agēn) quoted by Athenaeus (13.586d):27

And I hear that Harpalus sent tens of thousands of medimnoi of grain to themno less than Agēn’s giftand that he became a citizen. καὶ μὴν ἀκούω μυριάδας τὸν Ἅρπαλον αὐτοῖσι τῶν Ἀγῆνος οὐκ ἐλάσσονας σίτου διαπέμψαι καὶ πολίτην γεγονέναι. The only evidence we have concerning Harpalus’ official works between his return to Asia and his final flight comes from Curtius and Diodorus, who say that in 326 he sent 12,000 men and 25,000 panoplies to Alexander in India (Cur. 9.3.21; cf. Diod. 17.108.9).28 There is, however, more evidence for Harpalus’ personal life in Tarsus while Alexander was campaigning to the east. Diodorus says that “he doubted that Alexander would return” (ἀπέγνω τὴν ἐπάνοδον αὐτοῦ ), that he lived extravagantly at Alexander’s expense, and particularly that he spent lavish sums on the Athenian ἑταῖραι Pythonicē and Glycera (Diod. 17.108.4-6; Curt. 10.1.45; Athen. 586b-d = FGrH 137 F 30, 594d-596a).29

· Harpalus’ Flight, Arrest, and Escape30  ·

By the end of 325 BC, Alexander had emerged from the Gedrossian desert and reached Carmania; he reached Susa in early 324 (Arr. 6.27.3; Curt. 9.10.20).31 During the winter of 325/4 Alexander began to purge his Asian territories of officials who had misbehaved during his absence. The sources tell of eleven such executions and several other men of rank who either died or disappeared from their posts.32 Harpalus was in Babylon, only a few hundred miles from Susa, and so must have heard of Alexander’s mood quickly.33 He fled from Babylon early in 324 and took with him 5,000 talents from the treasury; upon reaching the Aegean coast in mid-March (or possibly on his journey there), he collected an entourage of 6,000 mercenaries and crossed the sea with them in thirty ships (Diod. 17.108.6; Curt. 10.2.1).34

In early February, shortly after Harpalus had fled, Alexander announced at Susa his “Exiles Decree”ordering the Greek states to reenfranchize their political exilesand Nicanor was dispatched to bring the decree to Greece (Arr. 6.27.3; Curt. 10.1.1).35 From Susa to the coast was a journey of at least three months, and probably took Nicanor, traveling in state, somewhat longer. He was to promulgate the decree at the Olympic festival, which was to take place from July 31 to August 4 of 324.36 He probably reached Greece at the beginning of June.

We know that Harpalus first crossed the Aegean after Nicanor’s arrival in Greece. Hyperides says (In Dem. 18): Harpalus fell upon Greece so quickly that everyone was surprised; and he found the affairs in the Peloponnese and the rest of Greece in this state because of Nicanor’s arrival and the orders which he had brought with him from Alexander, orders concerning the exiles and the leagues of the Achaeans and Arcadians and Boeotians. [Ἅρπαλος οὕτως ἐξαίφνης] πρὸς τ[ὴ]ν Ἑλλάδα προσέπ?[ε?]σεν, ὥστε μηδένα προαισθέσθαι· τὰ d*) ἐν Πελοποννήσῳ καὶ τῇ ἄλλῃ Ἑλλάδι οὕτως ἔχοντα κατέλαβεν ὑπὸ τῆς ἀφίξεως τῆς Νικάνορος καὶ τῶν ἐπιταγμάτων ὧν ἧκεν φέρων par*) Ἀλεξάνδρου περί τε τῶν φυγάδων καὶ περὶ τοῦ τοὺς κοινοὺς συλλόγους Ἀχαιῶν τε καὶ Ἀρκά[δ]ω?ν καὶ Β]ο?ι?[ω?]τ?ῶ?[ν ? ? ? ? ?37

We also know that Harpalus must have come before the end of July. The first time Harpalus, with his whole fleet, reached Sunium he was denied admittance (Curt. 10.2.1; Diod. 17.108.7; Plut., Mor. [Vit. X Or.] 846a). He then sailed to Taenarum in the Peloponnese, left most of his mercenaries there, and “became a suppliant to the Athenian people” (ἱκέτης ἐγένετο τοῦ δήμου ) (Diod. 17.108.6). This time he was admitted by Philocles, who was “general of Munichia and the shipyards” (στρατηγὸς ἐπὶ τὴν Μουνιχίαν καὶ τὰ νεώρια ) (Din. In Phil.; I.G. II2 1631, 380-384).38 W.B. Dinsmoor has shown that the archon-year 325/4, the year in which Philocles held his office, was intercalary, and so ended on July 21, 324.39 So Harpalus must have appeared at Athens in late June or early July, 324.40

Harpalus’ first attempt to enter Athens seems to have startled and frightened the Athenians. An officer of Alexander seeking admittance as a private citizen would itself have been a strange enough occurrence to give people pause;41 one arriving with an army and a fleet, at a time when Athens was divided in its sympathies toward Alexander, must have seemed more ominous yet.42 Even when Harpalus returned with only two ships and 700 talents,43 Philocles may have admitted him against the orders of the assembly (Din. Phil. 1-2).44 Once Harpalus had entered the city, he became the focus of a dispute between parties and over issues that it is our purpose to explain over the course of this study. For the sake of a narrative sketch, it will suffice to say that the Athenians were confused regarding what to do with Harpalus. Demosthenes persuaded them to immure the errant treasurer for the time being, and to keep his money on the acropolis (Hyp. In Dem. 8).

While Harpalus was in Athens, Demosthenes was appointed ἀρχεθέωρος, Athens’ representative to the Olympic festival (Din. In Dem. 82; Hyp. In Dem. 19). He went west to the games, presumably to discuss with Nicanor the Exiles Decree and the related question of Athens’ cleruchy on Samos.45 In the first half of August, Demosthenes returned from Olympia, and Harpalus escaped from Athens (Diod. 17.108.7).46 When this news came out, it was also discovered that half of his money had disappeared. Demosthenes was under suspicion (Hyp. In Dem. 12; Plut. Phoc. 21; Athen. 8.342f), but himself proposed that the council of the Areopagus investigate the matter and issue a report (Din. In Dem. 4; Hyp. In Dem. 1). The Areopagus inquired into the matter for six months (Din. In Dem. 45), and finally released a report blaming several people for having taken bribes.47 Demosthenes was among them, as was the orator Demades;48 the subsequent trial, in March of 323 BC, that gives us our two priceless, if sadly deficient, contemporary sources for the Harpalus affair, the speeches that Hyperides and Dinarchus wrote against Demosthenes.49

· The Macedonian Embassies ·

I have so far skipped over the Macedonian demands for Harpalus’ extradition. These demands and the envoys who brought them to Athens are the focus of this study and so require special attention. The remainder of this chapter will treat the number of embassies, whom they represented, how they fit into our chronology, and what role they played in elevating the Harpalus Affair from an incident to a crisis.

The least equivocal evidence tells us that one Philoxenus demanded Harpalus’ extradition. Plutarch says that once Harpalus was in Athens, “suddenly Philoxenus appeared on the scene” (ἐξαίφνης ἐπεφάνη Φιλόξενος ) (Mor. [De Vit. Pud.] 531a). C. Adams was among the first modern historians to doubt, despite the passage in Plutarch, that Philoxenus arrived in person; Adam’s contrary view is based on conficting evidence from one of our eyewitness accounts (Hyp. In Dem. 8):50

…for when, Jurors, Harpalus came to Attica and those from Philoxenus who were demanding him back were likewise introduced to the Assembly… …ἐπειδὴ γὰρ ἦλθεν ἄνδρες δικασταὶ Ἅρπαλος εἰς τὴν Ἀττικὴν καὶ οἱ παρὰ Φιλοξένου ἐξαιτοῦντες αὐτὸν ἅμα προσήχθησαν πρὸς τὸν δῆμον

Appearing before this assembly, according to Hyperides, were representatives from Philoxenus (οἱ παρὰ τοῦ Φιλοξένου ἐξαιτοῦντες αὐτὸν ) and not the man himself.51

But who was Philoxenus? The author of the Plutarchan Moralia calls him τῶν ἐπὶ θαλάττῃ πραγμάτων Ἀλεξάνδρου στρατηγός , “general of affairs at sea” (Mor. [De Vit. Pud.] 531a). Polyaenus (Strat. 6.49) calls him Ἀλεξανδρου βασιλέως ὕπαρχος Ἰωνίας , “the King Alexander’s Satrap of Ionia”. Berve calls him satrap of Caria, on the strength of Arrian 7.23.1, in which Philoxenus meets Alexander at Babylon in 323, στρατίαν ἄγων ἀπὸ Καρίας, “leading an army from Caria”.52 There is ample evidence that this Philoxenus was a rather important figure in the military structure of Alexander’s Asian territories. When Harpalus had returned from his year’s absence in the Megarid a decade earlier, 333 BC, Alexander assigned Philoxenus to collect taxes west of the Taurus mountains (τῆς Ἀσίας τὰ ἐπι τάδε τοῦ Ταύρου ἐκλέγειν ) and moved Harpalus into Philoxenus’ former position (Arr. 3.6.7).53 There is other evidence bearing on Philoxenus’ involvement with Harpalus, which seems to have been energetic. Pausanias (2.33.4) says that after Harpalus escaped from Athens Philoxenus chased him and his men all over the Aegean, finally seizing Harpalus’ paymaster (διοικητής ) at Rhodes. So Philoxenus was in Alexander’s good graces from 333 until 323; he was possibly satrap of Caria, and certainly a commander of forces near the western coast of Ionia with authority over a fleet. As such, he would have known of Harpalus’ flight as soon as anyone and would have been in an excellent position to act. Since Harpalus’ initial, failed, attempt to enter Athens with his entire entourage must have taken at least a few weeks, we can easily imagine Philoxenus dispatching representatives by sea who would have arrived in time to come before the people at the same time (ἅμα ) as Harpalus.

Philoxenus is not the only Macedonian mentioned in connection with Harpalus’ flight to Athens. Diodorus refers to Harpalus ἐξαιτούμενος δὲ ὑπ?̓ Ἀντιπάτρου καὶ Ὀλυμπιάδος , “demanded by Antipater and Olympias” (17.108.7). Plutarch, too, says this in his account of Demosthenes’ involvement with Harpalus (Mor. [Vit. X Or.] 846b): And when [Harpalus] sailed in, bringing a thousand Darics, [Demosthenes] changed sides. And when the Athenians wanted to surrender the man to Antipater, Demosthenes opposed the idea, and moved that they store away the money on the Acropolis, but he did not tell the people how much money there was. ἐπειδὴ d*) εἰσέπλευσε λαβὼν Δαρεικοὺς χιλίους μετετάξατο· βουλομένων t*) Ἀθηναίων Ἀντιπάτρῳ παραδοῦναι τὸν ἄνθρωπον ἀντεῖπεν, ἔγραψέ t*) ἀποθέσθαι τὰ χρήματα εἰς ἀκρόπολιν μηδὲ τῷ δήμῳ τὸν ἀριθμὸν εἰπόντα·

So according to our evidence, some combination of Antipater, Olympias, and Philoxenus sought Harpalus’ extradition. Hyperides mentions only Philoxenus; Plutarch mentions Philoxenus at Mor. [De Vit. Pud.] 531a and Antipater at Mor. [Vit. X Or.] 846b; and Diodorus mentions Antipater and Olympias (17.108.7).

These sources do not appear to be consistent, and modern scholarship has reached no agreement on a solution, although the question has been addressed specifically only once.54 An uneasy majority accept the sum of the sources, believing that Antipater, Olympias, and Philoxenus each sent embassies to Athens requesting the surrender of Harpalus. But even among those who agree on three embassies, there are differing explanations of why three, and why these three.55 Some have seen little significance in the fact, agreeing with G. Colin: “le fait sûr est que les autorités macédoniennes, comme il était naturel, réclament énergiquement sa livraison.” 56 P. Green thinks that the multiple demands for Harpalus contributed to the debate among the Athenians.57 Others complicate the problem by suggesting that either Olympias or Antipater or both were acting on their own initiative in this matter.58 And the most suggestive statement on the subject comes from Badian, who seems to link (at least temporally) Antipater’s involvement in the Harpalus affair with Alexander’s eventual request that Craterus take over as “Regent” of Greece: When Harpalus appeared in Athens, Antipater asked for his extradition, as did his enemy Olympias andclearly going outside his own province into Antipater’sPhiloxenus. The multiplicity of demands is interesting, but was self-defeating. It was soon followed by the order for Antipater’s supercession andsomewhere in these months, though we cannot tell whereAntipater’s firm disapproval of Alexander’s plans for deification.59

Badian’s suggestion was an important impetus for the present work, but before pursuing it further, it is necessary to see differing opinions on the Macedonian envoys and address the difficulties presented by our fragmentary and contradictory sources.

R. Sealey agrees that Philoxenus, Antipater, and Olympias were involved, but believes that the latter two issued their demand jointly.60 K. Beloch, despite the best evidence to the contrary, does not mention Philoxenus at all, only Antipater and Olympias.61 C. Mossé thinks that Antipater alone issued a demand, and Jaschinski mentions only Philoxenus.62

We should note that all of these scholars’ interests lay elsewhere, that the Macedonian envoys were incidental to their studies. The only argument specifically devoted to the Macedonian requests for Harpalus is Ian Worthington’s 1984 article in the Liverpool Classical Monthly, in which he argues that there were no envoys from Antipater and Olympias.63 Worthington points out that our eyewitnesses, Hyperides and Dinarchus, mention no one other than Philoxenus. Further, he says, “since the prosecution [Hyperides and Dinarchus] was out to create as much prejudice against Demosthenes as possible, it is very unlikely that envoys from other Macedonians would not be mentioned.” And he concludes: In this case, it is better to rely on the first-hand evidence of Hypereides (who, we should imagine, would have been more prone to falsify facts and employ rhetorical exaggeration) rather than Plutarch or Diodorus. Plutarch supplies two names at different parts in the Moralia: he cannot be read with certainty when stating that Philoxenus himself came to Athens (531a), and probably named Antipater later (846b) since, as regent of Greece, he would be the logical person to receive Harpalus. This last point may well have been Diodorus’ reason for including Antipater, but demands from Olympias are even more questionable. Therefore it is plausible to assume that Philoxenus alone sent demands for the surrender of Harpalus.64

The problem of Hyperides’ and Dinarchus’ silence is real, and before continuing to build a historical structure on the basis of three embassies, we need justification for doing so. The argument against three envoys stands on three propositions:

1. That the scattered references in Plutarch’s Moralia are inconsistent and therefore untrustworthy. 2. That Diodorus’ inclusion of Olympias is unlikely, and this calls into question his reference to Antipater as well. 3. That Hyperides mentions only Philoxenus, when we would expect him to mention as many Macedonians as possible, even if he had to invent them. We may examine these individually, moving from the least to the most fundamental objection to three Macedonian embassies.

Plutarch says (Mor. [De Vit. Pud.] 531a) that Philoxenus appeared in person: ἐξαίφνης ἐπεφάνη Φιλόξενος . Elsewhere he mentions, not Philoxenus, but Antipater (Mor. . [Vit. X Or.] 846b): βουλομένων t*) Ἀθηναίων Ἀντιπάτρῳ παραδοῦναι τὸν ἄνθρωπον . There are problems here, but not ones that necessarily force us to dismiss these statements from the Moralia as unreliable.

The passage at 531a is difficult because it seems to conflict with what Hyperides says (Dem. col. 8): “…those from Philoxenus demanding him…” (οἱ παρὰ Φιλοξένου ἐξαιτοῦντες αὐτὸν ). Hyperides clearly refers not to Philoxenus himself, but representatives of Philoxenus. Such a conflict is not particularly devastating, and certainly does not discredit Plutarch’s evidence altogether. The verb ἐπεφάνη at Mor. [De Vit. Pud.] 531a is not necessarily equivalent to ἦλθεν ; if we translate “showed himself” or “came into view”, Plutarch is reconciled with Hyperides.65 But even if we do not grant that latitude in translation, Plutarch’s error is small and easily understood. Pausanias tells us (2.33.4): Harpalus, when he stole away from the Athenians, taking his ships to Crete, was killed there not long after, by some of his servants. They say that he was treacherously killed by a Macedonian man, Pausanias. His paymaster fled to Rhodes and Philoxenus seized him there, who had also demanded Harpalus from the Athenians. Ἅρπαλος μὲν ὡς ἐξ Ἀθηνῶν ἀπέδρα διαβὰς ναυσὶν ἐς Κρήτην, οὐ πολὺ ὕστερον ὑπὸ τῶν θεραπευόντων ἀπέθανεν οἰκετῶν· οἱ δὲ ὑπὸ ἀνδρὸς Μακεδόνος Παυσανίου δολοφονηθῆναί φασιν αὐτόν. τὸν δέ οἱ τῶν χρημάτων διοικητὴν φυγόντα ἐς Ῥόδον Φιλόξενος Μακεδὼν συνέλαβεν, ὃς καὶ αὐτὸν παρὰ Ἀθηναίων ἐξῄτησεν Ἅρπαλον.66

Pausanias’ description of events is relevant for two reasons. First, he shows that Philoxenus was active in the Aegean in 324, and second, that he demanded Harpalus, although Pausanias does not specify whether he did so in person or by proxy. If Plutarch relied on a source such as Pausanias’, we can readily see how envoys dispatched by Philoxenus could become Philoxenus himself.

Mor. [Vit. X Or.] 846b, where Plutarch mentions Antipater but not Philoxenus, does not compare to 531a, and therefore the two do not conflict. At 531a Philoxenus is demanding Harpalus. At 846b the Athenians are “wishing to surrender the man to Antipater”. These passages would present a problem only if we assume that the Athenians discussed Harpalus on only one occasion, and there is no reason to assume so.67

So these two passages from Plutarch’s Moralia do not conflict with each other, but there remains the problem of 846b (Antipater) and Hyperides’ speech. These two do indeed seem to describe the same situation, an assembly at which the Athenians discussed Harpalus, but where Plutarch mentions a desire to give Harpalus to Antipater, Hyperides specifies “those from Philoxenus”. To address this will involve a discussion of Hyperides’ and Dinarchus’ speeches, and so this remaining problem with the Moralia should remain temporarily abeyant while we examine Diodorus’ reference to Antipater and Olympias.

Diodorus refers to Harpalus as “demanded by Antipater and Olympias” (ἐξαιτούμενος δὲ u(p*) Ἀντιπάτρου καὶ Ὀλυμπιάδος ) (17.108.7). Worthington suggested that Diodorus mentions Antipater because “he would be the logical person to receive Harpalus,” but that “demands from Olympias are even more questionable.” 68 Both of these statements are certainly true, especially if, for “questionable” we understand, “demanding of explanation”. I would suggest two reasons for accepting Diodorus’ account, at least tentatively. First, we might borrow from palaeographers the principle of the lectio difficilior: if Diodorus mentioned Antipater, not based on evidence but only according to likelihood, then why mention Olympias, whose presence here is quite surprising? At any rate, it is a methodologically questionable practice to dismiss one source because it adds, without contradiction, to the picture painted by others. Furthermore, to dismiss Diodorus’ evidence would be to use an ex silentio argument from one very fragmentary source (Hyperides)or two if we include Dinarchus, who mentions no embassies at allto dismiss one of the most important and complete sources for the history of the period. We would be justified in doing so only if there were a compelling reason to think that Hyperides could have helped his case by mentioning other Macedonians. Worthington says that he could have, but an examination of Hyperides’ and Dinarchus’ speeches suggests otherwise.

While these orations are particularly valuable as contemporary texts by eyewitnesses to the events, they do not represent the final word on affairs they mention. Speeches from the Athenian law-court are documentary, not historical; they are topically specific and occasional, not diegetical.69 Neither Hyperides nor Dinarchus set out to create a “monument for eternity”; both were interested simply in persuading a jury of Demosthenes’ guilt and moral inferiority. As S. Todd writes, “It seems clear that it is on the level of ‘events’ that the orators are at their most unreliable; and that the attempt to write narrative history on the basis of these sources is doomed to failure.” 70 That having been said, the very lack of self-conscious historiography in these speeches increases their value to us, an uninvited audience. These speeches have worth, but a worth that we cannot judge apart from the context of the trial.

The issues at hand are (1) whether we can trust Hyperides’ statement that representatives from Philoxenus arrived demanding Harpalus’ extraction, and (2) whether we should use Hyperides’ and Dinarchus’ silence regarding Antipater and Olympias to dismiss evidence from the Moralia and Diodorus. The first is the easiest to accept. Hyperides is describing an assembly of the δῆμος to an audience of jurors who were likely participants therein. Accordingly he could probably not have expected to get away with an overt lie. Nor would he probably have tried to lie here, since his mention of “those from Philoxenus” is clearly subordinate to the point he is makinghow Demosthenes manipulated the peoplethrown in merely to set the stage. We may accept it with confidence.

The problem of our orators’ silence regarding Antipater and Olympias is more difficult. The first thing we should note is that neither Hyperides nor Dinarchus gives a summary of the events they are treating. Dinarchus readily admits as much at the outset of his speech against Demosthenes (Dem. 1): Many things have already been said by Stratocles, and most of the charges have been advanced, and regarding the report itself, the one from the council of the Areopagus, many true and just opinions have come forward, and Stratocles has spoken on succeeding events and has read the motions pertaining to them. So, what remains, my fellow Athenians, for us who are prosecuting a case of a magnitude never before occurring in the city, is to make a general exhortation to all of you. First, we ask that you be sympathetic, should we happen to labor certain pointswe don’t say things twice to weary you, but rather to raise your ire all the more…. πολλῶν d*) ὑπὸ Στρατοκλέους εἰρημένων, καὶ τῶν πλείστων προκατειλημμένων κατηγορημάτων, ØκαὶØ περὶ μὲν αὐτῆς τῆς ἀποφάσεως τῆς ἐξ Ἀρείου πάγου βουλῆς δικαίας καὶ ἀληθεῖς ἀποδείξεις εἰρηκυίας, περὶ δὲ τῶν ἀκολούθων τούτοις Στρατοκλέους εἰρηκότος καὶ τὰ ψηφίσματ?̓ ἀνεγνωκότος ἤδη τὰ περὶ τούτων, ὑπόλοιπον ἡμῖν Ἀθηναῖοι, καὶ tau=t*) ἀγωνιζομένοις ἀγῶνα τηλικοῦτον, ἡλίκος οὐδὲ πώποτε γέγονεν [2ἐν]2 τῇ πόλει, κοινῇ πᾶσιν ὑμῖν παρακελεύεσθαι, πρῶτον μὲν τοῖς λοιποῖς ἡμῖν συγγνώμην ἔχειν, ἂν τῶν αὐτῶν ἐνίοις περιπίπτωμεν οὐ γὰρ ἵν?̓ ἐνοχλῶμεν ὑμᾶς, a)ll*) ἵνα ὀργίζεσθαι μᾶλλον παροξύνωμεν, δὶς περὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἐροῦμεν….

This rambling sentence, of which only part is quoted here, goes to great lengths to remind the jury of all that they have already heard, much of it coming from Stratocles, the orator who gave the first speech against Demosthenes. In fact, Dinarchus is clearly sensitive to the dangers of repetitiousness, apologizing in advance for anything he or his colleagues might say that would seem redundant. Of course, we do not know how much detail came out in Stratocles’ speech, and it is possible that Dinarchus’ reference to it is misleading. Worthington would minimize Stratocles’ role in the trial and the information contained in his opening oration: “Because of his youth Stratocles may have given what amounted to an introductory speech simply setting out the charges, which was followed by a longer one delivered by Dinarchus’ client.” 71 Perhaps, but we do find an interesting reference to Stratocles further along in Dinarchus’ oration. He is describing Demosthenes’ role in the destruction of Thebes in 335 BC and in particular his dealings with the Arcadians. At 20 he mentions that the Arcadian leader Astylus was open to bribery, ὥσπερ καὶ Στρατοκλῆς εἶπε , “just as Stratocles also said.” If Stratocles’ speech treated not only the current charges against Demosthenes and the report of the Areopagus, but also covered events a decade earlier, we might suspect that it was more than a short introduction.

So we have reason to believe that the authors of our extant orations were not under pressure to provide their audience with a full narrative account. At col. 8 of his speech, Hyperides describes the assembly immediately after Harpalus’ arrival. His purpose seems to be to raise questions regarding the advice Demosthenes gave the people and its motivation. The orator mentions Philoxenus here, but only in passing, by way of describing the scene when Demosthenes made his argument. It is quite possible that only “those from Philoxenus” were present then, and so the orator mentioned only them.

Worthington also argued, however, that the orators would have been motivated to mention as many Macedonians as possible, because doing so would further their case against Demosthenes.72 But this does not actually seem to have been the case. Hyperides does not focus on Philoxenus, as we have seen, and Dinarchus does not mention him at all. So if mentioning Macedonians in connection with Harpalus was strategically valuable, these orators seem to have done a poor job.

We can find, in addition, good reasons why Hyperides and Dinarchus would want to mention as few Macedonians as possible. According to Hyperides, Demosthenes advocated holding Harpalus with this argument (In Dem. 8): [Demosthenes was] saying that the city would do well not to surrender Harpalus to those from Philoxenus, nor would any blame from Alexander need befall the δῆμος on account of that man. φάσκων οὔτε τοῖς παρὰ Φιλοξένου ἐλθοῦσι καλῶς ἔχειν τὸν Ἅρπαλον ἐγδοῦναι τὴν πόλιν οὔτε δεῖν αἰτίαν οὐδεμίαν τῶι δήμωι di*) ἐκεῖνον par*) Ἀλεξάνδρου καταλείπεσθαι.

Badian has pointed to the significance, for our understanding of these events, of this evidence “that Demosthenes proposed to turn down Philoxenus’ demand, yet asserted that Athenians could avoid offending Alexander.” 73 The most widely accepted explanation is that Demosthenes advocated holding Harpalus, “until Alexander should send a fully accredited representative to take both [Harpalus and the money] over.” 74 In other words, it was not clear that Philoxenus actually represented Alexander, but it seemed that the Athenians could expect gratitude from Alexander for showing caution regarding his treasurer and treasure. We can, however, imagine Demosthenes’ argument to have been plausible only if there were good reasons for suspicion regarding Philoxenus, such as the presence of other, well-established representatives of Macedonia. But for Hyperides to omit mention of them makes Demosthenes’ argument less intelligible.

Demosthenes was charged with stealing, or accepting as a bribe, some of Harpalus’ money. Since this money actually belonged to Alexander, its theft put the Athenians in a potentially dangerous position. Dinarchus dwells on the danger in his speech, asking (rhetorically) what would happen if Alexander suddenly demanded his money back (Dem. 66-69). Dinarchus goes back and forth between accusing Demosthenes of stealing from Athens (15) and accusing him of stealing from Alexander (Din. Dem. 68-69, 89), but the result is the same: both Hyperides’ and Dinarchus’ speeches seek to convince an audience that Demosthenes was motivated entirely by his greed for Harpalus’ gold.

The passage in which Hyperides mentions Philoxenus consists of a long hypotactic sentence that moves from Harpalus’ arrival, through the assembly, to Demosthenes’ proposal and its acceptance. All the background is subordinated to the statement that Demosthenes, and Demosthenes alone, persuaded them to keep Harpalus and store the gold on the Acropolis. Demosthenes ordered an official accounting of the money, regarding which Hyperides says (col. 9): He did this not in order to learn the amount of money, how much was there, but rather, as it seems, so that he might see about how much he could earn for his pay. οὐχ ὅπως πύθοιτο τὸν ἀριθμὸν αὐτῶν, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὅπόσα ἦν, a)ll*) ἵνα εἰδῇ a)f*) ὅσων αὐτὸν δεῖ τὸν μισθὸν πράττεσθαι.

Hyperides portrays Demosthenes as motivated solely by greed, a lust for Macedonian gold. This is why, the jury is to believe, Demosthenes wanted to keep Harpalus in Athens.

This rhetorical attack on Demosthenes demands that the situation be as clear as possible. Like a chemist, Hyperides needs to remove all other variables from his tincture, leaving only Demosthenes, greed, gold, and Philoxenus. If Hyperides had mentioned that there was some confusion over to whom to surrender Harpalus, he would have reminded the jury that Demosthenes had a good, honest, patriotic reason for suggesting that they keep Harpalus around. By mentioning only one Macedonian, Philoxenus, he can more easily portray Demosthenes’ motives as wholly selfish.

By the same token, if Antipater or Olympias or both sent embassies sometime after the initial assembly, we could then explain why Hyperides does not mention them in his speech. Since the arrival of other envoys would confuse the situation and would show clearly that Demosthenes’ cautionary advice had been sound, we would hardly expect his prosecutors to focus on that subject during the trial.

In fact, there is one brief mention of Demosthenes and Olympias. In a badly damaged section of Hyperides’ speech we find this (col. 20): …sent by Demosthenes, and Callias the Chalcidian, the brother of Taurosthenes, with Olympias. For Demosthenes moved that these become Athenians citizens, and he makes use of them most often. ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? [ὑπὸ]
[Δη]μ?οσθένο[υς ἀπο-]
-στ?αλείς, παρὰ [d*) Ὀλυμ-]
πιάδι Καλλίας [Χαλ-]
κιδεύς, Ταυροσθέ-
-νους ἀδελφός· τούτους
γὰρ ἔγραψε Δημοσθέ-
νης Ἀθηναίους εἶ-
ναι καὶ χρῆται τούτοις
-πάντων μάλιστα. There is no way to tell, from the text we have, what is going on here, but it does suggest that there was contact between Olympias and Athens during the course of these events.

To summarize the evidence regarding Macedonian demands for Harpalus. Hyperides and Dinarchus, our eyewitness (and biased and incomplete) reporters, say that Philoxenus demanded Harpalus from the Athenians. Diodorus, our principal narrative source (who is often confused and spotty), says that Antipater and Olympias demanded Harpalus. The Plutarchan Moralia say, at one place, that Philoxenus demanded Harpalus, and at another that the Athenian considered surrendering the man to Antipater. Finally, we have seen not only that the orators had a motive for omitting references to Macedonians, but that Demosthenes’ argument regarding Harpalus is intelligible only if there were more than one demand. We should accept the evidence from Hyperides, Diodorus, and the Plutarchan Moralia that the Athenians faced demands from Philoxenus, Antipater, and Olympias.

· The Embassies and the Crisis ·

Our primary evidence for the Harpalus affair, scanty as it is, does suggest a chronology for these Macedonian demands. A narrative of that chronology, in turn, is suggestive of how the Harpalus Affair evolved as a crisis, in Athenian eyes. Athens initially feared that Harpalus was leading an invasion, an unsurprising reaction to the unannounced advent of thirty Macedonian warships. Dinarchus reminds his audience of the first appearance of Harpalus, “whom you thought to have arrived intending to seize your city” (ὃν h)/|sqeq*) ἡκεῖν καταληψόμενον τὴν πόλιν ὑμῶν ) (In Arist. 4). When, later, Philocles admitted Harpalus to Athens, he did so against the orders of the assembly (Din. In Phil. 1, 7). From this point I would propose the following sequence of events. At least some Athenians, frightened of what consequences might follow Harpalus, wanted to surrender the man immediately; it would have been most logical to give him over to Antipater, the Macedonian general in Greece. Here we fit Plutarch Mor. (Vit. X Or.) 846b: And when [Harpalus] sailed in, bringing a thousand Darics, [Demosthenes] changed sides. And when the Athenians wanted to surrender the man to Antipater, Demosthenes opposed the idea, and moved that they store away the money on the Acropolis, but he did not tell the people how much money there was. ἐπειδὴ d*) εἰσέπλευσε λαβὼν Δαρεικοὺς χιλίους μετετάξατο· βουλομένων t*) Ἀθηναίων Ἀντιπάτρῳ παραδοῦναι τὸν ἄνθρωπον ἀντεῖπεν, ἔγραψέ t*) ἀποθέσθαι τὰ χρήματα εἰς ἀκρόπολιν μηδὲ τῷ δήμῳ τὸν ἀριθμὸν εἰπόντα·

Demosthenes was successful in this proposal because representatives from Philoxenus arrived and appeared before the Assembly. He complicated matters, but because this second Macedonian arrival also proved not to be an invasion, the problem of Harpalus seemed less urgent. Here we may fit two more pieces of evidence. Plutarch says (Mor. 531a): And the example of Demosthenes is a good reminder at this point: when the Athenians had undertaken to help Harpalus and were equipping themselves against Alexander, suddenly Philoxenus appeared on the scene, who was the general of naval matters for Alexander. καὶ τὸ τοῦ Δημοσθένους ἐνταῦθα καλῶς ἔχει διαμνημονεύειν· τῶν γὰρ Ἀθηναίων ὡρμημένων Ἁρπάλῳ βοηθεῖν καὶ κορυσσομένων ἐπὶ τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον ἐξαίφνης ἐπεφάνη Φιλόξενος τῶν ἐπὶ θαλάττῃ πραγμάτων Ἀλεξάνδρου στρατηγός.

With Philoxenus’ arrival, it became clear that Harpalus was, for the time being at least, a diplomatic problem rather than a military one. If the Athenians were to give Harpalus up, to whom should they give him? Antipater, who had been Alexander’s arm in Europe since 335? Or this Philoxenus? Demosthenes advocated delay as the course least likely to be mistaken and to bring Alexander’s anger (Hyp. In Dem. 8; cf. Din. In Dem. 89-90): For when Harpalus came to Attica, jurors, and he and the men from Philoxenus asking for him came before the people, then Demosthenes came forward and made a long speech saying that it was not a good idea for the city to hand Harpalus over to Philoxenus’ men, and that there would be no blame from Alexander because of the man, but that the safest course for the city would be to guard the money and the man, and to carry away to the acropolis all the money that Harpalus had brought, on the very next day. [ἐπ]ειδὴ γὰρ ἦλθεν ἄν]δρες δικα[σταὶ Ἅρπα]λ?ος εἰς τὴν [Ἀττικὴ]ν? καὶ οἱ πα[ρὰ Φιλοξέ]νου ἐξαι[τοῦντες α]ὐ?τὸν ἅμα [προσήχθης]α?ν πρὸς [τὸν δῆμον, τότε παρελθὼν Δημ]οσθένης [διεξῆλθεν] μ?α?κ?ρὸν [λόγον, φά?]ς?κων οὔτε [τοῖς παρ]ὰ Φιλοξέ[νου ἐλθο]ῦσι καλῶς [ἔχειν τὸν?] Ἅρπαλον [ἐγδοῦναι τ?]ὴν πόλιν [οὔτε δεῖν] αἰτίαν οὐ[δεμίαν τ]ῶι δήμωι di*) ἐκεῖνο]ν par*) Ἀλεξάνδρο]υ καταλείπεσθαι, ἀσφαλέστατον d*) εἶναι τ?[ῆι πόλει] τά τε χρήματα [καὶ τὸν] ἄνδρα φυλάτ[τειν] καὶ ἀναφέρει[ν τὰ χρήματα ἅπα[ντα] ε?ἰ?ς? [τὴν] ἀκρόπολιν [ἦ]λθ[εν] ἔχων Ἅρπαλος εἰ[ς τὴν] Ἀττικήν ἐν τῇ αὔρι[ον ἡμέραι.75

After Harpalus was immured and his money confiscated to the Acropolis, further embassies arrived from Antipater and Olympias (Diod. 17.108.6): And demanded by Antipater and Olympias, and having given much money to those orators who had been his advocates, he escaped and slipped off to Taenarum and his mercenaries. ἐξαιτούμενος δὲ u(p*) Ἀντιπάτρου καὶ Ὀλυμπιάδος καὶ πολλὰ χρήματα διαδοὺς τοῖς ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ δημηγοροῦσι ῥήτορσι διέδρα καὶ κατῆρεν εἰς Ταίναρον πρὸς τοὺς μισθοφόρους.

Diodorus’ present participle (ἐξαιτούμενος ) makes Antipater’s and Olympias’ demands contemporaneous with Harpalus’ bribery, which would suggest that these demands were made after the Athenians had admitted him. The further demands for the treasurer would have vindicated Demosthenes’ policy of caution. Antipater and Olympias were considerable presences in Greece, and to have given Harpalus to Philoxenus might have angered these other two. Furthermore, no Macedonian fleet materialized, and no army swept down from Pella. Demosthenes went to the festival at Olympia, met with Nicanor, and sometime later Harpalus escaped.

After Harpalus’ escape, Athenian anxieties seem to focus on the missing gold, and what would happen if Alexander were to demand it back. A year after Harpalus arrived, Dinarchus would call Philocles “the one who was the first cause of the gold that was distributed” (τὸν ἀρχηγὸν γενόμενον τοῦ διαδεδομένου ), omitting on this occasion all reference to the man who actually carried the gold from Asia to Athens (In Phil. 7). Dinarchus’ speech against Demosthenes further illuminates this point (Dem. 66-69): And what iffor we ought to consider thiswhat if, because of Demosthenes’ decree, Alexander sends word to us that he wants the gold that was brought into our country by Harpalus, and in addition to the fact that the Council’s report has been written, he sends back to us the slaves that have by now returned to him, and expects us to learn the truth from them? By the gods, men, what would we say? Would you propose that we fight a war, since we so successfully managed our previous wars? τί d*) [ἐάν] τιθῶμεν γὰρ ταῦτα ἐὰν κατὰ τὸ ψήφισμα τὸ Δημοσθένους ἀπαιτῇ πέμψας ἡμᾶς Ἀλέξανδρος τὸ χρυσίον τὸ κομισθὲν εἰς τὴν χώραν u(f*) Ἁρπάλου, καὶ πρὸς τῷ γεγενῆσθαι τὴν τῆς βουλῆς ἀπόφασιν τοὺς παῖδας καταπέμψῃ πρὸς ἡμᾶς τοὺς νῦν ὡς ἑαυτὸν ἀνακεκομισμένους, καὶ τούτων ἀξιοῖ πυνθάνεσθαι τὴν ἀλήθειαν [ἡ]μᾶς, πρὸς θεῶν ἄνδρες τί ἐροῦμεν; γρά[ψ]εις σὺ Δημόσθενες πολεμεῖν ἡμᾶς, ἐπειδὴ καὶ τοὺς πρότερον πολέμους καλῶς διῴκησας;

The decree (ψήφισμα ) of Demosthenes would have compelled the Athenians to repay Alexander, as the orator explains later in section 69 of the speech. The report (ἀπόφασις ) is the product of the Areopagus’ investigation into Harpalus’ missing money and possible bribery.76 The slaves (τὰ δεινοτάτας ἀτυχίας ) must be the servants of Harpalus whom Philoxenus captured, since these are said to have named the Athenians whom Harpalus bribed (Paus. 2.33.4-5).77 They would have returned to Alexander by March of 323 (the “now” of Dinarchus’ speech). Dinarchus suggests that Alexander might well demand his money back because: (1) Demosthenes had moved that the Athenians repay Alexander; (2) the Areopagus had published an account of the missing money; (3) Alexander had in his possession slaves who could inform the Athenians of anything they had missed. Athens was not in a position to repay the king, Dinarchus says, and might be forced to go to war instead.

We can make four important observations based on the evidence for Harpalus, Macedonian efforts to retrieve him, and the Athenians’ reactions. First, Athens did not admit Harpalus as an act of defiance against Macedonian power. Despite Plutarch’s comment that the Athenians were “equipping themselves against Alexander” (κορυσσομένων ἐπὶ τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον ) (Mor. [De Vit. Pud.] 531a), it is clear that the Athenians were frightened of Alexander and had no intention of going to war if it could be avoided.78 Dinarchus says that Athens at first thought Harpalus’ fleet to be invading (In Arist. 4), and when it was clear that he was a fugitive the assembly voted to prevent his entry (Din. In Phil. 1, 7). Once Harpalus was admitted, Demosthenes’ argument won the day by promising that “there would be no blame from Alexander because of the man” (οὔτε δεῖν αἰτίαν οὐδεμίαν τῶι δήμωι di*) ἐκεῖνον παρ?̓ Ἀλεξάνδρου καταλείπεσθαι ) (Hyp. In Dem. 18).

Second, we can observe that almost a year later the idea of war with Macedonia seemed ludicrous, at least to a significant number of Athenians. Dinarchus asks Demosthenes, rhetorically, “Would you propose that we fight a war, since you so successfully managed our previous wars?” (γρά[ψ]εις σὺ Δημόσθενες πολεμεῖν ἡμᾶς, ἐπειδὴ καὶ τοὺς πρότερον πολέμους καλῶς διῴκησας; ) (In Dem. 69). The orator seeks to panic the jurors at this prospect: he says that Demosthenes has put them in “the most terrible misfortunes” (τὰ δεινοτάτας ἀτυχίας ) (77); he says that the trial “concerns the safety of the whole city” (περὶ σωτηρίας τῆς πόλεως ἁπάσης ) (88); he recalls the destruction of Olynthus and Thebes by Macedonian hands (26), and forecasts such a disaster for Athens (99): And you and the whole people are in danger of losing the foundations of your city, and your ancestral temples, and your children, and your wives. καὶ ὑμεῖς μὲν καὶ δῆμος ἅπας κινδυνεύῃ περὶ τοῦ ἐδάφους τοῦ τῆς πόλεως καὶ τῶν ἱερῶν τῶν πατρῴων καὶ παίδων καὶ γυναικῶν.

This is all very hysterical, but had Dinarchus not thought that his dire predictions would resonate with the jury, they would not appear in this speech. Athens feared Alexander in June of 324, when Harpalus first arrived, and still did so in March of 323, only a few months before the king’s death.

The third observation is surprising given the previous two: Despite the Athenians’ interest in avoiding conflict with Alexander, they did not release Harpalus to any of the Macedonians who demanded him. All three had excellent credentials: Olympias was the king’s mother, Antipater commanded the Macedonian armies in Europe, and Philoxenus was an officer closely associated with Alexander in Asia. Any one of these could have claimed authority as Alexander’s representative over Harpalus and his money, and their envoys suggest strongly that they did so. Somehow, though, the Athenians were persuaded that the safer course, the course least likely to anger Alexander, was to deny all three requests. In Athenian eyes, it would seem that the only Macedonian who could speak for Alexander was Alexander.

Fourth, and most important for our analysis of Macedonian hegemony: Despite the Athenians’ refusal to surrender Harpalus, and despite their having lost Alexander’s money, the dire consequences Dinarchus and Hyperides claim to fear never materialized. Neither Olympias, nor Antipater, nor Philoxenus, nor Alexander himself took any steps that we hear of either to secure Harpalus’ money or to punish the Athenians for their intransigence. The Athenians and their allies did go to war with Antipater in late 323, but this so-called Lamian War was prompted by Alexander’s death, was directed specifically at Antipater, and was begun by a vote in the Athenian assembly (Hyp. Epit. 3, 10-11); it cannot be seen as a result of the Harpalus Affair.

The preceding discussion of the Harpalus Affair and the Macedonian embassies serves to found our subsequent analysis of Macedonian hegemony. Why did the Athenians feel free to reject the demands of three Macedonian embassies? Or rather, how could the Athenians simultaneously fear Macedonian power and reject the authority of high-ranking Macedonians? To compose an answer to these questions requires discussion of the structures of Macedonian hegemony in Greece from Alexander’s departure in 335 until his death in 323. In the next chapter, we will begin with Antipater.

— Notes for section 4 —

Note 22

Arr. 3.6.5; Plut. Alex. 10.1-4; Curt. 10.1.45. For a full discussion of Harpalus’ career, see S. Jaschinski (1981) 7-35.

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Note 23

A.B. Bosworth (1980) 336-337, casts doubt on whether Harpalus controlled all of Alexander’s treasure; cf., too, F. Schachermeyr (1973) 231, 293; E. Badian (1961) 26-27.

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Note 24

See, for example, H. Berve (1926) 76; F. Schachermeyr (1973) 231. E. Badian (1960) 243, supposes that Harpalus fled in anger because Alexander had replaced him in his job with Philoxenus and Coeranus (Arr. 3.27.4). W. Heckel (1977) 133, argues that Tauriscus convinced Harpalus to embezzle money and flee, and that Philoxenus and Coeranus were appointed after the desertion, to fill the empty post. A.B. Bosworth (1980) 284, argues that Harpalus fled Asia in the belief that Alexander would be defeated - this was a widespread assumption before Issus (Diod. 17.32.4; Joseph. AJ 11.314-316; Aesch. In Ctes. 164). I. Worthington (1984), argues, against all of these models, that Harpalus had been diverting funds from the treasury for some time, was found out and fled. He notes, (p. 164) contra Bosworth, that there had been no failure of confidence among Macedonians just before the battle at Granicus a year earlier. Alexander was lenient toward Harpalus, Worthington argues, because in the early years of his Asian wars, Alexander thought of his treasury as “spoils”, rather than “revenue”.

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Note 25

R. Lane-Fox (1973) 411; P. Green (1991) 222. Both scholars think that Harpalus was sent to spy on the Greeks, although we might wonder why Alexander sent Harpalus (when there were many Macedonians and pro-Macedonian Greeks in Europe already), and why he sent him to Megara; cf. I. Worthington (1984) 163.

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Note 26

B.M. Kingsley (1986); cf. E. Carney (1988) 396 n.31. Kingsley follows A.R. Burn (1952) 81-85, in noting how precarious was Alexander’s position in the Aegean and on the western coast of Asia between 333 and 331; when Alexander was preparing to leave the coast, we cannot easily imagine him turning over his finances to a thief and deserter. Kingsley also suggests that Arrian’s account of this “first flight” is largely colored by the historian’s knowledge of the second, unambiguous, flight.

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Note 27

For the date of the Agēn, see H. Lloyd-Jones (1966) 16-17; A. Lingua (1979) 35-36; B.M. Kingsley (1986) 168; I. Worthington (1986a) 64.

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Note 28

See B.M. Kingsley (1986) 166 and n.13.

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Note 29

See H. Berve (1926) nos. 231 and 676 for the surprisingly rich evidence on these two women.

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Note 30

The chronology I present here follows in its outline that proposed by I. Worthington (1986a) which is largely based on that of E. Badian (1961) esp. 41-43.

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Note 31

G. Colin (1925) 318; H. Berve (1926) 78; G. Colin (1934) 7; E. Badian (1961) 23 and n.46; W. Will (1983) 115; I. Worthington (1986a) 63.

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Note 32

Arr. 6.15.3, 6.27.1, 6.27.3-4, 7.4.1, 7.6.1; Curt. 9.8.9, 9.10.21, 9.10.29, 10.1.1-2, 10.1.39; Plut. Alex. 68.4. For the definitive discussion of the details surrounding these purges, see E. Badian (1961) 16-18. Also, H. Berve (1926) vol. 1, 276, vol. 2 nos. 200, 519, 780, 785; S. Jaschinski (1981) 26-27. A.B. Bosworth (1971) 123 and n.3, thinks that Badian’s account, while generally accurate, “probably exaggerates the extent of the terror”; he does not, however, offer much contradictory evidence.

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Note 33

To Harpalus’ fear on account of his improvidence, Worthington adds a political connection to Coenus, who was instrumental in the mutiny at Hyphasis and implicated in the murder of Parmenio. I. Worthington (1992) 41, cf. S. Jaschinski (1981) 27-28.

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Note 34

I. Worthington (1986a) 63-64. That Harpalus left Babylon in late 325 or early 324 is widely accepted; see A. Schäfer (1887) 306; G. Colin (1925) 318; P. Cloché (1957) 266; E. Badian (1961) 24 and n.51; W. Will (1983) 116; P. Cloché (1957) 266. These contra S. Jaschinski (1981) 35, “Babylon dürfte er demnach etwa im Marz 324 verlassen haben.” J.A. Goldstein (1968) 45, quotes Theophr. Char. 3.3 and Vegetius 4.39 for a mid-March beginning of the sailing season.

Worthington is the only scholar to have addressed the problem of the weight of Harpalus’ money, although he argues specifically regarding the 700 talents Harpalus eventually brought into Athens; see I. Worthington (1986) 223 and n.8. There he concludes that a sum of money having a value of 700 silver talents - 18 tons if actually silver, and 1.8 tons if gold - would easily fit in two ships. Likewise, if we accept the figure of 25.87 kg per Attic/Euboean talent ( OCD 2 s.v. “Weights”), then the 5000 talents would weigh approximately 140 tons, if silver, and 14 tons, if gold. Worthington directs us to Din. 1.89 and Hyp. 5.8, 31, where we find Harpalus dispensing bribes in gold. As additional evidence that Harpalus’ money was in gold, I would offer that Plutarch (Mor. 846a) says that Harpalus arrived with dareikoi/, referring to the gold Daric; this detail would not be worth much but that Plutarch immediately quotes Philochorus (FGrH 328 F 163), suggesting that he might have had relatively good information here. Thus we can assume a weight of 14 tons, which should have been an easy cargo for 30 ships.

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Note 35

E. Badian (1961) 30 and n.96, 42; I. Worthington (1986a) 62.

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Note 36

R. Sealey (1960).

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Note 37

This passage has led some to believe that Harpalus came to Greece after the Olympic festival in July/August: C.D. Adams (1901) 124-130; A. Körte (1924) 219 n.3; H. Berve (1926) 78-79 and n.2; and most recently, S. Jaschinski (1981) 62, who says that Harpalus arrived, “Kurze zeit nach der Verkündung des Verbanntendekrest in Olympia”. The evidence regarding Philocles, discussed just below, shows that Harpalus must have reached Athens before the end of July, and so the excitement over Nicanor must have arisen upon his arrival, well before the formal announcement at Olympia. M. Errington (1990) 105-107, offers a concise critique of Jaschinski’s chronology.

