And his actions during the past few years would have been cause for even
greater hostility. But timidity was hardly in his nature. It is pleasing to
imagine the sharp eye of the leader, verifying that his allies were nearby.
After that, self-confi dent man that he was, he would not have been sur-
prised by the triumph he had so ardently prepared for and orchestrated.
If it was necessary to show his fears, his great risk, it was only in order to
make his success appear all the greater. No one moved. No one protested.
In spite of everything, his return was an absolute and unqualifi ed triumph.
The triumph itself was amazing.
It has impressed thinkers for centuries. Mably, for example, wrote with
great effect in his Observations sur l’histoire de la Grèce (1766): “The
people, not knowing whom to trust, fl ew before him and idolized him,
because they had persecuted him.”
True, in history there have been other glorious heroes who returned
victorious. Everyone in France rushed out to see De Gaulle, if only from
afar. We wept with emotion celebrating on the Champs-Élysées, French
once again. We would have voted for everything to say thank you to the
man who, just the day before, had been a rebel. But wait! The hero we
celebrated had not been condemned by a popular tribunal. He had never
betrayed his country. He had not gone to seek Hitler’s help in defeating
France. He had not gone to the United States to urge Americans to join the
Germans . . . Surely there has never been a more stunning shift in popular
opinion than was shown in the triumphal return of Alcibiades who, only
fi ve years earlier, was still fi ghting against Athens. The people must have
been crazy! Alcibiades must have been a genius!
It must be added that while Alcibiades was received as a savior, Athens
was in no way saved. Plutarch presents a whole scenario about the re-
morse the Athenians must have felt at the time of Alcibiades’s return when
they thought about all they had suffered as a result of sending him away;
and they were delighted by all the benefi ts that already he had brought
to them: “And yet now Alcibiades had taken these wretched, dejected
remnants and resurrected the city to such an extent that not only had he
restored its mastery of the seas, but on land he had also enabled it to con-
quer its enemies all over the world” (32.4).
This euphoric picture was far from accurate. Alcibiades had brought
back some victories, on the coast of the Bosphorus, and brought some
A
Triumphal
Return 151
allies back to Athens’ side. But the war was still going on. The Persians
were still helping Sparta, and, in the middle of Attica, enemy forces con-
tinued to occupy Decelea, blockading everything and causing the Athe-
nians serious economic hardship—yet another humiliation.
Then Alcibiades had a stroke of audacity and genius that amazes us today.
To understand the context, remember that the Mysteries of Eleusis are
celebrated once a year, and that it was the custom for Athenians to go there
in a ceremonial procession. It took place in September. It was a civic cel-
ebration, comparable to the Panathenaean or Dionysian festivals. But after
the occupation of Decelea, the procession could not follow the usual route
in safety. Eleusis was west of Athens, Decelea was north; but the enemy
could invade and cut off the route. As a result, participants had been reach-
ing Eleusis unceremoniously by sea. The new route meant forgoing certain
rituals; it had been customary to stop en route and make sacrifi ces.
This affair involved Alcibiades in two ways: his condemnation had
taken place precisely because he had mocked the mysteries; and the sanc-
tions against him had been imposed by those who were responsible for pro-
tecting them. Moreover, the occupation of Decelea was his fault: it was he
who had advised the Lacedaemonians to take it and everyone knew that.
Hence the idea for this act embodying all his bravado, his fl air for the
daring gesture, and above all his acute sense of how to please the crowd.
It was now May; the mysteries were to be celebrated in the fall. In the
meantime, he was leading the war effort; he had to act, to fi ght, to win
victories. No! He waited until September. He wanted to restore the pro-
cession under his personal protection.
Plutarch says:
It therefore struck Alcibiades as a good idea, bearing in mind how it would
enhance not only his piety in the eyes of the gods, but also his reputation
among men, to restore the traditional form to the rites, by having his infan-
try escort and guard the ceremony past the enemy. This, he thought, would
either thoroughly embarrass and humiliate Agis, if the king chose to do
nothing, or would enable him to fi ght a sacred battle, with the approval of
the gods, in a supremely holy and crucial cause, and to do so within sight of
his native city, with all his fellow citizens there to witness his courage. (34.5)
Plutarch was a very religious man who lacked the words to express the
emotion and admiration this effort inspired. The Athenians themselves
152 Chapter
9
were moved. Alcibiades had gone from desecrater to the most honored
at the ceremonies. He who had been so loudly condemned for playing
the hierophant was now the one who received the titles and highest hon-
ors at the celebration of the mysteries: he was named mystagogue and
hierophant.
Meanwhile, the enemy never budged. People were afraid of him: he
was invincible.
