gained a perspective that sheds light on us today.
At other times, even recent times, these similarities and perspectives
would no doubt have presented a different order of importance.
I am certain, for example, that fi fty years ago, when I was writing a
book on Thucydides and Athenian Imperialism , and with the war against
Hitler raging throughout Europe and beyond, the most striking thing to
me about the life of Alcibiades would have been the way in which he
identifi ed with imperialism in Athens, and, thanks to Thucydides, with
imperialism in general. I would have been struck by his desire to take on
the Peloponnesians, then by the audacity of the Sicilian expedition and
the grand design that was lurking behind this initial desire for conquest. I
would have admired the way in which all those forces that impel the pow-
erful to new conquests are revealed in him as he makes more and more en-
emies. And I would have appreciated the example of that expedition that
constituted the beginning of the end; for fi nally everyone united against
the conqueror. Consequently, I would have been keenly aware of the way
in which Thucydides marked the differences between the imperialism of
Alcibiades and the more moderate, more prudent imperialism that Pericles
embodied. I would also have stressed the way in which, as Thucydides’s
analyses foreshadowed, the alliance against Athens quickly formed, fi rst
in Sicily, then in Ionia, and in almost the entire Greek world. And I would
have marveled to observe how, across the years, Hitler’s forces overex-
tended themselves in the same way and ended with a similar disaster.
Of course, Alcibiades and Hitler have nothing in common; but the les-
son that the Greeks themselves read in the history of Alcibiades would
have meaning when applied to altogether different circumstances.
More generally, I would no doubt have recognized in these events what
linked hubris to nemesis . And in particular I would have delighted to see the birth, in terms of imperialism and Alcibiades, of the concept that public opinion can be highly signifi cant.
This concept emerges, negatively, from the work of Thucydides. Some
of his speakers dared to say to the Athenians: “Aren’t you going to alien-
ate the goodwill of the cities by behaving like this?” Others noted that
they would have to rely on what remained of that goodwill. The Greek
Conclusion 195
word is eunoia . Isocrates, at the beginning of the following century, con-
structed a theory of eunoia , of the need to know how to achieve recon-
ciliation, in external and internal politics, and in the work of the orator. 4
In his imperialist politics, Alcibiades contributed to Athens’ loss of this
important asset; and the conduct of the cities of Sicily provides proof of
that. But at the same time, Alcibiades, through his insolence and his prov-
ocations, lost the support of a whole sector of Athens. He made enemies,
and those enemies were his undoing.
Thucydides put it simply: his insolence in private life impacted his polit-
ical career: “His habits gave offense to everyone, and caused them to com-
mit affairs to other hands, and thus before long to ruin the city” (6.15.4).
Alcibiades, who could be persuasive whenever he wished, was unable
to inspire confi dence in those on whom, ultimately, his fate would depend.
According to Isocrates, this was the way a sense of morality could prove
benefi cial.
Today, in that same domain of foreign relations, perhaps we might be
more sensitive to the drama of the quarrels between Greek cities, quarrels
that the gold of rich Asians crudely settled.
There, too, experience was painful for the Greeks. As was often the
case for them, however, it soon bore good fruit. They grasped the folly of
all these quarrels dividing cities so close in culture. Alcibiades had been
part of these quarrels, had encouraged and exacerbated them; to them
he owed, indirectly, his downfall. Even during his lifetime we encounter
Greek opposition to these deals with barbarians. And some years later, at
the beginning of the fourth century, there were calls for unity and the cre-
ation of a Greek bloc to oppose the most powerful barbarians: Gorgias,
Lysias, Isocrates supported this effort and fought for it. The Greeks estab-
lished federations and confederations. Can we not, in building Europe,
recognize in the scandal of Alcibiades’s fi nal years and his plots with the
satraps a call to rally and to do better?
The lesson is that we must not follow either path: that of the imperialist
Alcibiades in the beginning or that of the beggar at barbarian courts play-
ing one city-state off the other. Alcibiades’s actions are a wake-up call, one
that has meaning right now.
4. See my article “Eunoia in Isocrates, or the Political Importance of Creating Good Will,” Journal of Hellenic Studies 78 (1958): 92–101.
196 Conclusion
But this analogy with the unifi cation of Europe is, in the case of Alcibi-
ades, indirect and superfi cial; when we look back at his life, the crisis in
democracy is what is most striking and moving today. Here the parallels
come into full view and constantly astonish us.
First, there were the personal rivalries that ultimately paralyzed the
state. It was Nicias against Alcibiades. Though there was almost no
difference in their external policies, the people trusted only one or the
other. The fi rst result of this dichotomy was that it ensured the failure of
every effort. The second problem was that it led to tensions, ruses, and
futile attacks. Even ostracism, created, at least in part, to avoid these
confl icts, was manipulated by various efforts and shifting alliances. Am-
bition, when it wants something, overcomes every obstacle, regardless
of the means.