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Note 38

Cf. J.K. Davies (1971) 540; I. Worthington (1986a) 64 n.19.

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Note 39

W.B. Dinsmoor (1931) 372, 429; cf. E. Badian (1961) 42; I. Worthington (1986a) 64-65.

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Note 40

E. Badian (1961) 42-43 prefers the second or third week of July; I. Worthington (1986a) 65 prefers the end of June, on the assumption that a fugitive would be considerably more hasty than a diplomat.

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Note 41

H. Bengtson (1965) 329.

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Note 42

N.G. Ashton (1983) 47-63; P. Cloché (1957) 267; I. Worthington (1986) 223, cf. H. Berve (1926) 78; I. Worthington (1992) 49-50. We might compare the rancor with which the pseudo-Demosthenic speech “On the Treaties with Alexander” mentions Macedonian effrontery in sailing a single warship into the Piraeus (Dem. 17.23).

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Note 43

I. Worthington (1986), contributes a full discussion of inscriptional and textual evidence for these ships. E. Badian (1961) 31, 37 and n.161, and more recently N.G. Ashton (1983) 57 and n.46, argue that Harpalus returned with three ships. H. Berve (1926) 138, and W. Will (1983) 118, argue for two. Worthington suggests that, befitting a suppliant, Harpalus returned with only one or two triremes, and that others followed later, perhaps after his imprisonment.

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Note 44

N.G. Ashton (1983) 51; E. Badian (1961) 31 and n.106; P. Cloché (1957) 266-267; A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 452; I. Worthington (1986) 223. Ashton and Pickard-Cambridge think that Philocles was bribed to admit Harpalus. Dinarchus does not actually say, in his speech against Philocles, that the man admitted Harpalus; the closest he comes is this (1-2): …καὶ ἐψευσμένος ἁπάντων Ἀθηναίων ἐναντίον καὶ τῶν περιεστηκότων, φάσκων κωλύσειν Ἅρπαλον εἰς τὸν Πειραιᾶ καταπλεῦς[αι], στρατηγὸς u(f*) ὑμῶν ἐπὶ τὴν Μουνιχίαν καὶ τὰ νεώρια κεχειροτονημένος… (“…and lying before all the Athenians and those standing around, saying that he would prevent Harpalus from sailing into the Piraeus, having been appointed by you as general over Munichia and the dockyards…”).

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Note 45

See E. Badian (1961) 43; J.A. Goldstein (1968) 45; S. Jaschinski (1981) 38; W. Will (1983) 119; I. Worthington (1986a) 50, 66.

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Note 46

The order of events here has been much debated, but Worthington’s arguments are decisive. G. Colin (1925) 41, and P. Cloché (1957) 271, would see Harpalus escaping before Demosthenes left for Olympia. Worthington notes, however, that Demosthenes is not likely to have been appointed ἀρχεθέωρος under those circumstances, so he must have gone before Harpalus fled. E. Badian (1961) 42-43, raises the possibility that Harpalus fled while Demosthenes was away, but if so, it would have been hard for Hyperides (In Dem. 12) to accuse Demosthenes of relaxing the vigilance of the man’s guards. The sensible sequence of events, then, puts Harpalus’ escape after Demosthenes’ return. See I. Worthington (1986a) 66-67.

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Note 47

Further evidence for the date of the Areopagus’ report comes from a fragment of Timocles’ comedy Dēlos (F. 4, ed. B. Snell, apud Athen. 8.341a-342a). The lines list Athenians whom Harpalus bribed: Demosthenes, Moirocles, Demo, Callisthenes, and most startling, Hyperides. It seems most likely that this list is not based on the report, but a joke in anticipation of it. We may assume that the play pre-dated publication of the Areopagus’ report. The comedy must have been performed at either the Lenaea, in February 323, or the Dionysia, in late March; this fits well with Dinarchus’ claim of a six-month investigation, which would have ended in February or March. See E. Badian (1961) 42; I. Worthington (1986a) 68-69; R. Sealey (1993) 266.

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Note 48

There is a tendency to see the debate over Harpalus as one between pro- and anti-Macedonian parties - the “pro” being represented by Demosthenes, and the “anti” by the orators who will later prosecute him for corruption, Hyperides and Dinarchus - but the matter is not nearly that straightforward. As C. Mossé writes, “The facts are known to us chiefly through the speech that Hyperides composed against Demosthenes, and this is the disturbing factor, for if the accusation had come from a member of the pro-Macedonian party it could easily have been written off as a calumny, the verdict of the Areopagus would have been suspect, and the misappropriation of funds, if indeed it had taken place, would have been ascribed to the orator’s patriotism; but the presence of Hyperides among the accusers and of Demades among the accused confuses the issue, and embarrasses supporters of the over-simple theory of a straightforward antagonism between pro- and anti-Macedonians.” C. Mossé (1973) 86; cf W. Will (1983) 118; I. Worthington (1992) 42, 44.

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Note 49

Arrian 4.10.7-9; Curtius 8.5.8, 10.2.3; Din. Dem. 112; Diod. 17.108.7; Plut. Dem. 25.5, Comp. Dem. Cic. 3.5, Alex. 55, Mor. 848f. Dionysius of Halicarnassus mentions a speech by Demosthenes, ὑπὲρ τοῦ μὴ ἐκδοῦναι Ἅρπαλον Ἀλεξανδρῳ, (“On Not Surrendering Harpalus”) which he describes as ou)k a)/cion a)/ra qauma/zein, (“not worthy of admiration”) (Dion. Hal. Din. 11 [660]). For discussion and bibliography see G. Colin (1925) 328; I. Worthington (1992) 45 n.18.

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Note 50

C.D. Adams (1901) 134-135. Also, H. Bengtson (1937) 127 n.5: “Daß Philoxenos in höchsteigener Person in Athen erschienen sei, ist nur eine von den zahlreichen Flüchtigkeiten, die sich Plutarch bei der Auswertung von historischem Material hat zuschulden kommen lassen.” This contra: A. Schäfer (1887) 309 n.2; A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 452.

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Note 51

We will examine further the seeming inconsistency between Hyperides and Plutarch’s evidence; see below, page 23.

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Note 52

H. Berve (1926) 390.

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Note 53

H. Berve (1926) 389-390; E. Badian (1965) 168-169.

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Note 54

I. Worthington (1984a).

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Note 55

Not all comment, of course: J.R. Hamilton (1973) 138; R. Sealey (1993) 256; L. Tritle (1988) 119; N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 172.

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Note 56

G. Colin (1934) 9. This is in keeping with his opinion expressed earlier, Colin (1925) 328 (although here he does mention that Demosthenes might have been in a delicate position if he had to choose between three prominent Macedonians). Also, more recently, W. Will (1983) 121, sees no particular problem with three embassies.

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Note 57

“Argument raged as to whether Harpalus should or should not be surrendered - and if so, to whom.” P. Green (1970) 252.

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Note 58

“Aber die Auslieferungsforderung, welche der König durch Philoxenus, zugleich Antipatros und Olympias aus eigener Initiative an Athen ergehen ließen shuf eine newe Lage.” H. Berve (1926) 79. With him: P. Cloché (1957) 268; J.A. Goldstein (1968) 38.

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Note 59

E. Badian (1961) 36.

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Note 60

R. Sealey (1993) 213.

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Note 61

K.J. Beloch (1923) 59.

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Note 62

C. Mossé (1973) 87; S. Jaschinski (1981) 42-43.

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Note 63

I. Worthington (1984a).

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Note 64

I. Worthington (1984a) 48. I devote so much attention here to Worthington’s article because it is the only protracted discussion of this problem, and raises the important issues relevant to our sources for the Macedonian envoys. It is only right to note that Worthington seems to have changed his view toward accepting the possibility of requests other than Philoxenus’. ‘It is odd that Philoxenus should be involved and not Antipater, the regent of Greece, although Ps.-Plutarch (Mor. [Vit. X. Or.] 846b) notes that the Athenians wished to surrender Harpalus to Antipater, and Diodorus (17.108.7) tells us that envoys arrived from Antipater and also from the king’s mother Olympias. Philoxenus may well have sent an embassy that later prompted Antipater to follow suit’; I. Worthington (1992) 44. While many of my conclusions regarding the envoys agree with this statement, there has not been, to my knowledge, a systematic rehabilitation of Antipater’s and Olympias’ embassies to Athens.

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Note 65

For the abstract uses of e)pifai/nw, especially in the passive, cf. Hdt. 2.152, 4.122, Thuc. 8.42.

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Note 66

σεε ι. ωορτηινγτον ῾198?̓ .

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Note 67

For a suggested scheme of how the demands for Harpalus fit into a chronology of the Harpalus Affair, see below, page 29.

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Note 68

I. Worthington (1984a) 48.

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Note 69

See G. Genette’s description of history as διηγήσις as opposed to μιμήσις. “Frontières du récit”, Figures II (Seuil, 1969) 30, quoted in P. Veyne (1971) 5.

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Note 70

S. Todd (1990) 173.

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Note 71

I. Worthington (1992) 54.

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Note 72

I. Worthington (1984a) 48.

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Note 73

E. Badian (1961) 36 n.155.

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Note 74

A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 453; cf. P. Green (1970) 252, A.B. Bosworth (1988) 217.

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Note 75

α.β. βοσωορτη ῾198?̓ 217 ν.33 , νοτες τηατ ἅμα ηερε δοες νοτ ξορρελατε τηε αρριϝαλ οφ ηαρπαλυς ανδ πηιλοχενυς’ ενϝοψς, ονλψ τηατ τηεψ ωερε βρουγητ το τηε ασσεμβλψ ατ τηε σαμε τιμε.

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Note 76

For discussion of a)po/fasis and the Areopagus’ investigation, see I. Worthington (1986b).

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Note 77

I. Worthington (1992) 232-233.

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Note 78

Pace N.G. Ashton (1983).

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(Section 5 of 9)

· Antipater & the Greeks ·

In 324 BC Antipater demanded Harpalus from the Athenians, and his demand was ignored. We need a satisfying explanation of why Antipater issued his demand, why the Athenians felt free to disregard it, and why they suffered no consequences. Such an explanation must begin with discussion of Antipater’s position in the structures of Macedonia and of the Macedonian hegemony in Greece. We should note at the outset that his position was not static, just as Macedonian and Greek politics were not static, but dynamic and evolving throughout the years of Alexander’s absence from Europe. My discussion of Antipater will be mainly conceptual, a historical analysis rather than a full, diachronic narrative of events. The years of Alexander’s career have been chronicled many times, and for the events with which I am concerned here we have D. Kanatsulis’ thorough assemblage of ancient sources for the life and career of Antipater, which needs no duplication.79 I will focus on episodes that might illuminate Antipater’s position between Alexander and the cities of Greece, and between the formal structure of the Common Peace and the extemporaneous political movements and military needs that confronted him.

· Antipater in Macedonia ·

Alexander left Greece in 334 and left the eastern edges of the Greek world in 330. During this time, when he was physically abroad but still a palpable presence in Greece, the Macedonian hegemony stood on the treaties between Alexander and the Greeks, Alexander’s own will, and Macedonia’s real and perceived ability to enforce that will. At the center of these three was Antipater, the commander of Macedonian forces in Greece, and so a discussion of Macedonian power in Greece must begin by examining his position, duties, and actions.

When he began his invasion of Asia, Alexander had to leave someone in charge of the Macedonian troops he left behind in Europe, and Kanatsulis suggests that Antipater got this job simply because Philip had already assigned it to him, at the same time Parmenio, Amyntas, and Attalus were dispatched to lead an advanced party to the Hellespont (Diod. 16.91.1-2, 17.7.4; Justin 9.5.8).80 Certainly the speed with which Alexander assumed his father’s position in Macedonia, waged a campaign in the north, cowed the Greeks, and launched his invasion left little time for tinkering with any parts of his father’s plan that were well settled. Antipater was also the logical choice, having served before as “regent” in Pella during the king’s absence. In 342, when Philip was campaigning in Thrace, Antipater seems to have served as the public representative of the Macedonian state. During this time, Isocrates addressed a letter to Antipater, rather than to Philip (Ep. 4.1), and the Pythian games, sponsored by Philip, were presided over by Antipater in 342Libanius mentions “the Pythian games of Antipater” (τὰ Ἀντιπάτρου Πύθια ) (Liban. Decl. 23.1.66; cf. Dem. Phil. III 9.32).81 Antipater and Alexander may actually have shared the management of Macedonia during Philip’s campaigns of 344-342 BC, for in addition to Antipater’s visibility in the public sphere we have Plutarch’s comment that “When Philip was waging war against Byzantium, Alexander was fifteen but was left as regent in Macedonia, charged with affairs and with the seal…” (Φιλίππου δὲ στρατεύοντος ἐπὶ Βυζαντίους, ἦν μὲν ἑκκαιδεκέτης Ἀλέξανδρος, ἀπολειφθεὶς δὲ κύριος ἐν Μακεδονίᾳ τῶν πραγμάτων καὶ τῆς σφραγῖδος ) (Alex. 9.1).82 Later, Antipater and Alexander again served together as emissaries to Athens after the battle of Chaeronea (Justin 9.4.5; Polyb. 5.10; Plut. Dem. 22; Hyp. Fr. B 19.2-5 [cols. 77-80]).

We may also assume that Antipater was in charge of Macedonia during Alexander’s march to the Danube in 335, soon after he had secured himself as Philip’s successor. Dinarchus says that the Arcadians received envoys from the Thebans, who were in revolt from Macedonia, but rejected Macedonian envoys; the orator states explicitly that this embassy was sent by Antipater (τὴν μὲν par*) Ἀντιπάτρου πρεσβείαν ) (Din. In Dem. 18). When Alexander marched southward toward Thebes, Arrian says (1.7.6): And then those leading the rebellion said that Antipater’s army was coming out of Macedonia, but they were firm in saying that Alexander himself had died, and they were angry with those announcing that Alexander himself was approachingthey said, rather, that another Alexander, the son of Aeropus, was coming. καὶ τότε δὲ οἱ πράξαντες τὴν ἀπόστασιν στράτευμα ἐκ Μακεδονίας Ἀντιπάτρου ἀφῖχθαι ἔφασκον, αὐτὸν δὲ Ἀλέξανδρον τεθνάναι ἰσχυρίζοντο, καὶ τοῖς ἀπαγγέλλουσιν ὅτι οὗτος αὐτὸς προσάγει Ἀλέξανδρος χαλεπῶς εἶχον· ἄλλον γάρ τινα ἥκειν Ἀλέξανδρον τὸν Ἀερόπου.

The Greeks assumed that in Alexander’s absence any Macedonian army must be led by Antipater.

Perhaps more important than Antipater’s previous experience is the debt Alexander owed him, for he was the first of Philip’s generals to acknowledge Alexander as successor (Arr. 25.1; Curt. 3.1.6-7; Justin 11.1.8 and 11.2.2; Diod. 17.2.2).83 Antipater’s stature among Macedonians, and that of Parmenio who was also quick to hail Alexander as leader, were indispensable to the would-be king.84

Antipater’s position of responsibility in Pella may have been at least partially a reward for his support, but the newly acclaimed king may have had a less positive reason for leaving this general behind. Alexander surrounded himself closely with people loyal, first and last, to Alexander, and he seems to have been wary of his father’s old friends whose loyalty was not personal and unquestioning.85 It is, of course, hardly likely that Alexander would have left Antipater in Pella with an army unless he deemed him loyal. There is, however, a difference between loyal service and devotion to an individual. Both Antipater and Parmenio advised Alexander against launching his expedition in 334, reasoning that the king would do well to father an heir first (Diod. 17.62.2). This advice was clearly an expression of loyalty to Macedonia. But it also questioned Alexander’s judgment, and it might have suggested to him that these two generals had doubts about the outcome of war with Persia. Such advice shows Antipater and Parmenio to have been thinking of Macedonia in terms that did not necessarily depend on Alexander, and Alexander may not have appreciated such concern for events beyond his death; as P. Green says, “there was always a streak of après moi le déluge about him.” 86 By leaving Antipater in Pella, Alexander could at once take advantage of his experience, reward him with an important job, allow him to work for the good of Macedonia, and keep him separate from Parmenio, thus reducing the number of potentially dissenting voices in his expeditionary force.

We have no satisfying description of Antipater’s duties or powers. There are ample precedents for a Macedonian leader’s leaving an official caretaker behind, and for a state such as Macedonia, ruled by a soldier-monarch and almost constantly at war, it is hard to imagine any other arrangement. Thucydides tells us that in 432 bc Perdiccas II left Iolaus as “leader” (Ἰόλαον a)nq*) αὑτοῦ καταστήσας ἄρχοντα ) (1.62.3), and when Philip II was warring in Thrace, 340, Alexander “was left behind in charge of matters in Macedonia and of the seal” (ἀπολειφθεὶς δὲ κύριος ἐν Μακεδονίᾳ τῶν πραγμάτων καὶ τῆς σφραγῖδος ) (Plut. Alex. 9.1).87 Our sources for Antipater’s position are not consistent, or specific, in their terms. Diodorus says that Antipater “was left behind by Alexander as general over Europe” (ἐπὶ τῆς Εὐρώπης στρατηγὸν u(p*) αὐτοῦ καταλειφθέντα ) (Diod. 17.118.1) or as “general of Europe” (στρατηγὸς τῆς Εὐρώπης ) (18.12.1), and that Antipater “held the ἡγεμονία over the soldiers remaining in Europe” (οἱ d*) ἐπὶ Εὐρώπης ἀπολελειμμένοι στρατιῶται, ὦν Ἀντίπατρος εἶχε τὴν ἡγεμονίαν ) (17.17.5). Hammond notes that Diodorus’ description here is inconsistent with his mention of a στρατηγὸς τῆς Θρᾴκης , a general of Thrace (Diod. 17.62.5).88 The contemporary sources, the Attic orators, refer to Antipater by name alone, and it is possible that Diodorus’ choice of στρατηγός is informed by Hellenistic terminology.89 Arrian describes Antipater’s position without using a title: “And at the beginning of spring [Alexander] marched out to the Hellespont, having entrusted the affairs of Macedonia and the Greeks to Antipater” (ἅμα δὲ τῷ ἦρι ἀρχομένῳ ἐξελαύνει e)f*) Ἑλλησπόντου, τὰ μὲν κατὰ Μακεδονίαν τε καὶ τοὺς Ἕλληνας Ἀντιπάτρῳ ἐπιτρέψας ) (1.11.3). But Arrian’s description, while less likely to be anachronistic, is even more vague.

What were “the affairs of Macedonia and the Greeks” to include? We cannot answer this question formally or institutionally in any satisfying way, largely because Macedonian politics seem never to have been formal or institutional.90 Nevertheless, a broad outline does emerge. The governance of Macedonia was traditionally in the hands of a “king” (who is always referred to by name, with no title), and the “Macedones”.91 This bipartite governance appears on inscriptions in the fifth-century bc, in the context of a treaty between Macedonia and Athens, c. 415.92 The term “Macedones” seems to refer to a citizen-assembly, probably limited to the Macedonian soldiery.93 The Macedones were called to assembly by the king or some acceptable substitute, but were also the body who selected a king by acclamation (Aul. Gell. An. 15.20.10; Diod. 16.22.3; Curt. 6.8.23).94 Given this tradition, and the evidence we have seen for Antipater’s being in some way “entrusted” with Macedonian “affairs”, we should probably assume that Antipater could call assemblies of those Macedones in Macedonia whenever necessary. Pausaniaswho assiduously uses the phrase “[the king’s name] and the Macedones” to refer to the Macedonian state95twice describes European Macedonia during Alexander’s absence as “Antipater and the Macedones” (1.13.6; 3.10.5).

While Antipater’s role in Macedonia itself may have been based on institutional traditions, his position in Greece after 335 was utterly unprecedented. There had never before been a Macedonian “general of Europe”, nor any occasion for a Macedonian king to entrust a general with “the affairs of Macedonia and the Greeks”. Accordingly, Antipater’s position in Greece during Alexander’s absence must be described in terms of his actions. We must see his actions, in turn, against the background of the so-called “Common Peace”. This treaty-organization to a certain extent determined the relationship between Macedonia and the Greeks, although often in ways which were ambiguous and even contradictory.

· The Common Peace ·

In 337 BC, after his victory at Chaeronea, Philip II convened representatives of the Greek states at Corinth and persuaded, or compelled, them to join in ratifying a treaty of peace (Diod. 16.89.3). All major states of mainland Greece joined, with the notable exception of Sparta.96 The treaty would be reaffirmed, two years later, by Philip’s son Alexander ([Diod.] 17.4; Arr. 1.1.1; Justin 11.2.5; Plut. Alex. 14.1). An inscription from Athens preserves some part of the oaths sworn on this occasion between Philip and the Greek states.97 The treaty is commonly known as the “Common Peace”, and although the phrase does not appear on our principal inscription, the term is well attested elsewhere. Tod II 192, dated to 332, refers to ἁπασῶν τῶν πόλεων τῶν τῆς εἰρήνης κοινωνουσῶν , “all those cities sharing in the peace.” The author of the pseudo-Demosthenic speech, περὶ τῶν πρὸς Ἀλεξάνδρον συνθηκῶν , “On the treaty with Alexander” (17), mentions “the common peace” ( κοινὴ εἰρήνη ), as well as “the oath” ( ὅρκος ), “the oaths” (οἱ ὅρκοι ), “the convention” ( συνθήκη ), “the conventions” (αἱ συνθῆκαι ), “the common agreement” ( κοινὴ ὁμολογία ), “the agreements” (αἱ ὁμολογίαι ), “the things agreed upon” (τὰ ὁμολογηθέντα ), “all those sharing the peace” (πάντες τῆς εἰρήνης κοινωνοῦντες ), “the participants” (μετέχοντες ), and “the cities sharing the peace” (αἱ πόλεις αἱ κοινωνοῦσαι τῆς εἰρήνης ).

Before turning to the terms and effects of the Common Peace itself, we should note briefly how modern scholarship has been divided in interpreting it. Some would see the treaty as an effort to foster pan-Hellenic unity, and others would largely dismiss it as a tool for Macedonian domination. Ryder, for instance, offers a warm characterization of the Peace: “Philip had set up his adaptation of the Common Peace treaty form as a standard of liberality for the governing of relations between the Greeks and their Macedonian rulers.” 98 Badian is more cautious, allowing the term “Common Peace”, “as long as we note that it was an aggressive Peace.” 99 And Cawkwell takes a most cynical stance regarding the treaty of 338: “Philip had got himself voted by the league of Corinth στρατηγὸς αὐτοκράτωρ but in itself this could be regarded as no more than another move of propaganda, masking Philip’s real aim of dominating Greece.” 100 This debate must continue as long as the argument focuses on intentions, which are inaccessible to the historian, rather than effects, which are not.101 No bald assertion of “liberality” or “propaganda” can adequately fit the evidence of how the Common Peace entered into discourse and acted on events from its formulation in 338 until the tumultuous final years of the Alexander’s life. We will see evidence to show that the mechanisms of the Peace did work to resolve conflicts among Greek states, and that Alexander and Antipater worked through the Council of the Common Peace where they could have acted by fiat. Smaller cities probably welcomed a “Peace” imposed by distant Macedonia as an improvement over the constant interference by the major powers of Sparta, Thebes, and Athens.102 On the other hand, Macedonia was a hegemonic power, ruling by military might, and Alexander was, finally, answerable to no one. Macedonian garrisons at Thebes, Chalcis, Corinth and Ambracia were not affected by the treaty, and clauses guaranteeing existing governments would, more often than not, work to the advantage of pro-Macedonian governments that had ridden Philip’s coattails.103 The tension between the words and deeds of the Common Peace shapes the political history of 338-323 BC, and is particularly important for our treatment of Antipater, who stood between the institution and its ἡγεμών.

Those states who joined the Common Peace swore oaths pledging themselves to remain loyal to the peace and not to break the “treaty” ([ς]υ?νθήκας ) (Tod II 177, ll. 3-5), not to bear arms against other states keeping the treaty (ll.5-8), not to occupy any city, fort, or harbor belonging to those who have joined in the peace (ll. 8-11), not to subvert the kingdom of Philip and his descendants ([οὐδὲ τ]η?̀ν βασιλείαν [τ]ὴν Φ⁄[ιλίππου καὶ τῶν ἐκγόν]ων καταλύσω ) (ll.11-12), not to meddle with the constitutions of each other (par*) ἑκάστοις ) (12-14), to do nothing to violate the treaty but to help others keep it (15-17), anda clause which will be important to our investigation“to help in whatever way, should those being wronged request it, and make war on any transgressor of the common peace in whatever way, should it seem necessary to the common συνέδριον and should the ἡγεμών order it” ([βοηθήσω] καθότι ἂν παραγ⁄[γέλλωσιν οἱ ἀδικούμενοι] καὶ πολεμήσω τῶ⁄[ι τὴν κοινὴν ἐιρήνην παρ]αβαίνοντι καθότι [ἂν δοκῆι τῶι κοινῶι συνεδ]ρ?ίωι καὶ ἡγεμ?ω?̀⁄[ν παραγγέλληι] ) (ll. 17-22).

The council, συνέδριον, of the Common Peace was the body which was to deal with any problems relevant to the Peace. It is tempting to see this council as a toothless instrument for Macedonian propaganda, and some of its attested decrees scarcely admit of any other interpretation, such as when the Spartans were beginning to act against Macedonia in 332, and the σύνεδροι met (under the shadow of a Macedonian garrison on the Acrocorinth) to vote a formal expression of loyalty to Alexander (Diod. 17.48.6; Curt. 4.5.11). But other actions of the council seem to be in complete accord with the oaths of autonomy, mutual assistance, and institutionalized resolution of disputes. For example, an inscription records the συνέδριον’s arbitration between Cimolus and Melos in a dispute over some islands. It begins, “The δῆμος of the Argives judged, according to the decree of the συνέδριον of the Greeks, with the Melians and the Cimoleans agreeing to abide by what the Argives decide regarding the islands” (Ἔκρινε δᾶμος τῶν Ἀργείων κατὰ τὸ δόκημα τοῦ συνεδρίου τῶν Ἑλλάνων, ὁμολογησάντων Μαλίων καὶ Κιμωλίων ἐμμενὲν αἷ κα δικάσσαιεν τοὶ Ἀργεῖοι περὶ τᾶν νάσων ).104 The two states submitted their dispute to the council of the Common Peace, which by means of a decree chose a third party to settle the matter. And while the Common Peace claimed to bring the European Greeks into a loose federation, it did not disband all other, pre-existing federations. Athens and Thebes lost their confederations after the battle of Chaeronea, but we find the Boeotian, Achaean, Arcadian, and Aetolian leagues continuing to exist as formal bodies (Arr. 1.7.11; Diod. 17.3.4; Hyp. In Dem. 18; Plut. Alex. 49.14-15).105

Actions of the συνέδριον are often difficult to evaluate, either because of the nature or the source of our evidence. For example, Plutarch relates this anecdote (Phoc. 16.4): When Demades moved that the city join the common peace and the συνέδριον of the Greeks, [Phocion] would not accede before he knew what Philip would demand for himself from the Greeks. But he was overruled in this opinion because of the crisis. And when, almost immediately, he saw that the Athenians regretted their decision because they had to provide Philip with triremes and cavalry, he said, ‘I opposed the idea with this very thing in mind; but since it has happened, you should not take it hard, nor be downcast, but you should remember that your ancestors led sometimes and were led at others, but having done both well, they preserved both the city and the rest of Greece.’ 106 Δημάδου δὲ γράψαντος ὅπως πόλις μετέχοι τῆς κοινῆς εἰρήνης καὶ τοῦ συνεδρίου τοῖς Ἕλλησιν, οὐκ εἴα πρὸ τοῦ γνῶναι, τίνα Φίλιππος αὑτῷ γενέσθαι παρὰ τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἀξιώσει· κρατηθεὶς δὲ τῇ γνώμῃ διὰ τὸν καιρόν, ὡς εὐθὺς ἑώρα τοὺς Ἀθηναίους μεταμελομένους ὅτι καὶ τριήρεις ἔδει παρέχειν τῷ Φιλίππῳ καὶ ἱππεῖς, ταῦτ᾽ ἔφη φοβούμενος ἠναντιούμην· ἐπεὶ δὲ συνέθεσθε, δεῖ μὴ βαρέως φέρειν mhd*) ἀθυμεῖν, μεμνημένους ὅτι καὶ οἱ πρόγονοί ποτε μὲν ἄρχοντες, ποτὲ d*) ἀρχόμενοι, καλῶς d*) ἀμφότερα ταῦτα ποιοῦντες, καὶ τὴν πόλιν ἔσωσαν καὶ τοὺς Ἕλληνας.

Plutarch’s account suggests that the Common Peace, even before Alexander, struck many Athenians as a burdensome, perhaps even tyrannical, imposition. This anecdote has been taken as an illustration of how the ἡγεμών of the Common Peace could unilaterally make a δόγμα that was legally binding on all member-states.107 But we have no way of knowing whether Philip alone or the assembled σύνεδροι issued these particular demands; furthermore, the members of the Common Peace did swear oaths that enjoined them to wage war on any transgressors of the Peace, at the orders of the συνέδριον and the ἡγεμών (Tod II 177 ll. 17-22). The Athenians may have chafed at the demands put upon them, but their complaints do not necessarily mean that the Macedonians did anything strictly extra-legal.

The case of the rebellious Chians has also been interpreted as an example of autocracy, the ἡγεμών’s appropriating for himself alone the authority supposedly vested in the συνέδριον. An inscription shows that Alexander imposed a settlement, which forced the Chians to provide twenty triremes, banish the leaders of the rebellion, and admit the return of anyone recently exiled.108 Because the inscribed decree contains a list of orders “from the king Alexander to the assembly of the Chians” (παρὰ βασιλέως Ἀλε?[ξάνδρ]ου Χίω[ν τῶι] δή[μ]ωι ) (Tod II 192, l. 1), it has been taken as an example of Alexander’s exercising autocratic powers.109 Alexander clearly imposed the settlement, but there is reason to suspect that the συνέδριον of the Common Peace was also involved, as would be proper according to the oaths.110 The decree orders that those Chians who had been responsible for betraying the city to the Persians “will be exiles from all the cities sharing in the peace, and be outlawed according to the δόγμα of the Greeks” (φεόγειν αὀτοὺς ἐξ ἁπασῶν τῶν πόλεων τῶν τῆς εἰρήνης κοινωνου σῶν καὶ εἶναι ἀγωγίμους κατὰ τὸ δόγμα τὸ τῶν Ἑλλήνων ) (ll. 12-14). This is reminiscent of the arbitration between Cimolus and Melos, in which the συνέδριον chose, by means of a δόγμα, a third-party as arbiter.111 The decree further stipulates that any other internal disputes arising from the return of exiles is be judged ἐν τῶι τῶν Ἑλλήνων συνεδρίωι , “in the συνέδριον of the Greeks.”

To argue that the Common Peace was in practice nothing more than Alexander’s tool for imposing his will on the Greeks is to take an unnecessarily and unjustifiably polemical stance, but this is not to say that the Common Peace had no interest in maintaining the authority of the ἡγεμών. He could, according to the oaths preserved on Tod II 177, intervene in member-states under certain circumstances, such as in the case of a conspiracy against Philip or Alexander, or an attack on a member statelines 11-12 of the extant inscription prevent anyone from intervening in the “rule” of Philip or his descendants ([οὐδὲ τ]η?̀ν βασιλείαν [τ]ὴν Φ [ιλίππου καὶ τῶν ἐκγόν]ων καταλύσω ), and lines 17-22 empower the ἡγεμών to make war on any transgressor of the Common Peace. The author of Demosthenes 17 mentions “those appointed for the common safety” (οἱ τεταγμένοι ἐπὶ τῇ κοινῇ φυλακῇ ), a body apart from the συνέδριον, who were charged with seeing that the provisions of the Common Peace were carried out.112

In reference to such provisions, Badian says, “These are fair stipulations between equals. But in view of the royal commanders in the cities and the ἡγεμών’s unchangeable freedom of intervention they confer pretty wide powers: anything that the ἡγεμών disliked could easily be made to come under one of these heads, and it is clear that a great deal was (see Dem. 17).” 113 The pseudo-Demosthenic speech Badian cites offers some examples. The orator refers to the oaths of the Common Peace (10): For it has been written that, should any people overthrow the constitutions that were in effect in the participating cities when the oaths of the peace were sworn, then they will be enemies of all who participate in the peace. ἔστι γὰρ γεγραμμένον, ἐάν τινες τὰς πολιτείας τὰς par*) ἑκάστοις οὔσας, ὅτε τοὺς ὅρκους τοὺς περὶ τῆς εἰρήνης ὤμνυσαν, καταλύωσι, πολεμίους εἶναι πᾶσι τοῖς τῆς εἰρήνης μετέχουσιν.

He goes on to decry the example of Pellene, whose democratic government “the Macedonian” (probably Antipater) overthrew (νῦν κατελέλυκε τὸν δῆμον Μακεδών ) (17.10).114 There is no evidence that can reconcile this action with the terms of the Common Peace, and any attempt to do so must rely on a certain amount of invention.115

Because we are interested in Macedonian authority in Greece, a topic inseparable from Greek attitudes toward Macedonia, we do not necessarily need to determine whether Alexander or Antipater somehow abused the letter, or still less the intentions, of the Common Peace. Unlike power, which the Macedonians enjoyed through their own efforts, Macedonian authority depended on (and was limited to) Greek perceptions, oaths and treaties notwithstanding. Greek attitudes toward Macedonian hegemonyor at least the attitudes of Athenians, for whom we have the most and the best evidenceseem to have stood on an ambivalent understanding of the treaty, which they had had little choice but to enact.

Many of the Greeks saw the Common Peace as an infringement, if not an outright end, to their freedom. For this reason, according to Justin, the Spartans took no part in the proceedings at Corinth (9.5.1-3): The Spartans alone stood aloof from the king and his law, considering it to be servitude, not peace, which was not beneficial for the states themselves, but rather imposed by the victor. Soli Lacedaemonii et regem et leges contempserunt, servitutem, non pacem rati, quae non ipsis civitatibus conveniret, sed a victore ferretur. And other Greeks were clearly worried about the results of Philip’s “Peace”. Opinion at Athens was divided, or at least very cautious. Diodorus says that after the terms of the treaty were promulgated, the Athenians awarded Philip a gold crown and passed an ingratiating decree condemning anyone who plotted against him (Diod. 16.92.1-2). But at the same time, the Athenian Eucrates successfully moved a decree aimed at protecting the democratic government against perceived threats. The decree called for, among other things, penalties for any members of the Areopagus who might try to assemble after a tyranny had been established.116 The obvious futility of such a clause in a decreewould the imagined tyrant prosecute someone according to Eucrates’ anti-tyranny law?suggests that it was less significant as policy than as a public expression of anxiety over the Macedonian king’s new, institutionalized status. The next year, 337 bc, we find a similar juxtaposition of public stances regarding Macedonia: IG II2 240 records a decree moved by Demades to honor a Macedonian with προξενία , and at the same time Hyperides publicly attacked as unpatriotic honors paid to the Macedonians Alcimachus and Antipater (Harp. s.v. Ἀλκίμαχος ).117

Athenian fears were founded not so much on the treaty itselfwhich was not unprecedented in its termsbut on the circumstances under which it came into existence and was reaffirmed by Alexander. “Common Peace” was a shibboleth of 4th century political discourse, and T.T.B. Ryder has described the features held in common among the various “Peaces”, from the earliest use of the term (Andocides 3.17, in 391 BC) until the Common Peace of Philip in 338; the phrase refers to a specific treaty (something concluded, using a form or derivative of συντίθεμαι ).118 Furthermore:

The two features which Diodorus’ notices of the treaties show to be essential to what his source called Common Peace treaties are the following: first, that their principal clause laid down that all Greek states should be free and autonomous; second, that the treaties were made between all the Greeks, that is to say that they were not bilateral agreements limited to the two sides fighting a war, but were agreements of a general nature applicable to all Greeks equally, whether or not they had taken part in the preceding war.119

The Common Peace of 338 was exceptional because it was not an undertaking shared among equals, but a structure imposed by Philip after his definitive victory at Chaeronea. In this, at least, the Common Peace stood on the unprecedented military power of Macedonia, which Cawkwell calls “the central fact of this age.” 120 Previous treaties of “common” peace had aimed at winning influence without war (or in preparation for war), while invoking the name of “autonomy” to limit competitors’ influence. In the case of the King’s Peace imposed on the Greeks by Persia in 387/6 BC, the treaty insured that powerful Greek cities would continue to bicker among themselves, rather than uniting in any way dangerous to Persia. The treaty Philip orchestrated at Corinth in 338, on the other hand, demonstrated Philip’s power as much as it may have served his plans for the future.121

Our understanding of how the Greeks viewed this treaty must take into account the widespread rebellion against Macedonian hegemony that immediately followed Philip’s death, and the complete destruction of Thebes that was Alexander’s reaction. As soon as Philip was assassinated, in 336 BC, the Athenians, Aetolians, Ambraciots, Thebans, Eleians, and Messenians immediately tried to do away with any Macedonian controls (Diod. 17.3.1-5; Dem. 16.4, 7; Plut. Dem. 22.2). But Alexander seems to have coveted his father’s office of ἡγεμών, and when he had secured his position in Macedon, had waged a swift war against his enemies to the north, and had marched south with an army to deal with the rebellious Thebans, he met with the Thessalian league and the Amphictyons, both of whom “he persuaded to give him hegemony of the Greeks by a common decree” (ἔπεισεν ἑαυτῷ κοινῷ δόγματι δοθῆναι τὴν τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἡγεμονίαν ) (Diod. 17.4.1-3; Arrian 1.1.2; also Justin 11.2.5).122 Alexander defeated Thebes, but left its fate ostensibly in the hands of the συνέδριον, which obliged him by voting the utter destruction of the city (Diod. 17.14.1).123 Having destroyed Thebes and enslaved some 30,000 of its citizens, he was in a position to demand all the titles and honors granted his father. Again there was a meeting at Corinth, and again the σύνεδροι elected the Macedonian ruler στρατηγὸς αὐτοκράτωρ τῆς Ἑλλάδος (Diod. 17.4.9). After presenting the Greeks with this object lesson, Alexander crossed to Asia and presumably delegated at least the day to day affairs of Macedonian hegemony in Europe to Antipater.

The destruction of Thebes shows more clearly than anything else the extent to which the Common Peace was, for all its egalitarian terminology, forced upon an unenthusiastic Greece. The Greeks threw off the trappings of a Macedonian-imposed order as soon as it seemed Philip could no longer enforce it, and resumed them only in the presence of Alexander and his army. The evidence that a συνέδριον of some sort or another voted to raze Thebes changes nothing (Arr. 1.9.9-10; Diod. 17.14.1-3; Justin 11.3.8, 11.4.7; Plut. Alex. 11.11).124

In fact, the veneer of legality covering Alexander’s revenge on that city may have undermined the subsequent authority of the Common Peace. So harsh a punishment imposed by a συνέδριονprobably meeting in Alexander’s camp and representing only those states who fought against Thebes125must have set a grim precedent, and have shown to Greece the terrible possibilities of “legal” action under the Common Peace.

There are other reasons to think that, while serving Macedonian power in practical matters, the Common Peace was actually an impediment to Macedonian authority in Greece. The author of the pseudo-Demosthenic speech περὶ τῶν πρὸς Ἀλεξάνδρον συνθηκῶν (“On the Treaty with Alexander”)probably delivered in 331gives an interesting view of at least one Athenian’s attitude toward the Macedonian role in Europe.126 The speech is vehemently hostile to Macedonian interference in Greek affairs. The author complains that, among other things, Alexander has installed or supported tyrannies at Sicyon, Pellene, and Messene contrary to the oaths (Dem. 17.4, 7, 10, 16). But of more immediate interest to this study is the failure of the author to attack the treaty itself. Hammond has noted correctly that Demosthenes nowhere questions the right of Macedonia to hegemony.127 But the author’s silence is more profound than Hammond admits, for the speech never suggests that Macedonia enjoys any institutionalized privilege at all, but refers to the Common Peace throughout as if it were truly a shared enterprise among equals, of whom one has gotten out of hand. The closest he comes to granting Macedonia some special place among the signatories of the Peace is at paragraph 29: And there is no thought to what is going to happen, nor does anyone ponder how the tyrant is taking advantage of the common agreements. καὶ οὔτε πρόνοιαν περὶ τῶν μελλόντων εἶναι, οὔτε λογισμὸν οὐδένα παραγίγνεσθαι τίνα τρόπον χρῆται τύραννος ταῖς κοιναῖς ὁμολογίαις.

Even here, where he decries Alexander as a τ́ραννος, he speaks as though Alexander were simply taking unfair advantage, and not as though the κοιναὶ ὁμολογίαι represented an institutionalized Macedonian hegemony. The same treaty that gave Alexander his formal title of ἡγεμών provided Macedonia’s opponents with the language to challenge the authority of the title’s holder.

So far the discussion has treated the efficacy and legitimacy of the συνέδριον of the Common Peace, the often ambiguous relationship between the states of the Peace and its ἡγεμών, and the ways in which the treaty supported Macedonian power while undermining Macedonian authority. The mechanisms of the Common Peace operated on several occasions that we know of to resolve disputes between states or to reestablish governments that had been overthrown (as at Chios). Nor is every complaint from Greek mouths necessarily evidence of Macedonian tyranny. However, the circumstances under which Philip enacted the Common Peace and Alexander reaffirmed it showed a Macedonian will and ability to impose an order on Greece. And yet to whatever extent Macedonian power profited from Alexander’s holding the ἡγεμονία of the Common Peace, the language of autonomy, freedom, and non-interference that pervades the treaty sustained the rhetoric of those who would deny Macedonian hegemony, and the destruction of Thebes sustained their fear. When Alexander launched his expedition against the Persian empire, Antipater assumed the responsibility of managing this tense relationship while insuring that Macedonia remained powerful and secure behind Alexander’s eastward advance.

Before returning to our discussion of Antipater’s actions in Greece during Alexander’s absence, we should examine one other important aspect of the treaty: the military obligations the Common Peace imposed on its signatories. The council at Corinth that enacted Philip’s treaty-organization seems to have focused on forming an alliance of Greeks against Persia (Diod. 16.89.3): Accordingly, once the common council had been assembled at Corinth, [Philip] spoke about the war with the Persians and raised great hopes, and persuaded the council delegates to war. And finally, once the Greeks had chosen him as the commanding general of Greece, he began to make great preparations for the expedition against the Persians. Having prescribed to each city a levy of soldiers for the alliance, he returned to Macedonia. διόπερ ἐν Κορίνθῳ τοῦ κοινοῦ συνεδρίου συναχθέντος διαλεχθεὶς περὶ τοῦ πρὸς Πέρσας πολέμου καὶ μεγάλας ἐλπίδας ὑποθεὶς προετρέψατο τοὺς συνέδρους εἰς πόλεμον. τέλος δὲ τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἑλομένων αὐτὸν στρατηγὸν αὐτοκράτορα τῆς Ἑλλάδος μεγάλας παρασκευὰς ἐποιεῖτο πρὸς τὴν ἐπὶ τοὺς Πέρσας στρατείαν. διατάξας d*) ἑκάστῃ πόλει τὸ πλῆθος τῶν εἰς συμμαχίαν στρατιωτῶν ἐπανῆλθεν εἰς τὴν Μακεδονίαν.

In the context of a Pan-Hellenic crusade against the Persian empire, Macedonia did enjoy “hegemony”, in the most literal sense of military leadership. Diodorus calls Philip’s office στρατηγὸν αὐτοκράτορα τῆς Ἑλλάδος , “commanding general of Greece”; the adjective implies that in military matters Philip answered to no one. Other ancient sources give varying descriptions of Philip’s position. Polybius says that “They all chose Philip, as a benefactor of Greece, to be ἡγεμών on both land and sea” ( Φίλιππον ὡς εὐεργέτην ὄντα τῆς Ἑλλάδος καὶ κατὰ γῆν αὐτὸν ἡγεμόνα καὶ κατὰ θάλατταν εἵλοντο πάντες ) (9.33.7; cf. Plut. Mor. [Apoph. Lacon.] 240a). Aeschines refers to Philip’s “ ἡγεμονία against the Persian” (τῆς ἐπὶ τὸν Πέρσην ἡγεμονίας ) (Aesch. In Ctes. 132). The so-called Oxyrrhynchus Historian says that the Greeks chose Philip as “supreme general of the war with Persia” (Φίλιππον αὐτοκράτορα στρατηγὸν εἵλαντο τοῦ πρὸς Πέρσας πολέμου ) (POxy. 12 [FGrH 255] 5).128 Despite differences in wording, these sources describe a pan-Hellenic army, led by the Macedonian king, intended to wage war on Persia.129 In addition to the testimony of literary sources, the inscription commemorating the oaths sworn at Corinth also strongly suggests a συμμαχία , a treaty of military alliance, although that phrase does not appear on the stone (it has been restored at line 4, but “very doubtfully”).130

There is no doubt that Alexander’s forces when he crossed the Hellespont were indeed pan-Hellenic, or that the Greeks who had agreed to supply forces for the war met their obligations. But there is evidence to suggest that they did so with little enthusiasm, and that the Macedonian and “allied” forces were by no means equals in a shared undertaking. The distance between the promise of a unified Greek military force opposing Persia and the reality shows us much about the Common Peace, and will serve as an introduction to our discussion of how Antipater handled the first real crisis for Macedonian hegemony, the war with Agis III.

First of all, as Peter Green points out, there were always more Greeks fighting for the Persians than for Macedonia.131 In fact, without Greek mercenaries Darius could hardly have faced Alexander’s invasion at all, since for a century hired Greeks represented the only truly effective infantry that the Persians could put afield. Both Curtius (5.11.5) and Pausanias (8.52.5) claim 50,000 Greek mercenaries in Persian paya suspiciously round number, but one that suggests at least an order of magnitudewhile by all accounts Alexander’s invasion army in toto amounted to not much more than 30,000 infantry. Out of these 30,000, sources report only 7,000 troops from the other Greek cities.132 And most of these troops never appear in any battle accounts, such as the Athenian and Boeotian cavalry contingents (Plut. Phoc. 16.6; Tod II 197; cf. Diod. 17.57.3-4).133

There are scholars who see all of Alexander’s “allied” troops, soldiers from the Greek states, as hostages for their native cities’ good behavior.134 Green bolsters this argument by pointing to the long-standing tradition in the Macedonian court of having “Royal Pages”, namely sons of influential families who could both provide companionship for a young heir and serve as guarantors of their parents’ continued loyalty.135 Hammond dismisses the idea and points to Curtius’ comment that, in 331, Alexander was “completely confident in the goodwill and trustworthiness of the Greeks.” 136 But Hammond does not quote the whole context of this passage, which is rather more revealing (Curt. 4.10.16-17): Then letters from Darius were intercepted, in which Greek soldiers were urged to kill or betray the king, and [Alexander] wondered whether he should read them before the assembly, being completely confident in the goodwill and trustworthiness of the Greeks. But Parmenio dissuaded him, saying that the soldiers’ ears should not be tainted with such promises. Interceptae deinde Darei litterae sunt, quibus Graeci milites sollicitabantur, ut regem aut interficerent aut proderent, dubitavitque an eas pro contione recitaret, satis confisus Graecorum quoque erga se benivolentiae ac fidei. Sed Parmenio deterruit non esse talibus promissis imbuendas aures militum affirmans.

The passage says more about Alexander than about his Greek troops. The king wanted to make a bold gesture of confidence, but Parmenio stopped him from spreading Darius’ propaganda, which suggests that the veteran general had much less faith in the Greek allies than did Alexander. It might well be going too far to see the Greeks as hostages, but the weight of the evidence gives a picture of a Macedonian war in Asia, fought by Macedonian arms, with troops contributed by the Greeks being inferior in both quality and numbers.

Even at sea, the one theater of the Persian war in which the Greek allies outnumbered Macedonians, the evidence shows that Greeks participated unenthusiastically. The Athenians, in particular, seem to have had little interest in investing in the effort except on infrequent occasions when Alexander’s war directly threatened Athenian interests. In 334 BC there were 160 ships in Alexander’s fleet, of which only 20 were from Athens (Diod. 17.22.5), which we should compare to the total Athenian navy of approximately 400 ships.137 Clearly Athens was reserving the cream of her fleet, as we can see in the episode of 333 BC described at Dem. 17.20, in which an “allied” fleet under Hegelochus was unable to escort the Athenian grain ships through the Aegean, whereupon the Athenians produced another one hundred triremes.138 Moreover, Arrian says that in 334 Alexander was unwilling to send the fleet to fight the Persians, who were anchored off Mycale, because his own fleet was “untrained” (οὐ μεμελετηκώς ), and further, that “he was unwilling to hand over to the barbarians the experience and daring of the Macedonians in an unsafe venture” (τήν τε ἐμπειρίαν τῶν Μακεδόνων καὶ τὴν τόλμαν ἐν ἀβεβαίῳ χωρίῳ οὐκ ἐθέλειν παραδοῦναι τοῖς βαρβάροις ) (1.18.8). We have to wonder, with Green, what sort of ships the “allies” sent with Alexander, that he was so hesitant to commit them to battle, and why experienced Macedonians were mated with ineffectual Greeks at sea, especially since Macedonians had never been known for their seafaring.139 Alexander was to disband his fleet altogether in 332, choosing to rely instead on his ability to cut off the Persian fleet’s re-supply (Arr. 1.20.1). The allied contribution to Alexander’s naval efforts, then, consisted of unreliable ships and unreliable crews, and very few of them at that, compared to the fleet docked at Athens.

