The rise of the demos
Athens on the dawn of the 6th century reeked of the provincial. Though times were changing, and the revolutionary invention of coinage in Ionia had sparked prosperty and innovation across the rest of Greece, Athens remained stubbornly in the past. Athenian aristocrats, known as the Eupatrids or 'well-born', responded with disdain to a fickle concept such as money. Understandably so, as previously all capital had been locked up in their extensive estates. The merchants, shrugging their shoulders, continued raking in the cash. Trade, now more lucrative than ever with the introduction of the clinking of silver, had seduced almost every elite in Greece. The two principle exceptions were the parochial Eupatrids, and their puritanical tradionalist Spartan counterparts, the Heraclids. Athens was regarded, for all intents and purposes, as a backward :wub:.
Where all other polis in Greece strived for eunomia or 'good governance', the Athenians were only rivalled in their apalling social situation by the pre-Lycurgan Spartans. The Eupatrid land owners, by oppressing the lower orders, had unleashed an agrarian nightmare upon Attica. The aristocratic estates served to consume all in their path. Desperate farmers, prepared to sell their freedom in a bid to survive, might well end up in shackles, toiling away in what was previously their own farm. Debtors, unable to pay their creditors, were forced to exchange their liberty for collateral. With the poor powerless, it appeared that the class imbalance would continue in perpetuity.
But even the most illustrious and isolated Eupatrid, draped in prized purple fabrics and reeking of perfume, could not ignore the detrimental effects of such overt manipulation. Athens was land hungry, and with each free farmer placed in shackles, the grain output dwindled and another hoplite in the battle line dissapeared. Obsessing over Oriental chic whilst Athens slid into the morass of destitution was no longer a feasible tactic. Sprawling temples, erected in self-veneration by the aristocracy, were of little use with no hoplites to protect them from plunder.
Athens desperately needed a political mastermind, capable of preserving the prerogatives of the blue-blooded elite whilst returning to the poor their earth-borne freedom. Soon enough, an elusive figure by the name of Solon emerged. Here was a man who could appeal to every rung on the social ladder. The descendent of a blue-blooded Attic monarch, he had also dabbled in trade, and did not refrain from letting slip to the poor that he sympathised with their plight. Here, then, was the centrist Athens had yearned for. In 594 BC, he was promptly elected to the archonship.
Solon, the centrist lawmaker whose mediating efforts earned him a place as one of the Seven Sages of Greece.
'Society is well governed when its people obey the magistrates, and the magistrates obey the law.'
Rather than capitalize on serfdom in an attempt to resurrect Athens, as the Spartan reformer Lycurgus* would undoubtedly have done, Solon instead pushed for nothing short of complete liberation. The droves of impoverished farmers who had lost their land, freedom and dignity were emancipated with immediate effect. Debts were dropped, confiscated lands returned and Athenian pride restored. And, so that Eupatrid influence may never again encroach upon the smaller holdings of the lower orders, a maximum property restriction was enforced regardless of the legality of the acquisition. These were known as the seisachtheia laws, literally meaning the relief of burdens.
Solon, proactive as ever, next pushed for the conquest of Salamis, drawing upon obscure ancient lineages that had mysteriously materialised as justification. News indeed to the tiny polis of Megara, a city that had already claimed possession. The Eupatrids, relishing in an oppurtunity to display their heroics for all to see, responded with eagerness. Solon, internally calculating, might well have reckoned that having stripped the Eupatrids of their slave-gangs it might also be prudent to at the same time throw them a particularly juicy scrap. An overseas escapade, now here was a distraction that no aristocrat could afford not to revel in. Whilst they were promptly strapping on their gleaming bronze armour, Solon was restricting their influence back at home.
The common farmer, the backbone of the Athenian military and the foundation of Attic society, was now free. But his importance would now never be shunned, the past stood as testament to the dangers of that attitude. Instead, even the lowliest Athenian may travel to the city and be present in debates over legislation. Of course, low-born commoners would have to remain silent and could never dream of standing for a magistracy. But, astoundingly, Solon had given them something far more powerful than freedom of speech. Instead, he had given them a vote. No Euparid could now sniff too decisively at the common man, for his ambitions rided upon his support.
Solon, his work seemingly complete, promptly embarked on a cruise around the Mediterrenean to work on his poetry and expand his knowledge of foreign cultures. Before leaving, he considerately informed the people of Athens that his constitution was to remain in place for at least a century. Seemingly satisfied, Solon sailed away and dissapeared over the horizon, the Eupatrids began to rub their hands with glee. Without the egalitarian strongman, surely they could expect to return to their old habits, what could possibly prevent them? The Eupatrids relished in short-sightedness.
Indeed, it soon appeared that the glorious reforms Solon had created lacked substance. His proposed invasion of Salamis was the first act to be criticised. What the Eupatrids had expected to be little more than stage for the flaunting of their burgeoning egos, soon turned into a disaster. It appeared the Megarans, despite their comparatively minute reserves of manpower, made up for this in dogged determination. The war dragged on and disillusionment became increasingly widespread. The bad times, after a short respite, had apparently returned.
Yet, all was not lost. Solon's lawmaking had introduced a new menacing and swirling influence in Athenian politics. Yes, the magistracies and the right to debate over policy were firmly in the exclusivist Eupatrid domain, but the oligarchs could never entirely be secure knowing that their words were being intently listened to by a silent host, each individual equipped with a vote capable of dooming their ambitions. Cobblers, blacksmiths, farmhands, potters - the common people, the demos, were now an irrefutable staplepin in political workings. It was the beginning of something monumentous, something incredible, but nobody in the time of Solon could possibly of anticipated what laid just on the horizon.
And, surprisingly, the war for Salamis was never dropped. In coming years, it was to prove that the blood spilt over the prized island was not a waste after all. Indeed, it would one day host an event that would change the course of all history.
Testing and refreshing my memory, I sometimes write a little narrative history, and ahh... it sometimes spirals out of control. I'm actually quite proud of this, so I've decided to share it with you poor people. This certainly should not be regarded as anything other than, what I hope is quite a generally informative and interesting read. If anybody spots any errors, please remain silent. If you cannot remain silent, let me know and they shall be rectified.
Zoomable map of ancient Greece for reference.
http://www.greeklandscapes.com/maps/ancient_greece.html
* Lycurgus was the Spartan reformer who engineered Doric Spartan society, equality founded upon the serfdom of the conquered.
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Originally Posted by Publius Clodius Pulcher