The success went almost too far: amidst all the joy and hopes that his
return had aroused, some of the old political quarrels were beginning to
appear: everyone wanted to talk to him, to use him. Diodorus tells us how
the poor saw in him “their best friend and the man most capable of re-
lieving their misery with a political revolution.” 17 Plutarch even says that the men of the people would have proposed that he become tyrant “as a
way of reaching a place where the envy of others could have no effect on
him, where he could do away with decrees and laws and the idle chatter-
ers who were ruining the city, and so act and administer the city’s affairs
without fear of the informers.” Strange fate for a man who, only a few
years earlier, had been attacked and exiled because he was suspected of
aspiring to tyranny, to hear it suggested that he should now agree to it. In
the enthusiasm of the moment, he might have done so. But he did not. The
months that followed show that he governed as the ruler, but according to
the rules of the democracy. 18
Actually, all these different ideas were an indication of trouble in the
political life of Athens: they show that political quarrels and passions were
simmering beneath the appearance of a newfound unanimity.
But for the moment, these efforts were just fl atteries; the ideas and
suggestions were a testament to the huge success Alcibiades had made of
his return. The hopes of everyone were on him: they saw only him, they
depended on him alone. He was the man of destiny,
It can be risky to inherit such a role. History, even recent history, has seen
a man of destiny end up in a withdrawal tainted with bitterness. It has also
17. Diodorus 13.68.
18. Taken from texts of decrees found in stone. These are offi cial decrees, in which we see him proposing measures of tolerance toward those cities and peoples who return to the Athenian side (J. Hatzfeld cites IG I2 116 and 117).
A
Triumphal
Return 153
happened that unexpected returns that began with fanfare were cut short:
the return from the island of Elba lasted one hundred days.
Alcibiades had everyone on his side: the people, religion and those who
were connected to it, and patriots who were expecting victory. He was like
a god, adored by all.
But he needed victories—at any cost and quickly. Triumphs follow vic-
tories; they also require them.
10
Slightly More Than
One Hundred Days
He needed victories; but these would not be easily won.
There were, in particular, two new circumstances to be considered, and
both were unfavorable.
The fi rst was the presence of a new and remarkably able leader on the
Lacedaemonian side, Lysander—the same one who had fi nally secured the
Spartan victory and stopped Athens, an individual so signifi cant that Plu-
tarch ranked him among his great men and wrote a biography about him.
Of all the different kings or leaders of the army that Sparta had during the
war, he is the only one for whom this is true. He is ranked with the Roman
Sulla. He was ambitious, authoritarian, and uncompromised. These two
equally competent and powerful men, Lysander and Alcibiades, resembled
each other in seeming to take up all the room. It was said of Lysander
that Greece could not support two like him. The same had been said of
Alcibiades. And Plutarch takes pains to distinguish between the harshness
of Lysander and the arrogance of Alcibiades. 1 The fact is that these two 1. Plutarch, Lysander 19.5–6.
Slightly More Than One Hundred Days 155
were worthy adversaries. One modern historian has written: “Lysander,
the Alcibiades of the Eurotas.” 2
This is when they come face to face. Alcibiades returns to Athens in
407. In the spring of that year, Lysander is sent to lead the enemy fl eet.
It is a critical moment; he must stop the fl eet commanded by Alcibiades.
Lysander, moreover, had money. The other new development was that
Persia decided to support Sparta. All the procrastination and scheming of
the satraps had ended: the king of Persia sent his own son, Cyrus (who is
not to be confused with the great Cyrus, the founder of the Persian Em-
pire and the hero of Xenophon’s Cyropaedia ). 3 His mission was clear: he carried a letter from the king, the text of which is preserved in Xenophon,
naming him caranus , or absolute leader of all the forces of Asia Minor.
His fi rst move was to have Pharnabazus detain an Athenian ambassa-
dor; he had left before Alcibiades’s return to Athens and did not return
for three years. 4 This fi rst move by Cyrus was one sign; the second was more serious. Lysander had scarcely assumed command when he sought
out Cyrus and obtained from him very generous promises of support for
the Peloponnesian soldiers. Cyrus responded that not only were these the
instructions from his father, but that he himself, far from being of a dif-
ferent opinion, would do everything he could. He had come with fi ve
hundred talents, and if that did not suffi ce, he would use his own fortune,
beyond what his father had given him; “and if this too should prove in-
adequate, he would go so far as to break up the throne whereon he sat,
which was of silver and gold.” 5 This sounds very much like the promises that Tissaphernes had made, according to what Alcibiades told the Athenians on Samos; 6 but this time the words were coming from Cyrus, and the promises would be kept. In addition, the money was going to Sparta
and not Athens.