A more serious problem than numbers and quality, however, was the reliability of the allies generally. When Arrian gives his account of Alexander, arguing against sending the fleet into battle with the Persians, he reports the king saying (Arr. 1.18.8): And if the naval battle were lost, there would be no small blow to the initial opinion of the war, for a variety of reasons, but especially with the Greeks poised to revolt at any news of a naval defeat. καὶ ἡττηθεῖσι τῇ ναυμαχίᾳ οὐ μικρὰν τὴν βλάβην ἔσεσθαι ἐς τοῦ πολέμου τὴν πρώτην δόξαν, τά τε ἄλλα καὶ τοὺς Ἕλληνας νεωτεριεῖν πρὸς τοῦ ναυτικοῦ πταίσματος τὴν ἐξαγγελίαν ἐπαρθέντας.

Alexander seems to have realized that only continuous demonstrations of Macedonian invincibility would maintain a hegemony of any sort over the Greeks. As we have already seen, in 335 the Greeks heard a rumor that Alexander had died, and many states immediately cast off whatever trappings of Macedonian control they could, returning to the fold only when Alexander himself arrived (Arr. 1.7.6; Diod. 17.3.1-5; Dem. 16.4, 7; Plut. Dem. 22.2) (see above, pages 35 and 46). Later, in the period 332-330, Antipater’s forces alone were not able to deter many states from joining Sparta’s war against Macedonia. Despite the oaths and structure of the Common Peace, Macedonian authority depended on a reputation for military success that needed constant, on-going reinforcement, and which any defeat or sign of weakness would undermine.140

This foundation for hegemony was not to the advantage of Antipater, who represented the physical power of Macedonia in Greece, but whose position depended on Greek perceptions of Alexander’s invincibility. While Alexander’s title of ἡγεμών may have had little meaning as a formal definitionAlexander’s actions were neither determined by nor limited to his official office in the Common Peaceit nevertheless served as a token of authority and enabled him to demand and receive the Greeks’ cooperation (however grudgingly they may have given it). His general Antipater was left in Greece with no formal office of authority in Greece, in an unprecedented and therefore undefined relationship with the Greeks of the Common Peace, on the one hand, and Alexander on the other. The tensions among which Antipater worked come into view immediately upon Alexander’s departure from Europe, as Antipater had to manage both a steady supply of reinforcements for the Asian campaigns and an incipient rebellion in the Peloponnese.

· Antipater and Agis ·

Antipater commanded the Macedonian army in Greece during Alexander’s absence and was responsible for conducting any military actions that might be necessary to secure Macedonia and the Macedonian-imposed order in Greece (Diod. 17.17.5, 118.1, 18.12.1). His first test came in 331/0, when the Spartan king Agis III assembled an army and went to war with states of the Common Peace and subsequently with Macedonia itself. According to the oaths, the Greeks of the Common Peace were obliged to join in any military action deemed necessary by the συνέδριον and the ἡγεμών to enforce the peace and protect its signatories (Tod 177, ll. 17-22). Agis’ war tested this clause of the treaty, and since Alexander was busy in Asia after 334, we might expect Antipater to have assumed command of a Hellenic force; had he done so, he would also have assumed a certain authority as ἡγεμών-surrogate.141 But he did not. In fact, while most Greek states remained outside of this conflict, we have no indication in the evidence that the most militarily significant state, Athens, ever considered fighting for the Common Peace, or that Antipater sought Athenian help. The brief war between Antipater’s and Agis’ forces, which ended with a bloody battle at Megalopolis, decisively reinforced Macedonian power in Greece, but at the same time shows us the limits of Macedonia’s, and Antipater’s, authority.

Beginning in 335, the Persians had fought an active and largely successful war in the Aegean, under Darius’ competent commander Memnon and, after his death at the siege of Mytilene, Autophradates and Pharnabazus. Mytilene, Halicarnassus, Miletus, Tenedos, and Chios had all seen Persian victories (Arr. 2.1-2). Their efforts were no doubt helped by Alexander’s decision to disband his navy in 334 (Arr. 1.20.1). By 333, the eastern Aegean had, to use Badian’s phrase, “again become a Persian lake.” 142 In this context Agis III began organizing to face Macedonia with an army.143 After the battle of Issus, late in 333, Agis received from the Persian Autophradates 10 triremes and 30 talents with which to hire mercenaries (Arr. 2.13.6). In 332 Agis was in Crete, having captured several cities and enrolled 8,000 Greek mercenaries, men who were unemployed after fleeing from Darius’ side at the battle of Issus (Curt. 4.1.39-40; Diod. 17.48.1). So by the winter of 332/1, Agis had profited from the new influx of mercenaries displaced by Alexander’s victories in Asia, and the Spartan was assured that Alexander would be distracted by his on-going pursuit of Darius.144 So Agis went to war (Diod. 17.73.5; Aesch. In Ctes. 133).

E. Badian’s seminal article on Agis describes the coherence of his plan, which began in early 331 with a coordinated move by one Memnon (not the Persian commander but Alexander’s “General of Thrace”).145 Diodorus describes what happened (17.62.6): For Memnon, who had been installed as general of Thrace, having troops and being full of zeal, incited the barbarians, and rebelling from Alexander quickly assembled a great force and showed himself openly for war. So Antipater collected his whole army and advanced across Macedonia to Thrace and carried war to Memnon. And while these things were happening, the Spartans thought it the right time to make preparations for war, and called on the Greeks to come together in the cause of freedom. Μέμνων γὰρ καθεσταμένος στρατηγὸς τῆς Θρᾴκης, ἔχων δύναμιν καὶ φρονήματος ὢν πλήρης, ἀνέσεισε μὲν τοὺς βαρβάρους, ἀποστάτης δὲ γενόμενος Ἀλεξάνδρου καὶ ταχὺ μεγάλης δυνάμεως κυριεύσας φανερῶς ἀπεκαλύψατο πρὸς τὸν πόλεμον. διόπερ Ἀντίπατρος πᾶσαν ἀναλαβὼν τὴν δύναμιν προῆλθε διὰ Μακεδονίας εἰς Θρᾴκην καὶ διεπολέμει πρὸς τὸν Μέμνονα. τούτου δὲ περὶ tau=t*) ὄντος οἱ Λακεδαιμόνιοι καιρὸν ἔχειν ὑπολαβόντες τοῦ παρασκευάσασθαι τὰ πρὸς τὸν πόλεμον παρεκάλουν τοὺς Ἕλληνας συμφρονῆσαι περὶ τῆς ἐλευθερίας.

Memnon’s and Agis’ moves were well-timed. At no time between the sack of Thebes and Alexander’s death was Macedonia’s military preeminence in Greece more in doubt. There was hope among the Greeks that Darius would defeat Alexander when the two finally met in battle (Aesch. In Ctes. 164).146 Agis, by biding his time and staying out of trouble in 335, had avoided Thebes’ fate and gained for himself an opportunity. Alexander must have known of the trouble in Thrace, since he sent Amphoterus with a captured Persian and Phoenician fleet of 100 ships to watch the Peloponnese (Arr. 3.6.3, 3.6.9; Curt. 4.8.15). This is all Alexander did at the time. We do not know what transpired between Antipater and Memnon, but the two armies avoided battle, and Antipater clearly deemed his north-eastern margins secure enough that he could attend to Agis in the south. Badian suggests that Memnon had never anticipated facing the whole Macedonian army.147 There is no clear reason why Memnon might not have expected to do so, unless he counted on Agis to act sooner and to have divided Antipater’s attention and resources.148 Antipater, however, followed the strategy that Philip had so often used successfully: to buy time with negotiations and then to attack enemies one by one with all available force. By settling with Memnon, Antipater won the time he needed to increase his army. When he had gathered a force of 40,000, he marched south to face Agis (Diod. 17.62.1).

Agis went to war because Alexander seemed vulnerable, and he had reason to hope for victory because of growing dissatisfaction among the Greeks. Despite the Common Peace, the Spartan king was able to attract most of the Peloponnesian states to his side, even those who had sworn the oaths of the Common Peace. Sparta was joined by Tegea, Arcadia (excluding Megalopolis), Elis, the Achaean League (except Pellene), and probably the Aetolian League and Phocis (Diod. 17.62.7-8; Din. In Dem. 34-35; Curt. 6.1.20; Aesch. In Ctes. 165).149 McQueen has described these states and their relationships with Sparta in the middle and late 4th century.150 He notes that a strong Sparta under Archidamus III had led many Peloponnesian states into alliances with Athens and, later, with Philip’s Macedonia, but after Archidamus’ death in 338 and Sparta’s subsequent waning, Macedonian interference became less and less welcome.151 The list of Peloponnesian states is so nearly comprehensive that the omissionsthose states that did not side with Spartabeg explanation more than the inclusions. Corinth did not join Agis, but that city had a Macedonian garrison (Polyb. 38.3.3; Plut. Arat. 23). Nor did Pellene, but in 331 it was ruled by the tyrant Chaeron, a former wrestler installed by the Macedonians (Dem. 17.10; Paus. 7.27.7; Athen. 509b). Megalopolis had a long hatred for Sparta, to which fact McQueen adds, “While Megalopolis remained faithful to Antipater because she had most to lose in the event of a Spartan victory and possessed fortifications sufficiently strong to resist Spartan assaults, both the erstwhile Mantinean half of the League and Megalopolis’ former ally Tegea adhered to Agis.” 152 So the only Peloponnesian states that did not join in Agis’ war on Macedonia were those under direct Macedonian controlas opposed to those who were only members of the Common Peaceor who had long-standing hatred of Sparta.153

Agis’ war would ultimately fail, and its failure was sealed when Athens refused to join forces with the Spartans. Antipater’s army, when it marched south, outnumbered Agis’, but clearly did not possess an overwhelming advantage; the numbers of dead on both sides show that the battle at Megalopolis was protracted and bloody, no rout and no easy victory. The numbers suggest, too, that had the Athenians taken up arms for either side they could have been a “significant minority”, fewer in number than either combatant, but sufficient to confer a decisive advantage on whomever they joined.154 The Athenians were well aware of the impact they could have had. In 330 bc, after Agis had been defeated, Aeschines listed occasions on which the Athenians might have, had they acted, broken Macedonian power in Greece. The first was when Alexander had first begun his invasion of Asia, and Darius had offered the Athenians an alliance; the second was immediately before the battle at Issus, when Alexander had seemed trapped on the Cilician coast. The third was when Agis was planning his war (Aesch. In Ctes. 165): The Spartans had not only assembled a mercenary army for war, but had also destroyed the forces of [the Macedonian] Corrhagus. The Eleans had joined their side, and all the Achaeans except for Pellene, and all Arcadia except the city of Megalopolis, which was itself besieged and was expected to be taken at any time. And Alexander had passed beyond the Bear and almost beyond the whole inhabited world, while Antipater was a long time collecting his army, and the outcome was uncertain.155 Λακεδαιμόνιοι μὲν καὶ τὸ ξενικὸν ἐπέτυχον μάχῃ, καὶ διέφθειραν τοὺς περὶ Κόρραγον στρατιώτας, Ἠλεῖοι d*) αὐτοῖς συμμετεβάλοντο καὶ Ἀχαιοὶ πάντες πλὴν Πελληνέων, καὶ Ἀρκαδία πᾶσα πλὴν Μεγάλης πόλεως, αὕτη δὲ ἐπολιορκεῖτο καὶ kaq*) ἑκάστην ἡμέραν ἐπίδοξος ἦν ἁλῶναι, d*) Ἀλέξανδρος ἔξω τῆς ἄρκτου καὶ τῆς οἰκουμένης ὀλίγου δεῖν πάσης μεθειστήκει, δὲ Ἀντίπατρος πολὺν χρόνον συνῆγε στρατόπεδον, τὸ d*) ἐσόμενον ἄδηλον ἦν.

Aeschines’ speech was delivered only one year after Agis turned to challenge Antipater, and less than a year after Antipater’s victory at Megalopolis.156 The orator’s audience will have been familiar with whatever rumors and opinions have been current so recently, and so we have good reason to believe that Agis did seem to the Athenians to have a chance of breaking, or at least badly damaging, Macedonian power.

Athens did not, however, lend any meaningful support to Agis in his attempt to face Macedonia, to detach cities from the Common Peace, and most importantly, to inflict a defeat on Antipater’s army. Diodorus attributes Athens’ abstention to Alexander’s beneficence: “The Athenians remained quiet, who beyond all the other Greeks were favored by Alexander” (Ἀθηναῖοι μὲν οὖν, παρὰ πάντας τοὺς ἄλλους Ἕλληνας u(p*) Ἀλεξανδρου προτιμώμενοι, τὴν ἡσυχίαν ἦγον ) (Diod. 17.62.7). Modern scholarship has often adopted the view that the Common Peace and its implied alliance with Alexander and Macedonia prevented many Greeks from taking Agis’ side: “On the home front the great majority of member states, including Athens, stayed loyal to the pledges of the Common Peace and the alliance with Macedonia.” 157

Mere passivity, however, hardly constitutes evidence for loyalty, and apart from Athens’ failure to take up arms against Macedonia, there is no other reason to see Alexander, Antipater, or the Common Peace playing an authoritative role as the Athenians debated their policy. The oath sworn by members of the Common Peace, and promulgated on an inscription at Athens, included a pledge “to help in whatever way, should those being wronged request it, and make war on any transgressor of the common peace in whatever way, should it seem necessary to the common συνέδριον and should the ἡγεμών order it” ([βοηθήσω] καθότι ἂν παραγ [γέλλωσιν οἱ ἀδικούμενοι] κὰ πολεμήσω τῶ⁄⁄[ι τὴν κοινὴν ἐρ́ηνην παρ]αβαίνοντι καθότι ⁄[ἂν δοκῆι τῶι κοινῶι συνεδ]ρ?ίωι καὶ o*) ἡγεμ?ω?̀⁄[ν παραγγέλληι] ) (Tod II 177, ll. 17-22). But Athens did not lend any active support to Antipater, even though Sparta was unequivocally a “transgressor of the common peace”. On the contrary, from what evidence we have for the debate at Athens we can see the extent to which the crisis of Agis weakened Macedonian authority, both practically and rhetorically.

Athenian actions prior to 330 already contradict the idea that an expressed or implied alliance with Macedonia determined the city’s policy regarding Agis. The Athenians actively opposed Macedonian aims when they could, and when they could not, they gave the least support possible to Alexander’s efforts. Despite the oaths sworn by members of the Common Peace, to oppose anyone who should wage war on other members of the peace, the Athenians sent Iphicrates on an embassy to Darius in 333, and he remained in Asia long enough to be captured after the battle of Issus (Arr. 2.15.1-2). We cannot know the nature of his embassy, but he was in the company of representatives from the exiled Thebans and from Agis himself.158 W. Will, who argues that Athens was tolerant of Macedonian authority until the last days of Alexander’s life, supposes that the Athenian had been at Darius’ court since before the war.159 This might in fact make a stronger case that the Athenians were at least hedging, if not actively negotiating against Alexander, since it would mean that the Athenians had been in much more open contact with Persia before Alexander asserted the Common Peace, and that they maintained it afterward. Darius had offered Athens 300 talents to support the Theban rebellion. The offer was refused, “but everyone in Athens knew quite well whose money it was that Demosthenes now began handing out to the Theban exiles.” 160 So Athenian diplomatic contact was continuous from before Alexander imposed the Common Peace through the early stages of Alexander’s war in Persia, with perhaps no change in the people involved. Once Alexander’s war in Asia got under way, the Athenians did their mandated part, but with little enthusiasm, as we have seen. They contributed some ships and some soldiers to Alexander’s initial expedition in 334, and the ships were few and likely not the pride of the Athenian navy. The extent of Athenian participation the Persian war was a one-time show of cooperation in the immediate aftermath of Thebes’ destruction.

In 331, the decision not to join either side in the war between Sparta and Macedonia was the result of a debate among various parties in Athens, with at least one vitriolic advocate of war against Antipater’s Macedonians, the author of Demosthenes 17, περὶ τῶν πρὸς Ἀλεξάνδρωον συνθηκῶν (“On the Treaty with Alexander”). The orator is reacting to the perceived arrogance with which Alexander has treated Athens, with examples such as the occasion on which the Macedonians had sailed a ship into the Piraeus without advance warning, an act of arrogance which, argues the orator, set a dangerous precedent (26-27).161 For our purposes, the most interesting line of argument in the speech is the orator’s invocation of the Common Peace. He accuses the Macedonians of violating the letter and spirit of the treaty (Dem. 17.4, 7, 10, 16, and passim) and urges his audience to give Alexander the very treatment that the oaths mandate for violators of the Peace (Dem. 17.6): And it is now written in the conventions that he is to be an enemy, who does what Alexander has done to those sharing in the Peace, and his land with him, and all are to wage war against him. καὶ γὰρ ἔτι προσγέγραπται ἐν ταῖς συνθήκαις πολέμιον εἶναι τὸν e)kei=n*) ἅπερ Ἀλέξανδρος ποιοῦντα ἅπασι τοῖς τῆς εἰρήνης κοινωνοῦσι, καὶ τὴν χώραν αὐτοῦ, καὶ στρατεύεσθαι e)p*) αὐτὸν ἅπαντας.

In 323, Dinarchus uses a similar rhetorical tack when describing the situation in 331. He is criticizing Demosthenes for letting slip an opportunity to fight Macedonian power in Greece, an opportunity he describes thus (In Dem. 34; cf. Plut. Mor. 818e; Aesch. In Ctes. 164): All of Greece, unhappy with the state of things because of the traitors in each of the cities, hoped for some change from the evils surrounding it. d*) Ἑλλὰς ἅπασα διὰ τοὺς ἐν ἑκάστῃ τῶν πόλεων προδότας ἀχθομένη τοῖς παροῦσι πράγμασιν ἠσμένει μεταβολήν τινα τῶν κακῶν τῶν περιεστηκότων.

The “traitors” (προδότας ) here are not traitors to Macedonian authority, but traitors to Greek freedom, that is, those who maintained Macedonia’s power over the Greek states. The orator also portrays Antipater’s army as a threat to the Greeks and a tyrannical violation of the Common Peace which had no right to continue (17.16): Now the Macedonian162 has born arms so gratuitously that he has never even laid them down, but even now goes around armed as much as he can, and indeed more so now than ever. οὕτω τοίνυν ῥᾳδίως ἐπήνεγκε τὰ o(/pl*) Μακεδὼν w(/st*) οὐδὲ κατέθετο πώποτε, a)ll*) ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἔχων περιέρχεται kaq*) ὅσον δύναται, καὶ τοσούτῳ νῦν μᾶλλον πρότερον.

Both Demosthenes 17 and the passage from Dinarchus must be taken for the polemics they are, but they are nevertheless significant for our understanding of Macedonian hegemony. At Athens in 331 the Common Peace, with its language of mutual support and autonomy, was not serving as the institutional foundation for hegemony, but was participating in political discourse independently of, and contrary to, the interests of its Macedonian sponsors.

It is ironic that the bellicose speech favoring war should come down to us in the Demosthenic corpus, since the “real” Demosthenes seems to have been instrumental in keeping Athens out of the warhe is certainly criticized for this ever after by his enemies. Our evidence for Demosthenes’ position comes from Aeschines’ legal attack on him in 330 and Dinarchus’ in 323. While this evidence is no doubt as biased as possible against Demosthenes, it is nevertheless interesting in what it shows. Aeschines’ and Dinarchus’ accusations focus on the claim that Demosthenes showed a lack of resolve when Macedonian fortunes seemed to be on the wane and Darius was expected to defeat Alexander (Aesch. In Ctes. 164).163 Demosthenes was especially open to accusations of currying favor with Alexander, since he had probably supported an embassy to secure the return of Athenians whom Alexander had captured at Granicus; this led to claims that the orator had adopted a new attitude of reconciliation with Alexander (Arr. 3.6.2; FGrH 135 f 2; Aesch. In Ctes. 162).164

Aeschines himself, however, shows us how far removed from Athenian discourse was any idea of loyalty to Macedonia. He reports Demosthenes reveling publicly in the crisis Macedonia faced (Aesch. In Ctes. 167): And again when you twirled around in a circle on the podium and said, as if you were working against Alexander, ‘I admit that I organized the Laconian uprising, I admit that I am causing the Thessalians and the Perraiboi to revolt.’ καὶ πάλιν ὅτε κύκλῳ περιδινῶν σεαυτὸν ἐπὶ τοῦ βήματος ἔλεγες, ὡς ἀντιπράττων Ἀλεξάνδρῳ· Ὀ῾μολογῶ τὰ Λακωνικὰ συστῆσαι, ὁμολογῶ Θετταλοὺς καὶ Περραιβοὺς ἀφιστάναι.’

Aeschines accuses Demosthenes of merely feigning hostility toward Macedoniaa claim we may take or leave. It is significant, though, that even a public figure opposed to joining Agis would speak favorably of the revolt in public, whether deceitfully or not. Aeschines gives further evidence that although Demosthenes opposed war with Macedonia, he was no friend of the Macedonian order in Greece. As he sums up his argument against Demosthenes in 330, after Antipater defeated Agis and Alexander’s final victory over Darius became known in Europe, Aeschines says (In Ctes. 234): And the city has been slandered because of Demosthenes’ policies during the recent crisis. If you crown this man, you will seem to be in agreement with those who are undermining the Common Peace, but if you do the opposite, you will release the people from these charges. διαβέβληται d*) πόλις ἐκ τῶν Δημοσθένους πολιτευμάτων περὶ τοὺς νυνὶ καιρούς· δόξετε δέ, ἐὰν μὲν τοῦτον στεφανώσητε, ὁμογνώμονες εἶναι τοῖς παραβαίνουσι τὴν κοινὴν εἰρήνην, ἐὰν δὲ τοὐναντίον τούτου πράξετε, ἀπολύσετε τὸν δῆμον τῶν αἰτιῶν.

The Athenians did as little as possible to help the Macedonians against Persia, and nothing to help them against Agis. The Athenians considered joining Agis, had some hope that Agis would be successful, and never (as far as the evidence shows) considered taking up arms to help Antipater. Furthermore, the evidence shows that the oaths of the Common Peace, far from helping to bind Athens to the Macedonian side, appear in the debate only as justification for rebelling with the Spartans. Even Demosthenes, who advised the Athenians to stay out of the war, seems to have been openly hostile to the Common Peace. It remains, then, for us to explain why Athens remained neutral. There are two possible explanations, and they are not mutually exclusive. The first reason has to do with the Athenians, and the second with Antipater.

It is possible, and in fact quite probable, that Demosthenes was not the only voice favoring caution in 331. The Athenian Phocion, while nowhere attested as having participated in this debate, almost certainly had something to say on the subject and, if so, almost certainly spoke for prudence. As Mitchel aptly puts it: Phocion was a most cautious general, and this caution in military matters, when translated to the βῆμα, became a policy of quietism which has been interpreted as being promacedonian. Actually, he had two basic rules, which can be deduced from all his actions and sayings: 1) Never fight until every possibility of negotiation has been exhausted; and 2) Not even then unless victory is assured or one’s back is to the wall.165

No one suggests, however, that Phocion was a pacifist or a coward; he was elected στρατηγός forty-five times and, despite his repeated advocacy of negotiation, he led Athens into battle against Macedonia at Euboea (349/8 BC), at Byzantium (340/39) and for the last time to defend the Paralia in 322, when he was in his nineties (Plut. Phoc. 12, 14, 33).166 Despite his opposition to Athens’ involvement at Chaeronea, the Areopagus appointed him in charge of the city’s defense, when it was feared that Philip would sweep down from Boeotia and take the city (Plut. Phoc. 16.4). Phocion opposed Athens’ joining the Common Peace, arguing that it was foolish to swear oaths without knowing how this would put the city under burdensome obligations (Plut. Phoc. 16.5; Suid. s.v. Δημάδης , 2.38), but later, when the Athenians regretted their decision, he advised them to abide by the terms of the treaty (Plut. Phoc. 16.6-7). Despite his resistance to the Common Peace, Alexander declared him φίλον καὶ ξένον , “friend and guest” (Plut. Phoc. 17.9). It is impossible to imagine that Phocion stayed out of the debate over Agis, and we might do well to consider Athens’ decision in terms of the “Phocionic rules” that Mitchel outlines.

If the Athenians had chosen to help Agis, they would have been wagering their future on two events: the defeat of Antipater by a Peloponnesian and Athenian army, and the defeat of Alexander by Darius (by the time news of Darius’ defeat at Gaugamela reached Greece, the decision had been made: see above, note 145, for the chronology I accept). If Antipater was victorious, then the Athenians would share punishment with Sparta, and they cannot have forgotten the fate of Thebes. If Alexander defeated Darius, then he would have had all the resources of the Persian Empire to bring to bear on rebellious Greek states.167 On the other hand, by failing to help Agis, Athens had nothing to lose and, potentially, just as much to gain as if they had joined in a successful war on Macedonia. If Agis defeated Antipater’s army and Darius defeated Alexander, then Athens would be free to re-stake her position as a leader of the Greeks. If Agis lost, but Alexander were also defeated, Athens could always face a greatly weakened Macedonia later. And if, as it happened, both Antipater and Alexander were victorious, the Athenians would not face the razing of their city. The effect of this, for events, was to keep Athenian hoplites away from Megalopolis and insure that the armies meeting there would be almost evenly matched. The effect for this discussion is to show that there is no reason to find Athens’ decision determined by the institutional strictures that would make assistance for Agis in some sense illegal or that would oblige Athens to join in opposing Agis.

Apart from Athenian policy, we might also explain Athens’ lack of participation by noting the lack of any evidence to suggest that Antipater asked for Athenian support. Had he issued such a request or demand, we might expect the author of Demosthenes 17 to have included it in his catalogue of Macedonian outrages, or Aeschines to mention it in In Ctesiphontem as further evidence for Demosthenes’ folly. We should, of course, avoid arguing from silence. But we do find signs of Macedonian anxiety over Athens’ policy in 331, but these do not suggest that Antipater considered using Athenian troops, even though Athens was on his path to the Peloponnese and he had a Macedonian garrison in the area.168 Alexander himself was sufficiently concerned about the Athenians that he sent 3,000 talents and the famous statues of the tyrannicides back to Athens (Arr. 3.16.10; cf. Diod. 17.64.5 and Curt. 5.1.43).169 These lavish gifts were accompanied by no requests or instructions that we hear of and seem to have been a reward for staying idle. We should put this beside the political discourse at Athens, which grants no compelling authority to the Common Peace, and McQueen’s observation that Antipater’s only support in the Peloponnese were states that had their own reasons to hate Sparta, were under the direct control of Macedonian puppet-governments or garrisons, or (in the case of Megalopolis) came under direct attack. The only action of the συνέδριον of the Common Peace was a vote of support for Macedonia that led to no discernible action (Diod. 17.48.6; Curt. 4.5.11). We can conclude that Macedonian authority, as opposed to Macedonian coercion, neither prevented any city from joining Agis’ cause, nor gave any material benefit to Antipater’s efforts at putting down the rebellion.

In this first crisis of hegemony the Athenians granted no authority to Antipater, and he in turn assumed none over the Greeks. By failing either to ask or demand more general participation in the war from the states of the Common Peace, Antipater acted more as a Macedonian general than as a representative of the ἡγεμών of the Peace. While this was probably the more efficient course of action, it undermined Antipater’s position as General of Europe. As we saw earlier, this position was unprecedented and therefore undefined. For Antipater to exercise authority in this role, he had to act authoritatively; he might have done so by invoking the oaths of the Peace to elicit support against Sparta. Instead, he gave tacit acknowledgment of the Athenians disregard for the Common Peace and the idea that Macedonia derived any authority from it. He managed the army in Pella, while Alexander sent gifts to the Athenians. Alexander dealt with Athens by means of a bribe, and Antipater dealt with Sparta with direct coercive force, which, as we will see, he could only just afford.

· Antipater’s Army and Alexander’s Needs ·

The army with which Antipater faced Agis was large, large enough as events proved, and the circumstances under which Antipater prepared it are important for this study. The rapid depletion of Macedonian manpower, from its height in the 330s bc, has been the subject of extensive scholarship, much of it attributing Macedonia’s military impoverishment at the end of the 4th century to Alexander’s repeated drawing of troops to fuel his Asian campaigns.170 This is not the aim of our discussion here, but Alexander’s need for Macedonian soldiers and its effect on Antipater’s war merit attention. Alexander took with him to Asia between 32,000 and 43,000 soldiers.171 Antipater remained behind with 12,000 infantry and 1,500 cavalry (Diod. 17.17.5). As the war with Persia progressed, Alexander repeatedly called for Macedonian reinforcements.172 In the winter of 334/3, he sent the two taxiarchs Coenus and Meleager, with Ptolemy the son of Seleucus, to bring Macedonians from Greece; these men rejoined Alexander at Gordium in 333 with 3,000 infantry and 300 cavalry (Arr. 1.29.4).173 That year, Alexander received another 15,000 soldiers, of whom 6,000 were Macedonians (Curt. 3.7.8).174 In late 333 BC, 5000 infantry and 800 cavalry left Macedonia for Asia (Polyb. 13.19.2). There was another small levy that winter of 500 Thracian cavalry and 400 Greek mercenaries (Arr. 3.5.1). In 331, the same year that Antipater began collecting his army to face Agis, he had sent reinforcements to Alexander under Amyntas’ leadership (Diod. 17.49.1; Curt. 4.6.30, 7.1.37-40).175

Scholars offer differing assessments of the effect of this stream of soldiers from Macedonia to Asia. Hammond and Walbank say, simply, that the removal of so many Macedonians worked to Agis’ advantage, especially since he might have expected Antipater to divide his forces between Memnon and the Spartans.176 Adams goes further, suggesting that the levies caused Agis’ uprising by presenting Macedonia as an attractive target and by raising resentment among the Thracians and Peloponnesians, who themselves sent many mercenary troops to Alexander.177 These arguments stand on three points. First, that only 13,500 troops remained behind in 335 (Diod. 17.17.5). Second, that Diodorus says Antipater mustered his entire army (πᾶσαν ἀναλαβὼν τὴν δυν́αμιν ) to face Memnon (17.62.6). And third, that it seems to have taken Antipater several months to gather the army of 40,000 with which he faced Agis at Megalopolis (Aesch. In Ctes. 165).178 But Badian denies that Alexander drained Macedonia of its manpower, thus weakening Antipater’s army, and argues that young men newly of military age (the νέοι ) would number at least 10,000 each year.179 Badian’s numbers are convincing, and lead to the conclusion that Alexander did not entirely destroy Macedonia’s ability to make war, at least not by 331/0. There remain, however, instances in which Antipater certainly seems to have suffered a dearth of manpower, and Badian’s arguments leave too much unexplained. For example, Diodorus reports a shortage of Macedonian soldiers at the beginning of the Lamian War, 323 bc (18.12.2). Badian explains this by pointing out that the number of men under arms does not necessarily include all men of military age, but in doing so undermines his own argument“men of military age” were no substitute for the trained and armed soldiers sent east to Alexander. Likewise with Agis’ war: “Since Diodorus has foreshortened the whole story of Antipater’s mustering of his army, we simply cannot tell whether he could relieve a large number of Macedonians by hiring mercenaries. But it may be conjectured that, out of obvious concern for the Macedonians, he tried to do this during the winter, and that this is why he was so slow to collect his army.” 180 It seems unlikely at best that Antipater failed to face Agis immediately because, despite a sufficient pool of Macedonian men, he preferred to solicit, pay, and organize a mercenary army. It is even more unlikely that Alexander would have tolerated this approach to military management and have even endorsed it by sending 3,000 talents. The several months it took Antipater to collect his army and the money Alexander sent from Susa in late 331 suggest strongly that Macedonian military resources alone were insufficient for the task at hand. We might also note that according to Curtius’ account, when Amyntas was sent to levy Macedonian forces for Alexander in 331, the king told him that “many able-bodied young men were hiding in [his] mother’s house” (dixisse te multos integros iuvenes in domo tuae matris abscondi) and instructed Amyntas to recruit them as well (7.1.37-40); this would suggest that Alexander was taking soldiers from wherever he could, not skimming off a surplus of Antipater’s army.181

While it may be true that Alexander’s war against Persia did no irremediable harm to Macedonia, or at least not by 331, the steady stream of fighting men from Europe to Asia cannot have helped. In 331, Antipater faced an army larger than he could fight with the troops at hand and had to turn, as Agis had done, to mercenaries and soldiers from cities under direct and immediate Macedonian control. Megalopolis, Corinth, Argos, and Messene sent troops to the Macedonian army (Diod. 17.63.1; Paus. 1.6.4; Aesch. In Ctes. 165), but the Peloponnesian states, too, had that year sent to Alexander 4,380 soldiers who could have been used against Agis (Diod. 17.49.1; Curt. 4.6.30).

Alexander did give Antipater support, in the form of the triremes sent to Crete and the Peloponnese (Arr. 3.16.10), and the money sent from Susa. But it is questionable to what extent these measures helped Antipater. Once the triremes are sent, we never hear of them again, and since the war consisted of a single decisive battle at Megalopolis, it is not clear that they could have had any effect except to re-establish a Macedonian presence in Crete. The money would certainly have been useful, but perhaps not for Antipater’s war against Agis. Adams says in his 1984 article, “Virtually all of the aid to Antipater, then, was indirect, and if one accept the earlier chronology of the war, even the financial aid would have reached Antipater after Megalopolis.” 182 While the “earlier” chronologyaccording to which the war took place entirely in 331is no longer tenable, the force of this statement remains largely intact. For if, as Bosworth and Badian suggest, Alexander sent the 3,000 talents in the middle of December 331, they would have reached Macedonia just at the beginning of the campaigning season of 330. Antipater must have already assembled his army of 40,000 by then, using whatever resources were at his disposal, and so Alexander’s money could not have been used to pay a retainer but would have provided only severance pay once Agis was dead and the rebellion crushed. Antipater was expected to provide Alexander with his needs for the Persian wars and maintain order in Greece, and he tried to do so. At this moment, with Alexander preparing for the decisive battle with Darius and Agis organizing the Peloponnese in revolt, the resources available to him were stretched thin. Because of the ever-increasing distance between the king and Pella, it will have been more and more difficult for Alexander to take into account Antipater’s needs, should he have been interested in doing so. Also, any help Alexander could provide was inevitably indirect and untimely.

Antipater’s evident difficulties in supporting Alexander and securing Greece were added to the lack of support afforded by the institutional basis for Macedonian hegemony. These problems arose from the loose, changing, and often ad hoc structure of what we call Macedonian hegemony. The Common Peace served to bring Greeks together under Alexander’s leadership for a war against Persia, but it was clearly not effective in securing Greek passivity under Macedonian control. Antipater owed his place to Alexander, who had installed him at Pella and on whose continued success the Macedonian hegemony depended. But as the war in Asia progressed, Antipater’s needs became less and less coincident with Alexander’s. This fact appears first during the months it took Antipater to assemble his army for the war with Agis. In the final section of this chapter, we will see more serious signs that the Macedonian “General of Europe” was increasingly on his own and increasingly unable to profit from any authority derived from Alexander.183

· Megalopolis and After ·

Badian’s 1967 article on Agis III was groundbreaking largely because it took Sparta’s efforts seriously.184 Megalopolis was a major battle, the armies as big as those at Chaeronea, and it was more fiercely contested than many more famous. Diodorus reports 3,500 killed from Antipater’s army and 5,300 from Agis’ (Diod. 17.63.3; Curt. 6.1.16). Adams notes, in contrast, that Alexander’s dead at Granicus, Issus, and Gaugamela combined were only 1,200.185 Despite Antipater’s months in preparation and the 3,000 talents Alexander sent him, and perhaps because of the numbers of Macedonian soldiers sent to Asia and spare support from Macedonia’s allies, the battle was both difficult and bloody. During the fighting Agis was injured and taken from the field, whereupon his army began to retreat; the Spartan king died, and Antipater was victorious (Curt. 6.1.1-17).

In the settlement after Megalopolis we see that the Common Peace, while having shown little or no currency while Antipater built his army for the war (except as rhetorical fodder for opponents of Macedonia), was still operative and could still be put to use. Diodorus, the main source for Antipater’s handling of the defeated Peloponnesians, says (17.73.5): In Europe, the Spartans, having fallen in a great battle, were compelled by this catastrophe to send an embassy to Antipater. He referred judgment to the common συνέδριον of the Greeks, and the σύνεδροι came together at Corinth and, with many speeches on each side, decided to pass the matter, undecided, along to Alexander. And so Antipater took as hostages fifty of the foremost Spartiates, and the Spartans sent ambassadors to Asia, asking him to give a pardon for their errors. κατὰ δὲ τὴν Εὐρώπην Λακεδαιμόνιοι μὲν ἐπταικότες μεγάλῃ παρατάξει διὰ τὴν συμφορὰν ἠναγκάσθησαν διαπρεσβεύεσθαι πρὸς Ἀντίπατρον· ἐκείνου δὲ ἐπὶ τὸ κοινὸν τῶν Ἑλλήνων συνέδριον τὴν ἀπόκρισιν ἀποστείλαντος οἱ μὲν σύνδεδροι συνήχθησαν εἰς Κόρινθον καὶ πολλῶν ῥηθέντων λόγων πρὸς ἑκάτερον μέρος ἔδοξεν αὐτοῖς ἀκέραιον τὴν κρίσιν ἐπὶ τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον ἀναπέμψαι. μὲν οὖν Ἀντίπατρος ὁμήρους ἔλαβε τοὺς ἐπιφανεστάτους τῶν Σπαρτιατῶν πεντήκοντα, οἱ δὲ Λακεδαιμόνιοι πρέσβεις ἐξέπεμψαν εἰς τὴν Ἀσίαν, ἀξιοῦντες αὐτοῖς δοῦναι συγγνώμην ἐπὶ τοῖς ἠγνοημένοις.

Our other accounts for these events, from Arrian, Dinarchus, Curtius, Justin, and Aeschines, generally agree, with the exception of Aeschines, In Ctes. 133. McQueen divides the settlement into four steps.186 There were negotiations with Antipater, deliberation of the σύνεδροι, Antipater’s demand for 50 hostages, and the Spartan embassy to Alexander (Arr. 2.13.4-6; Din. In Dem. 34; Diod. 17.48.1-2, 17.62.1-63.3, 17.73.5; Just. 12.1.6-11; Curt. 6.1.2-21). Aeschines, In Ctes. 133, conflicts with these sources only because he suggests that the hostages were to go to Alexander, not Antipater, and makes no mention of an embassy; given the exigencies of public oratory, this should not pose a problem.187 According to Curtius, the συνέδριον fined Achaea and Elis 120 talents, pardoned the Tegeans except the “ringleaders” (auctores), and refused to make a decision on Sparta (Curt. 6.1.20).188

Some have argued that Antipater’s decision to hand over the rebels, except Sparta, to the council of the Common Peace is an example of institutional, or even constitutional, hegemony at work.189 Certainly, the oaths sworn by members of the Peace included a vow to punish those who violate it.190 The refusal of the council to rule on Sparta, too, is appropriate, since the Spartans had not sworn the oaths. This explanation may obtain, for as we have seen the συνέδριον was not altogether inactive since its founding; it arbitrated between Cimolus and Melos, it was cited as the judicial body for the resettlement of Chian exiles, and it voted a gold wreath on Alexander, “because of the things he had done for the health and liberty of Greece” (ob res pro salute ac libertate Graeciae gestas) (Curt 4.5.11).191 But this list is sparse, and the closest historical parallel to the situation after Megalopolis is the “settlement” of Thebes. If we make that comparison we can see how useful the συνεδρίοι might have been to Antipater in 330, as a means to deflect Greek resentment away from the Macedonians, a function the council performed for Alexander in 335.192 The συνέδριον’s decision to turn Sparta’s fate over to Alexander, in turn, can be explained as an unwillingness to repeat the atrocity inflicted on the Thebans. If Alexander wanted to destroy Sparta he could, but the deed would be on his own hands. There might, however, be yet another interpretation, one more specific to Antipater’s own position in 330. Antipater needed a speedy, non-controversial settlement. As Adams notes: “The final battle with Agis had been too costly to allow for a second one, or to grant the initiative to any other dissident force.” 193 By involving the other Greek states in punishing Agis’ allies, Antipater could hope to defuse, at least for the moment, any lingering restlessness until he could take more permanent measures to discourage revolt.

Curtius’ account of Antipater’s caution after the battle offers still another motivation (6.1.17-19): Antipater did not fail to distinguish between the faces of those congratulating him from their actual feelings, but desiring to end the war he let himself be deceived. And although the outcome of events pleased him, nevertheless he feared because his deeds were greater than suited his station as governor. For Alexander had wanted the enemy beaten, but he was indignant, and not quietly, that Antipater had won, judging that his own glory had been appropriated. And so, Antipater, who was well aware of Alexander’s attitude, did not dare to be the arbiter of victory himself, but asked the council of the Greeks what it wished to do. Nec fallebat Antipatrum dissentire ab animis gratulantium vultus, sed bellum finire cupienti opus erat decipi. Et quamquam fortuna rerum placebat, invidiam tamen. quia maiores res erant quam quas praefecti modus caperet, metuebat. Quippe Alexander hostes vinci voluerat, Antipatrum vicisse ne tacitus quidem indignabatur suae demptum gloriae existimans, quicquid cessisset alienae. Itaque Antipater, qui probe nosset spiritus eius, non est ausus ipse agere arbitria victoriae, sed concilium Graecorum, quid fieri placeret, consuluit.

We should be wary of Curtius’ pervasive, almost programmatic, hostility toward Alexander, and certainly of any source reporting the thoughts of historical figures, but we should also avoid dismissing too hastily Curtius’ statements of Antipater’s fear and Alexander’s pique, as McQueen does.194 First of all, since the states of the Common Peace had sworn to hand violators over to the συνέδριον for judgment and punishment, Curtius’ excursus on what motivated Antipater is not necessary; the historian’s narrative would be quite coherent without it. He need not have made it up, nor is it isolated in his account. Curtius’ phrase “he was indignant, and not quietly” (ne tacitus quidem indignabatur) corresponds to his assertion, later, that (10.10.14): Certainly, Alexander was often heard to say that Antipater affected the trappings of a king, was more powerful than a governor should be, and inflated by the honor of his Spartan victory appropriated all that was given him by Alexander. Saepe certe audita erat vox Alexandri, Antipatrum regium affectare fastigium maioremque esse praefecti opibus ac titulo Spartanae victoriae inflatum omnia a se data asserentem sibi.195

Plutarch also suggests a mixed reaction to Antipater’s victory when he reports Alexander belittling the battle, saying (Plut. Ages. 15.4): Alexander, when he learned of the battle between Antipater and Agis, made a joke, saying, ‘It seems, gentlemen, that while we were defeating Darius here, there was a battle between mice in Arcadia.’ Ἀλέξανδρος δὲ καὶ προσεπέσκωψε πυθόμενος τὴν πρὸς Ἆγιν Ἀντιπάτρου μάχην, εἰπών·Ἔοικεν, ἄνδρες, ὅτε Δαρεῖον ἡμεῖς ἐνικῶμεν ἐνταῦθα, ἐκεῖ τις ἐν Ἀρκαδίᾳ γεγονέναι μυομαχία.

Given the scale and cost of the fighting in the Peloponnese Alexander’s joke, if we accept it, seems mean-spirited but also intelligible given the relationship between the king, his general, and the European hegemony.196 Megalopolis showed that Antipater could dominate the Greeks on his own, without Alexander. Antipater will have seen this, and the Greeks will have as well. Despite the difficulties he faced, the victory over Sparta was complete and unequivocal. Aeschines gives his impression of the extent to which Sparta was humiliated (In Ctes. 133):197

When the unfortunate Spartans are sent to Alexanderthey who were once worthy to be leaders of the Greeks, and who got into these problems only because they seized a temple and are now about to be hostages, archetypes of misfortunethey and their country are about to suffer what Demosthenes wished, to be judged over there by the one who defeated them and who had been wronged without provocation. Λακεδαιμόνιοι d*) οἱ ταλαίπωροι, προσαψάμενοι μόνον τούτων τῶν πραγμάτων ἐξ ἀρχῆς περὶ τὴν τοῦ ἱεροῦ κατάληψιν, οἱ τῶν Ἑλλήνων ποτὲ ἀξιοῦντες ἡγεμόνες εἶναι, νῦν ὁμηρεύσοντες καὶ τῆς συμφορᾶς ἐπίδειξιν ποιησόμενοι μέλλουσιν ὡς Ἀλέξανδρον ἀναπέμπεσθαι, τοῦτο πεισόμενοι, καὶ αὐτοὶ καὶ πατρίς, τι ἂν ἐκείνῳ δόξῃ, καὶ ἐν τῇ τοῦ κρατοῦντος καὶ προηδικημένου μετριότητι κριθησόμενοι.

There are times when a weak enemy is more useful than a dead one, and D. Mendels has suggested that Alexander may have preferred a more conditional settlement with Sparta.198 He suggests that a weaker “Spartan bloc” in the Peloponnese would have acted as a check on any ambitions Antipater may have conceived. Instead, Antipater eliminated Sparta as a military presence for the time being.

But by deferring to the Common Peace, which in turn deferred at least part of the decision to Alexander, Antipater avoided “affecting the trappings of a king”. The συνέδριον’s decision not to rule on Sparta, likewise, seems better explained as an act of caution than as an expression of constitutional integrity. Achaea and Tegea were inconsequential at this point, but for the Common Peace to presume to punish Sparta could have offended Alexander. Furthermore, had the council agreed to punish Sparta, the member states would have been committed to enforcing the judgment with arms if necessary, and they had already demonstrated their unwillingness to fight a war in the Peloponnese. The συνέδριον of the Common Peace, on this occasion, served both Antipater and the Greeks as a convenient means to avoid offending Alexander.

When Antipater recused himself from the decision, though, he further undermined his authority in Greece. For the time being it would make little difference, but when we return to examine the crises of 324-323 it will be important to recall that during the critical moments of 331 and 330, Antipater had self-consciously and publicly refrained from speaking with Alexander’s voice. The message must have been clear: affairs involving both Greeks and Macedonians would be decided by either the συνέδριον or by Alexander, and Antipater’s job was limited to exercising his army in the service of Macedonian security.

Alexander could not have begun his march east from Ecbatana toward India if Antipater had not secured Greece by defeating Agis. Kanatsulis says, of the destruction of Agis’ army: Nach diesem Sieg des Antipatros war Spartas Stellung in Griechenland vollends ershüttert. Die Herrschaft Makedoniens aber war von jetzt an in Griechenland während der ganzen Zeit der Verweserschaft des Antipatros bis zum Tode Alexanders gesichert; nur durch den lamischen Krieg ist die makedonische Herrschaft unter ihm noch einmal bedroht worden.199

Alexander seems to have been confident that this would be the case. He was at Ecbatana when he first heard of Antipater’s victory, and immediately upon learning this news he dismissed his Greek “allies” (Arr. 3.19.5; Diod. 17.74.3; Curt. 6.2.17). The consensus among modern Alexander-historians is that he “no longer needed the Greek allies even as hostages, and regarded his position as στρατηγὸς αὐτοκράτωρ (though not as ἡγεμών ) at an end.” 200 Alexander was looking east and thought himself quit of Greece.201

Although it was Antipater’s victory that secured Macedonian power in Greece and allowed Alexander to go on to other things, the king acted to weaken further his general’s authority in Europe. Plutarch says that, “covetous of stature in the eyes of the Greeks, he announced that the tyrannies were ended and that they might live according to their own laws” (φιλοτιμούμενος δὲ πρὸς τοὺς Ἕλληνας, ἔγραψε τὰς τυραννίδας πάσας καταλυθῆναι καὶ πολιτεύειν αὐτονόμους ) (Plut. Alex. 34.2).202 It is possible that Alexander dispatched this missive in response only to his victory over Darius, before he had news of Megalopolis. Even so, in Greece the announcement will have appeared in the context of Antipater’s victory.203 It may have been that from Alexander’s point of view the problems of maintaining a hegemony over the Greeks had been put to rest once and for all, that Alexander “knew that they would not risk destruction.” 204 The situation might have looked very different from Pella, however, to the man who would be directly responsible for intervening should any Greek state “risk destruction”. We should also remember, as Antipater can hardly have failed to do, that there was a strong possibility of Alexander’s being seriously wounded or killed during his march eastward, and that on every previous occasion when the king’s death was rumored (or even seemed likely) at least some of the Greeks had taken up arms. Antipater took steps to prevent any such uprising. In the summer of 330, he sent a force of 8,000 troops to Asia, and Curtius, who is careful to distinguish between Macedonian soldiers and Greeks, says that they were Greeks (7.10.11-12; cf. 5.1.40-41). Bosworth suggests that Antipater was trying to draw forces from potential troublemakers among the Greeks cities while at the same time retaining his own Macedonian forces.205 If this was his intention it failed, since at the same time as he was sending these Greek mercenaries off to Asia, Alexander was returning his Greek mercenaries to Europe. And Alexander again drew on Antipater’s military reserves, sending Sopolis, Epocillus, and Menidas from Nautaka to Macedonia to fetch still more reinforcements from Macedonia to the east (Arr. 4.18.1).