And that is precisely what it was: personal ambition, the desire of a
single person to exercise power. Athenians distrusted Alcibiades for what
they thought was his aspiring to tyranny. But ambition, as everyone
knows, can also leave its mark in democratic institutions and cause just as
much harm as tyranny would.
These selfi sh ambitions lead not only to demagoguery, but, when pushed
to the extreme, to political provocation and retaliation of the worst kind.
And that brings us to the “affairs,” something we see in our own day.
The scandals involving Alcibiades were of all types.
His taste for luxury, closely linked to the appetite for power, led him
to spend money for athletic glory, and that brought him the attention of
everyone. But the expenses he incurred for this purpose were suspicious
and led to a long trial. Such things happen when ambition, tied to bold-
ness, knows no limits or scruples. They are not the signs of a healthy
democracy.
There are times when one scandal or another arises, and the “prob-
lems” multiply. There are accusations and denunciations. There is an
arrest. Careers are wrecked by a wave of panic. Alcibiades was such a vic-
tim. This man, who had so much to be held to account for, was probably
brought down by accusations that he could have s
uccessfully countered.
And emotions are so much stronger in a democracy. Conspiracy theo-
ries arise easily: “He aspires to tyranny,” said the enemies of Alcibiades,
the way we would today say “to fascism.” In both cases, there is talk of a
plot against the state. Fear turns contention into drama.
Conclusion 197
After that, the domains of justice and politics become intermingled.
In Athens, this tangle was common and almost constant: the same peo-
ple were voting in the Assembly and in the courts of justice. Sometimes
the Assembly had the power of a court. In our country, however, justice
is a separate domain, and everyone insists that it must remain so. The
press, however, links justice to shifts in public opinion. People are not so
insistent on the independent judiciary when troublesome facts interfere.
Among individuals today who are under scrutiny, how many feel them-
selves caught in a trap like Alcibiades?
Clearly, it is not necessary to force the comparison. The two eras in this
comparison are not alone in scandals. Cicero’s Rome was rife with trials
dealing with embezzlement and criminality. In Europe today, our country
is not alone in its scandals.
And yet how can we help feeling startled by such connections? And
how can we avoid the questions they raise?
For example, whether in ancient Greece or France today, one cannot
escape the impression that scandalous behavior among leaders is getting
worse.
Thucydides says clearly that rival ambitions arose after Pericles’s death;
and he explains that this happened because no paramount leader of the
people emerged. Is that true today as well? There have been other times in
the history of democracy in France when there were enormous scandals,
but we are unlikely to fi nd another period in which the habit of pursuing
and imprisoning politicians for corruption fl ourished as it does today, in
full view of everyone. Is this because, as in Athens, the power struggle be-
tween political leaders leaves no clear winner? That explanation does not
seem to fi t, at least not very tightly. But the fi ghting between parties, or be-
tween individuals, offi cially recognized, is expensive and leads to careless-
ness. Isn’t this, cast in terms of groups and economics, the same principle?
Could this be a weakness inherent in democracy? The Athenian exam-
ple suggests not. In desperation, the Athenians renounced the democracy
in 411, but there was no change in individual passions or in the policies of
the cities. In fact, if there was a real danger inherent in competition within
the democracy, that problem existed only in the character of the citizens
themselves, in the power of leading men, and in civic pride.
Everyone knew that Athens, having entered the war with confi dence,
had lost its vigor and its faith. Everyone knew that the sophists had
198 Conclusion
managed to encourage realism and skepticism in the youth. And every-
one knew that morality had been undermined by the war. Thucydides
analyzed all these moral effects of the war and of civil war. Is it any dif-
ferent today? Do people today, as in Athens, not talk endlessly about our
moral crisis? Democracy cannot survive the debasement of values. That
is why the quality of education, the formation of future leaders, must be
the primary concern of politicians who care about democracy—and this is
clearly not the case today.
In some ways, the Athenian experience can also be reassuring: a U-turn
is always possible. There was one in Athens, following the defeat and the
occupation, and after the Athenians had overthrown the government of
the Thirty. The fi rst great decision of the restored democracy was to end,
once and for all, the political quarreling. For us as well, defeat and oc-
cupation were the occasion for a comparable reversal around newfound
values capable of inspiring heroic acts. There may be other occasions as
well, and, if we are clear-eyed, they might not come at such great cost.
These thoughts have led us far from Alcibiades. And they exceed the
experiences of his lifetime: the reconciliation of the parties and the desire
for unity among the cities came only as a reaction, after him and without
him. He had experienced years of crisis, contributing valuable talents to
the fray, but they were all quickly lost in intrigues, quarrels, and revolu-
tions. He added to this chaos both casually and boldly, both thoughtlessly
and with imagination. He was also a victim of it. He could have done
great things for Athens and for Greece. Reviewing his life we see how
much he did, ultimately, to harm his city and country, not to mention the
ruin he brought to himself. This amazing man is a model for all time—one
to study, but not to imitate.