Lysander was in the same position with Cyrus that Alcibiades had been
in with Tissaphernes: he fl attered him, he charmed him. Plutarch writes, in
the Life of Lysander, that by criticizing Tissaphernes, and by other means,
2. G. Glotz, Histoire grecque, 2nd ed., 3:113–14.
3. This is the Cyrus we meet in Xenophon’s Anabasis, in events somewhat later.
4. Xenophon 1.4.3–7.
5. Xenophon 1.5.3.
6. See above, chapter 8.
156 Chapter
10
“Lysander made himself agreeable, and by the submissive deference of his
conversation, above all else, he won the heart of the young prince, and
roused him to prosecute the war with vigor.” 7
It was just like Alcibiades’s seduction of Tissaphernes. Even the role of
the garden was repeated! Xenophon, in Oeconomicus , describes how the
king brought Lysander into his garden at Sardis. And Lysander gushed
with admiration: “Cyrus, I really do admire all these lovely things, but
I am far more impressed with your agent’s skill.” His words delighted
Cyrus, who replied: “Well, Lysander, the whole of the measurement and
arrangement is my own work, and I did some of the planting myself.” 8
Lysander was duly impressed by this. He quickly concluded that the king
owed his happiness to his virtue! This edifying exchange apparently took
place later. But it reveals the tone and underlines in a striking way the
historical repetitions and reversals.
Nevertheless, while he waited, Lysander had his feet on the ground.
He asked the young king for increased pay for his soldiers: he asked for
one Attic drachma per man, which was double the Athenian salary. Cyrus
answered that the norm was half a drachma. Lysander was quiet; then,
needing to respond, he asked for one obol more 9 and got it. This amount was still greater than the Athenian rate: four obols to three. And Cyrus
paid one month in advance.
This agreement was disastrous for Athens, which sent an embassy via
Tissaphernes. This embassy, despite the support that Tissaphernes had ap-
parently promised, was not even received.
A leader, and money: that changed everything, and did not make Al-
cibiades’s task any easier.
These circumstances forced him to take a variety of steps that were not
in his nature but that became necessary, such as pillaging and requisitions.
At this point we are told that he had to leave for Caria “to levy money.”
Another source says he “sailed off to get money.” 10
One incident illustrating his action was the attack against the city of
Cyme, despite its being an Athenian ally. His demands there enraged the
7. Plutarch, Lysander 4.3.
8. Xenophon, Oeconomicus 4.21–25.
9. One drachma equals six obols.
10. Plutarch 35.4.
Slightly More Than One Hundred Days 157
inhabitants and unsettled his troops a bit. 11 Incidents like these were held against him; they represent legitimate complaints, and they would be exploited and used against him when the situation grew worse.
In addition, his troops, poorly paid, grew more and more undisci-
plined, the political upheavals having helped reduce the authority of their
leaders. Alcibiades
hardly had the time to change this.
However, he had to act. As usual, he was ready.
Having just returned from winning victories in the Hellespont, he
chose now to attack in Ionia. He left Athens in October 407, with three
hundred ships. Plutarch says that the most powerful citizens, worried once
again about him, made every effort “to hurry him off on his expedition as
quickly as possible” (35.1). The point of this is important, a reminder that
the slightest failure risked reviving old animosities.
From the beginning, things did not go well. On the way to Ionia he
stopped at Andros, which had defected from Athens and was being held by
a very small occupying force. He disembarked and won a victory, but he did
not take the town. He left twenty ships behind to continue the operation; he
had not fully succeeded. Moreover, he had reduced the size of his own fl eet.
Sailing on, he arrived at Samos, the large and secure Athenian base.
He was joined there by his colleague Thrasybulus on his way back from
Thrace, where he had won victories. Both had to act, and quickly.
The Peloponnesian fl eet was just across from Samos, at Ephesus: it was
being repaired thanks to the generosity of Cyrus. Would Alcibiades attack?
He went by, with most of the fl eet, to Notium, on the continent, a little
north of Ephesus. 12 From there he could watch the Peloponnesian fl eet.
And it would be easy for Thrasybulus, who had gone north to attack Pho-
caea, to get to Notium. Alcibiades could safely join him in Phocaea. Every-
thing seemed well planned. Alcibiades would not be going farther; he left
his ships at Notium and put the fl eet under the command of someone else.
At this point something paradoxical, almost unbelievable, happened:
Alcibiades was not there, but he had given orders to avoid engaging the
11. The episode is squeezed into the account of Diodorus, who we know follows Epho-
rus, who was himself originally from Cyme. See also Cornelius Nepos 7.1–2. Regarding the sequence of Alcibiades’s travels, the sources disagree.
12. Diodorus 13.71.
158 Chapter
10
enemy. Despite this, there was a battle, a defeat. It was a defeat that would
lead to his downfall once and for all.
Of course it was partly his own fault. As commander of the fl eet he
was authorized to designate a replacement. But he had made a choice that
The Life of Alcibiades Page 23