As Alexander decreed the Greeks free from tyranny and autonomous, Antipater was imposing ever harsher controls on the Greeks, to forestall further trouble. We know of his supporting tyrannies at Sicyon, Pellene, Messenia (Dem. 17.4, 7, 10, 16), and Rhodes (Diod. 18.8.1). There were pro-Macedonian garrisons at Pellene, Corinth, and the Cadmea, near the site where Thebes had once stood (close enough to Athens to serve as a reminder, if not an immediate threat). The measures Antipater took to secure Greece for Alexander were to chafe the Greeks more and more, and when the king returned from his march to India, he would be beset by embassies complaining about Antipater (Plut. Alex. 74.2; Justin 12.14.4).206 Whether he intended to or not, Alexander had, in the eyes of the Greeks, separated himself and his policies from Antipater and his.207

Whatever tensions arose between the king and his general in Europe cannot have been eased by other events during the year 330 BC. Shortly after Alexander left Ecbatana, Philotas and Parmenio were accused of plotting against the king. Philotas was executed after a hearing before the army, and Parmenio, who had remained behind in Ecbatana, was killed shortly thereafter.208 At the same time, Alexander arranged for the death of Alexander Lyncestis, Antipater’s son-in-law who had been held in captivity since 334/3 (Arr. 1.25.3; Curt. 7.1.6-8, 8.8.6; Diod. 17.80.2).209 Diodorus, speaking of later rumors that Antipater conspired in Alexander’s death, says that, “the murder of Parmenio and Philotas struck terror into Alexander’s friends” (τῆς Παρμενίωνος καὶ Φιλώτου σφαγῆς φρίκην ἐμποιούσης τοῖς φίλοις ) (Diod. 17.118.1). Plutarch, in his vita of Alexander, mentions this fear as a logical connection between his discussion of Parmenio’s death with that of Antipater’s negotiations with Aetolia (for which see below, page 108): “These events made Alexander a figure of fear to many of his friends” (ταῦτα πραχθέντα πολλοῖς τῶν φίλων φοβερὸν ἐποίησε τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον ) (Alex. 49.14).210 Fear is an entirely internal state and as such does not go very far in helping us interpret the effect of these deaths on subsequent developments. A more useful account of Antipater’s reaction, however, appears elsewhere in Plutarch’s corpus (Plut. Mor. 183f [Reg. et Imp. Apoth.]): When Antipater heard that Parmenio had been killed by Alexander, he said, ‘If Parmenio plotted against Alexander, who can be trusted? And if he did not, what must be done?’ Ἀντίπατρος ἀκούσας τὴν Παρμενίωνος ὑπ?̓ Ἀλεξάνδρου τελευτήν εἰ μὲν ἐπεβούλευσεν εἶπε Παρμενίων Ἀλεξάνδρῳ, τίνι πιστευτέον; εἰ δὲ μή, τί πρακτέον;

These two questions, better than a description of Antipater’s emotions, suggest that the deaths of Philotas, Parmenio, and Alexander Lyncestis redefined Antipater’s position in the structure of Macedonia. R.M. Errington says that the killings were a manifestation of “the growing gulf between the king’s interest and those of his country and people”, in that they reduced any political forms or structures to a personal dependence more suited to Alexander’s needs.211 This is persuasive, and it fits well with Antipater’s subsequent actions in Greece, which show an increased interest in securing his own position without reference to a larger hegemony under Alexander’s authority. The first part of chapter V will discuss these actions.

So in 331 and 330 BC, Antipater’s relationship with Alexander suffered a series of blows, and with it the perceived unity and authority of a Macedonian hegemony. We have already seen that the military needs of Alexander’s Asian war presented difficulties for Antipater as he assembled an army to match Agis; these difficulties were probably inevitable, problems Antipater might have expected upon assuming his responsibilities in Europe. The aftermath of the war with Agis, however, was a different matter. Alexander seems to have belittled his victory, announced an “autonomy” for the Greeks that Antipater could not hope to allow, and put to death Antipater’s colleagues under questionable circumstances. This, then, was the state of affairs between the two when Alexander marched east and left Antipater and Greek affairs for what would be a five-year absence.

· Conclusions ·

This chapter has examined the circumstances under which Antipater worked from Alexander’s departure from Europe until 330 BC. Nowhere is given an adequate definition of his position, apart from his status as a “general” whom Alexander charged with the “affairs” of Greece. The Greece Alexander left behind him was ostensibly bound by oaths of Common Peace, which seem to have entered into events and discourse inconsistently. The oaths were sworn at Corinth, both in Philip’s time and Alexander’s, under immediate threat of arms. The Athenians at least went straight home, voted Philip honors, and prepared to resist any attempt to overthrow their democracy. Alexander left Greece as quickly as possible, before the Greek states were entirely secured and indeed before the future of Macedonian affairs were secure, for he ignored Antipater’s and Parmenio’s advice to father an heir. While the mechanisms of the Common Peace worked to resolve disputes between states, in other regards the Macedonian-imposed order, both in its observance and its breach, elicited vocal complaints such as those in Demosthenes 17. From 335 until 331 Antipater provided levy after levy of Macedonian troops for Alexander’s campaigns, right up until the war with Sparta, for which he had to scramble and delay in order to build up an army sufficient to face Agis. Those of the “allies” that did not join in the revolt provided little help that we hear of, except for those states having their own grudges against Sparta or under direct Macedonian control. Nor was Alexander in a position to help Antipater immediately. Antipater defeated Agis, but the cost was high and the reward, as it seems, slight. At the end of this crisis we find Antipater moving in his role cautiously for fear of a jealous Alexander, summoning the συνέδριον to judge the minor participants in rebellion and sending the important decision to Alexander. Finally, we find Alexander and Antipater working at cross purposes, the former proclaiming Hellenic autonomy and freedom while returning all his Greek soldiers, while the other was setting up garrisons, changing governments, and trying to rid Greece of whatever elements might cause trouble to the Macedonians.

From these events and interactions we can see that while Antipater skillfully and effectively secured Macedonian power, he did nothing to establish himself as an authority in Greece. The Common Peace authorized Alexander to enlist ships and soldiers from the Greeks, but this authority seems to have been, in practice, limited to the Asian war and not transferred to Antipater. When Agis challenged Macedonia, anti-Macedonian voices at Athens used the language of the oaths to argue in favor of supporting Agis, while to our knowledge no one suggested that the Common Peace obliged Athens in any way toward the Peace. Alexander, in fact, tacitly acknowledged this with his gifts of gold and the long-before stolen statues of the tyrannicides. From Antipater’s conduct of the war and the settlement afterwards we can see that his position vis-à-vis Alexander further limited the authority he could claim in Europe, while adding to his difficulty in maintaining Macedonian power over the Greeks. Alexander’s war in Asia was a drain on Antipater’s resources, and Alexander’s rhetoric regarding the “autonomy” of the Greeks was largely incompatible with the practical measures Antipater took after 330 to insure continuing hegemony. From the perspectives of the Macedonians, of the Greeks, and of us students of Macedonian history, Antipater emerged from the crisis of 331-330 with unequaled (though clearly finite) power but with little or no authority in Greece.

This is an appropriate place to divide an analysis of Antipater, Alexander, and Greece. The war with Agis was the first important test of the Macedonians’ ability to turn the military and institutional foundation of their hegemony into useful authority over Greece, and it ended with mixed results. Beginning in 330 BC Alexander was increasingly distant from Europe and European affairs. This situation was utterly different from Philip’s campaign at Byzantium, or Alexander’s brief campaigns toward the Danube, when a “regent” remained behind to manage limited affairs for a limited time, and was never completely out of touch with the king. After 330 Alexander was unable to keep abreast of developments in Greece or to offer timely and practical assistance. He was moving east, would campaign in Bactria and Sogdiana the next year, then continue toward India, leaving behind, to function or fail on their own, whatever mechanisms or structures of power there were. And so the period between Agis’ destruction and Alexander’s reemergence in 325 bcwhen Antipater was left to define and secure his own position in Pella and to exercise a questionable authority in a Greece newly informed by the events of 331 and 330will be best treated not as an extension of 335-330, but rather as the immediate background to Alexander’s return from India in 325. But before we examine that final series of crises for the Macedonian hegemony, we should turn to Olympias, the other prominent Macedonian who engaged Greek affairs during Alexander’s absence.

— Notes for section 5 —

Note 79

D. Kanatsulis (1958/59).

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Note 80

D. Kanatsulis (1958/59) 32-33.

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Note 81

For the authenticity of the letter, see H. Berve (1926) 2.46, n.4; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 22, these contra F. Schachermeyr (1973) 93 and n.4.

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Note 82

D. Kanatsulis (1958/59) 26-27; E. Carney (1995) 371 and n.11.

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Note 83

E. Badian (1962) 81.

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Note 84

Kanatsulis (1958/1959) 33-34.

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Note 85

See I. Worthington (1984) 163 n.14. Arrian (3.6.6) describes Alexander giving important positions to those who had gone into exile with him during the “Pixadorus Affair” (described at Plut. Alex. 10.1-4): Harpalus, Ptolemy son of Lagus, Nearchus son of Androtimus, Erigyius and Laomedon sons of Larichus. Furthermore, whatever reservations Alexander may have harbored regarding the military commanders of Philip’s generation can only have been confirmed by the revelation that Attalus had entered into a correspondence with the (then) vocally anti-Macedonian Demosthenes (Plut. Dem. 22.2-3; Aesch. 3.77, 160, 219; Diod 17.3 and 5.1); cf. G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 169; N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 458.

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Note 86

P. Green (1991) 153.

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Note 87

See N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 23. On this occasion Alexander on his own initiative fought a battle against the Maedi, captured a city, and renamed it Alexandropolis; these ambitious acts did not sit well with Philip (Plut. Alex. 9.2-3).

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Note 88

N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 24 n.39, in contrast to H. Bengtson (1937) 15-19; cf. N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 158. While Thrace was certainly not “Greece”, it clearly was “Europe”, as is shown by the conjunction of terms at Arrian 2.7.5, when Alexander is enumerating his army’s advantages: barba/rwn te au)= *qra=|kas kai\ *pai/onas kai\ *)illuriou\s kai\ *)agria=nas tou\s eu)rwstota/tous te tw=n kata\ th\n *eu)rw/phn kai\ maximwta/tous pro\s ta\ a)ponw/tata/ te malakw/tata th=s *)asi/as ge/nh a)ntita/cesqai (“Of the barbarians, Thracians, Paionians, Illyrians, Agrianians, the most stalwart and fierce troops in Europe will be arrayed against the most indolent and soft peoples of Asia”).

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Note 89

H. Bengtson (1937) 15-19; cf. E. Carney (1995) 371-372.

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Note 90

E.M. Anson (1985); E.N. Borza (1990) 238; E. Carney (1995) 372.

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Note 91

See E.M. Anson (1985).

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Note 92

IG I3 89, especially l. 26; Staatsverträge II.186; B.D. Meritt, H.T. Wade-Gery and M.F. McGregor (1950) 3.313 n.61; R. Meiggs (1972) 423-434; N.G.L. Hammond and G.T. Griffith (1979) 134 136; N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 58-59. Cf. Tod II, 111 l.17, 177 ll.5, 7.

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Note 93

N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 62, bases this on the fact that the Macedones seem always to assemble in arms (Arr. 1.25.2, 3.26.1-3; Curt. 6.8.23, 7.1.6; Diod. 17.79.6-80.2, 18.16.1).

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Note 94

Cf. M.B. Hatzopoulos (1986) 291. Philip called an assembly (e)kklhsi/a) of the Macedones while Amyntas IV was technically “king” (i.e. had been acclaimed by the Macedones) (Diod. 16.4.2, 22.3, 71.2). Both Amyntas III and Amyntas IV were deposed by the Macedones, the latter in favor of Philip (Porphyr. fr. 1 in FGrH 3.691; Justin 7.5.10); see N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 60. But note E.M. Anson (1984) 312, who describes how, in practice, Macedonian kings generally chose their own successors. E.N. Borza (1990) 298 notes the confusion at Alexander III’s camp in 326/5, after he had been wounded fighting the Malli: “The uncertainty of the troops in this situation hints not only at anxiety over the loss of a leader, but also at a lack of procedure to select his successor.” I would suggest, however, that this utterly unprecedented circumstance and this (equally unprecedented) Macedonian king need not necessarily reflect on previous tradition; cf. E.M. Anson (1991).

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Note 95

Cf. 1.7.3; 1.10.2; 1.36.6; 2.8.4; 2.8.6; 4.29.1; 6.4.7; 7.8.2; 7.15.6;, 8.27.10; 9.6.6; 9.23.6; 10.3.4; 10.36.3; N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 171; N.G.L. Hammond (1993).

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Note 96

Justin says that “the Spartans alone stood aloof from the king and his law, considering it to be servitude, not peace” (soli Lacedaemonii et regem et legem contempserunt, servitutem non pacem rati) (9.5.1). Of the Greek islands, it should be noted, some seem to have joined the Common Peace and others to have made separate treaties with Alexander. For example Arrian tells us that Mytilene’s treaty was “with Alexander”, while Tenedos’ was “with Alexander and the Greeks” (Arr. 2.1.4; 2.2.2). Inscriptional evidence shows that Chios was a member of the Common Peace (M.N. Tod [1948] no.192, l.15). See also N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 72-73 and n.1.

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Note 97

Tod II 177 = IG II2 236 Nachmanson, H.A.I. 39; Syll.3 260; Staatsvertäge III.403. The most recent full treatment of the inscription is A.J. Heisserer (1980) xxiii-xxvi. At one time some thought this inscription to commemorate the renewal of the Common Peace by Alexander, but it is now agreed that this represents the original treaty of Corinth; see A.J. Heisserer (1980) 8.

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Note 98

T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 106.

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Note 99

E. Badian (1966) 39 n.13.

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Note 100

G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 167. Cf. G. Dobesch (1975) 102-103, who calls the Common Peace, “eine leere Hülse ohne politischen Inhalt.”

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Note 101

E.A. Fredricksmeyr (1982), speculates at length on Philip’s intentions regarding the Common Peace, but the scheme he sets forth - that Philip intended not only to defeat the Persian Great King, but to assume his title and become recognized as a god - is insufficiently grounded in evidence.

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Note 102

See T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 102-105.

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Note 103

For garrisons, A.B. Bosworth (1986) 7.

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Note 104

Tod II 179 = Syll. 3 261. Cf. T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 104.

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Note 105

Cf. T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 104; E. Badian (1961) 37 n.159; R. Sealey (1993) 213. For Aetolia and the Common Peace, see Staatsvertäge III.403.

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Note 106

While this story may appear in Plutarch’s biography of Phocion mainly to illustrate the subject’s serene wisdom, the Athenians’ changing attitudes toward the Common Peace is attested sufficiently elsewhere (notably in Dem. 17).

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Note 107

So A.J. Heisserer (1980) xxvi. Heisserer notes (xxiii-xxiv and n.3) the renewal of the Common Peace under Antigonus and Demetrius Poliorcetes, in 302 BC, the terms of which survive on an inscription from Epidaurus: IG IV2 1.68. ll. 75-76 = Staatsvertäge III 446. These lines say: “It is not permitted for the cities to demand penalties beyond those decided on by the συνέδριον, in addition to those imposed by the συνέδριον ” (peri\ de\ tw=[n e)]n tw=i sunedri/wi doca/ntwn mh\ e)ce/st[w tai=s] ⁄ po/lesin eu)qu/nas lamba/nein [par]a\ tw=n a)postellome/nwn sune/drwn). While this does suggest that the decisions of the συνέδριον were binding and exclusive, we should be cautious in accepting this later incarnation of Common Peace, in its details, as evidence for the Peace of Philip and Alexander.

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Note 108

Tod II 192 = Syll. 3 283.

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Note 109

Cf. V. Ehrenberg (1938) 23-24.

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Note 110

Arrian (3.2.7) says that Alexander decided the penalty, not that he decided the case alone.

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Note 111

Tod II 179 = Syll. 3 261.

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Note 112

A.J. Heisserer (1980) xxiv, believes that this refers to some sort of policing body, and that they acted as tools for maintaining pro-Macedonian governments in Europe. I would suggest, on the contrary, that the author of Demosthenes 17 is not referring to a formal body, but simply to the Macedonian presence in Europe. The wording of the phrase helps the orator contrast the supposed responsibilities of members in the Common Peace with his account of Macedonian tyranny.

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Note 113

E. Badian (1966) 39 n.13.

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Note 114

For Antipater’s part in this, see E. Badian (1961) 28, and below, page 74. Cf. J.R. Hamilton (1969) 91, ad Plut. Alex. 24.2: “On this occasion Alexander presumably acts independently, as ἡγεμών, without reference to the συνέδριον of the league.”

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Note 115

For example, N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 79: “The charges actually made [i.e. by the author of Dem. 17] are trivial. They were based on the more or less tacit assumption that the hegemon was bound to observe the rules and regulations imposed on the member states by the Charter of the Common Peace. But the assumption was false; for the hegemon clearly had emergency powers.” To introduce “emergency powers” here is to invent a technical justification for an act that, according to the evidence we have, seems decidedly ultra vires.

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Note 116

B. Meritt (1952) 355-359, no. 5 = SEG 12.87. For commentary see, M. Ostwald (1955), C. Mossé (1970), and C. Mossé (1973) 76 and n.23. R. Sealey (1993) 201, notes the futility of such a measure, arguing that it represents a public criticism of the Areopagus and Demosthenes. A.B. Bosworth (1988) 188 and n.1, adds to this, that “there is no reason to doubt that there was real fear of subversion when the measures were passed.”

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Note 117

G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 168 n.2.

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Note 118

T.T.B. Ryder (1965) xv-xvi.

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Note 119

T.T.B. Ryder (1965) xvi.

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Note 120

G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 164.

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Note 121

See E.N. Borza (1990) 225-227.

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Note 122

T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 106.

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Note 123

T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 103 n.5. For Theban losses and the numbers of Thebans enslaved, see Arr. 1.9.9, Diod. 17.14.1-3; Justin 11.3.8, and N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 203 and n.101.

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Note 124

This contra N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 203: “Alexander acted throughout with legality. Whether there was a full meeting of the Council or one attended only by representatives of the states which had sent troops was the responsibility of the Council. He must have guessed in advance that the Council would vote as it did, if it was to honor the charter of the Common Peace.”

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Note 125

For the composition of this council, see N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 203 n.102.

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Note 126

For the date, see G.L. Cawkwell (1961) 74-75. The scholiast to Demosthenes would put the speech in 336/5: “It was given at the beginning of Alexander’s rule” (o( me\n ga\r ei)/rhtai e)n a)rxh=| th=s kata\ *)ale/candron katasta/sews) (Schol. Dem. 211.1 [Dindorf 8.256, line 3]); but Cawkwell argues that the reference to the expulsion of tyrants from Antissa and Eresos must put the speech after 332; cf. Arr. 3.2.5-6.

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Note 127

N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 79.

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Note 128

Cf. N.G.L. Hammond (1994) 218 n.22.

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Note 129

Demosthenes describes Philip’s authority in the much less specific terms: “And Philip has been chosen ἡγεμών and master of all” (h(gemw\n de\ kai\ ku/rios h(|re/qh *fi/lippos a(pa/ntwn) (De Cor. 201). Here, Demosthenes is interested in elevating Philip to greatest, and broadest, heights of power and authority, in order to present Athens’ ultimately unsuccessful resistance in the most heroic possible light.

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Note 130

M.N. Tod (1948) 228. Because Arrian at one point mentions “the peace and the alliance with the Macedonians” (th=s ei)rh/nhs te kai\ th=s cummaxi/as th=s pro\s *makedo/nas genome/nhs) (3.24.5), it is possible that there was a formal alliance apart from the more general treaty of mutual assistance and autonomy, but the existence of a separate agreement has been debated. M.N. Tod (1948) 227-229, following U. Wilcken (1931) 43 and n. T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 150-151, argues against it based on the terms used in Dem. 17: “The speech leaves no doubt that there was a treaty which consisted only of a Common Peace agreement, that the Common Peace was not just one clause in a larger treaty.” But since the author of that speech, probably delivered in 331, is advocating armed resistance to Macedonia, it would be in his interest to gloss over a formal military alliance. A.J. Heisserer (1980) 3-20, cites Justin 9.5.4 and Arrian 1.9.9, both specific references to an alliance, and introduces as evidence an inscription from Athens, IG II2 329, which seems to be part of an agreement regarding the provisioning and discharge of troops. Its script dates it to the latter part of the 4th century, and the surviving text mentions ὑπασπισταί, Macedonian shield-bearing infantry, and contains the name Alexander. Accordingly, Heisserer concludes that “Philip’s relationship with the Greeks was based on two political acts, the first being a treaty of general peace (κοινὴ εἰρήνη) and the second a treaty of alliance (συμμαχία)”; cf. Tod II 183; Staatsvertäge III.403.II. Both of these would be renewed by Alexander in 336 (Dem. 17.4; Arr. 1.1.1; Justin 11.2.5; Plut. Alex. 14.1).

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Note 131

P. Green (1991) 157-158.

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Note 132

Diod. 17.17.3-5 mentions only 7,000 allies and 5,000 mercenaries out of 32,000 infantry, accompanied by 2,400 Greek cavalry out of 5,100. Justin 11.6.2 gives 32,000 infantry and 4,500 cavalry total; Plut. Alex. 15.1, 30,000-43,000 infantry and 4,000-5,000 cavalry; Arr. 1.11.3 approximates 30,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry.

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Note 133

G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 179 n.5. When Alexander captured Greek mercenaries who had fought on the side of the Persians, he dealt arbitrarily with them; this was certainly his prerogative as commander in the field. He sent some captured Greek mercenaries to labor in chain-gangs in Macedonia (Arr. 1.16.6), but held others in Asia and refused to release them to their countrymen (the Athenians captured at Gordium) (Arr. 1.29.5). Others he hired into his own army (Arr. 1.19.6; 3.23.8). He promising to return all captives to their home cities after the war in Persia was over (Curt. 3.1.9), but we hear only of his releasing Athenians in 331 BC, when he was interested in keeping Athens from revolting with the Spartan Agis III (Arr. 3.6.2). However much Macedonian authority may have suffered because of Alexander’s refusal to return these mercenaries, it would suffer much more in 324 when he demanded that the Greek states receive all those whom they had sent into exile and often therefore into service as soldiers for pay.

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Note 134

H. Berve (1926) 1.159; W.L.T. Adams (1984) 80; A.B. Bosworth (1988) 143; P. Green (1991) 157-158.

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Note 135

P. Green (1991) 158, but note W. Heckel (1986) 279-285.

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Note 136

N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 213 and n.18.

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Note 137

IG II2 1672b 266ff; 1628 22ff; 1629d 783ff. P.A. Brunt (1976) lvii n.71: “[Athens] could not man and equip them all, but put 170 to sea in 322 (Diod. 18.15.8), after sustaining losses; in 323 it had been decided to equip 240 (Diod. 18.10.2).”

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Note 138

The author of the speech describes this in most inflammatory language. For a decoding of the episode, see Cawkwell (1961) esp. 77-78.

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Note 139

P. Green (1991) 157 n.

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Note 140

A. Stewart (1993) 87, describes Alexander’s authority with the sociological term synergistic, that is, one based on charisma and perceived ἀρέτη more than on institutionalized offices or formal agreements. Cf. N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 16-23, 137-129.

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Note 141

H. Bengtson (1937) 49: “Die wichtigste Aufgabe und zugleich das wichtigste Recht, das Antipatros dem panhellenischen Bunde gegenüber besaß, war die Verfugung über die griechischen Bundestruppen, von denen er auf Verlangen Nachschübe an Alexander nach Asien leitete, oder die er zur Führung des Bundeskrieges in Griechenland, wie z.B. gegen Agis (S. 38), aufbot (Diod. 17.53.1).”

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Note 142

E. Badian (1967) 174.

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Note 143

For full discussion of Agis’ war and surrounding events, which does not belong here, see especially E. Badian (1967), E.N. Borza (1971), E. Badian (1994).

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Note 144

E. Badian (1967) 175-176; 179.

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Note 145

E. Badian (1967) 179. For Memnon, see K.J. Beloch (1923) 3.1 648; H. Berve (1926) no. 499, p.254; D. Kanatsulis (1958/59) 58; D. Mendels (1984) 131. This Memnon is an intriguing figure, since after he played his part for Agis, he remained in Alexander’s good graces; we find him reinforcing Alexander at the Hydapses in 327/6 (Curt. 9.3.21).

Regarding the problem of the chronology of Antipater’s war with Agis, I accept the view that it began early in 331. For arguments to this effect, see E. Badian (1967) 190-192; E.N. Borza (1971) 230-235; R.A. Lock (1972) 10-27; E. Badian (1994) 268-271. This chronology opposes that of G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 163-180, and A.B. Bosworth (1975) 30-31, who would put the war’s beginning in the middle of 331 based on two assumptions: a) Amphoterus would not have taken troops to Asia if a Greek war was impending, and b) Arr. 3.6.3 - Amphoterus ordered to support allies in the Peloponnese - and Curt. 3.13.15 - Amphoterus ordered to Crete - refer to the same event. E. Badian (1994) 268-271, argues persuasively against this view.

Regarding the end of the war, I accept the argument that the war was not over until the spring of 330. This view is based on the chronologies of E. Badian (1967) 189-191; E.N. Borza (1971) 230-235; A.S. Sofman (1973) 117-136; E.I. McQueen (1978) 43. This chronology was refined by Bosworth (1975) 36-37, who pointed out that Arr. 3.16.9 and Aesch. In Ctes. 165 show that when Alexander was at Susa, 331/0, the war with Agis was not yet settled. This revised chronology is critiqued and accepted by Badian (1994) 272-277.

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Note 146

For discussion of this passage see below, page 61 and note 163.

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Note 147

E. Badian (1967) 181.

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Note 148

D. Mendels (1984) 131 n.8, thinks that Memnon’s rebellion was an internal Macedonian affair, in other words, that Memnon sought to take over management of Greece, but not to bring an end to the Macedonian hegemony there. He notes Memnon’s subsequent position at Alexander’s court in support of this theory.

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Note 149

E. Badian (1967) 181-190.

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Note 150

E.I. McQueen (1978).

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Note 151

E.I. McQueen( 1978) 43-45. This was not universally true, of course. One Mnasias led a revolt at Troezen and set up a pro-Macedonian government in 338/7 (Hyp. Athenag. 31).

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Note 152

E.I. McQueen (1978) 50.

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Note 153

There has been debate over whether Aetolia, although not strictly a Peloponnesian state, joined Agis’ side. Diodorus, our main source for Agis’ allies, says nothing about Aetolia. The scholars who argue that it did join Agis note that Philip had dealt harshly with the Phocians in the 340s, and that Aetolia was to be a leader of the anti-Macedonian war that followed Alexander’s death; see A. Schäfer (1887) 203; H. Berve (1926) 1.237; D. Kanatsulis (1958/59) 58; E. Badian (1967) 181. D. Mendels (1984) 132, however, gives a persuasive summary of reasons Aetolia might have had for abstaining from the war: “In fact she was not at all interested in the strong Spartan block created at this point against Macedonia. As subsequent history shows, she liked to see a kind of balance of power between the various political blocks in the Peloponnese. Also Achaea joined the Spartan block, and she developed an appetite for the northern side of the Corinthian gulf. She may already then have held Naupactus. But even if she did not hold that city, she was willing to expand toward the area. This strongly conflicted with Aetolia’s interests. Hence one could surmise that she was not willing to participate in the Agian revolt. She could gain nothing by participating. Moreover, Aetolia understood that after the settlements of Philip II in 338/7 and Alexander’s in 335 which had weakened many potential powers (including presumably herself), prospects for success in a war against Macedonia were low. This must have been among the considerations of Athens. She refrained from participating this time, and as the events of the following years were to show, there is no reason to doubt that Aetolia likewise refrained.” We will examine Athens’ motivation for remaining neutral below; see especially page 63.

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Note 154

Diod. 17.63.3 gives 5,300 dead for Sparta and its allies; 3,500 for Macedonia and allies. Curt. 6.1.16 also gives 5,300 for the Peloponnesian dead, and says “not more than 1000” Macedonians died, with no figure for Macedonian allies.

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Note 155

Dinarchus mentions a rumor that Alexander was in India (Din. In Dem. 34). It impossible to know whether this was in fact current gossip at Athens in 331, or whether his account is colored by subsequent knowledge of Alexander’s campaigns.

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Note 156

For chronology of the war with Agis, see above, page 54 and note 145.

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Note 157

N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 214. Also, W.L.T. Adams (1984) 82; I. Worthington (1984) 164. R. Sealey (1993) 207, suggests that Athens’ absence from the war might be attributed to the nearby Macedonian garrison on the Cadmea, but this reasoning does not stand up to close scrutiny. As G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 179, has noted, garrisons were intended to buy time, in case of an uprising, for the main Macedonian army to reach the scene. If Athens had agreed to join Agis, they would have been agreeing to join battle with Antipater’s army. In this case, the troops on the Cadmea would have been inconsequential, insufficient either to face the Athenian army or to besiege the city. Since the Athenians had, at that time, 392 triremes and 18 quadriremes, they could well have expected to support the city during a siege, especially in the absence of any significant Macedonian naval presence in the Aegean - for the number of ships, IG II2 1627 ll. 266-278. We have reason to suspect that some Athenians considered Antipater not only to be vulnerable in the face of the Spartan coalition, but also to pose little risk to their own city. In early 331 the Athenians had debated sending ships to help Agis, but Demades defeated that proposal (Plut. Mor. 818e [Praec. Ger. Reipub.]). Since Cawkwell has shown that this debate over military aid for Agis in 331 was the occasion for Dem. 17, we can read in this context the orator’s assertion that “should [Athens] decide to use force against its misfortune it could easily destroy its enemies” (w(s tw=| sumfe/ronti/ ge proelome/nhn xrh=sqai kratei=n a)\n tw=n polemi/wn r(a|di/ws dunhqei=san) (Dem. 17.24); see G.L. Cawkwell (1961); E. Badian (1967) 182.

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Note 158

E. Badian (1967) 174; R. Sealey (1993) 205.

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Note 159

W. Will (1983) 71 n.138; see Sealey’s comments on this, R. Sealey (1993) 205 n.82.

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Note 160

P. Green (1991) 138. Sources: Din. In Dem. 10, 18-22; Hyp. In Dem. col. 17; Plut. Dem. 14.2, 20.4-5, 23.2-3; Aesch. In Ctes. 157, 160-161, 173, 209-210, 239-240.

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Note 161

The slope was not as slippery as he feared, however, since as we have seen in the previous chapter the Athenians seven years later felt free to turn away Harpalus’ armed flotilla, albeit with some apprehension. Alexander had also refused Athenian requests regarding their countrymen captured at Gordium, which was his right, but even so could not have helped his popularity in the city (Arr. 1.16.6, 1.19.6, 1.29.5, 3.6.2, 3.23.8; Curt. 3.1.9; FGrH 135 f 2; Aesch. In Ctes. 162).

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Note 162

J.H. Vince, in the Loeb edition of this speech, translates o( *makedw/n here as ‘the Macedonian king’, but it must refer to Antipater, not Alexander.

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Note 163

Cf. Din. In Dem. 34; G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 172-174; E. Badian (1994) 272-273. I. Worthington (1984) 164, would question this passage’s worth as a source, since Aeschines would want to paint Demosthenes in the worst possible light: “At this point Aeschines is criticizing him for having missed several opportunities of rebelling against Alexander, including that when the king was apparently hard-pressed before Issus. Since Aeschines is likely to employ every means possible to sway his audience, including hyperbole and distortions of facts, it is possible that he is here guilty of rhetorical exaggeration in his description of the Macedonian position, and tendentiously seeks to drive home his point that Demosthenes had missed an excellent opportunity.” But given Alexander’s subsequent success, it would be a dangerous strategy for the orator to invoke such a sentiment, one that was to be proven badly wrong, unless it had indeed been prevalent.

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Note 164

Modern scholarship, too, has accused Demosthenes of excessive caution in 331; see G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 179.

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Note 165

F. Mitchel (1973) 182.

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Note 166

L. Tritle (1988) 94-96, 108.

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Note 167

Demosthenes’ critics do not seem to take this into account, e.g. G.L. Cawkwell (1969), esp. 179-180. We must ask, and it is reasonable to suppose that experienced military men at Athens might have asked, If Antipater’s army is defeated, what then?

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Note 168

For this garrison and its possible effect on Athens’ decision, see note 157 above.

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Note 169

E. Badian (1967) 183 and n.2. Badian also connects Agis’ war with Alexander’s decision to return Athenians captured at Granicus (Arr. 3.6.2).

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Note 170

Most recently, W.L.T. Adams (1984), and A.B. Bosworth (1986).

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Note 171

Diodorus, 17.17.3, says Alexander took 32,000 infantry to Asia, presumably not counting the advance forces Philip had sent with Parmenio and Attalus. Plutarch, de virt. Alex. 327e and Alex. 15.1, says there were 43,000 troops in Asia when Alexander began his campaign; Polybius 7.19.1 (=Callisth. FGrHist 124 F 35) gives 40,000. See A.B. Bosworth (1988) 1-12.

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Note 172

Cf. A.J. Heisserer (1980) xxv: “Until he came into possession of Persian treasuries Alexander had only limited funds for hiring mercenaries or even for paying his own troops. The question of Alexander’s financial resources is a complicated one, but the sources attest to his general lack of funds and supplies (Arr. 1.12.9; 3.21.3; 6.23.4-6; Diod. 17.18.2; Plut. Mor. . 327e, 342d (De virt. Alex.); Plut. Alex. 15.1).”

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Note 173

W.L.T. Adams (1984) 80 and n.8 notes that Arrian distinguishes these from the neo/gamoi, the newly married men to whom Alexander granted a furlough in Greece.

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Note 174

A later passage of Curtius (7.1.37) refers to this levy, and suggests that some Macedonians might have tried to avoid service. Amyntas says to Alexander, “Surely you remember when you sent me to bring soldiers back from Macedonia, and you said that there were many able young men hidden in your mother’s house. And therefore you ordered me not to obey anyone but you, and to return to you those avoiding military service” (quippe meministi, cum me ad perducendos ex Macedonia milites mitteres, dixisse te, multos integros iuvenes in domo tuae matris abscondi. praecepisti igitur mihi ne quem praeter te intuerer, sed detrectantes militiam perducerem ad te.). For further discussion of this passages, see below, page 99.

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Note 175

For a general discussion of mercenary reinforcements to Alexander, including dates, sizes, and sources for the various levies, see G.T. Griffith (1935) 15-16, 27-30.

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Note 176

N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 54, 76-77. Also taking this view is D. Mendels (1984) 133.

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Note 177

. L.T. Adams (1984) 81 and n.11. In his argument that Alexander’s levies raised resentment in Thrace and the Peloponnese, he follows A.S. Sofman (1973) 117-136.

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Note 178

See Bosworth (1975) 36-37; Badian (1994) 272-278.

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Note 179

Badian (1994) 262-268.

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Note 180

Badian (1994) 268.

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Note 181

For further discussion of this particular incident, see below, page 99.

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Note 182

W.L.T. Adams (1984) 82.

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Note 183

Cf. D. Mendels (1984) 133.

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Note 184

E. Badian (1967), esp. 182, “It is truly amazing that Alexandrolatry had cause both the ancient sources and some modern scholars to treat [Agis’ army] with patronizing scorn.”

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Note 185

W.L.T. Adams (1984) 83. For Granicus, Arrian gives 115 (1.16.4-5), and Plutarch 31 (Vit. Alex. 16.7). For Issus, Diodorus gives 450 (17.36.6); Curtius, 452 missing and killed (3.11.27); Justin 280 (11.9.10); Arrian 120 “of any note” (2.10.7), and an anonymous historian also gives 1,200 (FGrHist 148 F 44.iv). For Gaugamela, Arrian gives 100 (3.15.6), Diodorus 500 (17.61.3), Curtius, “less than 300” (4.16.26).

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Note 186

E.I. McQueen (1978) 53-54.

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Note 187

See E.I. McQueen (1978) 54, and E.N. Borza (1971) 234.

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Note 188

W.W. Tarn (1927) 445, K.J. Beloch (1923) 3.1 649, N.G.L. Hammond (1986) 619-620, claim that the council referred all decisions to Alexander, despite Curtius’ being explicit on this point (cf. E.I. McQueen [1978] 52 n.455). McQueen (p.52) also suggests that the Tegeans’ light punishment was due to their perceived inability to resist pro-Spartan forces within and, because of the city’s light fortifications, Agis’ army without. For discussion of the many issues surrounding those exiled from Tegea, see A.J. Heisserer’s discussion of Syll. 3 306 (1980) 219-220.

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Note 189

See E.I. McQueen (1978) 52; W.L.T. Adams (1984) 29.

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Note 190

IG II2 236 = Tod II 177.

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Note 191

The context of this passage from Curtius undermines the whole event: “In which assembly [at the Isthmian Games] the Greeks, since they were of fickle temperament, decided that a delegation of fifteen men be dispatched to the king, who, because of the things he had done for the health and liberty of Greece, would carry a gold wreath as a gift for his victory [over Tyre].” (In eo concilio Graeci, ut sunt temporaria ingenia, decernunt, ut XV legarentur ad regem, qui ob res pro salute ac libertate Graeciae gestas coronam auream donum victoriae ferrent.) (Curt. 4.5.11). Curtius’ comment on the “fickle” nature of the Greeks suggests that such support for Alexander was not the general attitude of the Greeks.

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Note 192

Arr. 1.9; Diod.17.14.2, 17.13.6.

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Note 193

W.L.T. Adams (1984) 83.

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Note 194

E.I. McQueen (1978) 52.

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Note 195

J.C. Rolfe (1956) ad loc., points to Curt. 6.6.33 for Curtius’ use of titulo: ‘Ille [Craterus], omnibus praeparatis, regis expectabat adventum captae urbis titulo, sicut par erat, cedens.’

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Note 196

Alexander himself had been on the receiving end of similar jealously from his father, first when the young heir defeated the Maedi in 340, and again when Alexander’s attack had broken the Athenian and Boeotian ranks at Chaeronea (Plut. Alex. 9.1-3; Diod. 16.86.4). Curtius claims that Alexander never forgot the latter event, but continued to complain of the glory stolen by his father (8.1.23). All this could, of course, either support Curtius’ anecdotes regarding Antipater or undermine them as literary topoi.

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Note 197

The first part of the sentence refers to Sparta’s participation in the so-called Third Sacred War; the Spartans sided with the Phocians who had seized the temple of Apollo at Delphi. We should note that Aeschines describes Alexander as the one who defeated the Spartans at Megalopolis.

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Note 198

D. Mendels (1984) 134 and n.32.

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Note 199

D. Kanatsulis (1958/59) 62.

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Note 200

J.R. Hamilton (1969) 212 ad Plut. Alex. 42.5. Cf. F. Schachermeyr (1949) 238; E. Badian (1967) 190; U. Wilcken (1967) 147.

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Note 201

Cf. N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 77.

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Note 202

Plutarch’s choice of verb, filotime/omai, is not complimentary here.

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Note 203

Cf. G. Dobesch (1975) 110; D. Mendels (1984) 136.

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Note 204

G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 180.

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Note 205

A.B. Bosworth (1986) 7.

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Note 206

Cf. E. Badian (1961) 28 and n.87. G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 180 n.1 has questioned the value of these passages as evidence for Antipater’s harsh dealings with the Greeks, saying that Justin 12.14.4 “refers to Alexander’s execution of satraps, not to any acts of Antipater.” This is certainly the case, but his argument against the Plutarch passage - that “there is no proof that the (dubitable) anecdote in Plut. Alex. 74.2 concerns Greeks and not men from elsewhere in the large area administered by Antipater” - is unconvincing, since there is, equally, no proof otherwise. Cawkwell does go on to give better evidence, namely the decree of Polyperchon restoring to the cities all those who had been exiled “by our generals” (u(po\ tw=n h(mete/rwn strathgw=n) (Diod. 18.56). For the symbolic impact of the garrisons near Thebes, cf. R. Sealey (1993) 207.

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Note 207

W.L.T. Adams (1984) 83-84; E. Badian (1961) 28; P. Green (1991) 298; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 91 ad Plut. Alex. 24.2

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Note 208

All sources at H. Berve (1926) nos. 606, 802. See also R.M. Errington (1990) 105-107.

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Note 209

See H. Berve (1926) no. 37.

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Note 210

Cf. D. Mendels (1984) 138: “It is not accidental that Plutarch or his source connected the negotiations with the Philotas affair and not, for example, with subsequent acts of terror (Clitus, Callisthenes, etc.). It seems likely that Plutarch found this connection in his sources.” For Clitarchus as source for chapter 49 of Plutarch’s Alexander, see J.R. Hamilton (1969) liii and lviii-lix.

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Note 211

R.M. Errington (1990) 106-107. For treatments of the affairs of Philotas, Parmenio, and Alexander Lyncestis more full than is appropriate here, see E. Badian (1960a); E. Carney (1980); W. Heckel (1977a); F. Schachermeyr (1973) 326-336.

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(Section 6 of 9)

· Olympias ·

The previous chapter discussed how Antipater worked to maintain Macedonia’s (and his own) position in Europe, amid conflicting pressures from Alexander and from the Greeks, and from political structures as they were defined and political structures as they were realized. Out of this analysis emerged a picture of Macedonian authority that was at once dependent on the existence of the Common Peace and undermined by the terms of the treaty and the general lack of enthusiasm that the Greeks displayed toward the supposed pan-Hellenic war against Persia. We also saw that Antipater exercised power in Greece as a Macedonian general but did not assume authority either as a proxy for the ἡγεμών of the Common Peace or as Alexander’s voice in Europe; he did not call on the member-states of the Peace to contribute toward the war with Agis, and after the war he deferred to Alexander. Finally, we saw that Alexander’s proclamation of freedom and an end of tyranny in Greece flew in the face of Antipater’s efforts to secure Macedonian power there. We should now turn to Alexander’s mother Olympias, the only Macedonian in Greece whose status rivaled Antipater’s. Olympias is interesting in her own right, for there are few if any ancient Greek women as well documented as she, and by all accounts her career was remarkable, marking a fundamental change in the roles of royal women; as Elizabeth Carney writes: “before her royal Macedonian women were virtually invisible, while after her, in the Hellenistic period, queens often had important roles as co-rulers and regents.” 212 Her importance is such that the dynamics of the Macedonian hegemony from 335 to 323 BC are unintelligible without an examination of how she participated in the public sphere. Despite her importance, however, Olympias has not received worthy treatment from historians: the ancients are, to a man, hostile toward her, and until most recently modern scholarship has not produced a sufficiently sophisticated picture of her place in history.213 She usually appears either as a dutiful advocate of her son’s career, diligently performing an assigned office, or as a manipulative and ambitious threat to the organization of Alexander’s domain and the orderly succession of the Argead line. So, for example, regarding the well-attested quarrel between Olympias and Antipater, we find diametrically opposed interpretations. I. Kaerst blames Olympias for whatever problems arose between Alexander and Antipater: “Die Trübung des Verhältnisses des Königs zu seinem Feldherrn wurde wahrscheinlich noch gesteigert durch die Anklagen der herrschebegierigen und auf die Autorität des A. eifersüchtigen Olympias.” 214 N.G.L. Hammond, on the other hand, sees Olympias and Antipater as filling well-defined places in Alexander’s machinery of empire: “She and Antipater acted together (as Craterus and Antipater were to do later). It is clear that neither outranked the other.” 215 Neither of these interpretations is entirely accurate, although both contain elements of truth. The scholarly views of Olympias that see her as inherently divisive and utterly untrustworthy fail to consider the immediate foundation of her security.216 Those who would see her as doing only what Alexander bade her do in the interest of empire fail to grant her any foresight.

I mentioned the interaction between Olympias and Antipater as an example because this relationship had much to do with the politics of hegemony in Greece. The Macedonians were, in some sense, leaders of the Greeks, and these two individuals were, in some sense, leaders among Macedonians after Alexander went to Asia. For both Olympias and Antipater, position, authority and security derived most immediately from Alexander. Particularly in the early years of Alexander’s reign, neither could have hoped to survive, much less prosper, without the charismatic heir to the diplomacy and military adventurism of Philip. But to assume that the well-being of Alexander’s hegemony was the only concern for Olympias and Antipater is to deny them any foresight or prudence. From the vantage point of any year after 335 BC, either of these skilled political operators could have seen one of two possible courses for the immediate future: Alexander could live and prosper, or he could die, intestate and heirless. Olympias’ actions and her relationship with Antipater seem logical consequences of just such an apprehension, as I hope to show in this chapter. Her position was defined less by any title than by her actions, as we have already seen to have been the case with Antipater. She worked to advance Macedonian prosperity and power in Greecein this I agree with Hammond that she and Antipater “acted together”, at least in working toward a common goal. But apart from supporting the larger context which afforded her so much opportunity for action, she worked as well to define a position of autonomous power, security apart from Alexander. In this Olympias inevitably came into conflict with Antipater, whose position was very much like her own. Olympias, however, although commanding much less power than Antipater did by virtue of his generalship of the Macedonian army, seems to have enjoyed authority in Greek affairs to a greater extent. Once we have followed Olympias’ career from 335 to the end of 330, as we have done with Antipater, we will be in a position to examine the crises that beset the Macedonian hegemons of Greece in the last years of Alexander’s life, and the nature and limits of their authority that were debilitating to the Macedonian hegemony.

· Olympias’ Position ·

Olympias, who went by the names Myrtale, Polyxena and Stratonice before her marriage, was the fifth of Philip’s seven wives. He married her in 357, thus cementing a relationship between Macedonia and Molossia, and Alexander was born in 356.217 With Philip’s death and her son’s assumption of leadership in Macedonia and Greece, Olympias’ influence in affairs, her scope of action, and her authority increased dramatically; accordingly, it is not surprising to find numerous ancient and modern historians accusing her of having orchestrated her husband’s assassination.218 After Philip’s death, Olympias took an increasingly active role in Greek affairs. When her son invaded Asia in 335, she remained behind in Pella with Antipater.

Since neither Olympias nor Antipater seem to have answered to anyone other than Alexander himself, it is perhaps inevitable that they appear as rivals in our sources. Diodorus’ description of their relationship is typical (17.118.1): They say that Antipater, left by Alexander as general of Europe, was inimical towards the king’s mother Olympias. And at first he did not take her seriously because Alexander did not pay any attention to her complaints against him, but later, as their enmity grew and the king wished to please his mother in every way, out of piety, Antipater gave many indications of his dissatisfaction. φασὶ γὰρ Ἀντίπατρον ἐπὶ τῆς Εὐρώπης στρατηγὸν u(p*) αὐτοῦ καταλειφθέντα διενεχθῆναι πρὸς Ὀλυμπιάδα τὴν μητέρα τοῦ βασιλέως καὶ τὸ μὲν πρῶτον καταφρονεῖν αὐτῆς διὰ τὸ μὴ προσδέχεσθαι τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον τὰς kat*) αὐτοῦ διαβολάς, ὕστερον d*) αἰεὶ τῆς ἔχθρας αὐξομένης, τοῦ βασιλέως διὰ τὸ πρὸς τὸ θεῖον εὐσεβὲς πάντα βουλομένου τῇ μητρὶ χαρίζεσθαι, πολλὰς ἐμφάσεις διδόναι τῆς πρὸς αὐτὸν ἀλλοτριότητος·

Arrian reports Olympias’ “slanders” (τῶν διαβολῶν ) against Antipater (Arr. 7.12.5). And both Justin and Plutarch mention her writing Alexander many letters of complaint and calumny against Antipater (Justin 12.14.3; Plut. Alex. 39.7-14; Reg. et Imp. Apoth. 180d). These sources are all biased against Olympias, and any reported epistolary evidence should be held in suspicion. Carney has noted that the famous quarrel might be entirely fictional, invented later when Cassander, Antipater’s son, was interested in discrediting Olympias as a leader of Macedonians.219 Nevertheless, the nature of Olympias’ and Antipater’s position made tension between the two inevitable, and the course of events from 335 until Alexander’s death shows that the two often worked at cross purposes, to the detriment of Macedonian authority.220

Macedonia had, by the late 4th century BC, a long tradition in which power went to those who took it, and the political context of Alexander’s career was, for Macedonia and Greece in general, utterly unprecedented. In this context we should not assume that a person who acted politically necessarily held a clearly defined office and title which determined and limited political action; nor is it necessarily useful to explain or justify political actions in terms of institutions.221 For example, after the death of Olympias’ brother, she and her daughter held power in Epirus. G.N. Cross has argued that these two women were technically proxies for Alexander III (“the Great”), who became de jure “king” of Epirus by virtue of his descent from the late king’s younger sister.222 While this may well be true, it does very little to illuminate any political reality and may in fact obscure it. Whenever Alexander’s mother or sister acted, it is always possible for us to “justify” their actions by invoking some hierarchical path to Alexander, but this does little to explain what happened, why, or the consequences thereof. Formal titles, lines of succession, and duties of office constitute an explanation for a specific event only when the structure is secure and amply precedented. Olympias and Antipater could conceivably have worked in a spirit of cooperation for the perpetuation of Macedonian power, but only if their official actions took place in the context of formally defined and limited offices. On the contrary, in a setting that did not regard functional jurisdictions, two such powerful and capable people must have come into conflict, although not necessarily an overtly acrimonious one.