In the fi nal analysis, will I have simply offered an example of a Greek
historian of dazzling lucidity and an example of a Greek hero whose life
provides only negative lessons? That would mean forgetting all the beau-
tiful images of Alcibiades we have seen. That would mean forgetting his
charm as well as his sharp intelligence, his way with words, and his cour-
age in facing enemies and adversity. When we remove the political evalu-
ation, his abilities and talents come to the fore. Alcibiades is like a hero in
Greek tragedy who outshines the average man, but who is brought down
by a fatal fl aw. He is an Agamemnon who sacrifi ced his own daughter,
an Ajax who once insulted Athena, an Eteocles who could not escape his
Conclusion 199
paternal curse, a Hercules foolishly in love with a young captive. Alcibi-
ades was as magnifi cent as they were and ended just as badly.
We should not fool ourselves. This story is about the fact that admirable
heroes are destroyed by a fl aw or an indiscretion, and that they illustrate
the contrast, eminently tragic, between glory and ruin, something that is
characteristic of both Alcibiades and tragedy. It is not about any particular
resemblance to one of those tragic heroes. And yet I have pointed out the
parallels throughout this book. Some would recognize Alcibiades’s ambi-
tion in Euripides’s hero Eteocles and his desire for power; others would
fi nd a resemblance to Philoctetes, Socrates’s hero, who, far from home,
was indispensable for future success, and on whom the sacking of Troy
depended. The parallels in these situations are not the point here—though
the impact of such a strong personality makes comparison quite easy.
In any case, there was an undeniable tragic element in Alcibiades’s life.
Perhaps he himself was caught in a vise, not the vise of fate, but of po-
litical necessity. The trap we referred to before closed on him, as did those
set by the gods for the tragic heroes.
Obstinately he stood his ground against everything. Never beaten, he
fought with bravery in every battle. Socrates obtained for him an award
for bravery. Alcibiades’s bravery never faltered in an attempt to escape
disaster. He faced everything with clarity and obstinacy, with skill and
boldness. The picture we have of his death illustrate
s this quality perfectly.
Like the Homeric heroes who, knowing they were about to die, cried out,
“So what? I will fi ght!” he fought, alone. This, at least, is a positive lesson.
In one edition of Thucydides, I found it distracting that the publisher
had chosen for the cover of the book a picture of Leonidas, nude, hold-
ing a sword. Leonidas was the Spartan hero of the Persian Wars, at the
beginning of the fi fth century. He was also a legendary hero, one whose
style of combat was very different from the strategic maneuvers described
by Thucydides at the end of that same century. Now here I am today,
imagining Alcibiades leaving his burning house just like that cover picture
of Leonidas. We have to expect this with Greece. Even when describing
dark times and events that, as told by the harshest critics, are comparable
to the most sordid events in our modern experience, we can expect to see
them all in a heroic light, one that transfi gures man, wrenching him from
his sad context to cast him outside of time, into a universal beauty where
we can look on him with pride.
Index
Adeimantus, 170 n5
orator, 3 , 9 – 13 , 91 – 97 , 192 ; ostracism
Aegospotami, battle of, 167
of, 7 – 8 , 22 , 50 – 51 , 81 – 87 , 89 – 103 ;
Aelius Aristides, 33 n3, 145 n9
scandals of, 14 – 31 , 73 – 81 , 86 – 87 ,
Aeschines of Sphettos, 25 , 33 , 172 ,
102 – 3 ; treacheries of, 90 – 97 , 108 – 22 ;
183 – 84
on trust, 89 – 90 ; wealth of, 6 – 8 , 18 ,
Aeschylus, 56 , 163 – 65
185 ; youthfulness of, 12 – 14
Against Alcibiades (attrib. to Andocides),
Alcibiades of Lyon, Saint, 192 n1
xvi, 18 , 28 , 50 , 73 – 74
Alcibiades of Phlegonte, 79 n15
Agesilaus, 103
Alcibiades of Sparta, 5
Agis, Spartan king, 46 , 91 , 102 , 106 – 9 ,
Alcibiades the elder (grandfather), 5
127
Alcibiades’s son, 28 – 29 , 76 , 170 ;
Alcibiades, 6 ; chariot horses of, 19 ,
scandals of, 97 – 98 , 180 ; trials of,
27 – 29 , 87 , 135 – 36 , 179 ; charisma of,
178 – 80 . See also Leotychidas
2 – 4 , 24 , 103 , 109 – 10 , 113 , 130 , 195 ;
The Life of Alcibiades Page 29