If we are to reject, as we should, arguments based on Olympias’ reported personality then her famous conflict with Antipater is explicable only in the absence of a well-defined office for Alexander’s mother. Hammond (who does not accept the Antipater-Olympias enmity), has argued that she did indeed hold an office and have a formal title; his work on this problem deserves close scrutiny, although I do not, finally, accept his conclusions. He argues that we can reconstruct the formal offices and titles of Alexander’s administration based on Diodorus, Justin, and Photius, because they rely heavily on Hieronymus of Cardia for their histories (or epitomes of histories) of Macedonian affairs, and because Hieronymus was himself a Macedonian official.223 The argument and evidence are as follows. Hammond sees Plut. Alex. 68.3, describing how Olympias and Cleopatra “divided” Antipater’s ἀρχή, as evidence that Olympias enjoyed a formal position in Greece. In addition he notes a passage in which Diodorus describes how in 319 BC Polyperchon invited Olympias to “take over the care of Alexander’s son, who was a child, and live in Macedonia with royal προστασία ” (ἐπιμέλειαν τοῦ Ἀλεξάνδρου υἱοῦ παιδὸς ὄντος παραλαβεῖν καὶ διατρίβειν ἐν Μακεδονίᾳ τὴν βασιλικὴν ἔχουσαν προστασίαν ) (Diod. 18.49.4). Hammond says that Polyperchon “was probably offering to her the position which she had held in the years 334 to 324 bc.” 224 Since the sentence that follows immediately in Diodorus says that Olympias had left Macedonia after a quarrel with Antipater, it does indeed seem likely that Diodorus or his source saw the offer as one of reinstatement. The question, though, is whether the word προστασία should be taken as referring to a formal office, rather than as a loosely defined position of authority. Hammond thinks it does; after summarizing Olympias’ actions he says, “For an office of such eminence we have only one title in the tradition, προστασία τῆς βασιλείας .” 225

We have comparative evidence for this word. Thucydides (2.80.5) says that the Chaeonians were led successively by Photius and Nicanor, each being προστάτης for a year.226 Hammond notes Molossian inscriptions, c. 370-368 and onwards, in which a προστάτης appears beside the king; accordingly, he suggests that Cleopatra was προστάτης in Epirus following her husband’s death.227 A decree from Amphipolis, c. 357 BC, has προστάτας responsible for inscribing the resolution of the assembly.228 More important for this argument, however, are passages reporting that Craterus also held προστασία after Alexander’s death. A fragment of Dexippus says (FGrH 100 F 8.4): Craterus was entrusted with the care of, and all the things pertaining to, the προστασία of the kingship, which was the function229 foremost among the Macedonians. τὴν δὲ κηδεμονίαν καὶ ὅση προστασία τῆς βασιλείας Κρατερὸς ἐπετράπη, δὴ πρώτιστον τιμῆς τέλος παρὰ Μακεδόσι.

Another fragment, this one of Arrian, also mentions a “ προστάτης of the kingship of Arrhidaeus” (προστάτης τῆς Ἀρριδαίου βασιλείας ) in connection with Craterus (Arr. Succ. F 1.3, ed. A.G. Roos and G. Wirth). Craterus’ reported προστασία, Hammond says, had to do with care for either “the king’s royal presence” or the “royal property” or both.230

Hammond’s article is a vital compendium of textual and epigraphical evidence for Greek administrative vocabulary, but the evidence does not allow us to see προστασία as an “office” in the strict, formal sense. The weight of evidence suggests that the term applies to positions of public responsibility generally and is applied on an ad hoc basis. For example, one Molossian inscription Hammond cites says that when the monarchy fell “someone holding a generalship assumed προστασία ” (στραταγοῦντος προστατεύοντος δέ ); in other words, in the absence of a de jure head of state, someone filled in.231 Diodorus uses the term inconsistently, now to refer to Perdiccas’ leadership in a battle (17.34.6), and now to refer to some idea of protection (17.23.2; 33.3.1). Furthermore, he often qualifies itτὴν τῶν βασιλέων προστασίαν at 18.23.2, τὴν βασιλικὴν προστασίαν at 18.49.4which suggests that the term is insufficiently precise on its own.232 Since Diodorus, whom we should expect to be relatively consistent due to his reliance on Hieronymus, offers differing and contradictory uses of the term, we may as well see how other sources for Alexander-history use it. Appian (Syr. 52) uses προστατεύω in reference to Antipater; and Arrhidaeus, the notoriously unfit brother of Alexander, seems to have performed many of the same functions that Hammond would assign to a holder of προστασία (Curt. 10.7.2; cf. Arr. Succ. F 1.3, ed. A.G. Roos and G. Wirth).233 With these we must conclude either that Olympias, Cleopatra, Craterus, Arrhidaeus, Perdiccas and Antipater all held the same office, or that words related to προστασία were general terms.

The traditional vocabulary of Greek politics was insufficient to describe Alexander’s empire, and in this unprecedented context nominal “offices” cannot have been anything but vaguely defined. Terminology is further confused by the many ephemeral arrangements that marked the period of the successors. For example, our sources must resort to both Greek and Persian nomenclature to describe Perdiccas’ function: he is χιλίαρχος, ἐπιμελητής, and στρατηγός by turns (Arr. Succ. F 1.3, ed. Roos and Wirth; Diod. 18.2.4; Plut. Eum. 3.6).234 As titles became increasingly fluid beginning under Alexander, the positions they represented carried less ex officio authority, and, more importantly, the converse is true: actions conferred power and status, and whatever titles followed served, at best, to legitimize.235

In 324 Olympias was in a position to send an embassy to Athens demanding Harpalus, but instead of trying to explain this with a formal definition for Olympias’ place in the Macedonian hegemony, we should instead look for a practical one. Her position was the product of a series of successful exercises. These often served the interests of Alexander’s empire, to be sure, but they also served Olympias. In fact, she may have been better prepared to operate in this new order than her male counterparts. Macedonian women were traditionally most powerful in matters of succession, that is, when established structures did not necessarily obtain.236 And, as Carney describes in her 1987 discussion of Olympias, a royal mother’s position was otherwise mutable: while the child was still heir, the mother’s and son’s interests would necessarily coincide, but with the accession of the son, their interests would almost certainly diverge.237 Thus, the protean nature of authority in Greece during Alexander’s in absentia reign might not have been very different for Olympias from life in Pella prior to 336 BC, when Philip was king and Alexander only a probable heir. Olympias’ Molossian heritage, too, may have served her well, since women in Epirus enjoyed more social and economic status than did most other Greek women.238 Operating from this background Olympias assumed a role that insured both her own prominence and growing tensions between herself and Antipater.

· Olympias’ Actions ·

Olympias maintained as close a relationship with her son as she could, given his distance from Greece after 335; this relationship was, after all, the sine qua non of her authority, the base from which she could use her own considerable abilities. She gave her son advice on religious matters, recommending a priest/soothsayer versed in the Bacchic and Argeadic rites (Athen. 14 659f).239 In 333, when her son was sick in Cilicia, she made a dedication at the temple of Hygieia in Athens (Hyp. Pro Eux. col. 19). She gave gifts of Alexander’s spoils to the god at Delphi in 333 (Plut. Alex. 25.4; FGrH 151 F 1; Syll. 3 I3 252 N 5).240 Alexander may well have instructed his mother regarding these gifts, but whether according to his will or on her own initiative, wealthy dedications to temples must have drawn attention to her as an arbiter of Alexander’s munificence.

The best evidence of Olympias’ assumption of authority in Macedonia is an inscription listing recipients of grain from Cyrene during a time of shortage (ἐν τῇ σπανοσιτίᾳ ) (SEG IX 2 = Tod no. 196). Among the list of state-names appear the names Olympias and Cleopatra (who must be Olympias’ daughter and Alexander’s sister). These two women are the only individuals listed; all other recipients are states, which has been taken to indicate that Olympias and Cleopatra were acting as heads of state in this matter.241 The inscription records Olympias as having received 72,600 μέδιμνοι of grain (ll. 6, 22), second only to Athens, which received 100,000 (l. 1). Cleopatra got 50,000 (l. 10), as did Argos, Larissa, and Corinth (ll. 7-9). Megara, Sicyon, and Rhodes each got 30,000 (ll. 14, 36, 12, 11), and the remaining states each received between 1,000 and 15,000 μέδιμνοι. These shipments were probably Alexander’s doing, and were probably not outright gifts but subsidized sales intended to keep local prices low during a time of shortage.242 Because the grain shipments are listed in diminishing order according to quantity, we can suppose that the whole list was inscribed at once, and can therefore speculate that the shipments were sent during a limited period.243 Unfortunately the inscription alone does not indicate either when the shipments occurred or which state or states Cleopatra and Olympias represented.

There is sufficient evidence for us to posit, with some argument, answers to both questions. The second of themfor which state or states did the two women receive grainis more straightforward. In the years immediately after 335 bc, while Olympias remained in Macedonia her daughter, Cleopatra, lived in Epirus, for she had married the king Alexander of Epirus (Diod. 16.91.4; Justin 9.6.1, 13.6.4; Plut. Pyrrh. 5.5).244 This man was also Olympias’ brother (Diod. 16.72.1; Justin 8.6.5, 17.3.15). Alexander of Epirus died on a campaign in Italy in 330 BC (Justin 12.2.4), and Livy says that his body was conveyed home “to his wife Cleopatra and his sister Olympias” (ad Cleopatram uxorem sororemque Olympiadem). This would put both mother and daughter in Epirus in late 330, although Olympias was probably merely attending her brother’s funeral, not currently residing there.245 On the other hand, Cleopatra was almost certainly acting as a state official in Epirus around that time.246 The Athenians sent an embassy to her, specifically, to express sympathy at the death of her husband (Aesch. 3.242). More important, though, is an inscription from Argos listing thearodochs (θεαροδόκοι ), officials in various πόλεις whose function was to receive sacred envoys.247 This list, dated to 330, names Cleopatra as theorodoch for the Epirote League, and Hammond draws our attention to a similar list for c. 360-355 BC, on which Arybbas (or “Tharyps”), who was then king of Molossia, held the office of theorodoch.248 From this evidence we can state with a degree of confidence that Cleopatra’s name on the list of grain-recipients represents Epirus.

If Cleopatra stands for Epirus, we must conclude that Olympias stands for Macedonia. First, the size of the shipments to both Cleopatra and Olympias suggest that the two were not receiving grain on behalf of the same state. It is difficult to imagine why Epirus would receive 122,600 μέδιμνοι, more than even Athens, while Macedonia, which would have suffered a shortage along with everyone else, received none. On the other hand, as B. Kingsley has noted, if Olympias represents Macedonia, and Cleopatra Epirus, they will have received 72,600 and 50,000 μέδιμνοι respectively, two reasonable figures and well in keeping with amounts listed for other states.249

On at least this one occasion Olympias took or was given authority as a representative of Macedonia. We might see this matter as essentially similar to the booty Olympias received from her son and gave to the temples at Delphi and elsewhere. The Cyrenean grain, however, is different in at least two ways. First, receiving over seventy thousand μέδιμνοι of grain for distribution was a far more public event than temple dedications. It implied not only wealth and a connection to power, but a share of sovereignty, or at least management of the state. This official act would have put Olympias more directly in competition with Antipater for authority in Greece than any other gifts Alexander sent to her from abroad. D. Mendels suggests that “The edict of Cyrene for the supply of corn to the Greek states may also reveal the emergence in Mainland Greece of something like two blocks: the ‘Alexandrian’, represented by Olympias and Cleopatra, leading the now almost united Epirus, and the ‘Antipatran’ ”.250 Mendels probably goes too far, particularly when he continues to argue that Alexander self-consciously supported a “zone of influence” for his mother against Antipater. In 331, the interests of Olympias, Antipater, and Alexander were still largely the same, and with a rebellion brewing in the south it is hard to imagine Alexander taking steps designed expressly to weaken Antipater’s control over the Greeks.251 Mendels is right, however, to note that the distribution of grain increased Olympias’ authority, and in doing so effectively weakened Antipater’s, as well as that of the Macedonian hegemony. Olympias was Alexander’s mother, and Antipater was notgifts of expensive baubles from a dutiful son were to be expected. Antipater was, however, στρατηγός of the Macedonian army, and historically he who commanded the army was the de facto political leader of Macedonia. If Olympias acted in a similar capacity, even if only to manage an effort at relieving a famine, then she took for herself an authority that would otherwise have been his. Taken in the context of Antipater’s war against Agis, the ensuing rhetoric of hostility toward Macedonia and Antipater, and the steps Antipater took in 330 to secure his power over the Greeks, Olympias’ public beneficence will have made a stark contrast to the harsher impositions of hegemony from the στρατηγός.

Also, while lavish temple dedications from wealthy individuals were ubiquitous, Olympias’ and Cleopatra’s names stand out on this list. For some reason, the Cyreneans chose to make two exceptions on their catalogue of states, recording personal names in places of the states they represented. They may have done so only to flatter Alexander’s mother and sister, but we might see in their choice a suggestion that Olympias and Cleopatra seemed, like Philip and Alexander, to hold particularized authority, independent of titles and undelimited either politically or locally.252 In other words, Olympias may have appeared, or may have presented herself, as a public figure of authority without a specific arena. Certainly, in the absence of formal definitions, an ambitious person would do well to redefine herself in as unlimited a way as possible, and some Athenian remarks on Olympias suggest that she did just that.

Hyperides’ speech in defense of Euxenippus has given historians problems because of the seemingly confused picture it offers of Olympias’ province. In the latter part of the speech the orator denies that his client Euxenippus pandered to Macedonians. After pointing out that Polyeuctus, the man bringing the charge, had been free to complain about the Macedonians at any previous time, he says (Hyp. Pro Eux. col. 21): But you never stood up there [in the συνέδριον] nor did you ever make a speech about these things, but now you hate Olympias in order to convict Euxenippus, and you say that he is a toady to her and the Macedonians. σὺ d*) ἐκεῖ μὲν οὐδεπώποτε ἀνέστης οὐδὲ λόγον περὶ αὐτῶν ἐποιήσω, ἐνθάδε δὲ μισεῖς Ὀλυμπιάδα ἐπὶ τῶι ἀπολέσαι Εὐξένιππον, καὶ φὴς κόλακα αὐτὸν εἶναι ἐκείνης καὶ Μακεδόνων·

The orator continues and suggests, rhetorically, that the jury is free to convict Euxenippus if, among other things, “you can show that he ever went to Macedonia” (ὃν ἐὰν δείξῃς ἀφιγμένον πώποτε εἰς Μακεδονίαν ). In this passage the orator includes Olympias among the Macedonians, and suggests that to have commerce with Olympias one must go to Macedonia. A little later in the speech, however, the orator describes how Olympias complained to the Athenians about their efforts to redecorate a statue of Dione at the temple of Zeus in Dodona, a cult-center in Epirus. Hyperides says (Hyp. Pro Eux. 19): After these events, letters of complaint came to you from Olympias, to the effect that the Molossian land, where the temple was, belonged to her; therefore, it was not appropriate for you to disturb a single thing there. ὑπὲρ τούτων ὑμῖν τὰ ἐγκλήματα ἦλθε παρ?̓ Ὀλυμπιάδος ἐν ταῖς ἐπιστολαῖς, ὡς χώρα εἴη Μολοττία αὑτῆς, ἐν τὸ ἱερόν ἐστιν· οὔκουν προσήκε[2ι]2ν ἡμᾶς τῶν ἐκεῖ οὐδὲ ἓν κινεῖν.

Historians have debated whether to take these passages from Hyperides’ speech as evidence that Olympias was residing in Epirus or Pella at that time.253 Unfortunately, neither excerpt is sufficiently specific to locate Olympias. Also, using this speech to date her move is to argue in a circle, since the speech has been dated to 331/0 based mainly on the passages pertaining to Olympias.254 The speech is nevertheless revealing of Olympias’ position. It suggests, first, that Olympias was seen as a figure of authority, and that her authority and Alexander’s could seem coincident. Hyperides tells his opponent that he should not simply invoke the names of Olympias and Alexander, but should wait until “whenever they command the δῆμος of the Athenians either unjustly or inappropriately” (ὅταν ἐκεῖνοι πρὸς τὸν δῆμον Ἀθηναίων ἐπιστέλλωσι μὴ τὰ δίκαια μηδὲ τὰ προσήκοντα ) (Hyp. Pro Eux. 19). The passage implies that the Athenians would acknowledge, or at least receive commands from Alexander or Olympias.255 Second, the orator associates her not only with the Macedonians, but with the Macedonians in Macedoniahe challenges the prosecution to demonstrate that his client “had ever been to Macedonia, or had entertained anyone from there in his house” (ἀφιγμένον πώποτε εἰς Μακεδονίαν ἐκείνων τινὰ ὑποδεξάμενον εἰς τὴν αὑτοῦ οἰκίαν ) (Hyp. Pro Eux. col. 16). Third, the problem over Dodona shows that Olympias was willing to claim “the Molossian land” as hers (αὐτῆς ), seemingly without reference to Alexander. The muddiness with which Hyperides delineates Olympias’ position has sparked debate over Olympias’ whereabouts, and this same obscurity suggests that her position in Greece was not necessarily clear to contemporaries, and therefore whatever authority she could claim was not necessarily contingent upon her place of residence, and not limited by any fixed office or title.256

· Olympias’ Move to Epirus ·

Olympias eventually moved from Pella in Macedonia to Epirus. The date of this move has been widely debated, but it is now possible to place it in the latter part of 330 bc and to see this event as an important development in the political dynamics of Macedonian hegemony in Greece. The traditional view of Olympias’ movements holds that, shortly after Alexander invaded Asia, she quarreled with Antipater and moved from Macedonia to Epirus in Molossia, where she soon came to control affairs of state; this happened around the time her brother Alexander of Epirus died, winter 331/0 BC.257 In its broadest outlines, this model satisfies the evidence, but before Olympias’ change of residence can serve as the basis for analysis of her authority, we should examine more closely the evidence and attendant circumstances.

Three passages indicate that Olympias left Macedonia sometime before her son’s death; all of them attribute the move to tension with Antipater. When speaking of Olympias’ later association with Polyperchon, Diodorus says (18.49.4), “And Olympias in previous times happens to have fled to Epirus because of an estrangement from Antipater” ( d*) Ὀλυμπιὰς ἐν τοῖς ἐπάνω χρόνοις ἐτύγχανεν εἰς Ἤπειρον πεφευγυῖα διὰ τὴν πρὸς Ἀντίπατρον ἀλλοτιότητα ). Pausanias mentions “Olympias, who had returned to Epirus because of her fear of Antipater” (Ὀλυμπιάδας δὲ διὰ τὸν Ἀντιπάτρου φόβον ἐπανελθούσης ἐς Ἤπειρον ) (Paus. 1.11.3). And Plutarch suggests that at some point Olympias took over Epirus and her daughter, Cleopatra, took some authoritative position in Macedonia, both actions to the detriment of Antipater (Plut. Alex. 68.4).

Based on these passages Hammond would revise the “traditional” date from 331/0 to as late as 324. Ignoring the alleged quarrel with Antipater, he argues that Alexander himself orchestrated his mother’s and sister’s movementswhile this argument involves interpretation of events in 324/3 BC, its sine qua non are the three passages from Diodorus, Pausanias, and Plutarch.258 Of these, the former two offer only general statements that Olympias left Pella at some point. Plutarch’s comment, however, admits of fuller interpretation (Plut. Alex. 68.3-5) (the second sentence is usually cited alone, but interpretation requires the surrounding context):259

The military difficulties that had happened earlier, and the wound he [Alexander] received fighting the Malli, and the great losses that were reported among his forces created doubt as to his safe return and set the subject people to revolt; it also created much injustice, greed, and arrogance among the generals and satrapsturmoil and unrest ran amok everywhere. And when Olympias and Cleopatra had formed a faction against Antipater, they divided the empire between them, Olympias taking Epirus and Cleopatra taking Macedonia. And having heard of this Alexander said that his mother had planned rather well, for the Macedonians would not have abided being ruled by a woman. d*) ἄνω στρατεία χαλεπὴ γενομένη, καὶ τὸ περὶ Μαλλοὺς τραῦμα, καὶ φθορὰ πολλὴ λεχθεῖσα τῆς δυνάμεως ἀπιστίᾳ τῆς σωτηρίας αὐτοῦ τά q*) ὑπήκοα πρὸς ἀποστάσεις ἐπῆρε, καὶ τοῖς στρατηγοῖς καὶ σατράπαις ἀδικίαν πολλὴν καὶ πλεονεξίαν καὶ ὕβριν [2ἐν]2εποίησε, καὶ ὅλως διέδραμε σάλος ἁπάντων καὶ νεωτερισμός. ὅπου καὶ πρὸς Ἀντίπατρον Ὀλυμπιὰς καὶ Κλεοπάτρα στασιάσασαι, διείλοντο τὴν ἀρχήν, Ὀλυμπιὰς μὲν Ἤπειρον, Κλεοπάτρα δὲ Μακεδονίαν παραλαβοῦσα. καὶ tou=t*) ἀκούσας Ἀλέξανδρος βέλτιον ἔφη βεβουλεῦσθαι τὴν μητέρα· Μακεδόνας γὰρ οὐκ ἂν ὑπομεῖναι βασιλευομένους ὑπὸ γυναικός.

Plutarch is writing here of events after Alexander’s return from the expedition to India, thus Hammond’s date of 324 BC. The passage as a whole, however, suggests another interpretation. Plutarch is not only describing the state of things in 324, but also how things had come to such a pass. Alexander was wounded fighting the Malli in 326 (Diod. 17.98.3-99.4; Arr. 6.9.11; Curt. 9.4.26-9.5.18; Justin 12.9.5-11). Dissent among the subjects and debauchery among the satraps had grown over time, to become apparent to Alexander only upon his return. In this context, we cannot read 68.3 as referring to events contemporaneous to Alexander’s return. The aorist διείλοντο with the temporal/causal indefinite ὅπου has the force of a pluperfect (cf. Xen. Anab. 1.2.17; Cyr. 5.1.19).260 This “division” of Antipater’s ἀρχή, then, took place sometime before Alexander returned from his Indian expedition. Thus we have a terminus ante quem of winter, 325 BC.

Plutarch’s description cannot provide a definite terminus post quem, but it might hint at one. Alexander apprehended how his mother and sister had divided his ἀρξηή, according to Plutarch, upon his return from India, so we might suppose that it had not yet happened when he left for places east of Ecbatana, in 330 BC. Here, however, we are on the shakiest of ground, and should turn to other evidence that might define the date of her move with more precision. Scholars have suggested that Livy 8.24.17saying that Olympias received the body of her brotherputs Olympias in Epirus before winter 331/0, but this shows only that Olympias attended the funeral.261 The other piece of evidence often cited as a terminus post quem are the shipments of grain from Cyrene, since whenever they happened, Olympias was probably still in Macedonia.262

The traditional date for the shipments, 330-326 BC, is based on Athenian evidence for a shortage of grain during that period, inscriptions honoring those who helped in the crisis and speeches prosecuting profiteers ( IG II2 360, 400, 407, 408, 409, 1628; Dem. 34.39-40; Dem. 42.20, 31).263 Also, the ancient sources say that Alexander met with envoys from Cyrene while he was on the road to Siwa, winter 332/1 (Curt. 4.7.6-9; Diod. 17.49.2-3).264 Thus it made sense to date these shipments of grain after this meeting and during the well-attested σπανοσιτία . However, Demosthenes complains, when attacking grain dealers in 327/6, that prices were already inflated in 335 (Dem. 34.39), and whatever shortage already existed must have grown worse when the Persians began to wage naval warfare in the Aegean in 333 (Curt. 3.1.19-21).265 An episode from that year shows how Persian activities hindered grain imports to Athens: the author of Dem. 17 describes how the fleet under Hegelochus could not escort the Athenian grain fleet through the Aegean until Athens produced another one hundred triremes.266 Finally, so large a purchase of grain from Cyrene suggests that Alexander was not yet in control of Egypt.267 So we may conclude, with Kingsley, that “there is no more reason to suppose that arrangements for grain purchases were made in Libya at the end of 332 than that they had been completed to the satisfaction of Alexander and the Cyreneans before that time.” 268

Further evidence appears in the form of another grain-transaction involving Cleopatra (Lyc. In Leocr. 26): And Leocrates, without regard for custom, country, or anything sacred, caused (as much as he could) even the gods’ aid to become for you something that could be exported.269 For living in Megara, where on a pretense he had brought your money, he exported grain from Cleopatra in Epirus to Leucas, and thence to Corinth. Λεωκράτης d*) οὔτε νομίμων οὔτε πατρίδος οὔθ?̓ ἱερῶν φροντίσας τὸ kaq*) ἑαυτὸν ἐξαγώγιμον ὑμῖν καὶ τὴν παρὰ τῶν θεῶν βοήθειαν ἐποίησε. καὶ οὐκ ἐξήρκεσεν αὐτῷ τοσαῦτα καὶ τηλικαῦτα τὴν πόλιν ἀδικῆσαι, a)ll*) οἰκῶν ἐν Μεγάροις, οἷς par*) ὑμῶν ἐξεκομίσατο χρήμασιν ἀφορμῇ χρώμενος, ἐκ τῆς Ἠπείρου παρὰ Κλεοπάτρας εἰς Λευκάδα ἐσιτήγει καὶ ἐκεῖθεν εἰς Κόρινθον.

G. Oliverio has suggested that the grain Leocrates bought was Cleopatra’s surplus from the Cyrene distribution.270 This makes sense, but his date for the event, 330-327following the traditional date for the Cyrene shipmentsdoes not. Leocrates had returned to Athens by 330 to stand trial (Aesch. 3.252).271 If we connect Leocrates’ grain with that from Cyrene, we must conclude that the large shipments to the Greek cities took place at least some time before 330.

The locations of states receiving grain from Cyrene give further support to this conclusion. Kingsley connects the grain with the Persian counter-offensive of 334/3, noting that the cities receiving grain were, with the exception of Elis, in some way threatened by the Persian forces; some, like Athens, were suffering because of naval warfare; and others were directly on the route a Persian invasion would take (cf. Arr. 2.1.1-5, 2.20.2, 3.2.6; Diod. 17.18.2, 29.1-4; Curt 3.1.19-21).272 The Eleans’ 10,000 μέδιμνοι of grain, attested by the inscription, is sensible around 333 BC, when they sent 150 mercenaries to Alexander at Gordium (Arr. 1.29.4), but would be strange indeed in 330, when Elis had sided in revolt with the Spartans and was besieging Megalopolis (Aesch. 3.165; Din. 1.34; Curt. 6.1.20).273 The evidence surrounding SEG IX 2, then, suggests that Cleopatra and Olympias received large shipments of grain from Cyrene some time before 331/0 (Agis’ revolt), and probably closer to 334/3, with Cleopatra acting on behalf of Epirus and Olympias acting on behalf of Macedonia. Thus Olympias probably did not leave Macedonia until at least 333 BC.

We have, then, a relatively sound terminus post quem at 333 (the grain shipments from Cyrene). We have a possible one at 331/0 (Alexander of Epirus’ funeral), mitigated but not contradicted by evidence that Cleopatra was acting as theorodoch in Epirus that year. And we have a suspicion based on Plutarch 68.3-5 that Olympias did not move until after her son marched toward India, in 330. Plutarch provides a terminus ante quem, Alexander’s return in 325 BC. In other words, we have returned to the traditional date: Olympias moves around the time Alexander of Epirus died. To say more than this it is necessary to look at a broader context and ask why Olympias might have exchanged Macedonia for Epirus.

The most commonly cited reason (among both ancients and moderns) is enmity between her and Antipater (Diod. 17.118.1; Plut. Alex. 39.7-14, 68.4; Arr. 7.12.5-6; Justin 12.14.3). Plutarch says that Alexander prevented his mother from interfering (πολυπραγμονεῖν ) in political and military affairs, going as far as to scold her on at least one occasion (Plut. Alex. 39.7). Thus the consensus has been that Olympias left to avoid continuing humiliation.274 Whether or not Olympias felt “humiliated” cannot serve as a focus for argument, but we can instead ask two questions: first, what advantage might a move to Epirus have held for Olympias?275 And second, since she did not leave Macedonia immediately upon Alexander’s departure, what circumstances might have caused her to do so later?

An answer to the first question is readily at hand. When Alexander of Epirus died, he left the infant Neoptolemus as his only heir (Plut. Pyrrh. 5).276 Since Macedonian women often became more powerful in matters of successionwhich we see most clearly with the death of Philip IIthe lack of an adult heir will have presented an opportunity not only to Cleopatra, but also to Olympias, who was both brother of the dead king and grandmother to the heir. In fact, the presence of both Macedonian women could have helped prevent any attempt at a coupArrybas, whom Alexander of Epirus had displaced with help from Macedonia, did have adult heirs, who might have sought to take advantage of any perceived weakness.277 Olympias’ marriage to Philip had brought Molossia and Macedonia together, and Cleopatra’s marriage to Alexander of Epirus had cemented the alliance between him and the Macedonian Alexander. So, Olympias’ presence in Epirus after Alexander’s death would have reaffirmed that relationship.278 We have already seen Olympias through Athenian eyes, as a public figure associated simultaneously with Alexander, with Macedonia, and with Epirus (Hyp. Pro Eux.; see above, page 88). A physical presence in Epirus would not necessarily have cost Olympias any of her status as a Macedonian, while granting her greater freedom of action and a more independent platform from which to exercise authority.

Why then did Olympias wait to move? I have already noted that Plutarch (Alex. 68.3-5) might suggest that Olympias left Macedonia in the latter half of 330 BC since the biographer indicates that the move happened after Alexander had departed on his Indian expedition. While this datum alone is tenuous, the possibility it raises finds support when we look at the larger political context of the period 331-330 (for which see the preceding chapter). Throughout 331 BC the Macedonians in Greece were occupied with the nascent war against Agis III of Sparta.279 With the coming of winter 331/0, the rebellion was yet unresolved, and both sides were accumulating forces for a decisive battle. The battle, extraordinary in its casualties on both sides, took place at Megalopolis in the spring of 330 bc.280 In the aftermath, the Macedonian hegemony in Greece seems to have been secured, both by the destruction of Sparta’s army and by the stern measures Antipater took to insure order.281 Shortly thereafter, later in 330, Alexander marched eastward from Persia and seems to have thought himself quit of Greece.282 In other words, during the winter of 331/0 the immediate future for Macedonian power must have been unclear; Antipater’s future must have been especially doubtful, since he faced a war against a large and (so far) successful army. On the other hand, later in 330 matters were much more settled, with Antipater victorious, active, and in Alexander’s absence more autonomous than ever before.

If Olympias was at all ambitious and at all interested in securing for herself a position of responsibility, authority, and powerand there is every reason to think that she wasthen Pella might have seemed to her a more opportune residence in the winter of 331/0. Antipater’s efforts to collect an army sufficient to face Agis must have taken him away from other affairs, a situation Olympias could have exploited. Second, Antipater’s death in the coming battle was a distinct possibility; that event would have begun a crisis of succession (of sorts), which would have been an excellent opportunity for Olympias, whose status in the Macedonian hegemony only Antipater, of those in Europe at least, could rival. After Megalopolis, however, Macedonia must have been much more limiting to whatever ambitions Olympias harbored, especially when compared with Epirus, which had no adult ruler but her own daughter.

The possibilities Epirus offered in contrast to the limitations of Macedonia after Agis’ defeat stand out more starkly when we consider the Epirote League. Two literary fragments, one of Arrian (F 1.7, FGrHist 156) and one of Dexippus (F 8.3, FGrHist 100), refer to parts of Europe that were under Antipater’s control during Alexander the Great’s life.283 Arrian refers to Ἤπειρος ὡς ἐπὶ τὰ ὄρη τὰ Κεραύνια ἀνήκουσα (“Epirus extending up to the Ceraunian mountains”), and Dexippus calls this ὅσα τῆς Ἠπείρου ἐξέτι Ἀλεξάνδρου στρατηγὸς αὐτοκράτωρ ἐτέτακτο (“the parts of Epirus [Antipater] controlled as plenipotentiary general under Alexander”). The portion of Epirus in question does not include Pandosia, Cassope, Thesprotoi, or Molossia, which formed the Epirote League mentioned on the Argive list of theorodochs. The date of the Epirote League is not certain, but the few indications we have suggest a date earlier between 335 and 326 bc.284 G.N. Cross explicitly connects its formation with Olympias’ move;285 while this may go too far, we can surmise that once an Epirote Alliance came into being, Olympias’ home at Molossia enjoyed a greater degree of autonomy from Pella and Antipater.

The direct evidence and broader picture of surrounding events point to this model: Olympias remained in Pella, acting on occasion in an official capacity, through the beginning of 330 BC. During this time she enjoyed an authority based on her own actions and her relationship with Alexander. Her actions, in fact, are more clearly authoritative than Antipater’s. Her assertion that the temple of Dodona was in her charge, for example, stood on no immediate threat of force and seems to have been advanced without negotiation; her claim stood only on her authority. Her handling of the grain-shipments, too, can be seen as the foundation for further exercises of authority. By representing Alexander officially in disbursing frumentary relief, Olympias demonstrated to the Greeks both her privileged relationship with Alexander (and the power he represented) and the potential she had for conferring benefits on those she favored. The grain-affair itself was not an exercise in authority, but it gave her the apparatus of authority: a perceived potential for coercion, and a perceived potential for material persuasion. After Antipater’s victory at Megalopolis, however, her possibilities for action seemed more limited, and her derivative authority less firm, since her son was increasingly invisible from Greece. At the same time, her brother’s death and the new Epirote League offered her greater independence and the opportunity to exercise more authority as a prominent figure in Epirus, and this without the loss of her identity as Macedonian and mother to Alexander.

· Olympias and Antipater ·

From 330 BC, then, the two most prominent Macedonians in Greece operated apart from one another, if not necessarily at cross-purposes. This state of affairs complicates the already nebulous and complex web of individual ends and institutional imperatives that we call a Macedonian hegemony. In this unprecedented context, Olympias described for herself an unprecedented position. Her actions proclaimed her to be a representative of state, by turns of Macedonia or her native Epirus. She told the Athenians that χώρα εἴη Μολοττία αὐτῆς , “the Molossian land was hers” (Hyp. Eux. col. 25), inserting herself into an affair that was in one sense trivialthe redecoration of a templebut with larger implications: no one could interfere in Molossian affairs without her approval, even if, as the Athenians claimed, a god invited them.286 Hyperides suggests that the Athenians would at least entertain commands from Olympias, as from Alexander (Pro Eux. 19-20), thereby granting her a degree of authority in that city beyond that which Antipater may have enjoyed. Olympias and her daughter Cleopatra are the only individuals named in the list of states that received grain from Cyrene (SEG IX 2). Although Alexander was king and Antipater was στρατηγός, Olympias on this occasion appears to stand for Macedonia in the same way that “Perdiccas” and “Tharyps”, rulers of states, appear on earlier lists.287

Olympias complicated the relationship between Antipater and Alexander formally by securing an independent platform in Epirus from which to act authoritatively.288 But any attempt to take a share of Antipater’s locational authority would have fallen short of success if she did not command at least the potential for practical power such as Antipater enjoyed with his army.289 While Olympias clearly did not control, nor could have hoped to assemble, a military force comparable to Antipater’s, there is evidence that she was neither ignorant of military matters, nor reticent to engage in them if necessary. During the struggle among Alexander’s successors, in the years 317-316 bc, we find her ordering the Macedonian garrison at Athens to surrender to the Athenians (Diod. 18.64.1-6), taking command of the Macedonian army itself (19.11.2), winning the military support of the Aetolians against Antipater and Cassander (19.11.4-9), and finally fighting a battle against Cassander’s forces (19.35.3). It is particularly noteworthy that the general Polyperchon, Olympias’ principal ally, remained on the sidelines during these events.290 There is comparable evidence for other Macedonian womenPhila, Cynnane, Cratersipolis, Adeashowing both willingness to involve themselves in military matters and ability at military leadership (Polyaen. Strat. 8.60; Arr. FGrH F 9.23, 33; Diod. 18.39.2-4; Duris apud Athen. 13.560).291

While this evidence does not suggest that Olympias enjoyed a personal army at any time before the chaos of the 310s, we may conclude that she was well aware of the necessary underpinnings of authority and was not prepared to let the traditional limits of royal women describe her actions. Moreover, there is evidence that she did not completely ignore the relationship between coercive force and authority even during the relative stability of Alexander’s reign.292 When Curtius describes the “trial” of Philotas, who was accused of plotting against Alexander in 330 BC, he includes a speech supposedly made by Amyntas, also implicated in the plot. Amyntas claims innocence and attributes his plight to Olympias’ hostility, and he reminds Alexander of its origin (Curt. 7.1.37-40): Do you not remember that, when you sent me to convey soldiers back from Macedonia, you told me that many able-bodied young men were hidden in your mother’s house? Accordingly, you instructed me not to obey anyone but you, and to bring to you those avoiding conscription. And I did just that, carrying out your order with more diligence than was probably good for me. I brought Gorgias, Hecataeus, and Gorgatas from there, and you have gotten good service from them. What can be more unfair than if I should die because I obeyed you, when I would have been punished if I had not obeyed you? For there is no other reason for your mother to persecute us, except that we put your welfare above a woman’s favor. I brought 6,000 Macedonian infantry and 600 cavalry here, some of whom would not have followed me if I had been willing to indulge those reticent toward military service. Because she is angry at us for this reason, it therefore follows that you should be the one to placate your mother, because you brought her ire down on us. Quippe meministi, cum me ad perducendos ex Macedonia milites mitteres, dixisse te multos integros iuvenes in domo tuae matris abscondi. Praecepisti igitur mihi, ne quem praeter te intuerer, sed detrectantes militiam perducerem ad te. Quod equidem feci et liberius, quam expediebat mihi, executus sum tuum imperium. Gorgiam et Hecataeum et Gorgatan, quorum bona opera uteris, inde perduxi. Quid igitur iniquius est quam me, qui, si tibi non paruissem, iure daturus fui poenas, nunc perire, quia parui? Neque enim ulla alia matri tuae persequendi nos causa est, quam quod utilitatem tuam muliebri praeposuimus gratiae. VI milia Macedonum peditum et DC equites adduxi, quorum pars secutura me non erat, si militiam detrectantibus indulgere voluissem. Sequitur ergo, ut, quia illa propter hanc causam irascitur nobis, tu mitiges matrem, qui irae eius nos obtulisti. Evidently, a number of soldierssurely not the whole 6,600 Curtius mentions, but sufficient for Amyntas to have made the effort to secure their servicehad associated themselves with Olympias, and both they and she resented Amyntas’ efforts to recruit them for the Asian campaigns.293 Carney suggests that Olympias might have been hostile to Amyntas because he had connections to the family of Parmenio, but her anger is more readily explicable in terms of power and authority. The “able-bodied young men” Amyntas recruited from Olympias’ house should probably be seen as a bodyguard, if perhaps a larger one than Alexander thought necessary. Amyntas’ mission to recruit troops in Macedonia dates to 331 BC, the year when Antipater was preparing to face Agis, and Olympias was still at Pella (cf. Diod. 17.49.1; Curt. 4.6.30). As we have seen, this year was full of uncertainty for Antipater, and therefore full of potential for Olympias. Even a small force of Macedonian troops would have given Olympias an important and visible trapping of authority, the ability to employ coercive force.

Olympias enjoyed a potential for authority because she was Alexander’s mother, but she realized authority through her own efforts. Without the benefit of a title or formal office, she inserted herself in Greek affairs. Her actions and movements between 335 and 330 BC are sensible as a series of ad hoc exercises in authority. As a representative of the Macedonian state she received grain shipments from Cyrene; as a representative of Epirus she intervened in the renovation of Dione’s temple at Dodona; and she appears in Athenian oratory as a bearer of her son’s authority. She remained in Pella while it served her as a platform for political action. Before 330 Alexander was engaged in European affairs while still campaigning against Darius’ vast army, and Antipater had not yet clearly established himself as the guarantor of Macedonian power in Greece. Pella offered Olympias the best arena in which to share in her son’s authority and take advantage of any opportunities that the uncertain future might offerwere Antipater to be killed in battle, for example, Olympias would be the pre-eminent Macedonian in Europe and in a position (geographical and political) to take full advantage. In Pella, too, she seems to have assumed at least a token bodyguard, a symbolic potential for coercive force to bolster her authority. But with Antipater’s victory over Agis in 330 and Alexander’s march eastward, Olympias had to re-establish herself. Her son was no longer as visible from Greece, and her de facto rival Antipater had demonstrated his ability to exert power over the Greeks. So Olympias moved to Epirus, where she could enjoy greater autonomy and could continue to project authority as a Molossian and a leader of the Epirote state. She was to remain there until Alexander’s death in 323. Regarding her actions in the intervening years our sources are generally silent, except to mention her demand, in 324, that the Athenians surrender Harpalus.

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Note 212

E. Carney (1987a) 38.

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Note 213

Regarding the hostility and bias with which most ancient sources regard Olympias - for examples cf. Plut. Alex. 68.3, 39.7; Diod. 19.11.9; Justin 14.6.1; Arr. 7.12-13 - and the problem this poses for any treatment of her career, I will try to follow the course recommended by Carney in her definitive 1987 treatment of Olympias. She notes, following G.H. Macurdy (1932) 45, that “our sources react much more negatively to violence and murder engineered by Olympias than to similar acts committed by her husband or son. They tend to blame Olympias rather than Alexander for reprehensible actions which cannot plausibly be supposed to have been committed without, at the very least, her son’s acquiescence” (E. Carney [1987a] 36). Carney summarizes her approach to these sources thus: “…argument solely based on the supposed nature of her personality should be rejected. Assumptions about her personal motivation tend to obscure consideration of her policy. The largely anecdotal information about Olympias preserved in our literary sources for Alexander’s reign should always be distrusted, whereas information preserved by outside sources (inscriptions, speeches) should be treated as authoritative” (E. Carney [1987a] 38); this argument is further developed in E. Carney (1993).

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Note 214

I. Kaerst (1894) 2504. Likewise, H. Berve (1926) 286: “O. fühlte sich durchaus als Vertreterin Al.s, vor allem Antipatros gegenüber, und suchte sich, von unbezwingbarer Herrschsucht getrieben, auch in die Regierungsgeschäfte des eichsverwesers einzumischen.”

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Note 215

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 158.

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Note 216

This characterization of some scholars’ approaches to Olympias is not quite hyperbole. See H. Berve (1926) 287; H. Strasburger (1939) col. 287; P.R. Franke (1955) 42; J.R. Hamilton (1973) 190. All these scholars argue that Olympias quarreled with her daughter Cleopatra. E. Carney (1987a) 53 n.53, points out, however, that these arguments stand solely on the assumption that no one could be close to Olympias and not quarrel with her.

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Note 217

For Olympias’ names see Justin 9.7.13; Plut. De Pyth. Or. 401a; also H. Berve (1926) 283. K.J. Beloch (1923) 3.2, 68-70, gives the order and speculative dates for Philip’s wives: Audata of Illyria, 360; Phila of Elimeia, 359/8; Nicesipolis of Pherae and Philinna of Larissa, 358/7; Olympias of Epirus, 357 (Alexander born in 356); Meda of Thrace, ?340/339; Cleopatra of Macedon, 337. These dates are based on Athen. 13 557b-e = Satyrus Fr. 21 (ed. Kumaniecki, Krakow, 1929), for recent discussion of which see A. Tronson (1984). The fragment of Satyrus is notable not only for its information on the names and dates of Philip’s wives, but because it is the only ancient source that explicitly describes Philip conducting diplomacy through marriages.

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Note 218

Plut. Alex. 10.4: blames Olympias for killing Philip’s last bride, Cleopatra, and her child; also Justin 9.7.12; Paus. 8.7.7. Modern historians have reacted strongly to the image of Olympias participating in her husband’s murder. P. Green (1991) 107, says, “Her subsequent behavior, indeed, suggests that she not only planned her husband’s death but openly gloried in it”, and W. Heckel (1981) 57, calls the murder of Cleopatra and the child “unnecessary”, which supposes that we are in a better position to judge than Olympias was herself; see E. Carney (1987a) 48, for full discussion.

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Note 219

E. Carney (1987a) 55-56. For discussion of the sources’ bias, see E. Carney (1987a) 49 and n.43; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 89.

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Note 220

We do not even need a specific focus of disagreement, although several have been suggested. G.H. Macurdy (1932) 310, and H. Berve (1926) 285, for example, see Philip as the origin of the quarrel between Antipater, his general, and Olympias, who was often at odds with her husband. E. Carney (1987a) 55 n.55, cautions against seeing competition between Olympias and Antipater as a fight over a formal title.

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Note 221

So E. Carney (1995) 368-376; cf. E. Carney (1987a) 51. Carney argues that Olympias’ membership in the Argead clan was sufficient to legitimize her participation in Alexander’s rule, despite the absence of any discernible office or job-description for her.

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Note 222

G.N. Cross (1932) 42. The Epirote kingdom and the role Olympias and Cleopatra played there are discussed below.

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Note 223

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 156. For Hieronymus as the source see J. Hornblower (1981) 64-5 (for Justin), 39 (for Diodorus); also F. Schachermeyr (1970) 104-130; P.A. Stadter (1980) 148.

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Note 224

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 156.

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Note 225

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 158.

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Note 226

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 156 and n.6. See also G.N. Cross (1932) 16 and n.1, 18 and n.2; N.G.L. Hammond (1967) 501.

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Note 227

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 156 n.6.

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Note 228

M.N. Tod (1948) no. 150.

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Note 229

Hammond translates τέλος as ‘office’.

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Note 230

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 157. He quotes Justin 13.4.5: “Antipater is placed in charge of Macedonia and Greece; Craterus is given charge of the Royal Property” (“Macedoniae et Graeciae Antipater praeponitur, regiae pecuniae custodia Cratero traditur”).

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Note 231

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 158 n.7; SEG 1969 35.

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Note 232

E. Carney (1994) 363-364. See also H. Bengtson (1937) 75; E. Will (1966) 31.

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Note 233

N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 159: “The office of προστάτης became vacant with the departure and death of Craterus in Asia in 321 BC. We do not hear of any immediate replacement. Between 320 and 317 there was no need for a προστάτης because both kings were in Macedonia and Arrhidaeus was able to carry out state sacrifices, as he had done in the lifetime of Alexander.”

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Note 234

F.W. Walbank (1957) 533-534; N.G.L. Hammond (1985) 157; J. Hornblower (1981) 13.

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Note 235

See E. Carney (1994) 360-361 and n.6.

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Note 236

E. Carney (1994) 360.

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Note 237

E. Carney (1987a) 37. Her discussion is based on P. Stafford (1978).

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Note 238

P. Cabanes (1980) 333: “L’Épire, qui est actuellement la région la plus riche in documents épigraphicques intéressant cette communauté familiale des biens grâce aux inscriptions d’affranchissements conservées sur le mur du théâtre de Bouthrōtos, paraît aussi faire une place très particulière à la femme, très différente de celle qu’elle occupe dans la Grèce classique des cités. La femme peut, d’abord, prendre seule la décision d’affranchir son esclave, prouvant par là qu’elle dispose d’un véritable droit de propriété et donc de la possibilité d’aliéner celle ci. De plus, la femme figure aussi en tēte de l’énumération du groupe d’affranchisseurs dans un petit nombre de cas; cette place n’est pas fortuite mais signifie bien alors que la femme tient le rōle de chef de famille, qui a gérité des droits de son père ou du mari décédé.”

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Note 239

The advice is reported as having been given via letter, so we might approach it cautiously; on the other hand, as Athenaeus says, such matters were “right up her alley” (o(/sa te *)olumpia\s proqu/etai) (14 659F); cf. Plut. Alex. 2.2, 2.7-9; E.A. Fredricksmeyr (1966) 180.

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Note 240

See H. Berve (1926) 287; N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 474; E. Carney (1987a) 51-52. These dedications have been dated to 331-330; see B. Keil (1902) 511-525.

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Note 241

E. Carney (1988) 396 and n.30; see also R. Lane-Fox (1973) 91, 413, 513.

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Note 242

M.N. Tod (1948) 274; B.M. Kingsley (1986) 169.

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Note 243

B.M. Kingsley (1986) 169-170.

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Note 244

See H. Berve (1926) 19-20, 186 and 273 (for Cleopatra’s and Alexander of Epirus’ children); E. Carney (1988) 395 and n.6.

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Note 245

N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 474 n.52.

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Note 246

She almost certainly acted in an official capacity during her husband’s absence; the Athenian merchant Leocrates bought a large shipment of grain from “Cleopatra in Epirus” (e)k th=s *)hpei/rou para\ *kleopa/tras) (Lyc. In Leocr. 26). For discussion of the date of this event, see below, p. 93.

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Note 247

SEG 23.189 in P. Charneux (1966); further discussion and bibliography at N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 472 n.46; E. Carney (1987a) 50-51; E. Carney (1988) 395-396 and n.28.

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Note 248

IG IV2 95; see P. Cabanes (1976) 116-117; N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 473-474.

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Note 249

B.M. Kingsley (1986) 170. N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 474, agrees with this picture, but suggests a date later than Kingsley’s.

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Note 250

D. Mendels (1984) 138-139.

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Note 251

The levies of troops Alexander took from Macedonia for the Asian war had a similar effect, though not by design.

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Note 252

For Olympias having no title, cf. Syll. 3 252N, 5 with N.3; also E. Carney (1987a) 39 n.8. The epigram on her tomb at Pydna refers to her only as “daughter of Neoptolemus” ([*kou/ran *neop]tole/moio); for the restoration, see A.N. Oikonomides (1982) 13.

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Note 253

Cf. N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 474, who argues that Olympias meant only that she was a native Molossian, and therefore could veto the Athenian efforts; E. Carney (1987a) 52 n.49, says “This reading is unconvincing since Olympias is telling the Athenians to keep their hands off the temple rather than telling them to go sacrifice at their own shrines.” Hammond, on the other hand, would see Hyperides’ association of Olympias and the Macedonians as evidence that she was still in Pella, while Carney points out that this need not be so.

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Note 254

G. Colin (1946) 164 (on the date of the trial of Euxenippus): “Quant à la date de l’affair, elle se place sùrement entre 330 et 324: avant 324, parce que cette année est celle de la mort de Lycurgue; après 330, parce qu’Olympias, dans ses plaintes au sujet de la restauration de la statue de Dioné à dodone, arguë (§25) de ce qu’elle est souveraine du pays; or, elle ne l’a été qu’à la mort d’Alexandre le Molosse (assassiné en Lucancie vers 330), en usurpant d’ailleurs son royaume, qui aurait dû revenir à sa fille Cléopátre, veuve du dit Alexandre.”

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Note 255

Much later, in the period of internecine strife that followed Alexander’s death, the Athenians would prefer Olympias to Antipater’s son Cassander (Diod. 18.64.6-65.2). Diodorus says that they had “held Olympias in high regard for a long time” (oi( de\ *)aqhnai=oi pepoluwrhko/tes e)n toi=s e)/mprosqen xro/nois th\n *)olumpia/da) (18.65.2); cf. E. Carney (1994) 374-375.

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Note 256

E. Carney (1987a) 52 n.49, states this clearly: “Mother and son worked in concert, granted the absence of the son in the east, but without any well-defined formal arrangement. Similarly, that Hyperides imagines someone flattering both Olympias and the Macedonians tells us that he associates the two, but does not tell us the basis of the association.”

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Note 257

Those holding this view include: K.J. Beloch (1923) 3.2, 146; H. Berve (1926) 286-287; G.N. Cross (1932) 43; H. Strasburger (1939) col. 180; P.R. Franke (1955) 41-46; P. Charneux (1966) 179. Cf. E. Carney (1987a) 50 n.44, 52.

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Note 258

N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 474: “It was in the year 324 BC that the friction between Antipater and Olympias reached a critical point. We may assume that Alexander took the decision that Olympias was to withdraw from Macedonia to Epirus (Diod. 18.49.4 and Paus. 1.11.3), and that Cleopatra, the sister of Alexander, should take over the προστασία in Macedonia.” Plutarch’s account, Hammond says, represents a “garbled” version of Diod. 18.49.4 and Paus. 1.11.3. and Diod. 17.108.7 - stating that both Antipater and Olympias demanded Harpalus’ extradition - which he takes as evidence that both prominent Macedonians were working together from Pella in early 324. This is not convincing, as I hope my subsequent discussion will show; see also my treatment of the Harpalus Affair in chapters II and VI, and E. Carney (1987a) 50, which addresses Hammond’s argument directly.

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Note 259

G.N. Cross (1932) 42-43, and P. Cabanes (1976) 173, cite this passage as evidence that Olympias moved in 325.

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Note 260

H.W. Smyth (1965) §1943 (p. 483).

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Note 261

See above, page 86 and n.245.

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Note 262

The traditional date for the grain-inscription is 330-326 bc, with both Olympias and Cleopatra receiving grain in Epirus; for bibliography supporting this view see M.N. Tod (1948) 273-276 and E. Carney (1988) 336 n.29. My argument follows B.M. Kingsley (1986), which Carney also accepts.

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Note 263

G. Oliverio (1933) 33-35.

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Note 264

B.M. Kingsley (1986) 170-171; P. Green (1991) 274.

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Note 265

P. Marchetti (1976) 53; B.M. Kingsley (1986) 171.

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Note 266

Dem. 17.22; see Cawkwell (1961) 77-78.

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Note 267

W.L. Westerman (1929-1930) 16-19.

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Note 268

B.M. Kingsley (1986) 171.

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Note 269

The syntax and meaning of this sentence are obscure.

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Note 270

G. Oliverio (1933) 33-35, 87.

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Note 271

B.M. Kingsley (1986) 169 n.30. She establishes Leocrates’ date of return thus: He left Athens immediately after the battle of Chaeronea (338 BC), and Lycurgus says he was absent from Athens “six continuous years” (Lyc. In Leocr. 21, 56, 145).

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Note 272

B.M. Kingsley (1986) 170-171, 174 and n.73.

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Note 273

See E. Badian (1967) 190-192.

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Note 274

H. Berve (1926) 28; G.H. Macurdy (1932) 33; H. Strasburger (1939) col. 179; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 105; P. Green (1991) 458. Regarding Plutarch’s account, note E. Carney (1987a) 53 n.52: “Even if the passage merits belief, it does not assume some sort of public humiliation which would drive Olympias to leave.” Of course, even private censure would rankle, but it is better not to rely too heavily on Plutarch’s censorious comments on Olympias.

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Note 275

This approach is taken by G.N. Cross (1932) 48; E. Carney (1987a) 53; E. Carney (1988) 395. Opinions supposedly expressed in letters between Alexander and Antipater or Alexander and Olympias are very suspect. Cf. E. Carney (1987a) 49: “At best, each letter must be considered on its individual merits: granted the hostile tradition about Olympias, rejecting all ‘epistolary’ information about her is not unreasonable.”

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Note 276

H. Berve (1926) 273.

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Note 277

N.G.L. Hammond (1980a) 16; E. Carney (1987a) 56 and n.56.

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Note 278

J.R. Fears (1975) 128; G.N. Cross (1932) 42.

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Note 279

For arguments in support of this war beginning in early 331, see E. Badian (1967) 190-192; E.N. Borza (1971) 230-235; R.A. Lock (1972) 10-27; E. Badian (1994) 268-271; these contra G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 163-180, and A.B. Bosworth (1975) 30-31, but see E. Badian (1994) 268-271.

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Note 280

Regarding the end of the war, see E. Badian (1967) 189-191; E.N. Borza (1971) 230-235; A.S. Sofman (1973) 117-136; A.B. Bosworth (1975); 36-37 E.I. McQueen (1978) 43; E. Badian (1994) 272-277.

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Note 281

For Alexander’s confidence that the Greeks would cause no further troubles, see Arr. 3.19.5; Diod. 17.74.3; Curt. 6.2.17; Plut. Alex. 34.2; D. Kanatsulis (1958/59) 62; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 212 ad Plut. Alex. 42.5. Cf. F. Schachermeyr (1949) 238; E. Badian (1967) 190; U. Wilcken (1967) 147; G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 180.

For Antipater’s measures to insure that the Greeks would cause no further trouble, see Curt. 7.10.11-12; Dem. 17.4, 7, 10, 16; Diod. 18.8.1; Plut. Alex. 74.2; Justin 12.14.4; A.B. Bosworth (1986) 7; R. Sealey (1993) 207; E. Badian (1961) 28 and n.87.

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Note 282

Cf. N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 77.

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Note 283

This argument given at N.G.L. Hammond (1967) 558, and N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 471-472. Both fragments refer immediately to the time Antipater and Craterus jointly held Europe, for which see Curt. 10.7.9 and Justin 13.2.13-14.

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Note 284

The earliest mention of the league in a surviving source is at Diod. 19.36.3, which notes its existence c. 317 BC. P.R. Franke (1955) 36-37, cites a fragment/testimonium of Aristotle (Fr. 494 apud St. Byz. s. *)amu/ntai), mentioning h( tw=n *)hpeirwtw=n politei/a, a work, Franke says, Aristotle probably wrote before 326/5. S. Carapanos (1878) 1.39.1, describes an inscription mentioning *molossoi\ kai\ su/mmaxoi, which he dates to the 330s bc. P. Cabanes (1976) 177-181, argues based on this evidence that the alliance came about during Alexander of Epirus’ reign. Hammond’s argument that it came about much later derives from his late dating of Olympias’ removal to Epirus.

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Note 285

G.N. Cross (1932) 42-43.

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Note 286

See E. Carney (1987a) 52 n.49, contra N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 474 n.52. Based on this episode, H. Berve (1926) 287, sees Olympias as Herrin von Epeiros.

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Note 287

Cf. IG IV2 95; P. Cabanes (1976) 166; N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 473.

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Note 288

I leave aside Plutarch’s reports of Olympias slandering Antipater in letters to her son, although other scholars have given them a greater importance (see above, page 79).

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Note 289

E. Badian (1961) 37, notes that Antipater’s army was, at least by 324 BC, potentially more loyal to their Macedonian general than to the orientalizing king. This ambivalence toward Alexander would have threatened his mother even more. After Alexander’s death the army chose Antipater over all of Alexander’s blood-relations; see Diod. 18.39.3-4, 18.48.4; E. Carney (1987b) 497-499 and n.11.

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Note 290

E. Carney (1994) 371-372.

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Note 291

E. Carney (1995) 389.

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Note 292

cf. E. Carney (1987a) 61; E. Carney (1995) 386, 389.

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Note 293

E. Carney (1987a) 54.

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(Section 7 of 9)

·  Preliminaries to Crisis ·

This chapter will discuss events from 330 until early 324, the most immediate background to the Harpalus Affair. The analysis will be divided into two sections. The first will be a final exposition of events that weakened the structural integrity of the Macedonian hegemony in Greece, thus undermining the authority of both individual Macedonians and “Macedonia” as an entity in which individuals participated. The second part will describe how events in 325 and early 324 demonstrate the extent to which Alexander’s domain had coherence only by virtue of his presence and constant intervention. While Alexander had been absent, things had fallen apart, and his efforts at restoring them actually exacerbated the problems faced by the Macedonian presence in Greece. By the beginning of summer, 324, Macedonia was in no position to face a challenge to its authority of the sort that the Harpalus Affair would pose.

We should first summarize the dynamics of power and authority among Macedonia, its principals, and the Greeks from 335 to 330. Alexander had formalized a Macedonian hegemony by means of an act of terror, the razing of Thebes, and an institution, the Common Peace. The Common Peace would prove to be a valid organization with effective mechanisms for resolving disputes. It would also be an active presence in the political discourse of Greece under Alexander, although not necessarily to the advantage of Macedonian authority. When Alexander crossed the Hellespont, Antipater remained behind. His position in Pella as an authorized representative of the absent king had precedent in Macedonian history, but his position in Greece, as a general of forces in the service of an absent “ ἡγεμών of the Greeks of the Common Peace” was unprecedented. Antipater had de facto responsibilities for securing Macedonia’s European hegemony, but with little ex officio authority that we can see. Whatever authority he was to have, he would have to assume through his actions. The first test came when Agis collected an army and went to war in the Peloponnese. In this case, the Common Peace seems not to have significantly served Antipater’s advantage. Each Peloponnesian state that failed to join Agis had reasons apart from “loyalty” to Macedonia. The debate among the Athenians, who eventually refrained from supporting the revolt, also seems to have depended more on a calculus of advantage than on any formal obligations imposed by the Peace; in fact, the Common Peace most clearly enters Athenian discourse on the side of those who would have joined Agis and gone to war with Antipater. These anti-Macedonians were also emboldened by a perception that Alexander’s success against Darius was in doubt.

Antipater was slow in facing Agis, perhaps because of the demands that Alexander’s Asian wars placed on Macedonian military power. Despite this, we have no evidence that he invoked the clause of the Common Peace that mandated “mutual assistance against violators” in an effort to secure Athens’ cooperation, which would have lent him a decisive advantage. In doing so, he acted more like a Macedonian general than an authorized representative of a hegemony. And when he finally assembled an army and defeated Agis, he again refrained from assuming any authority in Greece, but instead deferred to Alexander. This was no doubt a proper thing for Alexander’s στρατηγός to do, but it illustrates how Antipater was Alexander’s arm in Greece, but not his voice. There is also evidence to suggest that Alexander was concerned about Antipater’s successful exercise of power, and the implications it might have for Alexander’s own authority over his general. The king also undermined Antipater’s authority by issuing a decree of “freedom for the Greeks” that stood in vivid contrast to the stern measures Antipater was taking to consolidate Macedonian control over Greece. The decree created a public divide between king and general, and must have shown the Greeks that Macedonia was not monolithic and that Antipater’s word was not necessarily final.

Olympias was more successful at assuming authority. She remained in Pella during the first years of her son’s absence, and while Antipater sent his army south, she sent grain. In other ways, too, she acted and was treated like a head of state. As long as Pella was an advantageous platform from which to project authority, Olympias remained there. She may even have surrounded herself with a military bodyguard, which, while not representing any significant potential for coercive force, would have been an important token of authority. She moved from Pella to a more independent situation in Epirus in 330, when Alexander was preparing to move farther away, and Antipater had firmly established his power in Greece. From there she continued to participate in Greek affairs, and we find evidence that the Athenians, at least, were accustomed to receiving embassies from her, and conferring on her a certain authority as a Macedonian, an Epirote, and a representative of Alexander. Olympias’ success at defining a position through her actions created another divide in the Macedonian hegemony.

From 330, events show that “Macedonia” ceased to be a participant in Greek affairs in any meaningful sense. Hegemony yielded to uneasy dominance. Alexander, the final location of authority, was far away. Antipater, who had never relied on authority as much as on naked coercion to secure his needs, continued to protect his power, but increasingly without reference to Alexander or any structure beyond his own court and his own army. Olympias was not even in Macedonia, and as Alexander’s absence grew more and more prolonged, she seems to have participated less in Greek affairs. Macedonia retained its power, but its authority existed only in the absence of any meaningful challenge. We will first turn to examine Olympias and Antipater during the quietly tense years 330-325, before discussing how Alexander’s return from India and the Gedrosian desert in 325 set the stage for a crisis of hegemony.

· Olympias: 330 to 324 ·

Olympias’ actions after 330 are not well documented. This is not entirely surprising. In 330, when news of the battle at Megalopolis reached Alexander at Ecbatana, he dismissed his Greek soldiers, declared that the Greeks were free to live under their own laws, and turned all his energies eastward (Plut. Alex. 34.2; Arr. 3.19.5; Diod. 17.74.3; Curt. 6.2.17).294 His mother had moved to Epirus, as Berve says, “ihre Selbständigkeit gegenüber Antipatros zu betonen”, and with Alexander increasingly removed from Greek affairs, Olympias’ ability to act outside of Epirus must have diminished. Nevertheless, her relationship to Alexander could not change, and so what authority she derived from him was durable. She is reported to have maintained a correspondence with her son, often complaining about or levying accusations against Antipater. Diodorus mentions “her slanders against him” (τὰς kat*) αὐτοῦ διαβολάς ) (Diod. 17.118.1; 17.114.3). Plutarch mentions letters between Olympias and Alexander at many places (Plut. Alex. 39.7-14; Mor. 180d [Imp. Apoth.]; 333a [de virt. Alex.]). Arrian reports a rumor (λόγος ) that Olympias influenced Alexander against Antipater with “slanders” (τῆς μητρὸς τῶν διαβολοων τῶν ἐς Ἀντίπατρον ) (Arr. 7.12.5-6).295 We should, of course, approach this second-hand epistolary evidence with extreme caution, but we can probably accept that Olympias kept in contact with her son, and that she worked through her letters to improve, or at least maintain, her own position.296

As evidence for the persistence of Olympias’ associative authority we might note two speeches by Hyperides, one in defense of Euxenippus, dating to 330 bc, and one prosecuting Demosthenes, dating to 323. In 330 the Athenian Euxenippus was accused by Polyeuctus of being a pro-Macedonian stooge, one specific manifestation of which is the defendant’s alleged flattery of Olympias (Hyp. Pro Eux. col. 21). Years later, in the wake of the Harpalus Affair, Hyperides would attack Demosthenes by recalling how Callias of Chalcidice, an associate of Demosthenes, had dealings with Olympias (Hyp. in Dem. col. 20; cf. Din. in Dem. 44). The specifics of the events Hyperides is discussing are unclear due to the state of the two texts, but for our purposes it is sufficient to note that Olympias could be portrayed, in 330 and 323, as a representative of the Macedonian hegemony.

· Antipater and the Greeks: 330 to 325 ·

In 330 Alexander proclaimed to the Greeks that “the tyrannies were ended and that they might live according to their own laws” (τὰς τυραννίδας πάσας καταλυθῆναι καὶ πολιτεύειν αὐτονόμους ) (Plut. Alex. 34.2), but Antipater did not abolish tyrannies and leave the Greeks to govern themselves. As W.L.T. Adams states, “The final battle with Agis had been too costly to allow for a second one, or to grant the initiative to any other dissident force.” 297 Nor could he count on the unreliable treaty of Common Peace to insure support from the Greeks; the oaths of mutual assistance had not brought Athens to the side of Macedonia in 331, and the oaths of non-interference were too easily invoked against Macedonian authority. With Alexander already far in the east of Asia Minor and moving farther, Antipater was no longer supporting the king from the west but was securing his own position in Greece toward an indefinite future.298 His efforts are not well-documented, since the ancient sources tend to follow Alexander’s lead in forsaking Greece during this period. We can, however, uncover a mixture of heavy-handed measures and some more subtle diplomatic maneuvering.

For Antipater’s less-subtle steps toward control in Greece we have both direct and indirect evidence. Antipater maintained military garrisons at Megalopolis, Pellene, Corinth, and the Cadmea, near the ruins of Thebes (a reminder, if not a threat, to Athens) (Diod. 18.70-71).299 Based on the “rescript” of 318 BC, by which Polyperchon established his authority in Greece, we know that Antipater drove into exile his opponents in various cities and set his supporters in positions of power (Diod. 18.56.1-3, 18.56.7).300 He instituted tyrannies at Sicyon, Pellene, Messenia (Dem. 17.4, 7, 10, 16); there was also a garrison at Rhodes, which may or may not have been in Antipater’s purview (Diod. 18.8.1). In addition to these, there is more general evidence of widespread dissatisfaction among the Greeks with Antipater’s rule. When Alexander returned to Ecbatana in 324, a series of embassies made their way to him from Greece in order to complain about Antipater (Plut. Alex. 74.2; Justin 12.14.4).301 The measures that elicited complaint served Alexander’s advantage, but the king had already established that Antipater’s authority was not to be considered an extension of his own. This precedent suggested an “Antipatran hegemony” distinct from a Macedonian one, and allowed the Greeks to play the king against the στρατηγός.302 In the period after 330, then, we should consider to what extent events in Greece continued to describe a hegemonic structure that included both Antipater and Alexander as authorizing principals.

While we hear of no actions taken by the συνέδριον of the Common Peace after 330 BC, it may have survived at least nominally.303 It had proven its usefulness in managing disputes between Greek states, and more importantly as a discursive presence in Greek affairs. We can also see its potential in 330 as a forum in which the states could discuss how best to reach a modus vivendi in the immediate future following Antipater’s victory at Megalopolis. In his speech against Ctesiphon the orator Aeschines reminds the jury that the council of the Common Peace would meet soon (in Ctes. 254): And be mindful of the critical time at which you are casting your vote: In a few days the Pythian games will be held, and the συνέδριον of the Greeks will assemble. The city has already been subject to slander because of Demosthenes’ policies in the current crisis; if you crown him, you will seem to be in agreement with those who violate the Common Peace, but if you should do the opposite, you will release our people from these charges. καὶ τὸν καιρὸν μέμνησθε ἐν τὴν ψῆφον φέρετε. Ἡμερῶν μὲν ὀλίγων μέλλει τὰ Πύθια γίγνεσθαι καὶ τὸ συνέδριον τὸ τῶν Ἑλλήνων συλλέγεσθαι· διαβέβληται d*) πόλις ἐκ τῶν Δημοσθένους πολιτευμάτων περὶ τοὺς νυνὶ καιρούς· δόξετε d*) ἐὰν μὲν τοῦτον στεφανώσητε, ὁμογνώμονες εἶναι τοῖς παραβαίνουσι τὴν κοινὴν εἰρήνην, ἐὰν δὲ τοὐναντίον τούτου πράξητε, ἀπολύσετε τὸν δῆμον τῶν αἰτιῶν.

Aeschines is attacking Demosthenes for his anti-Macedonian stance, at a time when Antipater’s victory over Agis has made Macedonia seem stronger than ever. The nature of this “ συνέδριον of the Greeks” is not specified in the text, and A.W. Pickard-Cambridge has suggested that it is the Delphic Amphictyony, presumably based on its coincidence with the Pythian Games.304 However, there are two reasons to suppose this is the συνέδριον of the Common Peace. First, Aeschines refers to the Amphictyony by name thirteen times in this speech alone, so we have no reason to suspect periphrasis here.305 Second, he is talking about criticism of those who “violate the Common Peace”; this could, of course, be a topic of discussion at any general meeting of Greeks, but the close conjunction of τὸ συνέδριον τὸ τῶν Ἑλλήνων with τὴν κοινὴν εἰρήνην suggests that Aeschines is referring to the so-called Council of Corinth. This passage does not suggest that anything bad will happen to Athens because of this meetingor indeed, that anything will happen at all. But it does suggest that this συνέδριον retained some status as a occasion from which authoritative opinions, if not dictates, emerged. Aeschines’ comments on the “slanders” against Athens should be taken in the context of the measures Antipater took after the war with Agis. The garrisons and tyrannies were a reaction to perceived threats to Macedonian power, and a continuing anti-Macedonian rhetoric at Athens may have seemed, to other Greek states, to exacerbate their own sufferings. Thus, Aeschines says, public support for Demosthenes’ anti-Macedonian stances would not be well received by states who feared or were already experiencing the weight of Antipater’s hand.

Aeschines lost his case against Ctesiphon, and the Athenians vindicated Demosthenes. Opposition to Macedonia may have been forestalled by Antipater’s measures in 330, but the Athenians had by no means unanimously resigned themselves to domination by Macedonia. Rather, the debate continued while Athens’ position as the strongest potential opponent to Macedonian hegemony increased. With Agis’ defeat, Athens was the only survivor among the major powers that dominated the fourth century before Philip’s floruit. Sparta was defeated and Thebes had long since been razed.306 Despite strongly expressed opinions to the contrary, the Athenians had come to the aid of neither, but had acquiesced (or bided time) for fear of Macedonia.307 But at the same time, Athenian military potential was on the increase, thanks to Lycurgus’ management. In 325, for example, there were approximately 400 warships docked at Munychia.308 In addition to this fleet was a citizen army revitalized by Lycurgus’ reforms of the ephebate (Ath. Pol. 42).309 Consequently, there were in Athens prominent figures with diverse attitudes toward Macedonia, men who had invested their reputations in support for, tolerance of, or opposition to Macedonia. W.W. Tarn set forth the standard description of these “parties”: there were those who sought war with Macedonia, notably Hyperides; those like Demosthenes and Lycurgus, who advocated cautious delay in the hope that Athens would gain some advantage; there were the those, notably Phocion, who were resigned to Macedonian power; and those who actively served Macedonian interests, such as Demades.310

Antipater seems to have enjoyed relationships with Phocion, Demades, and Pytheas. Plutarch reports Antipater as having said “that he had two friends at Athens, Phocion and Demades: the one he had never persuaded to take a bribe; the other he bribed and never satisfied” (ὡς δυοῖν αὐτῷ φίλων Ἀθήνησιν ὄντων Φωκίωνος καὶ Δημάδου, τὸν μὲν λαβεῖν οὐ πέπεικε, τὸν δὲ διδοὺς οὐκ ἐμπέπληκε ) (Plut. Phoc. 30; cf. Phot. Bibl. 395b).311 Pytheas is particularly interesting, since he seems to have taken anti-Macedonian stances while enjoying some contact with Antipater. He spoke out against giving naval support to Alexander in 334 (Plut. Phoc. 21), and in 324 opposed giving divine honors to Alexander (Plut. Mor. 804b [Praec. Rei Publ. Ger.]), yet immediately after Alexander’s death he entered Antipater’s service (Plut. Dem. 27; Dem. Ep. 3.28; Suid. s. v. Πυθέας).312 W. Will has commented on the problem with Pytheas’ being at once an opponent of Macedonia and a friend of Antipater.313 Pytheas’ politics need not be seen as an inconsistency; we might compare Pytheas’ politics to the division between Alexander and Antipater that the king himself had made clear in 330. Alexander had made it known that Antipater’s authority was something other than an extension of his own. In consequence, we should not be surprised to see an Athenian treating differently with Antipater than with the larger Macedonian entity.

Antipater’s actions after 330 also suggest a separation between himself and Alexander’s dominion, that he acted in the interests of his own position and not necessarily as a servant of Alexander’s will. In the autumn of 325, the “Macedones” (not “Alexander”) presented a lavish gift of 5 talents to the Delphic Amphictyony.314 We know nothing of the details, but the appellation and the date suggest that this beneficence may have come from Pella and Antipater; it cannot have hurt his relations with the member-states of the Amphictyony, and we might recall that Philip used that body effectively to insert himself into Greek affairs as a guiding figure.315 More important, though, is evidence that shows him to have acted in his own interests when doing so contradicted Alexander’s stated intentions.

Plutarch describes one such instance, in the wake of Parmenio’s death (Alex. 49. 14-15): These things that had happened made Alexander a figure of fear to many of his friends, and particularly to Antipater. And he sent word in secret to the Aetolians, and exchanged guarantees with them. The Aetolians feared Alexander because of their seizure of Oeniadae, for when Alexander had heard about it, he said that the children of the Oeniadae would not take revenge on the Aetolians, he himself would. Ταῦτα πραχθέντα πολλοῖς τῶν φίλων φοβερὸν ἐποίησε τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον, μάλιστα d*) Ἀντιπάτρῳ, καὶ πρὸς Αἰτωλοὺς ἔπεμψε κρύφα, πίστεις διδοὺς καὶ λαμβάνων. ἐφοβοῦντο γὰρ Ἀλέξανδρον Αἰτωλοὶ διὰ τὴν Οἰνιαδῶν ἀνάστασιν, ἣν πυθόμενος οὐκ Οἰνιαδῶν ἔφη παῖδας, a)ll*) αὑτὸν ἐπιθήσειν δίκην Αἰτωλοῖς.

The Aetolians had captured Oeniadae and banished its inhabitants at some time in 330 BC (Diod. 18.8.6; Plut. Alex. 49.8).316 Aetolia’s transgression of the Common Peace was similar to Sparta’s, and Alexander had not approved. He issued his threat, which is also reported by Diodorus (18.8.6). But while Antipater moved in force to put down Agis’ rebellion, he did not move against the Aetolians.317 Alexander’s threat was never, in fact, carried out; instead, Plutarch tells us that Antipater and the Aetolians “exchanged guarantees” because of a shared fear of Alexander, almost certainly without Alexander’s approbation, and perhaps without his knowledge.318 Mendels argues that these events indicates a nascent “pro-Antipater” bloc in Greece, opposed to the “pro-Alexander” bloc represented by Olympias and Cleopatra.319. His interpretation has the agreements between Antipater and Aetolia raising the possibility of some sort of coup d’ētat against Alexander’s authority. This is too much to accept, if only because it is hard to imagine what such a coup would look likewith Alexander and his army 5,000 miles to the east, Antipater could hardly elevate his position, short of declaring himself “king”.

But Mendels does point in a useful direction. Antipater was in a difficult position, left in Greece with vague responsibilities, limited resources, and no expectation of help from any quarter. Alexander had undermined Antipater’s authority in the eyes of the Greeks, and had then turned away from Europe. The king had also put to death some of Antipater’s colleagues and relatives. On that occasion, the general is said to have asked, “If Parmenio plotted against Alexander, who can be trusted? And if he did not, what is to be done?” (εἰ μὲν ἐπεβούλευσεν εἶπε Παρμενίων Ἀλεξάνδρῳ, τίνι πιστευτέον; εἰ δὲ μή, τί πρακτέον; ) (Plut. Mor. 183f [Reg. et Imp. Apoth.]). The negotiations with Aetolia show how Antipater answered his question: in this case, by ignoring Alexander’s grandiose and impassioned response to Aetolian adventurism, and approaching the security of Macedonian power in Greece on his own terms and as realistically as possiblethese terms did not include a war in the mountains of western Greece.320

The Aetolians were powerful, a potential threat to Macedonia’s nominal hegemony if threatened, but also a potentially useful tool.321 Antipater could offer “guarantees” (πίστεις ) that he would not interfere with Aetolian possession of Oeniadae. If Antipater did not carry out Alexander’s threat, after all, no one would. And without supposing any plots against Alexander, we can describe two ways in which Antipater would profit from an accord with the Aetolians. Aetolia could offer, first, a strong friendly presence in the west and around the Corinthian Gulf, and second, a relationship that recognized Macedonian power in Greece without costing Macedonia any military effort.322

The πίστεις were exchanged “secretly” (κρύφα ) because, despite the benefits of such an arrangement, they flew in the face of Alexander’s unequivocal condemnation of Aetolia. We might also recall here another occasion on which the king rejected a seemingly sensible, practical, and profitable proposal that fell short of his grander designs. Shortly before the battle of Gaugamela, Darius offered to yield all his territory west of the Euphrates, make a treaty of alliance, and pay Alexander 30,000 talents, and give his eldest daughter in marriage. Alexander solicited his lieutenants’ advice (Diod. 17. 54.4-5):323

None of the others dared to offer advice because of the magnitude of the matter, but Parmenio spoke up: ‘I would take the offer and make a treaty, if I were Alexander.’ But Alexander said, ‘And I would take it too, if I were Parmenio.’ τῶν μὲν οὖν ἄλλων οὐδεὶς ἐτόλμα συμβουλεῦσαι διὰ τὸ μέγεθος τῆς ὑποκειμένης ζητήσεως, Παρμενίων δὲ πρῶτος εἶπεν, Ἐγὼ μὲν ὢν Ἀλέξανδρος ἔλαβον ἂν τὰ διδόμενα καὶ τὴν σύνθεσιν ἐποιησάμην. d*) Ἀλέξανδρος ὑπολαβὼν εἶπεν, Κἀγὼ εἰ Παρμενίων ἦν ἔλαβον ἄν.

By the end of 330 the careful Parmenio was dead, and Antipater seems to have learned even greater caution. Although an agreement with Aetolia would serve hegemony, it did so according to a design not Alexander’s, and Antipater had good reason to keep secret his workmanlike arrangement.

We have now seen the scant evidence for interactions among the Greeks and the Macedonians in Greece between 330 and 325 BC. The very paucity of events suggests several things. First, Antipater seems to have been successful at insuring no repetition of Agis III’s challenge to his power. Second, within this enforced order neither he nor Olympias seems to have found occasion to exercise authority in Greek affairs, at least in any way that merited note in our sources. These two prominent Macedonians had defined their positions and maintained them during Alexander’s absence. Olympias was in Epirus, where she had autonomy from Antipater, but beyond which she enjoyed a lessened authority while her son was absent from Greek affairs. Antipater did act in Greece and interact with the Greeks, but did so in his own name and often in apparent contradiction to his ostensible function as Alexander’s agent in Europe. Increasingly, then, we find evidence that there was no “Macedonia” in Europe, in the sense of a structural unity with a common agenda and having Alexander as its organizing principle. Instead, we have Macedonians pursuing individual and sometimes incompatible ends. A similar state of affairs came about not only in Greece but throughout Alexander’s domain during the five years of his Indian campaign. In the second half of this chapter we will examine what Alexander found upon his return to the west in 325, what it tells us about Macedonian authority, and how the king’s efforts to restore a coherent order in Asia prepared the way for a crisis in Europe.

· Alexander’s Return ·

Alexander returned from his campaigns in Bactria and India in 325 bc. He found his empire in a critical state after his absence, a state that was, however, not without precedent. Certain incidents during Alexander’s career suggest a pattern: from time to time rumors of his death would arise; these would be followed by more or less localized uprisings against Macedonian power; and these uprisings would die a quick (and sometimes violent) death when the king was revealed to live. It happened in 336 when Alexander was fighting in Illyria. The Thebans had heard rumors that he had been killed fighting in the north, and based on this mistaken notion they expelled their Macedonian garrison. Alexander reappeared, marched swiftly southward, and razed the city (Arr. 1.7.6). It happened again in 325, when Alexander was gravely wounded fighting the Malli. Diodorus tells us that some of the Greek mercenaries whom he had settled in Bactria and Sogdiana were unhappy living in so foreign a place (τὸν ἐν τοῖς βαρβάροις κατοικισμὸν χαλεπῶς ἔφερον ), and upon hearing that Alexander had died revolted from the Macedonians (ἀπέστησαν ἀπὸ τῶν Μακεδόνων ) under the leadership of Athenodorus (17.99.5-6).324 These anecdotes reveal the extent to which Macedonian power depended finally on Alexander himself, rather than on an institutional structure or even on the capabilities and resources of his lieutenants and representatives. Plutarch seems to make this connection when he moves from a discussion of Alexander’s injury in 325 directly to a description of the problems that beset the empire generally (Alex. 68.2-3): local officials governing rapaciously, others actively in revolt, Olympias and Cleopatra plotting against Antipater, “and upheaval and revolution generally ran everywhere” (καὶ ὅλως διέδραμε σάλος ἁπάντων καὶ νεωτερισμός ).325

His prolonged absence from Greece and then from western Asia Minor had an effect similar to the occasional rumors of his death, but on a much bigger scale. When he marched east he left behind satraps, governors, and generals to manage as they saw fit. As with Olympias and Antipater, these people were free to interpret their own needs and to establish the limits of their own authority and power as best they could. Many seem to have taken advantage of their positions for private gain and to have acted in ways contrary to the interests of a Macedonian empire. Many also seem to have had little confidence in Alexander’s ever returning. Harpalus was one such person.326 Another was Cleomenes, whose example is worth describing. Alexander had placed him in charge of the fiscal administration of Egypt, and instructed him to oversee the ongoing building at Alexandria (Arr. 3.5.4, 7.23.7; [Arist.] Oec. 1352a 29). Cleomenes took advantage of his control over Egyptian grain to make huge profits during the shortages of the early 320s ([Arist.] Oec. 1352a 17-23). Arrian records a letter that Alexander wrote to Cleomenes, whom the historian calls “a bad man who had committed many crimes in Egypt” (Κλεομένει, ἀνδρὶ κακῷ καὶ πολλὰ ἀδικήματα ἀδικήσαντι ἐν Αἰγύπτω ) (Arr. 7.23.7-8). In this letter, written in 324, Alexander both acknowledges Cleomenes’ misdeeds and offers to overlook them in exchange for a splendid shrine dedicated to Hephaestion:327

‘If,’ the letter went on, ‘I am pleased with the temples and the shrine for Hephaestion you have prepared, then I will overlook any crimes you may have committed, and if you commit crimes in the future, however great, you will suffer no inconvenience from me.’ ἢν γὰρ καταλάβω ἐγώ, ἔλεγε τὰ γράμματα, τὰ ἱερὰ τὰ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ καλῶς κατεσκευασμένα καὶ τὰ ἡρῷα τὰ Ἡφαιστίωνος, εἴ τέ τι πρότερον ἡμάρτηκας, ἀφήσω σε τούτου, καὶ τὸ λοιπόν, ὁπηλίκον ἂν ἁμάρτῃς, οὐδὲν πείσῃ ἐξ ἐμοῦ ἄχαρι.

Cleomenes’ behavior as a public official in Egypt was of little concern to Alexander, except as it provided the king with leverage to insure prompt performance of his will. Furthermore, Cleomenes was in Egypt and controlled Egypt’s vast resources. He was therefore both powerful enough and far enough away from Alexanderwho after all never “returned” farther west than Babylonthat the king could hardly have punished him or forced his wishes upon him without considerable effort. And so we find the king negotiating with Cleomenes, from a strong position but not overwhelmingly so. Negotiation implies a degree of equality between parties and is therefore not the mark of authority. This example shows the fundamental problem Alexander faced in the last years of his life: his empire was too large and its constituent parts too powerful and, more and more, too independent for him to exert authority over all of them. Moreover, as we will see, Alexander’s efforts to restore his authority over certain areas could, and did, have unfortunate consequences elsewhere.

Many others seem to have behaved like Cleomenes while Alexander was gone, and some of these were within Alexander’s reach upon his return. We know of eleven governors, satraps, and senior officials deposed and executed after 325, several more who died from causes other than execution, and several summoned away from their posts and not returned before Alexander’s death.328 Apart from executing the worst offenders, or at least the most accessible ones, Alexander took a more general step against his satraps who had established their autonomy too well. Late in the year 325 BC, he issued a “Mercenaries Decree”, ordering his satraps to disband the armies of mercenaries they seem to have assembled privately (Diod. 17.106.3, 17.111.1-2; Curt. 10.1.45).329

The Mercenaries Decree was Alexander’s reaction to finding his conquered territory populated by other people’s armies. It could have been expected to insure that the military power in Asia answered only to Alexander, and thus insure that the king was the sole locus of authority. This cure for Asia, however, may have worsened the disease in Europe. First of all, the satraps do not seem to have become more loyal with the loss of their armies. On the contrary, Hyperides suggests that the next year the dissatisfied satraps were willing to lend assistance to anti-Macedonian parties in Greece. Referring to the growing rebelliousness among Greeks and others early in 323, the orator claims that Demosthenes alone lost Athens the help of the satraps, “who would otherwise willingly join forces with us, bringing their money and as many soldiers and they have” (τοὺς δὲ ς?[ατράπας,] οἳ αὐτοὶ ἂν ἧκο?[ν] ἑκόντες πρὸς ταύτη?[ν τὴν] δύναμιν, ἔχοντες τὰ χρήματα καὶ τοὺ[ς?] στρατιώτας ὅσους ἕκ?[α]στος αὐτῶν εἶχεν ) (Hyp. In Dem. col. 19). Despite the fact that these satraps did not give visible support to Macedonia’s opponents in Greece, Hyperides’ comment shows that the Mercenaries Decree may have fostered hope among Greeks who sought an end to the Macedonian hegemony.

Alexander’s decree caused an immediate practical problem for the hegemony in Greece as well. The satraps’ armies consisted largely of Greek mercenaries. According to Pausanias, Alexander wanted them to settle in Asia (1.25.5). However, as the incident with Athenodorus and the mercenaries in Bactria has shown us, when displaced Greeks found their employment at an end they did not necessarily look forward to starting a new life thousands of miles from home. In early 324, as a result of the Mercenaries Decree, several thousand Greek soldiers returned to Europe. Because many of them had become mercenaries in the first place after having been exiled from their native cities, they remained for the time being without homes and without employment.330 We will examine in greater detail what became of these men, but for the moment it is sufficient to note that the Mercenaries decree had two consequences that were potentially dangerous to Alexander’s interests: first, by stripping satraps of their armies and therefore much of their individual authority, the decree increased the ranks of people who had reason to resent Alexander’s Macedonia; second, the decree potentially increased the power of Macedonia’s opponents by creating a military force who might be willing to sell its allegiance to whoever could pay.

These problems must have become quickly apparent, because Alexander issued another decree regarding the stateless mercenaries. This Exiles Decree ordered the Greek states to repatriate those who had been exiled during the widespread political unrest that marked the second half of the 4th century BC (Diod. 17.109; 18.8.2-6; Curt. 10.2.4; Din. In Dem. 82; Hyp. In Dem. 18; Justin 13.5.2). The decree was not formally promulgated in Greece until Nicanor read a letter from Alexander to the exiles themselves at the Olympic festival, August 324 (Diod. 18.8.2).331 But Alexander’s intentions had been known since early that year. The Greeks certainly knew that an announcement would be made at Olympia, for Diodorus says that “all the exiles were present at the festival, numbering more than 20,000” (ἦσαν d*) οἱ φυγάδες ἀπηντηκότες ἅπαντες ἐπὶ τὴν πανήγυριν, ὄντες πλείους τῶν δισμυρίων ) (Diod. 18.8.6). Even if we replace Diodorus’ suspicious figure with a great many, and dismiss his statement that these represented “all” the exiles, this passage suggests that word of the decree preceded Nicanor to Olympia.332 Dinarchus provides complementary (and contemporary) evidence as well: “…when they were saying that Alexander was reinstating the exiles, and Nicanor had come to Olympia” (ἐπειδὴ δὲ τοὺς φυγάδας Ἀλέξανδρον ἔφασαν κατάγειν καὶ Νικάνωρ εἰς Ὀλυμπίαν ἧκεν ) (Din. In Dem. 82). The orator is careful to distinguish the prior rumors (what “they were saying”) with their later fulfillment, when Nicanor came to Olympia.333 Alexander must have made a decision regarding the exiles in March at the latest, to allow time for Nicanor’s journey from Susa. An inscription commemorates Alexander’s intention to return Samian exiles to Samos, an important part of the Exiles Decree, and says that he made his will known “at his camp” (ἐν τῷ στρατοπέδῳ ).334 R.M. Errington would put this camp at Babylon in 323 bc, in the context of later envoys who came to Asia in response to the Decree.335 However, A.J. Heisserer has pointed out that the Athenian βουλή reacted to the news about Samos by ordering Leosthenes to negotiate with the Aetolians “concerning an alliance” (περὶ συμμαχίας ) during the archonship of Anticles (325/4) (Diod. 17.111.1-4; cf. Justin 13.5.1-6). Heisserer thus puts Alexander’s public remarks on the Samian exiles, and therefore the earliest known expression of the Exiles Decree at a camp in Susa, early 324.336

The Exiles Decree is fundamental for our understanding of Macedonian and Greek politics in the final, critical years of Alexander’s life. Its impact on events was significant and ongoing, and we should be careful to note how this decree entered the discourse differently on two different occasions. Its initial announcement at Susa in early 324 was a response to a situation that existed in early 324, and its promulgation at Olympia in August of that year happened under very different circumstances, with different implications for our understanding of events. We will examine its place in the earlier context here, and reserve discussion of its later effect for the concluding chapter.

We can see the Exiles Decree in early 324 as an attempt to mitigate the two potentially damaging consequences of the Mercenaries Decree, which set loose a large body of trained soldiers who could be employed by those dissatisfied with Macedonian hegemony, while at the same perhaps driving dissatisfied officers and satraps into the arms of anti-Macedonian Greeks. With this new decree Alexander could have hoped to limit both sources of danger. The decree would profit the displaced Greeks, who would, if it were enforced, be able to return to their homes. At the same time, the decree could have been expected to throw into chaos those states that were potentially most dangerous to Macedonian power, particularly Athens. Diodorus makes explicit these possible benefits (18.8.2):337

For Alexander, a short time before his death, decided to restore all the exiles to the Greek cities, both for the sake of appearances, and wishing to have in each city many who were his own in their loyalties, opposed to the revolutions and revolts of the Greeks. Ἀλέξανδρος γὰρ βραχεῖ χρόνῳ πρότερον τῆς τελευτῆς ἔκρινε κατάγειν ἅπαντας τοὺς ἐν ταῖς Ἑλληνίσι πόλεσι φυγάδας, ἅμα μὲν δόξης ἕνεκεν, ἅμα δὲ βουλόμενος ἔχειν ἐν ἑκάστῃ πόλει πολλοὺς ἰδίους ταῖς εὐνοίαις πρὸς τοὺς νεωτερισμοὺς καὶ τὰς ἀποστάσεις τῶν Ἑλλήνων.

Diodorus does not say that the Exiles Decree intended to settle affairs in Europe, but to throw the Greeks off balance. In the short term it would not matter whether or not any exiles actually did return to their homes; as was the case when Alexander dealt with Cleomenes’ mismanagement of Egypt, the king did not seem as interested in the well-being of those in his sphere as in his immediate practical advantage. Alexander’s interests of the moment would have been well served if his decree gave the exiles an investment in Alexander’s authority, and forced those who resisted it to change whatever plans they might have had involving the homeless mercenaries.

The Athenians were especially affected by the Exiles Decree, since it threatened their possession of Samos. Since we know that Alexander’s intentions toward the Samians were made known in Susa, probably in early 324, this matter must inform our discussion of events before Nicanor’s general announcement in August. The Athenian Timotheus had taken Samos from the Persians in 366/5, and the Athenians had expelled many Samians and established a cleruchy there (Diog. Laert. 10.1; schol. ad Aesch. In Tim. 53; Diod. 18.8.7-9; Strabo 14.1; IG II2 1437, 1443, 3207.20-21).338 Thus the Athenians could consider their possession of Samos to predate even Philip II’s Common Peace and to have had Macedonia’s tacit approval.339 But Alexander seems to have favored the Samians, or at least to have entertained a pro-Samian lobby at his court. An inscription from Samos records the success with which Gorgos of Iasus interceded with Alexander. The inscription notes that Alexander announced his intention to restore Samos to the Samians, “with Gorgos having spent time with Alexander and showing great diligence and devotion on behalf of the δῆμος of the Samians, so that the Samians might return quickly to their homeland” (διατρίβων Γόργος παρὰ Ἀλεξάνδρωι πολλὴν εὄνοιαν καὶ [προ]θυμίαν παρείχετο περὶ τὸν δῆμο[ν τ]ὸν Σαμίων σπουδάζων, ὅπως ὅτ[ι τ]άχος Σάμιοι τὴμ πατρίδα κομίσαιντο ) (Syll.3 312 ll. 4-11).340

Our discussion of Antipater and Olympias at the beginning of this chapter noted that these two Macedonians seem to have refrained from interfering in Greek affairs, in any significant way at least, between 330 and 325 BC. This uneasy calm ended when Alexander made public his intentions regarding the Samians in the early months of 324. Apparently without reference to or consultation with his στρατηγός in Europe, Alexander had, from Susa, asserted Macedonian authority over Athens and had self-consciously challenged Athenian interests. We should note that on no previous occasion had Alexander’s Macedonia issued any demand to the Athenians that would directly and significantly harm the city’s power or prosperity. The consequences of this assertion of authority, at a time when Macedonian authority in Greece had gone largely unexercised for five years, and when Alexander’s own authority in Asia had been questioned, will be present throughout the remainder of this study. With this in mind, we should return to the exiled mercenaries themselves, and examine where they went when they left Asia, how they got there, and the role the Athenians played.

According to Pausanias, Alexander’s wishes regarding the former mercenaries were foiled by a man named Leosthenes (Paus. 1.25.5): Although Alexander wanted all those Greeks who were soldiers for pay under Darius and under the satraps to settle in Persia, Leosthenes acted first and conveyed them in ships to Europe. ὁπόσοι γὰρ μισθοῦ παρὰ Δαρείῳ καὶ σατράπαις ἐστρατεύοντο Ἕλληνες, ἀνοικίσαι σφᾶς ἐς τὴν Περσίδα θελήσαντος Ἀλεξάνδρου Λεωσθένης ἔφθη κομίσας ναυσὶν ἐς τὴν Εὐρώπην. And (Paus. 8.52.5): He took the Greek mercenaries in Persiasome 50,000 of themput them on ships, and conveyed them by sea to Greece, all against the will of Alexander. μέν γε τὸ Ἑλλήνων μισθοφορικὸν [2τὸ]2 [καὶ] ἐν Πέρσαις περὶ πέντε που μυριάδας ἐπὶ θάλασσαν καταβάντας ναυσὶν ἐς τὴν Ἑλλάδα ἀνέσωσε καὶ ἄκοντος Ἀλεξάνδρου·

In early 324, thousands of soldiers crossed the Aegean to Taenarum, where they assumed some sort of organization: Diodorus says that they were joined by Persian satraps and generals who had “survived” (περιλειφθέντες ), referring perhaps to men who escaped Alexander’s purges (17.111.3). It is not clear that the mercenaries had any particular intentions, but whatever their plans, Taenarum was a suitable destination. It had been a Spartan naval base for some time (cf. Arr. 2.13.6), and its geography made it nearly unassailable.341

The identity of Leosthenes and his intentions regarding the mercenaries requires some discussion. Some scholars have noted the resonance between these mercenariesreleased from their commands in Asia and banding together, homelessand Xenophon’s 10,000; thus Leosthenes has been portrayed as an adventuring condottiere leading self-governing exiles. Mendels, for example, says that the mercenaries “acted as a political entity” and elevated Leosthenes to lead them.342 But it is difficult to imagine such a “political entity” acting on its own for long, and we have reason to suspect that the Athenians had a hand in organizing and maintaining the military population at Taenarum. Leosthenes himself was an Athenianhe was later to command the Athenian forces that besieged Antipater’s army at Lamiabut to what extent he was an Athenian in early 324 has been debated. J.K. Davies notes that if this Leosthenes was the son of the Athenian Leosthenes who was exiled for treason in 362/1 BC (Diod. 15.95; Polyaen. 6.2.1-2), then the mercenary leader may have been disenfranchised in 324, unable to participate in the Athenian democracy due to a fine of ἀτιμία.343 If this were the case, then Leosthenes’ involvement with the mercenaries would have been a private affair, not an effort of Athenian policy. Hyperides’ praise of Leosthenes, which appears in the funeral oration given in 322 bc for those who died in the Lamian war, does divide Leosthenes’ career into, first, his service as mercenary captain and, second, his command of Athenian troops (Hyp. Ep. col. 5): And having raised a mercenary army, he assumed command of the army of citizens and defeated the first opponents of Greek freedom, the Boeotians, Macedonians and Euboeans, as well as their allies, in a battle in Boeotia. καὶ ξενικὴν μὲν δύναμιν [2συ]2στησάμενος, τῆς δὲ πολιτικῆς ἡγεμὼν καταστὰς τοὺς πρώτους ἀντιταξαμένους τῆι τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἐλευθερίαι Βοιωτοὺς καὶ Μακεδόνας καὶ Εὐβοέας καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους συμμάχους αὐτῶν ἐνίκησε μαχόμενος ἐν τῆι Βοιωτίαι.

The orator presents the ξενικὴ δύναμις , the mercenary army, first among Leosthenes’ accomplishments, before his assumption of leadership of the citizenry. But this order need not be temporal; the two participles are both aorist, both equally prior to the main verb, and more importantly, they are balanced by the antithetical/ concessive μέν δέ . The effect is to subordinate the mercenary army to the more important (in a public funeral oration) πολιτικὴ δύναμις . So Hyperides’ evidence does not necessarily imply that Leosthenes’ involvement at Taenarum was independent of his service to Athens.

Further evidence has emerged in this century to suggest that Leosthenes was not only enfranchised but actually held office in the Athenian year 324/3. An inscription from Athens mentions some officials for that year: three στρατηγοί, the κοσμητής, the σωφρονίστης, two ἐπιμεληταί, and a διδάσκαλος (Michel, RIG suppl. II 1704).344 Leosthenes from Cephale is listed as “general over the territory” (στρατηγὸς ἐπὶ χώρᾳ ). Since generals were elected in the 6th prytany of the Athenian year (Ath. Pol. 44.4), Leosthenes would have been elected στρατηγός in early 324, although he would not have begun his term until that summer.345 Leosthenes also held, in all likelihood, the trierarchy at some point before 324/3 BC. This office entailed financial support for a warship and often caused its holders to fall into debt; an inscription records Leosthenes’ estate (κληρονόμοι) as owing on such a debt in 324/3 (the archonship of Cephisodorus).346

Leosthenes held the trierarchy before the mercenaries gathered at Taenarum; he was elected “general over the territory” while they were doing so; and he assumed the office later the same year. This strongly suggests that the Athenians were responsible for assembling this mercenary army.347 The author of the pseudo-Plutarchan Lives of the Ten Orators says that the orator Hyperides, “argued in the assembly that they not disband the mercenary army at Taenarum, the one Chares had assembled, for Hyperides was well-disposed to the general” (συνεβούλευσε δὲ καὶ τὸ ἐπὶ Ταινάρῳ ξενικὸν μὴ διαλῦσαι, οὗ Χάρης ἡγεῖτο, εὐνόως πρὸς τὸν στρατηγὸν διακείμενος ) (Plut. Mor. 848e [Vit. X Or.]). The name “Chares” is a problem, since this source alone mentions him in connection with Taenarum, and this source is not among the most reliable. Chares was active in the Aegean in 331, and some have dated this passage to the period of naval warfare following Alexander’s invasion of Asia.348 Griffith points out, however, that before the Spartans’ defeat in 330 bc they and not the Athenians would have been responsible for any troops at the Laconian port of Taenarumwe should remember that the Athenians pointedly avoided participation in Sparta’s military efforts against Macedonia. “To read Leosthenes instead,” he argues, “redeems the text from sheer nonsense.” 349

Furthermore, accounts of Harpalus’ arrival at Athens might support the idea of an Athenian-supported force in the Peloponnese. Diodorus says that after Harpalus was turned away from Attica, “when no one would accept him, he left his mercenaries near Taenarum in Laconia and taking part of him money became a suppliant to the δῆμος ” (οὐδενὸς δὲ αὐτῷ προσέχοντος τοὺς μὲν μισθοφόρους ἐπέλιπε περὶ Ταίναρον τῆς Λακωνικῆς, αὐτὸς δὲ μέρος τῶν χρημάτων ἀναλαβὼν ἱκέτης ἐγένετο τοῦ δήμου ) (17.108.7).350 If the Athenians were involved with the soldiers at Taenarum, Harpalus would certainly have helped his case with the Athenians by adding his own troops to this body. We might also read in this context Hyperides’ statement that Demosthenes lost Athens the support of the satraps (Hyp. In Dem. 19). If the orator can be trusted, these satraps will have been interested in the forces at Taenarum, and will have been pleased by the addition of Harpalus’ troops. It was Demosthenes who moved that Harpalus be held at Athens (Hyp. In Dem. 8), and this act of official prevarication might have disheartened potential supporters for action against Macedonia.351

These several pieces of evidence, taken together, make an argument that the Athenians authorized Leosthenes to ferry mercenaries from Asia to Taenarum, but no single piece presents a particularly strong case. O. Schmitt has questioned this interpretation and has suggested another view of events. First of all, he argues, conveying thousands of men across the Aegean must have been a prolonged undertaking involving immense resources; it is difficult to imagine such an operation going on under Macedonian noses without interference. Second, there were those in Athens who supported Macedonia’s position of primacy in Greece, so there can have been no hope of keeping secret even the intention to assemble an large army of mercenaries.352 So, Schmitt argues, Leosthenes must have conveyed these troops on behalf of Alexander himself, in order to form a Macedonian Reservepotential in the Peloponnese, to make up for the depletion of Macedonian manpower during Alexander’s campaigns.353

Schmitt’s theory is interesting, but demands that we accept too many questionable propositions, while it resolves too few problems. It would answer the question of how the mercenaries got from the coast of Asia to the Peloponnese and how they were maintained once there. However, Schmitt does not adequately explain why Alexander would employ Leosthenes, an Athenian, rather than a Macedonian or even a Persian, to lead a force that can only have been intended for war with Athens.354 Furthermore, Diodorus mentions many of the men at Taenarum being, in 323, “weaponless” (ἀνόπλους ), a strange state of preparedness for troops in Alexander’s pay (Diod. 18.9.5). If Taenarum was a Macedonian stronghold in 324 it would seem unlikely for Harpalus, having fled his position in Asia, to have stopped there upon reaching Greece. For that matter, his adding soldiers to the garrison would be a strange way to win the confidence of the Athenians. The debate that Harpalus’ arrival sparked at Athens, from what we can tell, seems to show a certain fear of Macedonian retribution, but hardly what one would expect with a huge invasion force a single day’s journey away. Finally, Schmitt’s argument depends entirely on the Athenians’ being unable to undertake this task with their own resources, which may or may not have been the case. Athens had a large navy in 324perhaps larger than Alexander’sAlexander was far from the Aegean coast. Taking these two considerations together with Hyperides’ comment on the anti-Macedonian sentiment among many satraps, we might explain how the “boatlift” could have taken place unmolested (Hyp. In Dem. 19).

Despite the uncertainty of our evidence, we can conclude that Athens at least approved of the congregation at Taenarum, and may well have sponsored it. Leosthenes was involved while already “ στρατηγός-elect”. Harpalus was able to reassure the Athenians by leaving his own mercenaries at Taenarum. And while we cannot say with any certainty whose authority brought about this stateless army in the Peloponnese, the Athenians were quick to assert custody of it once Alexander had died (Diod. 18.9.4): And when some people returned from Babylon having seen the ‘eclipse’ of the king with their own eyes, the People prepared openly for war and sent some of Harpalus’ money and many arms to Leosthenes and ordered him to act secretly no longer, but to proceed with preparations openly. ἐπεὶ δέ τινες ἐκ Βαβυλῶνος ἧκον αὐτόπται γεγονότες τῆς τοῦ βασιλέως μεταλλαγῆς, τότε φανερῶς δῆμος ἀπεκαλύψατο πρὸς τὸν πόλεμον καὶ τῶν μὲν Ἁρπάλου χρημάτων μέρος ἐξέπεμψε τῷ Λεωσθένει καὶ πανοπλίας οὐκ ὀλίγας καὶ παρήγγειλε μηκέτι παρακρύπτειν, ἀλλὰ φανερῶς πράττειν τι τῶν συμφερόντων.

By mentioning the Athenians’ decision to act “openly”, Diodorus implies that they had been preparing for war covertly for some time previously. Leosthenes seems to have wanted only orders, supplies, and a payroll to bring his army to the ready. Justin says that in response to the Macedonian threat, the Athenians “contracted” 30,000 men (contracto XXX milium exercitu), who seem likely to have been the very mercenaries we are discussing (13.5.2). Plutarch, too, refers to “the Athenians beginning to help Harpalus and to arm themselves against Alexander” (τῶν γὰρ Ἀθηναίων ὡρμημένων Ἁρπάλῳ βοηθεῖν καὶ κορυσσομένων ἐπὶ τὸν Ἀλεξανδρον ) (Plut. Mor. 531a [De Vit. Pud.]).355 The evidence is vague, but does help us to conclude that the mercenaries at Taenarum received at least some Athenian support in 324 and 323, although we cannot know its extent.356 We should not, however, imagine that there can have been any secrecy about the implications of jobless soldiers under an Athenian commander.357 Yet Antipater seems to have taken no steps to prevent these soldiers from collecting in the south, to force them to disband, or to confront them. We have seen how Antipater worked after 330 to prevent having to fight another major campaign in Greece, and we should probably conclude that in 324 he was unwilling to start a war with Athens on his own initiative; indeed, he did nothing until the Athenians marched north toward Macedonia in 323. The troops at Taenarum received support from somewhere during their eighteen-month wait, and their continued presence en masse suggests that war between the Macedonians and Greeks was, already at the beginning of 324, deemed inevitable. Further discussion of Antipater’s inaction belongs properly in an analysis of the Harpalus Affair and the events that followed to the end of Alexander’s life, and so we will take up this problem again in the final chapter.

We have by now seen the immediate results of Alexander’s Mercenaries Decree and concomitant Exiles Decree, issued in the winter of 325/4. The former worked to limit the autonomous power and authority that his satraps in Asia had assumed during his absence. The latter worked to limit the damage to a Macedonian hegemony caused by the Mercenaries Decree. Together they created a destabilizing situation in Greece and broke the uneasy calm that seems to have prevailed since the end of 330. The Exiles Decree directly threatened Athenian interests and represents the first occasion in Alexander’s career when the Macedonian hegemony did so. Because of the Mercenaries decree, thousands of Greek soldiers lost their places in Asia and came to Greece through the efforts of an Athenian. The Exiles Decree had not yet been generally announced, but it already gave the Athenians, at least, both a motive for resisting Macedonian authority, and increased potential to do so.

· Conclusions ·

This chapter has treated events in Greece from the end of 330 bc to the beginning of 324, as well as Alexander’s return from the east in 325 and the immediate consequences thereof. We have seen that, in Greece, neither of the two most prominent Macedonians did much to assert their authority over the Greeks. Olympias clearly retained her association with Alexander in the eyes of the Athenians and its attendant potential for action authoritatively, but unlike during the period 335-330, we do not find her participating in the public sphere. Antipater followed his victory over Agis with a serious of measures to insure the security of his power, installing tyrannies, establishing pro-Macedonian oligarchies, and maintaining garrisons at key points. But beyond these there are few examples of his acting on behalf of a Macedonian authority larger than his own. In the case of his negotiations with Aetolia, in fact, Antipater seems to have acted contrary to Alexander’s wishes. During these years the order in Greece was “Macedonian” only by virtue of inertia, and the lack of any challenge. Alexander’s return from India reveals to us, as it must have revealed to the Macedonians and the Greeks at the time, the extent to which the coherence of his domain depended on his presence and personal intervention. He found that during his absence a number of highly placed officials had not only turned their offices to their own ends, but had acquired private armies, the most visible and (to Alexander) dangerous tokens of autonomous authority. His efforts to resume command of the structures of power may have helped secure his position in Asia, but did serious damage to the security of a Macedonian hegemony in Greece and its prospects. His “purge” of the satraps and his decree disbanding the satraps armies’ increased potential support for any in Greece who would have challenged Macedonia. The mercenaries dislocated by the decree, Greek but largely stateless, represented a destabilizing army, should anyone hire their services. Alexander’s response to these problems, the Exiles Decree, was present in the discourse of events early in 324, but was not made official until August. The time during which the decree was rumored but not yet announced worsened matters. The Athenians knew that Alexander was threatening their possessions on Samos, but the business of restoring the exiles to their cities, and thereby disarming their potential as a force to be used against Macedonia, would not begin for months. During this time the Athenian Leosthenes, with the approval if not the sponsorship of the Athenians, conveyed mercenaries from Asia to the Peloponnese and organized them at Taenarum. Antipater did nothing to prevent it. And with this we move from the period delineated in terms of Alexander’s return to the series of crises that challenged Macedonian authority in Greece. We have seen how the dynamic relationships among the Greeks, Olympias, and Antipater, had evolved since Alexander crossed the Hellespont in 335. With this as context we may return to the Harpalus Affair and the futile Macedonian embassies.

— Notes for section 7 —

Note 294

J.R. Hamilton (1969) 212 ad Plut. Alex. 42.5. Cf. F. Schachermeyr (1949) 238; E. Badian (1967) 190; U. Wilcken (1967) 147; N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 77.

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Note 295

It is worth pointing out that the “rumor” here, that which Arrian doubts, is not Olympias’ accusations against Antipater, only whether Alexander acted on them. The two sentences, while convoluted, make this clear: “Among those who enjoyed telling secrets (the more secret the better) - the people who prefer to twist something straightforward away from the truth, so it seems shameful - this particular rumor circulated: that Alexander was yielding to his mother’s slanders, and so was considering removing Antipater from Macedonia. And as it happened he tried to remove Antipater, not because of any fault in the man, but so there would not be any irreparable or out-of-control damage arising from Olympias’ and Antipater’s quarrel.” (*lo/gos de/ tis ou(=tos e)foi/ta a)fanh\s para\ toi=s ta\ basilika\ pra/gmata, o(/sw| e)pikru/ptetai, tosw=|de filotimo/teron e)chgoume/nois, kai\ to\ pisto\n e)s to\ xei=ron ma=llon, h(=| to\ ei)ko/s te kai\ h( au)tw=n moxqhri/a a)/gei, h)\ pro\s to\ a)lhqe\s e)ktre/pousin, e)chttw/menon *)ale/candron h)/dh th=s mhtro\s tw=n diabolw=n tw=n e)s *)anti/patron a)palla/cai e)qe/lein e)k *makedoni/as *)anti/patron. kai\ tuxo\n ou)k e)s a)timi/an th\n *)antipa/trou h( meta/pemyis au)tou= e)/feren, a)ll*) w(s mh/ ti e)k th=s diafora=s au)toi=s ge/noito a)/xari e)s a)llh/lous kai\ ou)de\ au)tw=| i)a/simon.)

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Note 296

E. Carney (1987a) 49 n.43, is properly skeptical toward these letters, but I would not agree that “rejecting all ‘epistolary’ information about her is not unreasonable.” For these letters, see also: J.R. Hamilton (1969) 89; D. Mendels (1984) 139 n.56; N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 172.

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Note 297

W.L.T. Adams (1984) 83.

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Note 298

Pace N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 214: “But Antipater prevailed with the help of his Greek allies, and Alexander gave easy terms to the insurgents. He hoped by these lenient methods to hold the Greeks of the Common Peace together during what he realized would be an absence of several more years.” The weight of evidence, I would argue, suggests that in 330 BC Alexander had little interest in Greek affairs.

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Note 299

W.L.T. Adams (1984) 84 n.32; R. Sealey (1993) 207.

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Note 300

K. Rosen (1967) 76-68; W.L.T. Adams (1984) 84 and n.33.

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Note 301

Cf. above, page 74 and note 206.

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Note 302

Cf. W.L.T. Adams (1984) 83-84; E. Badian (1961) 28; P. Green (1991) 298; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 91 ad Plut. Alex. 24.2

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Note 303

A.J. Heisserer (1980) 228; D. Mendels (1984) 139 and n.59.

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Note 304

A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 428.

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Note 305

Aesch. in Ctes. 107 (twice), 108, 109, 112, 116 (twice), 119, 122, 124 (twice), 128, 129.

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Note 306

For Thebes: Arr 1.9.9; Diod 17.14; Plut Alex. 11.5-6; Justin 11.3.7-11.4.12.

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Note 307

F. Mitchel (1973) 171.

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Note 308

IG II2 1629; Plut. Mor. (Vit. X. Or.) 852c; W.W. Tarn (1927c) 441; F. Mitchel (1973) 211; O. Schmitt (1992) 67.

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Note 309

F. Mitchel (1973) 212-214; O. Schmitt (1992) 69-71.

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Note 310

W.W. Tarn (1927c) 440-441. For a critique of Tarn’s view, suggesting it to be at once too simple and too complex, see F. Mitchel (1973). See also, L. Tritle (1988); M.H. Hansen (1989) 63; I. Worthington (1992) 43 and n.9.

The details of Athenian politics during this period are beyond the scope of the present study, but have been covered at length many times, notably: G. Mathieu (1929); P. Cloché (1957); F. Mitchel (1965); F. Mitchel (1973); S. Jaschinski (1981); W. Will (1983); L. Tritle (1988); M.H. Hansen (1989); I. Worthington (1992); M.H. Hansen (1991); R. Sealey (1993); E.M. Harris (1994).

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Note 311

See A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 445, 462; L. Tritle (1988) 43-44, 120 n.50; R. Sealey (1993) 214 and n.33.

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Note 312

Cf. H. Berve (1926) 337-338. Alexander’s deification is discussed in chapter VI.

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Note 313

W. Will (1983) 126 n.185: “Nach Berve II 338 war Pytheas unter Alexander ein Gegner der Makedonen. Dem widersprich eindeutig der Übertritt im Jahre 323/2 an die Seite des Antipater.”

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Note 314

J. Bousquet (1974) 22-23; N.G.L. Hammond (1980) 462; N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 58-59.

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Note 315

For the suggestion that this sum was Antipater’s gift: N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 89.

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Note 316

For the geographical importance of Oeniadae, see Polyb. 4.65.8-10.

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Note 317

Cf. E. Badian (1961) 37 n.159; R. Sealey (1993) 213. For Aetolia and the Common Peace, see H. Bengtson Staatsverträge II.403.

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Note 318

D. Mendels (1984) 131.

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Note 319

D. Mendels (1984), esp. 138. For an opposing view, see O. Schmitt (1992) 88 and n.25; he calls Mendels’ theory “unhaltbarkeit”.

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Note 320

E. Badian (1961) 37, and J.R. Hamilton (1969) 138-139 would put these negotiations in 324 bc, in the context of the Harpalus Affair and the Exiles Decree; Badian says, “Plutarch presents, as he often does, a logical as a chronological connection”. D. Mendels (1984) 132 n.52, counters: “But, one can argue, that sometimes Plutarch does not present a logical as a chronological connection! Moreover, Diod. 18.8.6, cited by Badian to fix the date of the negotiations to 324 simply refers to the seizure of Oeniadae and Alexander’s threat, events which occurred several years earlier, as also the other issue mentioned, i.e. Athens’ cleruchic occupation of Samos. There is no reason to conclude that the negotiations between Aetolia and Antipater took place in 324. Thus the Diodorus passage (18.8.6) cannot reasonably be adduced to counter the context given in Plut. Alex. 49.14-15.”

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Note 321

D. Mendels (1984) 137, notes that Aetolia seems to have been remarkably free of internal turmoil.

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Note 322

See D. Mendels (1984) 136.

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Note 323

Cf. Plut. Alex. 29.7-8; Curt. 4.11.1-22; Justin 11.12.9-15; A.B. Bosworth (1988) 76.

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Note 324

While Diodorus reports these rebels as having been massacred by the Macedonians (kateko/phsan), Curtius reports them as having made their escape (Curt. 9.7.11; cf. Diod. 18.7.1-9). See also, G.T. Griffith (1935) 24-26.

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Note 325

D. Mendels (1984) 141-142.

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Note 326

For Harpalus’ “corruption” in Babylon: Diod. 17.108.4-6; Curt. 10.1.45. For his Athenian ἑταῖραι: Athen. 13.586b-d; Athen. 594d-596a. Also, I. Worthington (1992) 41.

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Note 327

For the authenticity of this letter, see J.R. Hamilton (1953) 157; J. Vogt (1971). For Cleomenes generally, H. Berve (1926) no. 432; A.B. Bosworth (1988) 234-235; W. Will (1983) 109-110; O. Schmitt (1992) 9.

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Note 328

Arr. 6.15.3, 6.27.1, 6.27.3-4, 7.4.1, 7.6.1; Curt. 9.8.9, 9.10.21, 9.10.29, 10.1.1-2, 10.1.39; Plut. Alex. 68.4. For the definitive discussion of the details surrounding these purges, see E. Badian (1961) 16-18. Also, H. Berve (1926) vol. 1, 276, vol. 2 nos. 200, 519, 780, 785; S. Jaschinski (1981) 26-27. A.B. Bosworth (1971) 123 and n.3, thinks that Badian’s account, while generally accurate, “probably exaggerates the extent of the terror”; he does not, however, offer much contradictory evidence.

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Note 329

See G.T. Griffith (1935) 33; E. Badian (1961) 25-27; F. Schachermeyr (1973) 479; D. Mendels (1984) 141; R. Sealey (1993) 212. S. Jaschinski (1981) 48-49, argues for a later date on the strength of Hyp. in Dem. col. 19, and Diod. 18.9.1-4, which both mention the affair of Harpalus in the spring and summer of 324. This dating scheme is unique to Jaschinski, and seems unlikely. The passage from Diodorus he mentions also includes the death of Alexander and the Lamian War, thus condensing a period of at least a year; accordingly, it is a poor source for chronological argument. The passage from Hyperides mentions satraps being restless, which could just as easily be a result of the Mercenaries Decree as a cause thereof. Alternatively, the “satraps” Hyperides mentions could have been the same ones Diodorus mentions as having accompanied the mercenaries to Greece (o(moi/ws de\ kai\ tw=n *persikw=n satrapw=n kai\ tw=n a)/llwn h(gemo/nwn oi( perileifqe/ntes xrh/mata/ te kai\ stratiw/tas a)qroi/zontes e)/pleon e)pi\ *tai/naron th=s *lakwnikh=s) (17.111.2), which would imply that the Mercenaries Decree predated the Harpalus Affair. Jaschinski does admit that an earlier date, late in 325, would make narrative sense: “Im ersten Fall wäre das Söldnerdekret eine von mehren Maßnahmen gewesen, die er nach seiner Rückkehr aus Indien traf, um die Macht der Satrapen zu brechen und ihren während seiner Abwesenheit erworbene Selbständigkeit in eine absolute Unterwerfung unter seinen Willen zu verwandeln.” For further discussion of Jaschinski’s thesis, see M. Errington (1982); O. Schmitt (1992) 15.

Artaxerxes III had issued a similar decree to his satraps (Schol. Dem. 4.19; Diod. 16.22.1); R. Sealey (1993) 105 n.8.

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Note 330

For a social history of exiles in 324 BC, S. Jaschinski (1981) 73-83.

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Note 331

R. Sealey (1960); R.M. Errington (1975) 53; S. Jaschinski (1981) 62-63.

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Note 332

E. Bikerman (1940) 30.

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Note 333

See N.G. Ashton (1983) 51.

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Note 334

Syll. 3 312 l. 12-13; cf. E. Bikerman (1940) 29-30.

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Note 335

Diod. 17.113.3-4; Arr. 7.19.1, 7.23.2. R.M. Errington (1975) 54-55.

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Note 336

A.J. Heisserer (1980) 188-189. For bibliography, see H.H. Schmitt (1969) no. 413.

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Note 337

Cf. D. Mendels (1984) 143-144, contra E. Bikerman (1940) 35; S. Jaschinski (1981) 73-85.

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Note 338

A.J. Heisserer (1980) 186; R. Sealey (1993) 106.

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Note 339

F. Mitchel (1973) 211.

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Note 340

A.J. Heisserer (1980) 184-193. This Gorgos is the same man who offered Alexander panoplies and siege engines for an invasion of Attica (Athen. 538b).

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Note 341

G.T. Griffith (1935) 259. Griffith describes Taenarum thus: “From the land it could be approached only through Spartan territory, and even supposing that a hostile army reached the neck of the promontory, an assault was still almost out of the question; the two possible routes are difficult even today, and could have been made impassable by a small defending force. …It was the one place in Greece where one could be perfectly safe from the Macedonians.”

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Note 342

D. Mendels (1984) 142-143. Cf. K.J. Beloch (1923) 4.1 p. 68; R. Sealey (1993) 212 and n.150.

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Note 343

J.K. Davies (1971) 342-343.

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Note 344

G. Mathieu (1929) 161-168.

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Note 345

G. Mathieu (1929) 168. Cf. K.J. Beloch (1923) 4.2 p.24.

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Note 346

IG II2 1631. For the definitive discussion of this evidence, see I. Worthington (1987).

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Note 347

E. Badian (1961) 38; S. Jaschinski (1981) 49-50; N.G. Ashton (1983) 51-54; A.B. Bosworth (1988) 225; N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988); L. Tritle (1988) 435.

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Note 348

H. Berve (1926) no. 819; H.W. Parke (1928) 201.

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Note 349

G.T. Griffith (1935) 35-36 and n.4.

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Note 350

P. Cloché (1957) 267; I. Worthington (1992) 49-50.

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Note 351

See N.G. Ashton (1983) 53: “The Athenian action resulted in other Greek πόλεις (and perhaps even ‘Persian’ satraps) abandoning plans for rebellion, no doubt having viewed the treatment of Harpalus as a sign that Athens had no further intention to organize the above mentioned du/namis.”

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Note 352

O. Schmitt (1992) 13-17. For Macedonian informants, Dem. 17.11; Hyp. Pro Eux. col. 20, Ep. col. 11; Din. In Dem. 28, 104; Plut. Dem. 27.2.

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Note 353

O. Schmitt (1992) 19-23. He also accepts Plut. Mor. (Vit. X Or.) 848e as accurate, saying that Alexander also retained Chares for this task.

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Note 354

His explanation that Leosthenes got the job because of Gastfreundschaft is unconvincing: O. Schmitt (1992) 21.

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Note 355

N.G. Ashton (1983) 54.

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Note 356

So G. Mathieu (1929) 168; I. Worthington (1987) 490.

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Note 357

As E. Badian (1961) 38, implies when referring to Leosthenes’ “secret appeal” to the Athenian βουλή.

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(Section 8 of 9)

·  The Failure of Macedonian Authority ·

With the Harpalus Affair we have returned to the point of departure. We began with the two-sided question: Why did three separate Macedonian embassies seek Harpalus’ extradition from Athens, and why did the Athenians reject all three? Because these questions concerned the structures of power and authority both between the Greeks and the Macedonian hegemony, and within Macedonian ranks, we have examined these relationships, their respective bases, and how they changed during the years 335-324 bc. We have seen that the institutional foundation for a Macedonian hegemony, the Common Peace, did not in practice work to the benefit of the Macedonians in Greece. We have also seen how the two principal Macedonians in this hegemony, Antipater and Olympias, enjoyed authority based mainly on their own actions. Both were associated with Alexander, but neither could rely on a well-defined office or title to provide traditional or formal authority. Of these two, Antipater wielded far more power, but Olympias seems to have been more successful at assuming an authoritative position when dealing with the Greeks. She also secured her autonomy from Antipater by moving to Epirus in 330. Antipater fulfilled his functionmaintaining the security of Macedonian power in Greecewith his own resources, rather than soliciting support from the states of the Common Peace. Antipater’s position was not helped by Alexander’s demands on Macedonian manpower or his rhetoric, which seriously contradicted Antipater’s actions. During Alexander’s five-year-long march to India and back, both Antipater and Olympias seem to have entrenched themselves in their respective positions; the surviving evidence suggests that their interaction with the Greeks ebbed during this time. The period of relative calm from 330 to 325 ended with Alexander’s return to Susa. He found that many of his officers and satraps had failed to act as was proper for servants of the king’s empire, but had exploited their positions and, most seriously, assembled private armies. Alexander reacted by executing a number of officials and issuing the so-called Mercenaries Decree, which ordered the satraps to disband their armies. They did, and while the decree no doubt helped Alexander maintain control over his Asian provinces, it created an unacceptable situation in Greece, as many of the jobless mercenaries made their way west across the Aegean. Alexander then issued the Exiles Decree, or at least made his intention to do so known at Susa in early 324. This second order commanded the cities of Greece to readmit and reenfranchise all those who had been exiled for political reasons. The Exiles Decree probably effected the return of no exiles during the first half of 324, because it would not be promulgated in Greece until the Olympic festival in August, but it affected events nevertheless. The Athenians were particularly concerned about the threat to their possessions on Samos. With this background, then, we can reexamine the Harpalus Affair, and hope to suggest some answers to our questions.

· The Harpalus Affair: Summary of Events ·

A brief review of the Harpalus Affair itself is in order. Alexander’s treasurer, Harpalus, fled from his post in Asia with 5,000 talents of silver and 6,000 mercenaries (Diod. 17.108.6).358 He sailed with thirty ships to Sunium in Attica and requested admittance to Athens (Curt. 10.2.1). His first arrival must have been impressive and frightening to the Athenians, who refused to let him land (Diod. 17.108.7; Plut. Mor. 846a [Vit. X Or.]). With this he sailed to Taenarum, left the greater part of his entourage there, and returned as a suppliant to Athens with two ships and 700 talents (Diod. 17.108.7).359 Philocles, the Athenian στρατηγός responsible for the ports (στρατηγὸς ἐπὶ τήν Μουνιχίαν καὶ τὰ νεώρια ) admitted him, probably against the orders of the assembly (Din. In Phil. 1-2).360

The very fact of Harpalus’ arrival at Athens reveals something of Athens position vis-à-vis Macedonian power. Harpalus already had ties to Athens, having been involved with several Athenian women and having been given honorary citizenship there.361 Part of his reason for choosing Athens as a destination had to do with these pre-existing ties, no doubt, but his most pressing concern will have been to escape from Alexander’s power. He clearly saw Athens as a refuge, a place where he could be beyond Alexander’s reach, at least temporarily.

The very fact of his arrival at Sunium, then, tells us something about the scope of Macedonian authorityHarpalus, a high-ranking officer in Alexander’s empire, saw a hope of safety among Athenians. Athenian military power was, in Greece, second only to Antipater’sif thatand there were voices among the Athenians that opposed Macedonia’s hegemonic assumptions.362 Harpalus failed to gain admittance on his first attempt to enter Athens precisely because of the tense relationship between Athens and the Macedonians.363 In 323, Dinarchus reminded the Athenians that they had turned Harpalus away because, “you thought [him] to have arrived intending to seize your city” (h)/|sqeq*) ἥκειν καταληψόμενον τὴν πόλιν ὑμῶν ) (Din. In Arist. 4). They assumed that thirty Macedonian warships must represent an invasion because they, better than anyone, knew what reasons Alexander might have for invading Athens. Only once he had got rid of his fleet and his mercenary army, thus shedding the coat of a Macedonian officer, was he allowed to enter Athens as suppliant.

At the same time, the Athenians were not brazenly defiant of Macedonia. If Harpalus hoped that his hosts would swiftly embrace him publicly, he was mistaken in his understanding of the relationship between Athens and the Macedonian hegemony, and must not have paid attention to Athens’ recent history. As in 336, when the Thebans expelled their Macedonian garrison, or in 332 when Agis began a war with Antipater, the Athenians in 324 BC waited and debated. We have seen the fear with which the Athenians regarded Harpalus’ fleet, and we have seen the arguments put forth over what to do with Harpalus. The city’s policy cannot be described as anti-Macedonian, and many citizens were clearly frightened of Alexander’s power. But at the same time, the Athenians were in some sense “extra-Macedonian”. Their debate focused on their own interests and internal issues, with no regard for Macedonian authority.364 Ernst Badian has shown the extent to which Harpalus’ flight was damaging to Alexander’s authority in Asia and entirely the result of the king’s policies there.365 But the fact that the Athenians rejected three embassies who tried to take possession of Harpalus, will reveal a failure of Macedonian authority in Greece that was complete and perhaps inevitable.

Before examining the reception of these embassies, however, we should examine their dispatch. The least equivocal evidence tells us that Philoxenus, one of Alexander’s lieutenants in Asia, first demanded Harpalus’ extradition (Plut. Mor. 531a [De Vit. Pud.]; Hyp. Dem. col. 8; Polyaen. Strat. 6.49; Arr. 7.23.1).366 Despite Philoxenus’ credentials as one of Alexander’s men in Asia, the Athenians did not give Harpalus up (Hyp. Dem. 8). After the representatives of Philoxenus, two other embassies arrived. Diodorus refers to Harpalus “sought for by Antipater and Olympias” (ἐξαιτούμενος δὲ u(p*) Ἀντιπάτρου καὶ Ὀλυμπιάδος ) (17.108.7). Plutarch, also mentions Antipater (Plut. Mor. 846b [Vit. X Or.]). There were now three embassies representing three different Macedonians, each of whom could claim to be an authorized representative of Alexander’s will.

· The Harpalus Affair: Three Embassies ·

But why did these three Macedonians each issue a demand for Alexander’s treasurer? None of our sources gives a reason, and it would be irresponsible to paint too colorful a picture. We can, however, suggest an answer based on Antipater’s and Olympias’ actions prior to the summer of 324. Both Antipater and Olympias enjoyed authority derived from Alexander, and no other person in Europe outranked them. But neither held a clearly defined office, one that would confer institutional or traditional authorityand establish the limits thereofbeyond the boundaries of the Macedonian state. In Alexander’s absence, then, there was no one to mediate between the two and no structure to delineate the boundary between one’s authority and the other’s. From 335 to 324 Antipater and Olympias each enjoyed authority in Greece only when acting authoritatively, and they enjoyed only as much power as they could secure for themselves.

For this reason Olympias remained in Pella while Alexander was relatively nearby in western Asia Minor. Pella was a recognized platform from which she could project authority as a Macedonian and as the mother of Alexander. Also, in the early years of her son’s rule, the interrelationship among herself, Antipater, Alexander, and the Greeks was still very much undefined; there had not yet been sufficient occasion for action to give shape the structure of authority in Greece. Once Antipater had exercised his power in the war with Agis, and Alexander was planning to remove himself from immediate participation in Greek affairs, Olympias’ position in Pella became limiting, and so she moved to Epirus. Here she seems to have worked to project authority as, at once, Alexander’s mother, a representative of the Macedonian hegemony, and a head of the Epirote state.

The ad hoc structure of the Macedonian hegemony is also revealed through Antipater’s actions. When he invoked authority it was not his own, and when doing so was inconvenient he was content with power. He seems to have eschewed the Common Peace as a foundation for hegemony during the war with Agis, relying more on his own army and hired mercenaries than on the unlikely prospect of widespread allied support. He referred the settlement after Megalopolis to Alexander and the συνέδριον of the Common Peace, but his doing so presented him as Alexander’s arm, the site of Macedonian power in Greece, rather than Alexander’s voice, an agent of Macedonian authority. And his relationship with Alexander further undermined whatever authority he might have enjoyed as στρατηγός in Europe. The demands Alexander’s Asian war placed on Macedonian manpower hindered Antipater’s efforts to dominate the Greeks; the general’s successful exercise of military power in the Peloponnese may have shown too much independence for Alexander’s liking; and Antipater’s efforts to forestall any further resistance to his power in Europe flew in the face of Alexander’s proclamation that tyranny was ended and that the Greeks were now free. After the king marched east, we find Antipater negotiating with the Aetolians in the interests of his own security, in explicit contradiction to Alexander’s expressed hostility toward Aetolia because of Oeniadae.

Despite the conflicts and competition between Antipater and Olympias, it would be wrong to say that Antipater was in a state of “rebellion” from Alexander’s rule. At least, it would be meaningless to say so in the middle of 324 bc. “Rebellion” would imply, first, that there was some possibility of real (as opposed to rhetorical) conflict between Alexander and Antipater, and there no evidence of this.367 Second, it would imply that Antipater had something to gain by rejecting his place in the larger context of Alexander’s Macedonian domain. We cannot imagine that he did. He, Olympias, and Alexander, regardless of their intramural competition, had roughly the same interest in keeping Greece peaceful, if not submissive. Alexander’s charismatic authority, his reputation as the omnipotent conqueror of Asia, and his vast, if distant, military potential helped maintain the security of European Macedonia, as we see in the Athenians’ panic upon the arrival of Harpalus’ fleet.

But even without supposing pernicious plots, we can understand Olympias’ and Antipater’s conflicting demands for Harpalus. This man, a long-time officer and companion of Alexander, had deserted his post, pillaged the treasury, and arrived in Greece with an army and the means to pay them. His actions undermined the Macedonian hegemony both in Asia and in Europe, and his presence in Greece was a direct threat to the stability of Antipater’s and Olympias’ positions at a time when (because of Alexander’s decrees) those positions were already increasingly unstable. Securing Harpalus from the Athenians would not only have secured this dangerous presence, but would also have asserted Macedonian authority over the long-reluctant and increasingly indifferent Athenians. This in turn would validate the idea of a Macedonian hegemony. Harpalus was also a prize worth competing for, a generally useful trophy, the more so because he had brought with him a vast sum of money. Whoever got Harpalus could either earn Alexander’s gratitude by returning him, or keep his money for other uses. The relationship between Antipater and Olympias, which was largely forced on them by the absence of any institutional definition or precedent, may have led them to vie for Harpalus without any specific plans; in other words, even though we cannot recover any specific intentions Antipater or Olympias may have harbored regarding Harpalus, their conflicting, competing claims are fully explicable in the context of their respective places in a nominally Macedonian structure.

A request from Olympiaswhom some have seen as the least likely of the three to have sent an embassy to Athens on this occasion368is particularly appropriate, given what we have seen of her earlier actions. She, more than Antipater, was successful in defining herself as an authorized representative of Alexander, but such a definition could only stand if constantly reinforced. She did not command coercive power and, after 330, was away from the traditional locus of Macedonian authority. With Alexander so far removed from affairs in Greece, she was also less able to take advantage of her association with him. In other words, she had to rely heavily on symbols of authority, although we also know that when practical power came her way she readily used it. The bodyguard she maintained, for example, was symbolic of position and the potential for coercive power (Curt. 1.7.37-40). And her later presence at the head of an army during the wars of succession show that she was by no means limited to the symbolic (Diod. 19.11.2; 19.35.3).369 Harpalus could offer both sorts of advantage, both as a token of her ability to exert authority over the Greeks and, if she could secure either his money or his mercenaries or both, as a source of real power. In the uncertainty of early 324 bc, either of these possible benefits could explain an embassy from Olympias to the Athenians.

Philoxenus’ position in Asia and general absence from the political dynamics of Europe make him, for our purposes, the least significant of the three. Nevertheless, we can offer some possible explanations for his embassy to Athens.370 First of all, he may have been acting on a direct order from Alexander. He is the only one of the three for whom this can be said, since his position on the Carian coast was considerably closer (if not actually close) to Alexander than were Pella or Epirus. His being a specifically authorized agent of Alexander does not, however, seem likely, since Demosthenes seems to have doubted that Philoxenus spoke with Alexander’s voice (Hyp. In Dem. 8). And Philoxenus could have had ample motivation of his own for seeking Harpalus. First of all, he was a satrapPolyaenus uses the term ὕπαρχος , which is the Greek translation of the Persian office (Strat. 6.49).371 Since Alexander’s purges and the Mercenaries Decree of late 325, his surviving officers in Asia will no doubt have been motivated to at least seem diligent in their service, and Philoxenus seems to have been particularly active. Pausanias (2.33.4) says that after Harpalus’ escape from Athens, Philoxenus chased him and his men all over the Aegean, finally seizing Harpalus’ paymaster (διοικητής ) at Rhodes. Arrian reports Philoxenus meeting Alexander at Babylon in 323, στρατίαν ἄγων ἀπὸ Καρίας, “leading an army from Caria” (7.23.1). With many former officials in Alexander’s Asian empire dead or in disgrace, Philoxenus may have been taking every opportunity to advance himself. Harpaluswho had taken Philoxenus’ position in 333 (Arr. 3.6.7)372would have been an impressive trophy of service and competence had the general of Caria secured him from the Athenians.

The three Macedonians who sought Harpalus stood to profit from him. Custody of Harpalus would have conferred a symbolic and practical advantage on whoever acquired it, and would have removed his destabilizing presence from participation in affairs between Greeks and Macedonians. Olympias, Antipater, and Philoxenus must all have been interested in the stability of Macedonia’s hegemony over the Greeks, and so all three sent envoys bearing their authority to the Athenians. But authority is as much given as expressed, and we should turn now to a reexamination of the debate at Athens and the eventual rejection of the Macedonian demands.

· The Harpalus Affair: the Debate and Decision at Athens ·

It is clear that the Athenian decision to hold Harpalus rather than to surrender him to the Macedonians cannot be explained simply as a provocatively anti-Macedonian stance. According to the orator Hyperides, Demosthenes won the day with this argument (Hyp. In Dem. 8): [Demosthenes was] saying that the city would do well not to surrender Harpalus to those from Philoxenus, nor would any blame from Alexander need befall the δῆμος on account of that man. φάσκων οὔτε τοῖς παρὰ Φιλοξένου ἐλθοῦσι καλῶς ἔχειν τὸν Ἅρπαλον ἐγδοῦναι τὴν πόλιν οὔτε δεῖν αἰτίαν οὐδεμίαν τῷ δήμῳ di*) ἐκεῖνον par*) Ἀλεξάνδρου καταλείπεσθαι.

This is not an argument for defying Macedonia, but for seeking the city’s advantage without incurring Alexander’s anger. Dinarchus’ speech against Demosthenes goes back and forth between accusing him of stealing from Alexander (In Dem. 68-69, 89) and accusing him of stealing from Athens (15). Clearly there was, among Athenians, a certain fear of Alexander and a willingness to delay taking overt action toward Macedonia, but at the same time a willingness to defy Olympias, Antipater, and Philoxenus for the city’s good. When we look at each Macedonian, however, we can see that Athens’ caution toward Alexander and refusal to surrender his treasurer to these embassies were not incompatible.373

It is not difficult to explain why the Athenians rejected Antipater’s claim, now that we have seen the historical background to the Harpalus Affair. The Athenians, while clearly worried about Alexander’s power, do not seem to have considered Antipater as great a threat. In 331, in the debate over whether to join in a war against Antipater’s army, an Athenian orator was able to say, “should [Athens] decide to use force against its misfortune it could easily destroy its enemies” (ὡς τῷ συμφέροντί γε προελομένην χρῆσθαι κρατεῖν ἂν τῶν πολεμίων ῥᾳδίως δυνηθεῖσαν ) (Dem. 17.24).374 In 323, as soon as Alexander was dead, the Athenians launched a war against the Macedonian in the north, and almost won (Diod. 18.12.1, 18.14.4-5; Plut. Eum. 3).375 On the other hand, Antipater’s power was by no means negligible and would only have been increased by the receipt of Harpalus’ treasure.

None of these considerations would have had bearing on Athens’ decision, however, if Antipater were seen as an authority of a Macedonian hegemonic structure with Alexander at its head and Alexander’s army as its eastern arm. But the course of events since 335 may have suggested to the Athenians that this was not the case, that they could ignore his efforts to assert his authority in the city’s affairs. Antipaterand Olympias and Philoxenus for that matterhad no institutional authority to demand Harpalus. The treasurer’s embezzlement and flight was a Macedonian affair, and his arrival in Athens was an Athenian affair, but his presence in the city as a suppliant cannot be seen as formally obliging the Athenians toward the Macedonians.376 Not that it would have mattered, for Antipater had, as we have seen, refrained from imposing any formal obligations on the Athenians, even when the Common Peace would have justified doing so. But most important of all is the gulf between Antipater and Alexander that is most apparent in the years 330-324, as Alexander’s words repeatedly contradicted the actions Antipater took on behalf of Macedonia. We have seen this in the settlement after Megalopolis and in Antipater’s negotiations with Aetolia. The Greeks seem to have been aware of this gulf, to have taken advantage of it, and perhaps, even, to have widened it. When Alexander returned from the east he received embassies from Greeks who complained about Antipater, seeking to improve their lot by invoking Alexander’s authority against that of his general (Plut. Alex. 74.2; Justin 12.14.4; cf. Diod. 18.56).377 If the competition between Antipater and Olympias was at all as antagonistic and well-known as our sources suggest, this would have further separated Antipater from the king.

Antipater was not authorized by virtue of his position, his actions, or his relationship to Alexander. His demand for Harpalus did not stand on an unexpressed but persuasive argument. Nor did a sufficient potential for coercive force lurk silently behind his request. All these elements would have been necessary for his words to have been received at Athens as an authoritative command, but all were absent. We can see then that the Athenians had no reason to surrender Harpalus to Antipater. Furthermore, since they were concerned about Alexander’s reaction to their decision, they would have had good reason not to give the treasurer over to a man whose relationship with the king was unclear, at best, and at worst potentially inimical.

Olympias did not suffer the same disadvantages as Antipater. A request from her might well have carried a measure of Alexander’s authority, and we have seen more precedents for her acting as an official in Greek affairsthe grain from Cyrene, for example, and her injunction against Athenian involvement in the temple at Dodona (Hyp. Pro Eux. col. 19). But while this temple was clearly in her purview, Harpalus was not. Nor was she herself speaking from a potent, authorized position in Greece. Epirus was not Pella, after all, and while she may have acted as a head of state there, this did not necessarily translate into authority as a principal figure in a larger Macedonian structure. Her separation from Antipater, while to her immediate benefit, will also have undermined the idea of a unified “Macedonia” that could act in Greece. The Athenians did not want to anger Alexander, but surrendering Harpalus to his mother, in north-western Greece, cannot have seemed equivalent to sending him back to Asia. Finally, the presence of an embassy from Philoxenus, who was in Asia and closest to the king, may have made Olympias’ claim even less compelling.

We actually have an account of the reasons Demosthenes put forth for rejecting the order from Philoxenus. While it is neither full nor detailed, it can suggest how the Athenians could hope to reject his claim without incurring Alexander’s anger. According to Hyperides, Demosthenes urged the assembly to keep Harpalus rather than surrender him to “those from Philoxenus”; furthermore, Demosthenes claimed that “no blame from Alexander need befall the δῆμος on account of that man.” (οὔτε δεῖν αἰτίαν οὐδεμίαν τῷ δήμῳ di*) ἐκεῖνον par*) Ἀλεξάνδρου καταλείπεσθαι ) (Hyp. In Dem. 8). For our purposes, the prepositional phrase di*) ἐκεῖνον , “on account of that man”, is most interesting. διά with an accusative of person implies agency (cf. And. De Myst. 144; Dem. De Cor. 18.9; De Fals. Leg. 97.1), and so we might understand this quotation to say that Athens would suffer no blame from Alexander for rejecting Philoxenus’ demand, because Philoxenus would not tell. Philoxenus is said to have been a ὕπαρχος , a satrap, in Caria (Polyaen. Strat. 6.49). Alexander had demonstrated his suspicion of these officials, as a class, in the winter of 325/4 (Diod. 17.106.3, 17.111.1-2; Curt. 10.1.45), and there is evidence that several satraps were hostile to the king in 324: Hyperides mentions “the satraps, who would willingly join forces with us, bringing their money and as many soldiers and they have” (τοὺς δὲ ς?[ατράπας,] οἳ αὐτοὶ ἂν ἧκο?[ν] ἑκόντες πρὸς ταύτη?[ν τὴν] δύναμιν, ἔχοντες τὰ χρήματα καὶ τοὺ[ς?] στρατιώτας ὅσους ἕκ?[α]στος αὐτῶν εἶχεν ) (Hyp. in Dem. 19). It does not matter that Philoxenus is shown, by his later actions, to have been active in Alexander’s service. Demosthenes, who wanted to keep Harpalus in Athens, could have hoped to portray Philoxenus as yet another satrap interested in increasing his personal power. The orator may even have thought so himself, and we should not expect the Athenian ἐκκλησία to have had a deep familiarity with Alexander’s Asian bureaucracy. In any case, many of the satraps of Asia had shown themselves, during Alexander’s absence, to have been more interested in establishing their fiefdoms than in maintaining the coherence of Alexander’s empire. Philoxenus was a satrap, and in the absence of some unequivocal token of his authority as a representative of Alexander, the Athenians had no reason to treat him as such. Ignoring Philoxenus’ demand was safe, for if he should prove not to represent Alexander, the city would have avoided the anger of the king, and should he prove otherwise, the Athenians could always claim that they had merely shown an excess of caution for Alexander’s interests.

Apart from assertions of authority carried to Athens by emissaries, none of these Macedonians had any other means of securing Harpalus. We hear of no negotiations between Athenians and Macedonians on the subject of Harpalus. Demosthenes may have discussed Harpalus with Alexander’s envoy Nicanor at the Olympic festival in August, shortly after Harpalus had been detained, but Nicanor had left Alexander’s presence months earlier, and could no more be said to have carried the king’s opinion on Harpalus than any of the other three we have discussed.378 Nor does it seem that the Macedonians tried to coerce Athens into releasing the treasurer. There is some evidence seeming to suggest that Alexander planned an invasion of Greece from across the Aegean.379 The satyric play Agēn, performed in late 325 for Alexander, contained mention of an intended invasion (Athen. 13.595d-596b).380 A Samian, Gorgos of Iasus, is said to have offered Alexander siege-engines and other weapons for an invasion of Athens (Athen. 12.538b).381 Curtius mentions such plans in connection with the affair of Harpalus and Athenian resistance to the Exiles’ Decree: “Having learned of these events, the king, angry both at Harpalus and at the Athenians, ordered that a fleet be prepared at once, with an eye toward Athens” (his cognitis rex Harpalo Atheniensibusque iuxta infestus classem parari iubet Athenas protinus petiturus) (10.2.2). Justin reports similarly, saying that when Alexander heard of unrest among the Greeks, “He ordered that 1000 warships be commandeered from the allies, with which to wage war in the West, and that an invasion be made with overwhelming force for the destruction of Athens” (mille naves longas sociis imperari praeceperat, quibus in Occidente bellum gereret, excursurusque cum valida manu fuerat ad Athenas delendas) (13.5.3). But this evidence, if we believe it, shows only talk of plans for preparations for an invasion of Athens. There is absolutely no evidence that any such preparations ever took place. Athens was never invaded; there were no great sea-battles in 324, or even in 323 when Macedonians and Greeks were openly at war. It seems that Alexander did have a large fleet prepared, but it was based at Babylon, with no access to the Mediterranean (Arr. 7.19.3-7.22.5).382 Nor is it clear that such a fleet could have been prepared and launched from the coast of Asia Minor. The fact that Leosthenes had brought his mercenaries across the sea, and Harpalus had brought his, in both cases without apparent molestation, suggests that Alexander’s presence was not strongly felt on the Aegean coast. The Athenians must have realized this, too, once Harpalus’ fleet proved not to be an invasion.

No one of the three Macedonians could successfully assert authority at Athens, nor (evidently) offer a persuasive argument, attractive exchange, or convincing threat. We do not have to imagine that the Athenians were on the brink of immediate war with Alexander, although they were certainly arming themselves against the eventuality.383 On the contrary, the debate at Athens and the eventual decision to hold Harpalus shows the extent to which the Macedonian presence in Greece was divorced from Alexander’s authority. Each of these three Macedonians suffered a failure of authority because of the absence of any meaningful and effective Macedonian structure in Greece. In the case of Antipater and Olympias, their lack of precedented and defined offices or titles had forced them to act autonomously too often for them to claim authority within a hegemonic framework. In the case of Philoxenus, his office itself may have undermined his authority, since the satraps of Alexander’s provinces in Asia had undermined that structure, or at least, Alexander’s own actions of 324/5 suggested that they had. And among the parts of this divided and incoherent Macedonian presence none seems to have had the power to act, beyond dispatching embassies with empty orders.

· After Harpalus: the Promulgation of the Exiles Decree ·

We have only seen the immediate results of Athens’ rejection of Macedonian demands for Harpalus. That nothing happened immediately is not necessarily significantAntipater had, after all, taken several months to prepare for his war with Agis. But as R. Sealey has noted, there is no evidence to suggest that Athens suffered any long-term sanction because of the Harpalus Affair: “It is important to recognize that the protracted conflicts in Athens after the escape of Harpalus were strictly internal; the Athenians were not required to refund the money of Harpalus by Alexander or by anyone professing to act for him.” 384 Harpalus escaped and was killed in Crete, and the Athenians pointed fingers at each other over what they had done and what they should have done differently. At the same time, we can see that as late as the next spring, 323 BC, the Athenians continued to fear the consequences of having lost Alexander’s treasurer; during his speech against Demosthenes, Dinarchus asked the defendant, rhetorically, what he would recommend should Alexander demand his money: “Would you propose that we fight a war, since we so successfully managed our previous wars?” (γρά[ψ]εις σὺ Δημόσθενες πολεμεῖν ἡμᾶς, ἐπειδὴ καὶ τοὺς πρότερον πολέμους καλῶς διῴκησας; ) (In Dem. 68-69). The continued nervousness at Athens over Alexander’s response to the Harpalus Affair and the continued failure of any such response to be forthcoming cries for an explanation, which in turn will suggest the importance of Harpalus and the Macedonian embassies for our understanding of the Macedonian hegemony.

While Harpalus was still at Athens, at the beginning of August 324 bc, Nicanor promulgated the Exiles Decree at Olympia (Diod. 18.8.2).385 Alexander had first made known his intentions regarding the exiles early in that year, and had probably dispatched Nicanor in February.386 The decree that Nicanor carried, then, was written under circumstances that had changed dramatically by the time it was read, five months later. The Athenians and Aetolians were by then discussing an alliance, Leosthenes had convened the makings, at least, of a mercenary army at Taenarum, and most importantly, the Athenians had rejected three demands for Harpalus’ extradition. We must read the text of the decree in this context. Diodorus preserves the letter from Alexander to the exiles (18.8.4): King Alexander to the exiles from the Greek states. We have not been the cause of your exile, but we will be the cause of your return, each to his own homeland (except for those under a curse). We have written to Antipater about these things, so that he might compel those states not wishing to restore you. Βασιλεὺς Ἀλέξανδρος τοῖς ἐκ τῶν Ἐλληνίδων πόλεων φυγάσι. τοῦ μὲν φεύγειν ὑμᾶς οὐχ ἡμεῖς αἴτιοι γεγόναμεν, τοῦ δὲ κατελθεῖν εἰς τὰς ἰδίας πατρίδας ἡμεῖς ἐσόμεθα πλὴν τῶν ἐναγῶν. γεγράφαμεν δὲ Ἀντιπάτρῳ περὶ τούτων, ὅπως τὰς μὴ βουλομένας τῶν πόλεων κατάγειν ἀναγκάσῃ.

This epistle has been widely accepted as authentic; its presence in Diodorus’ narrative may be attributed to some pro-Samian source, perhaps Duris of Samos, who would have been understandably interested in the Exiles Decree.387 The letter’s content is largely affirmed, and nowhere contradicted, by an inscription from Delphi regarding the exiles of Tegea, which outlines the details of a διάγραμμα from Alexander.388 The text of Alexander’s letter is revealing. The wording of the letter Nicanor read shows how this decree could have sown division in the Greek states and given the exiles an investment in Alexander’s rule, thus reducing the manpower available to a rebellious state or would-be condottiere.389 These may have been achievable aims in early 324, after the Mercenaries Decree had exacerbated the problem of exiles. But in the summer of 324 this decree can only have harmed Macedonian authority over the Greek states.

The edict itself was not even addressed to the representatives of πόλεις who gathered for the Olympic festival, but to the exiles themselves. It did not, then, represent an act of diplomacy as much as one of demagoguery. Alexander’s decree had no basis other than Antipater’s (ostensible) ability to “force” (ἀναγκάσῃ ) unwilling cities to obey (Diod. 18.8.4). In other words, to whatever extent the Exiles Decree was meant to effect the change it mandated, it depended on compulsion rather than authority. Historians in this century have, however, spent considerable energy defending Alexander’s decree as “legal”, or “constitutional”. E. Bickerman, for example, tries to read the decree as right and proper according to the Common Peace: Il semble, en effet, qu’ Alexandre, prescrivant à Antipatros de faire rentrer les exilés, ait pu invoquer une clause du pacte fédéral, conçue en ces termes: ‘les synèdres et les préposés à la sûreté commune doivent veiller à ce que les condamnations à mort et au bannissement ne soient pas prononcées, en violation des lois en vigueur, dans les cités qui participent à la paix générale (Dem. 17.15)’ Si, par négligence des ‘préposés à la sûreté’, qui sont des commissaires royaux, des bannissements injustifiés étaient prononcés, Alexandre aurait le droit ou mēme l’obligation d’intervenir.390

The Exiles Decree, however, was not addressed to the member-states of the Common Peace but to the exiles from “Greek cities” generally (τοῖς ἐκ τῶν Ἐλληνίδων πόλεων φυγάσι ) (Diod. 18.8.4). A.W. Pickard-Cambridge stated in 1914 that the Exiles Decree was in fact a violation of the Common Peace, but it might be more accurate to say that the Exiles Decree had nothing whatever to do with it.391 N.G.L. Hammond and H. Walbank recognize this and try to explain it in such a way as to maintain Alexander’s “legality”: “The announcement was not an ‘order’, as hostile critics suggested (e.g. Hyp. In Dem. 18, ἐπιτάγματα) but the starting-point for a dialogue, during which envoys were sent to Alexander, for instance at Babylon.” 392 Alexander’s threatto have Antipater force the Exiles Decree on the unwillingseems more appropriate to an order than an invitation to dialogue.

The Exiles Decree was a bald-faced command from Alexander to the Greeks. If the συνέδριον of the Common Peace had anything to do with the decree, we do not hear of it. We have no evidence to show that Alexander was concerned with “constitutional niceties”, to use T.T.B. Ryder’s phrase.393 The immediate results of the announcement suggest that Alexander either did not care about enforcing his decree, or had not considered the specifics of its implementation.394 This command was received variously by the Greeks. But two of the most powerful states, the Aetolians and Athenians, reacted strongly (Diod. 18.8.6; Justin 13.5.1-6).395 The Exiles Decree represented, for the Aetolians, a renewal of Alexander’s vow to punish them for taking Oeniadae and expelling its inhabitants.396 The Athenians were concerned about their control of Samos.397 The two entered into negotiations “concerning an alliance” (περὶ συμμαχίας ) (Diod. 17.111.1-4; 18.8.1-7).398

The alliance between Athens and Aetolia is interesting for several reasons. First, it represents the first bloc of Greeks since the demise of Agis that clearly possessed a military potential sufficient to oppose Antipater. The Greeks had been relatively quiet since Antipater’s victory in 330, but with Alexander adding his interference to Antipater’s, and with Macedonian authority seeming less sound, we have increasing evidence that at least some Greeks were treating Macedonia not as an invincible master, but as a powerful but estimable enemy.399 Second, a possible alliance between Aetolia and Athens might further complicate our understanding of the relationship between Alexander, the Greeks, and Antipater. At some point between 330 and 325, Plutarch tells us, Antipater had “contacted the Aetolians in secret and exchanged guarantees” (πρὸς Αἰτωλοὺς ἔπεμψε κρύφα, πίστεις διδοὺς καὶ λαμβάνων ), in reaction to Alexander’s murders of Parmenio and others (Plut. Alex. 49. 14-15); now, in 324, the Athenians were doing likewise. In both cases, the Aetolians’ concern was the same, to maintain possession of Oeniadae. It is possible that whatever understanding they had with Antipater fell by the wayside in the aftermath of the Exiles Decree. It is also possible that the relationship survived the announcement at Olympia. We have also seen evidence, albeit scant, that the Athenians may have preferred Antipater to Alexander: Plutarch claims that the Athenians were initially inclined to surrender Harpalus to Antipater, not to Alexander, before Demosthenes dissuaded them (Mor. 846b [Vit. X Or.]). At the very least, the evidence for alliances among the Athenians, Aetolians, and Antipater shows how Alexander’s actions repeatedly shook the order of Macedonian power in Greece: his executions of lieutenants in 330 led Antipater to negotiate with Aetolia, and his Exiles Decree let Aetolia and Athens to form a dangerous (to Macedonia) alliance.

The letter that Nicanor read at Olympia might have itself seemed to separate the king’s policies from those of his στρατηγός in Europe. The decree makes it clear that “we” (meaning Alexander) were not to blame for these exiles’ plight. While it is true that the people immediately to blame were those empowered in individual cities, it is also true that many of the exiles must have been expelled when Antipater set in place governments friendly to him; we should note that Polyperchon would issue a decree restoring to their cities all those who had been exiled “by our generals” (ὑπὸ τῶν ἡμετέρων στρατηγῶν ) (Diod. 18.56).400 It may be, as Badian suggests, that what seems to be Alexander’s apology to the exiles for Antipater’s behavior was “mere propaganda”, or it may as Mendels suggests, “that Alexander in saying this wanted to place the blame squarely and directly on his viceroy.” 401 Whether or not he intended to would not change the effect of the διάγραμμα, and that might have been to undermine further the perceived unity, and therefore authority, of the Macedonian hegemony.

More important, and for our purposes more useful, is the ostensible role of Antipater in effecting the return of the exiles. We do not know what Alexander’s instructions to the general were, since the phrase γεγράφαμεν δὲ Ἀντιπάτρῳ here, “we have written to Antipater”, indicates a correspondence different in extent and detail from the Decree read at Olympia.402 But the public document clearly burdens Antipater with the task of enforcing the decree while not giving him any further authority or suggesting that he had a share in its authorship; the decree makes clear that this edict is Alexander’s alone.403 Antipater would have been the logical choice to enforce the decree, except that the decree was unenforceable. Antipater’s garrisons and puppet governments in Greece had been necessary to avoid open confrontation such as with Agis in 331/0, and in 323 he would have to be rescued by Macedonian forces from Asia.404 Forcing compliance on the Aetolians and Athenians would have involved a much greater commitment than a single battle, for to assure the restoration of exiles and the restoration of property would probably require not only successful battles, but occupation forces in several cities. It must have been clear in Greece that Antipater could not oblige Alexander in this matter, and by claiming that he would, Alexander illustrated how powerless was the Macedonian presence in Greece. Nicanor was, in effect, equivalent to another embassy seeking Harpalushe represents a failed attempt at authoritative speech without the possibility of coercion. All that remained was persuasion and negotiation, in which Alexander engaged with the envoys that made their way to him later that year (Diod. 17.113.3-4; Arr. 7.19.1; 7.23.2).405

One final, ironic aspect of the Exiles Decree is worth mentioning here, namely Tegea’s response, which is recorded on Syll.3 306. The Tegeans reinstated their exiles, who in this case were the men responsible for organizing their city’s revolt, with the Spartans, in 331 BC By the latter half of 324 we have a political and social context in which the Macedonians have either asserted an authority that proved lacking, or failed to act at all. Leosthenes built up an unemployed army in Greece, and was not prevented from doing so. When three different Macedonians demanded Harpalus the Athenians ignored them all. Alexander’s Exiles Decree claimed coercive force that never materialized. This decree also highlighted cracks in the Macedonian monolith and inspired Aetolia and Athens to seek an alliance against the Macedonian hegemons. But it is in this context that many of the Greek states accorded Alexander divine honors, although interpretation of the evidence and significance of the “divinity question” 406

The Exiles Decree finished what the arrival of Harpalus started; it further exposed the impotence of the Macedonian “hegemony” in 324. The Athenians’ refusal to surrender Harpalus can be explained by the lack of a valid structure in which Antipater, Olympias, and Philoxenus might have defined themselves as bearers of an authority greater than that which they could claim individually. The Exiles Decree reinforced this lack. Alexander’s letter could be seen to blame Antipater for the Greeks’ troubles, but although Antipater was responsible for the exile of many Greeks, Alexander had needed his στρατηγός to dominate Greece, and had himself contributed to the condition of these unemployed and stateless men by ordering the satraps’ armies disbanded.407 With his decree, Alexander heightened the Aetolians’ fears regarding Oeniadae, which fears Antipater seems to have worked earlier to soothe (albeit in his own interest). In doing so, the decree brought Aetolia and Athens toward an alliance that would directly threaten Macedonia’s military preeminence in Greece. It also undid some of the work of Antipater’s victory at Megalopolis, by reintroducing to Tegea the leaders of its anti-Macedonian revolt. While doing so much to destabilize Greecewhich may have been at least partially intendedAlexander’s decree also undermined Macedonian authority with its empty threat to have Antipater force the states to comply. And all of these effects will have, in turn, highlighted the distance between the king and the Macedonians and Greeks in Europe.

It remains to explain why there was no war in 324 BC, when so much had happened to shatter the image of a Macedonian hegemony that could and would maintain itself at the head of a peaceful Greece. If the Athenians were arming themselves and allied with Aetolia, and Antipater was persistently inactive in Greek affairs, why do we find Hyperides in the spring of 323 mentioning the idea of war with the Macedonians as though it were a ridiculous idea? A final redefinition of authority and a final critical episode suggest an answer, and will complete our inquiry into the dynamics of power and authority in the Macedonian hegemony of Greece. The former “event” is Alexander’s deification, and the latter is Craterus’ march westward, toward the Hellespont and Antipater.

· Alexander’s Divinity ·

By the latter half of 324 we have a political and social context in which the Macedonians have either asserted an authority that proved lacking, or failed to act at all. Leosthenes built up an unemployed army in Greece, and was not prevented from doing so. When three different Macedonians demanded Harpalus the Athenians ignored them all. Alexander’s Exiles Decree claimed coercive force that never materialized. This decree also highlighted cracks in the Macedonian monolith and inspired Aetolia and Athens to seek an alliance against the Macedonian hegemons. But it is in this context that many of the Greek states accorded Alexander divine honors, although interpretation of the evidence and significance of the “divinity question” has long been controversial.408

An abundance of ancient evidence bears on Alexander’s deification, although much of it is epigrammatic. Aelian reports that Alexander asked for deification (Ἀλέξανδρος ἐπέστειλε τοῖς Ἕλλησι θεὸν αὐτὸν ψηφίσασθαι ), whereupon Damis the Spartan said, “If Alexander wishes to be a god, let him be a god” (Ἀλέξανδρος βούλετει θεὸς εἶναι, ἔστω θεός ) (Ael., Var. Hist. 2.19); Plutarch echoes this story, reporting that when the Athenians had voted to make Alexander a god Pytheas exclaimed, “But Alexander, whom you have voted a god, is younger than me” (καὶ μὴν Ἀλέξανδρος εἶπεν ἐμοῦ νεώτερός ἐστιν, ὃν ψηφίζεσθε θεὸν εἶναι ) (Plut. Mor.. 804b [Praec. Ger. Res Pub.]). Lycurgus is reported as having said during debate on the subject, “What sort of god would this be, when you would have to purify yourself upon leaving his temple?” (πάλιν δὲ θεὸν ἀναγορευόντων Ἀλέξανδρον Κ̓αὶ ποδαπὸς ἂν [2εἴη]2?̓ εἶπεν Ὀ῾ θεός, οὗ τὸ ἱερὸν ἐξιόντας δεήσει περιρραίνεσθαι; ) (Plut. Mor. 842d [Vit. X. Or.]). Timaeus, quoted by Polybius (12.12b.3) says that Demosthenes opposed granting divine honors to Alexander (διότι ταῖς Ἀλεξάνδρου τιμαῖς ταῖς ἰσοθέοις ἀντέλεγον ). Demades was fined 100 (according to Aelian, Var. Hist. 5.12) or 10 talents (according to Athen. 6.251b) for proposing that divine honors be granted Alexander; he defended himself by appealing to a cautious Realpolitik: “Take care lest, while you guard heaven, you lose the earth.” (videte ne, dum caelum custoditis, terram amittatis) (Val. Max. 7.2, ext. 13).409 Pausanias (8.32.1) mentions a house at Megalopolis dedicated to Alexander and containing a statue of Ammon, which Fredricksmeyr, following Habicht, is surely right to identify as a shrine.410

J.P.V.D. Balsdon’s 1950 article on Alexander’s divinity is the definitive critique of this evidence. His thesis is that the impulse to grant divine honors originated among the Greeks; Alexander did not request divinity. The contemporary evidence for Alexander’s deification is concentrated in the years 324-323 (Din. In Dem. 94; Hyp. In Dem. 31). This evidence makes no mention of any request from Alexander, only a debate at Athens. All references to Alexander’s requesting his own deification come from Aelian and the Plutarchan Moralia and can be traced to a single source, Callisthenes; this man concluded his account of Alexander’s life c. 330 bc, seems often to have been hostile toward Alexander, and may also reflect the private jokes current among the king’s entourage. Apart from this there is nothing to suggest that Alexander solicited divinity.411 Balsdon’s article touches many issues, and other scholars have offered refinements, clarifications, and corrections to specific points but without undermining the persuasiveness of his central argument.412

We are interested in seeing how Alexander’s divinity might illuminate the increasingly complex relationships between him, his fellow Macedonians, and the Greeks. Toward this end a few, less epigrammatic, anecdotes from the primary sources are particularly significant. The evidence given above is itself enough to show that Alexander received divine honors from the Greeks. The remaining evidence can help us reconcile this elevation of Alexander’s authority at a time when events increasingly undermined both the perceived power and the effective authority of the Macedonians in Greece. Arrian’s only reference to a new, divine status for Alexander is his note that in 323 some Greeks came to Asia to crown Alexander, “as though they were envoys to a god” (ὡς θεωροὶ δῆθεν ) (Arr. 7.23.2).413 At the same time, the first half of 323 BC, a fragmentary passage in Hyperides’ speech against Demosthenes says that “[someone] wished… to set up a statue of Alexander, king and invincible god… ” (. . . ἐβούλετ[ο . . . ] στῆσαι εἰκό[να Ἀλεξάν]δρου βασιλ[έως τοῦ ἀνι]κήτου θε[οῦ ) (In Dem. 32). This latter probably refers to a desire expressed in a public debate at Athens regarding the awarding of divine honors to Alexander. Both Hyperides and Dinarchus mention opinions offered by Demosthenes before the δῆμος. Hyperides says that his opponent was “then conceding before the assembly that Alexander could be the son of Zeus and of Poseidon too if he wished” (to/t*) ἐν τῷ δήμωι συγχωρῶν Ἀλεξάνδρῳ καὶ τοῦ Διὸς καὶ τοῦ Ποσειδῶνος εἶ[ναι εἰ βούλ]οιτο ) (Hyp. In Dem. 31). Dinarchus has Demosthenes suggesting legislation on the subject, “first threatening prosecution for the recognition of any god other than the traditional ones, then saying that the people had no right to dispute the honors in heaven for Alexander” (καὶ τοτὲ μὲν γράφων καὶ ἀπαγορεύων μηδένα νομίζειν ἄλλον θεὸν τοὺς παραδεδομένους, τοτὲ δὲ λέγων ὡς οὐ δεῖ τὸν δῆμον ἀμφισβητεῖν τῶν ἐν οὐρανῷ τιμῶν Ἀλεξάνδρω ) (Din. In Dem. 94).414

A public debate in the Athenian ἐκκλησία on whether or not to honor Alexander as a god will not only have confirmed Alexander in his authority, regardless of the immediate and practical outcome, but will have elevated his authority above anything he may have enjoyed before. We would be mistaken to dismiss the Greeks’ consideration of such honors as merely a cynical political exercise.415 Even if we agree with Balsdon that motions to grant such honors to the king represent his supporters’ efforts to “ingratiate themselves to him, to compromise their opponents,” we must conclude that such motions had a very real effect on the relationship between the Greeks and Alexander.416 Only by increasing the king’s authority in the eyes of the Greeks could such motions have “compromised” his opponents. Furthermore, Hyperides and Dinarchus nowhere suggest that the debate at Athens was itself insincere; they criticize only Demosthenes’ prevarication on the subject. Both orators freely condemn their opponent for advancing pro-Alexander policies (Hyp. In Dem. 15.6-23.25; Din In Dem. 28-40, 64-71); Dinarchus seems to play on the Athenians’ fear of Alexander (68-69); and Hyperides speaks openly about the possibility of war against the Macedonians (35-36). But neither says one word against the granting of divine honors to Alexander.

Taken together the evidence from Arrian and the orators further illustrates, and also helps to explain, the seemingly inconsistent attitudes of the Greeks toward Alexander and the Macedonian hegemony. The Athenians could revere Alexander while continuing to resist his orders; they could debate, in all sincerity, his divine honors while arming themselves against the Macedonian hegemony. From a historian’s point of view, Alexander’s divine honors represent a pivotal moment in the course of events. By honoring the king as a divinity, the Greeks seem also to have elevated him out of his place in the immediate structure of Macedonian power. As a god, Alexander became extra-political. Events had already created a vast distance between the king and Antipater. The debate over Alexander’s divinity took this movement to a conclusion. Since 335 Alexander had been present in Greece only vicariously, but by 323 his presence is reduced to a name and a charisma, without any effective participation in events.

· Antipater, Craterus, and the End of Hegemony ·

Antipater did not consider Alexander to be divine.417 Throughout the events we have discussed, Antipater often seemed to act independently of Alexander, and occasionally in contradiction to Alexander’s expressed opinions. These occasions demonstrated how tenuous and poorly defined were both the basis of Macedonian power and the structure of Macedonian authority in Greece. Throughout the events of 324, however, it was still meaningful to speak of a Macedonian hegemony, a single political entity that included both Alexander and the Macedonians in Greece. Alexander seems to have assumed one in assuring the exiles that Antipater would enforce their restoration. Alexander’s deification, however, inflicted a fundamental change in the relationship between him and the Greeks, and in 323 we find another such change in the relationship between him and the στρατηγός Antipater.

In late 324 or early 323 Alexander dispatched Craterus with a force of 10,000 veterans toward Europe. Arrian says (7.12.4; cf. Diod. 18.4.1, 18.12.1; Justin 12.12.9): He ordered Craterus to lead these men and assume control of Macedonia, Thrace, and Thessaly and assure the freedom of the Greeks; he ordered Antipater to bring fresh Macedonian troops to replace those who had been released. Κρατερῷ δὲ τούτους τε ἄγειν ἐκέλευσε καὶ ἀπαγαγόντι Μακεδονίας τε καὶ Θρᾴκης καὶ Θετταλῶν ἐξηγεῖσθαι καὶ τῶν Ἑλλήνων τῆς ἐλευθερίας· Ἀντίπατρον δὲ διαδόχους τοῖς ἀποπεμπομένοις ἄγειν Μακεδόνας τῶν ἀκμαζόντων ἐκέλευσεν.

Craterus, however, did not pass into Europe, and in fact got no further than Cilicia by June of 323 when Alexander died (Diod. 18.4.1).418 Nor did Antipater make any move to gather an army of reinforcements and leave Greece to join Alexander. According to the ancient sources, Antipater feared that this summons was in fact Alexander’s effort to bring him to Asia and kill him (Curt. 10.10.15; Justin 12.14.3). They note Alexander’s distrust of his general and of his sons (Arr. 7.12.5; Plut. Alex. 74.1).419 It is not difficult to compare this summons to Alexander’s purge of the satraps in late 325, and it is even more compelling to recall the executions of Parmenio, Philotas, and Alexander of Lyncestis (see above, page 75).420 Antipater was no doubt well aware of how Alexander dealt with his lieutenants whom he deemed untrustworthy. These precedents, the evidence for Alexander’s suspicion, and Craterus’ failure to complete his mission have led historians to believe that Antipater finally rebelled against Alexander in 323.421 The sum of the evidence, including the background to this event that we have seen, raises problems with such an interpretation and suggests that “rebellion” will not suffice.

Scholars have raised several objections to idea that the events surrounding Craterus’ mission show Antipater to have been in rebellion. Worthington would dismiss the idea of any animosity between Alexander and Antipater based on the events of 324: “the king had confidently given Antipater carte blanche in his dealings with any Greek city that refused to receive back its exiles (Diod. 18.8.4), and according to Plut. Phoc. 17.10, after Alexander defeated Darius he dropped the salutation χαιρεῖν from all correspondence except that with Antipater and his ξένος Phocion.” 422 Neither of these points is particularly persuasive, though, and neither has any relevance to 323 BC. We have seen, first, that Alexander’s assumption that Antipater would enforce the Exiles Decree was unrealistic and, as such, worsened Antipater’s position in Greece. We should also note that Antipater took no steps that we hear of to restore any exiles; rather than evidence of trust, the Exiles Decree was another occasion for Antipater to act independently of Alexander’s will.

Others have pointed out that Diodorus, whose source for these events is Hieronymous of Cardia, seems to imply Cilicia as the final objective for Craterus, which would eliminate the question: Craterus stopped at Cilicia because that is where he was supposed to stop (Diod. 18.4.1, 18.12.1).423 Bosworth has shown, however, that Diodorus is not, in fact, implying this.424 Diodorus’ first note of Craterus’ mission mentions only Cilicia, but his second one combines the mission to Cilicia with his orders to bring the 10,000 veterans back to Macedonia. Furthermore, in both cases, Craterus was “sent in advance” (προεσταλμένος ); the historian uses this word twenty times, and “in every case it refers to a group or individuals sent as a forerunner of a greater enterprise.” 425 This enterprise, Bosworth suggests, was Alexander’s own arrival there. Having shown that Cilicia was not Craterus’ final destination, but a stop on the way to Greece, he goes on to argue that the general was to wait in Cilicia until “Antipater had left the Balkans with his new army of young Macedonian recruits.” 426 But this would involve having no Macedonian army at all in Greece for as long as it took Antipater to cross the Hellespont, for him send word to Craterus that he had done so, and for Craterus to march back from Cilicia to Macedonia. This would, of course, have been disastrous for Macedonian interests in Greece, and so we are left, again, looking for another way to explain why Craterus went no further than he did.

There is one other objection that is particularly interesting for our purposes and has to do with Antipater’s son, Cassander.427 Plutarch says that shortly before Alexander’s death, June 323, Cassander was “newly arrived” (ἀφῖκτο μὲν νεωστί ) at the king’s court (Plut. Alex. 74). Griffith has suggested that Antipater will hardly have sent his son to Alexander if there were as much suspicion and hostility between himself and the king as the sources suggest.428 Bosworth suggests, to the contrary, that Cassander must have been sent before Antipater knew of Craterus’ mission.429 This is probably true, given the distance both Cassander and Craterus had to travel. With so many tensions between Antipater and Alexander, on the other hand, Cassander’s mission still begs for an explanation.

During this same period, winter 324/3, Alexander sent a letter to Cleomenes, who had been mismanaging Egypt (Arr. 3.5.4, 7.23.7; [Arist.] Oec. 1352a.29; see above, page 111). The letter offered to overlook the man’s crimes in exchange for a lavish shrine in honor of Hephaestion. We have noted earlier that the letter shows Alexander to have had no effective authority over Cleomenes; the king was unable to command, and so resorted to negotiation. Cleomenes can no longer have been said to be a part of Alexander’s rule, but neither was he “in rebellion”. Egypt had slipped quietly into a new position, in Alexander’s sphere of influence, but no longer in his empire. We should see the mission of Craterus in a similar light. Rather than describing Antipater as being in “rebellion”a term that implies more positive action than we find in this casewe should see this event as the first practical expression of a relationship that had existed for some time already. Antipater had defined and redefined his place in a Macedonian structure throughout Alexander’s absence from Greece. As events progressed and the structure became increasingly tenuous, the general’s place became increasingly autonomous, and his actions focused more on his own security in Pella than on any larger goals set by Alexander. In the Harpalus Affair the Athenians had acknowledged this fact by failing to recognize Antipater as an agent of Alexander’s will. With the Exiles Decree Alexander presumed upon Antipater’s interest in a larger Macedonian empire, but the general could not, or at least did not, move to cooperate. He did send his son Cassander to Asia, however. We do not know much about Cassander’s mission, but Plutarch does say that he defended his father against accusations, whereupon Alexander battered the man’s head against a wall (Plut. Alex. 74.2-3). This anecdote may be too colorful to accept, but we might see Cassander in a similar light as the letter from Alexander to Cleomenes: by sending his son to speak with the king, Antipater was redefining his relationship with Alexander. He certainly seems to have done so by 323, when Craterus was marching toward Europe. Alexander’s order that Antipater come to Asia with an army, even if it did not represent an immediate threat to his life, would have forced Antipater to exchange a position that he had defined and secured for something unknown. We have seen that Antipater had little enough investment in Alexander’s “Macedonia” by the end of 324, when Macedonia had no more authority to invoke in Greece. When Craterus came, Antipater simply did nothing, and in doing nothing he denied that Alexander had authority over him. With Cassander we can see the possibility of negotiation, and with Craterus the threat of coercion, but neither effected anything. In June Alexander died, and the Greeks went to war with Antipater shortly thereafter. But the Macedonian hegemony in Greece had already ceased to exist.

· Conclusion ·

In the course of this examination we have seen how the Macedonians in Europe, Antipater and Olympias, had to define their own positions, acquire their own power, and assume whatever authority they could by their own actions. They operated in an unprecedented and only loosely defined structure, without the benefit of formal or traditional authority. Alexander was a participant in the hegemony of Greece, but only indirectly and often inconsistently. The institutional basis for hegemony, the Common Peace, was real and effective, but did not reliably serve the needs of Macedonian power; its terms were too easily invoked against Macedonian interference, and Antipater preferred to rely on his own resources rather than demand the support of his Greek “allies”. After 324 the gulf between Alexander and the Macedonians in Europe widened, weakening the structure of power that had kept an uneasy peace throughout most of his absence. The king’s actions exacerbated tensions in Greece, and his attempts at resolving those tensions were either poorly timed or assumed a level of efficacy and will that Antipater did not possess. When Harpalus fled his post in Asia and entered Athens, the Macedonian hegemony was forced to claim an authority it had never actually exercised before. In the absence of clearly defined roles, and in the service of conflicting (or at least competing) interests, three Macedonians issued demands for custody of the treasurer. The Athenians, who were interested in avoiding Alexander’s anger, acted as they had every reason to dothey refused to acknowledge any of the embassies as an authorized representative of the king’s will. We can see their decision as consistent with the developments of the previous ten years, during which the actions of the Macedonian hegemony had exposed its incoherence. The Athenians’ rejection of Macedonian envoys seeking Harpalus was critical because it put into effect a separation of Macedonian authority, represented by Alexander, from the authority of individual Macedonians. The Harpalus Affair exposed the Macedonian hegemony as impotent. Alexander’s letter containing the Exiles Decree confirmed this impotence by issuing a threat on behalf of Antipater that Antipater could not hope to have carried out. In the final year of Alexander’s life the failure of the hegemony became complete. Alexander’s personal charisma ascended to new heights, but without in any way reaffirming the position of Macedonia as leader of the Greeks. The collapse was completed with Antipater’s defiance of the order to march into Asia, and with Craterus’ failure to advance toward a possible confrontation.

At no time between 335 and 323 could the Greeks ever have matched the combined power of the Macedonians. It was this power that had allowed Philip to establish a Macedonian hegemony, in form and in fact, over the Greeks, and had allowed Alexander to assume it upon his father’s death. But what was in 336 a Macedonian hegemony quickly came to be something less, a hegemony of Macedonians. By the end of Alexander’s life neither term would have any meaning. Despite the power of Antipater’s and Alexander’s armies, and despite the charisma of the king himself, the Macedonians did not establish a coherent structure of authority in Greece. In the absence of definite authority, Macedonia and the Macedonians failed to manage a hegemony that could survive Alexander’s departure, his absence, and his return.

— Notes for section 8 —

Note 358

Worthington (1992) 41, cf. Jaschinski (1981) 27-28.

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Note 359

Worthington (1986), gives a full discussion of inscriptional and textual evidence for these ships. Also, Berve (1926) 138; Badian (1961) 31, 37 and n.161; Ashton (1983) 57 and n.46; Will (1983) 118.

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Note 360

Ashton (1983) 51; Badian (1961) 31 and n.106; Cloché (1957) 266-267; Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 452;Worthington (1986) 223.

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Note 361

Athen. 13.586b-d, 594d-596a; S. Jaschinski (1981) 7-18; Worthington (1992) 41.

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Note 362

Cf. K.J. Beloch (1923) 4.1 p. 58. For a (brief) discussion of the Athenian military build-up in the 330s and early 320s see above, page 106.

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Note 363

N.G. Ashton (1983) 47-63; P. Cloché (1957) 267; Worthington (1986) 223, cf. H. Berve (1926) 78; Worthington (1992) 49-50.

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Note 364

Cf. R. Sealey (1993) 214.

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Note 365

E. Badian (1961).

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Note 366

C.D. Adams (1901) 134-135; Also, H. Bengtson (1937) 127 n.5 contra: A. Schäfer (1887) 309 n.2; A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 452. Cf. H. Berve (1926) 390; H. Bengtson (1937) 390; E. Badian (1965) 168-169.

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Note 367

At least not in the summer of 324. Later that year Craterus would lead an army toward the Hellespont, with instructions to assume Antipater’s place while that man brought reinforcements to Alexander. For discussion of these events and their implications, see below, page 144.

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Note 368

For example, I. Worthington (1984a) 48.

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Note 369

Cf. E. Carney (1987a) 74; E. Carney (1994) 371, and above, page 99.

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Note 370

For Philoxenus generally: Cf. Berve (1926) 389-390; H. Bengtson (1937a); E. Badian (1965) 168-169.

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Note 371

Cf. H. Berve (1926) 390.

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Note 372

H. Berve (1926) 389-390; E. Badian (1965) 168-169.

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Note 373

Not many scholars have actually discussed the Athenians’ decision or the possible consequences had they decided differently. Of those who have, A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 453, argues that the Athenians were waiting to deliver Harpalus to Alexander personally, with no explanation of how that might happen. G. Colin (1925) 328 and (1934) 9, sees little significance in the multiplicity of requests beyond its forcing Athens to play favorites. W. Will (1983) 121, sees the requests as complementary and cumulative in their effect, rather than contradictory and competing. P. Green (1991) 252: sees the overlapping requests as conflicting and confusing to the Athenians. O. Schmitt (1992) 38, follows Pickard-Cambridge. R. Sealey (1993) 213, sees Antipater and Olympias as having acted together, but supposes that the Athenians feared the anger of Antipater if they gave Harpalus to Alexander.

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Note 374

Cf. Plut. Mor. 818e [Praec. Ger. Reipub.]; G.L. Cawkwell (1961); E. Badian (1967) 182.

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Note 375

See K.J. Beloch (1923) 4.1 p. 58; A.B. Bosworth (1971) 125; F. Mitchel (1973) 212.

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Note 376

G. Colin (1925) 328: “Peut-ētre voilait-il [Demosthenes] éviter à Athènes le déshonneur de livrer un suppliant et l’en nui de céder à des menaces.”

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Note 377

Cf. E. Badian (1961) 28 and n.87; J.R. Hamilton (1969) 91 ad Plut. Alex. 24.2; W.L.T. Adams (1984) 83-84; P. Green (1991) 298.

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Note 378

Diod. 17.109, 18.8.4; Curt. 10.2.4; Din. In Dem. 82; Hyp. In Dem.. 18; Justin 13.5.2. For the chronology of these events, see I. Worthington (1986a) 66-67; I. Worthington (1992) 50. For Demosthenes and Nicanor discussing Harpalus, cf. P. Green (1991) 252-253. For the date of the Olympic festival in 324, see R. Sealey (1960).

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Note 379

N.G. Ashton (1983) 54-56; cf. O. Schmitt (1992) 38-39.

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Note 380

For the date of the Agēn, see H. Lloyd-Jones (1966) 16-17; A. Lingua (1979) 35-36; B.M. Kingsley (1986) 168; I. Worthington (1986a) 64.

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Note 381

A.J. Heisserer (1980) 187-193.

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Note 382

A.B. Bosworth (1988) 168-169.

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Note 383

As suggested by, for example, N.G. Ashton (1983); A.B. Bosworth (1988) 149-150, 225.

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Note 384

R. Sealey (1993) 214.

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Note 385

R. Sealey (1960); R.M. Errington (1975) 53; S. Jaschinski (1981) 62-63 (but where his chronology touches on Harpalus it is untenable, see chapter II above, especially note 37).

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Note 386

See above, page 16.

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Note 387

See A. Heuss (1938) 135; E. Bikerman (1940) 25 and n.6; R.B. Kebric (1977) 74-76; N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 80; O. Schmitt (1992) 24 n.110, 33.

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Note 388

Syll. 3 306, esp. ll 1-3; E. Bikerman (1940) 30; A.J. Heisserer (1980) 205-229. We might also compare an earlier diagra/fa (the Aeolic equivalent to dia/gramma) by which Alexander restored exiles to Eresos on Lesbos in 334: IG XII, 2, 526; cf. Arr. 1.17.10-12, 2.1.4; A.J. Heisserer (1980) 27-78, especially his historical reconstruction at 58-78.

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Note 389

E. Bikerman (1940) 31. For the Exiles Decree mandating restoration of property and rights: Syll. 3 306 ll. 10, 57, 59. Cf. J.R. Hamilton (1969) 138. G. Dobesch (1975) 130, suggests that Alexander issued the Exiles Decree in lieu of a personal (and presumably armed) return to Europe; cf. Curt. 10.2.4; S. Jaschinski (1981) 66-67.

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Note 390

E. Bikerman (1940) 33.

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Note 391

A.W. Pickard-Cambridge (1914) 456.

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Note 392

N.G.L. Hammond and F.W. Walbank (1988) 80-81. Cf. N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 232-234.

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Note 393

T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 107-108.

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Note 394

R.M. Errington (1975) 54.

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Note 395

T.T.B. Ryder (1965) 109; D. Mendels (1984) 147; R. Sealey (1993) 126, 212-213.

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Note 396

See above, page 108.

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Note 397

Demosthenes was present at Olympia, as the Athenian ἀρχιθέωρος, when Nicanor made the announcement (Din. In Dem. 82, 103) - at this point, the Athenians had taken Harpalus into custody, and he had not yet escaped; I. Worthington (1992) 50. It is likely that Demosthenes discussed both Harpalus and the issue of Samos with Nicanor; cf. R.M. Errington (1975) 53; P. Green (1991) 252-253.

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Note 398

A.J. Heisserer (1980) 188-189.

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Note 399

Cf. F. Mitchel (1973) 211.

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Note 400

For the local causes of exile, cf. IG XII, 2, 526. For Antipater’s installing sympathetic governments, E. Badian (1961) 28 and n.87; G.L. Cawkwell (1969) 180 n.1; and see above, page 104.

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Note 401

E. Badian (1961) 31; D. Mendels (1984) 145 n.105.

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Note 402

E. Bikerman (1940) 28 n.3; for parallel uses of the perfect of gra/fw, cf. P.Mich. 1.14; P.Tebt. 1.21; P.Tebt. 3.730; and the discussion at C.B. Welles (1934) 148, ad 31.25-38. D. Mendels (1984) 144, does not think that the use of γράφω in the letter indicates separate instructions to Antipater, but that “Alexander only sent him a ‘copy’ ”.

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Note 403

See E. Bikerman (1940) 28-29.

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Note 404

See A.B. Bosworth (1971) 125, and below, note 418.

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Note 405

See R.M. Errington (1975) 53.

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Note 406

A.J. Heisserer (1980) 221; cf. Diod. 18.11.1-2; Paus. 1.25.2; Justin 13.5.1.

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Note 407

Cf. D. Mendels (1984) 146 and n.106.

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Note 408

For discussions of the “divinity question”: W.W. Tarn (1948) 2.347-374; J.P.V.D. Balsdon (1950); E. Bickerman (1963); C. Habicht (1970) 17-36, 245-255; K.M.T. Atkinson (1973); J.R. Hamilton (1973) 138-141; F. Mitchel (1973) 211; P.A. Brunt (1976) 495-496; E.A. Fredricksmeyr (1979); E. Badian (1981); S. Jaschinski (1981) 93-119; A.B. Bosworth (1988) 278-290; A.B. Bosworth (1988a) 113-123; R. Develin (1989) 407; N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 234-235; O. Schmitt (1992) 39-41; A. Stewart (1993) 95.

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Note 409

One further epigram appears in Diogenes Laertius, who describes the philosopher Diogenes’ reaction to debate on Alexander’s deification: “When the Athenians were voting to equate Alexander with Poseidon, he said, ‘You had better go ahead and make me Sarapis’ ” (yhfisame/nwn *)aqhnai/wn *)ale/candron *dio/nuson, *)ka)me/,*) e)/fh, *)sa/rapin poih/sate) (Diog. Laert. 6.63). The philosopher was not, however, alive at the time; see J.P.V.D. Balsdon (1950) 383.

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Note 410

E.A. Fredricksmeyr (1979) 1-2. He dates this shrine to 330 BC; cf. C. Habicht (1970) 29 and n.3.

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Note 411

J.P.V.D. Balsdon (1950) 384, notes too that the issue of Alexander’s deification seems to have coincided with or followed closely after the Exiles Decree. “For this last instruction, which was sent by Nicanor and read to the assembled Greeks at Olympia, there is abundant evidence, literary and epigraphic. For the sending of a request for divine honours, if we except the common source of the passages in Plutarch’s Moralia and in Aelian, referred to already, there is no evidence at all. Arrian is silent; but his silence is not fatal, for there is a lacuna in his text and he says nothing, either, of the dispatch ordering the recall of the political exiles. Plutarch is silent, in his life of Alexander, but then he is silent too about the recall of the exiles. But, more serious, Diodorus and Q. Curtius, both of whom mention the order for the recall of the exiles, make no mention of any request for consecration.”

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Note 412

C. Habicht (1970) 17-36, dilutes Balsdon’s argument somewhat and suggests that Alexander may have “requested” divine honors even if he did not “demand” them; this distinction is not a meaningful one. Cf. F. Mitchel (1973) 211. Cf., likewise, N.G.L. Hammond (1989) 234-235, who thinks that Alexander requested, not deification per se, but honors like a god.

K.M.T. Atkinson (1973), argues against Balsdon by noting that epigrams are little more than the most memorable, most quotable, excerpts from actual speeches. She is surely correct in asserting that the pithy sayings attributed to Pytheas, Lycurgus, and Damis represent evidence that Alexander’s deification was debated at Athens and Sparta. But her subsequent analysis of Athenian laws against impiety and the rhetorical tricks employed by Dinarchus, while interesting and persuasive in many particulars, does not, finally, lead to the conclusion that Alexander demanded divine honors for himself.

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Note 413

Whereas J.P.V.D. Balsdon (1950) 385, argues that Arrian’s phrase w)s qewroi\ dh=qen suggests that the Greeks treated Alexander with deference like that due a god, without treating him like a god, E.A. Fredricksmeyr (1979) 3-5, concludes something quite different. Arrian uses ὡς δῆθεν at 4.18.4, 6.13.2, 7.8.2, and Ind. 15.9: “In each case the phrase conveys an ambivalence. From the perspective of the present it indicates what was then considered as real or true, but subsequently was shown to be not real or true.” In this case, Arrian describes the Greek envoys crowning Alexander “as though they were ambassadors to a god”, and then the historian immediately mentions Alexander’s death shortly thereafter - while he was (really) thought to be a god at the time, he was shortly shown to be mortal.

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Note 414

K.M.T. Atkinson (1973) 313, notes that Dinarchus’ word choice - a)nfisbhtei=n - allows the orator to confuse the issue, by claiming Demosthenes to have said: “The people have no right to dispute (a)mfisbhtei=n) Alexander’s divinity”, when in fact he might have meant “the people have no (legal) right to debate (ἀμφισβητεῖν) Alexander’s divinity.”

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Note 415

As, for example, both Tarn and Balsdon do, in very different ways. W.W. Tarn (1948) 2.327-374, suggests that, since the Exiles Decree was beyond Alexander’s authority as ἡγεμών of the Common Peace, he asked for divine status in order to give his decree legitimacy; the historian adds that Alexander did not mean for the Greeks actually to worship him. As Atkinson says, “How the (purely formal) transformation of himself into a god would in fact have attained this result was never made quite clear by Tarn’s theory.” K.M.T. Atkinson (1973) 310-311.

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Note 416

The context of Balsdon’s remark is this: Observing that Alexander was in 324 increasingly active in Greek affairs, he concludes, “This was the moment for his supporters to do everything that they could to ingratiate themselves with him, to compromise their opponents. The question of divine honours was an excellent one on which to force the issue.” J.P.V.D. Balsdon (1950) 387-388.

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Note 417

The Suda says that Antipater “alone of the διάδοχοι did not choose to call Alexander a god, since he considered it a profanation” (mo/nos de\ tw=n diado/xwn qeo\n kale/sai *)ale/candron ou)x ei)/leto, a)sebe\s tou=to kri/nas) (Suda, s.v. Ἀντίπατρος).

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Note 418

He remained in Cilicia, in fact, until the middle of 322, before entering Europe to help Antipater against the Athenians and their allies; Diod. 18.14.4-5; Plut. Eum. 3; 125.

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Note 419

Arrian, it should be noted, mentions the rumors of distrust between king and general only to dismiss them; cf. G.T. Griffith (1965) 15; A.B. Bosworth (1971) 125-126; F. Schachermeyr (1973) 516-519; P. Green (1991) 251.

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Note 420

Arr. 6.15.3, 6.27.1, 6.27.3-4, 7.4.1, 7.6.1; Curt. 9.8.9, 9.10.21, 9.10.29, 10.1.1-2, 10.1.39; Plut. Alex. 68.4; H. Berve (1926) vol. 1, 276, vol. 2 nos. 200, 519, 780, 785; E. Badian (1961) 16-18; A.B. Bosworth (1971) 123 and n.3; S. Jaschinski (1981) 26-27.

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Note 421

See especially, E. Badian (1962) 89-90; P. Green (1991) 251-252.

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Note 422

I. Worthington (1992) 67 n.110.

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Note 423

This view set forth in W.W. Tarn (1921) 8; J. Hornblower (1981) 95-96.

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Note 424

A.B. Bosworth (1988a) 209-210.

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Note 425

A.B. Bosworth (1988a) 209; cf. Diod. 16.94.2, 16.93.9; 17.2.4.

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Note 426

A.B. Bosworth (1988a) 210.

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Note 427

H. Berve (1926) no. 44.

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Note 428

G.T. Griffith (1965) 16.

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Note 429

A.B. Bosworth (1971) 126 n.6.

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— End of notes for section 8 —

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(Section 9 of 9)

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