Pericles of Athens (11 page)

Pericles mastered this art of persuasion (
peithō
) to the highest degree. The
stratēgos
dominated his opponents by his speech—and solely by his speech. In a city marked
by its semi-literacy, Pericles was still fully a man of oral communication. Unlike
the orators of the fourth century such as Demosthenes or Aeschines, he left to posterity
no written texts, apart from his decrees. So it is only through the filter of other
authors—in particular, Thucydides—that we can attempt to evaluate the nature of Pericles’
rhetoric and its amazing persuasive force.

Pericles the Demagogue

A reading of
The Peloponnesian War
enables one to appreciate the full measure of Pericles’ oratory. In this work, the
historian records three long speeches delivered by the
stratēgos
. The first relates to the declaration of war; the second, dated 431, is the funerary
oration in which Pericles celebrates an Athens still confident and domineering; the
third, one year later, in 430, is the harangue that he addressed to a rowdy assembly
at the time when the city, ravaged by the plague, had to endure the devastation of
its territory.

Clearly, these extremely sophisticated if not sophistic speeches
⁷
certainly do not bear authentic witness to Pericles’ eloquence. Thucydides may well
have been present when these three rhetorical tours de force were delivered, but he
reconstructed them many years later, leaving his own stamp upon them at a time when
he had long since been living in exile. So these samples of Periclean eloquence are
in all likelihood partly Thucydidean. Indeed, the historian himself half-admits to
this at the beginning of his work: “The
speeches are given in the language in which, as it seemed to me, the several speakers
would express, on the subjects under consideration, the sentiments most befitting
the occasion, though at the same time I have adhered as closely as possible to the
general sense of what was actually said.”
⁸

Despite this partial rewriting,
The Peloponnesian War
makes it possible to appreciate the two complementary facets of Pericles’ oratorical
skill: authority and pedagogy. According to Thucydides, the
stratēgos
did not hesitate to counter the crowd’s anger and even chided it severely. This authoritarian
dimension had a pedagogic aim. In his speeches to the Assembly, the
stratēgos
frequently addressed the people as he would a capricious child who would change its
mind depending on the circumstances.
⁹
This uncompromising speech-making won the historian’s admiration: “he restrained
the multitude while respecting their liberties, and led them rather than was led by
them, because he did not resort to flattery, with a view to pleasing them [
pros hēdonēn
], seeking power by dishonest means, but was able, in the strength of his high reputation,
to oppose them and even provoke their wrath” (2.65.8). The fact is that Pericles stood
out as being radically different from his successors who, according to Thucydides,
sought in their speeches only to flatter the people, without any attempt to instruct
it.
¹⁰

Of course, this is an idealized description. Although contemporary sources are in
agreement when they emphasize Pericles’ oratorical skills, they certainly do not all
praise him for them. Pericles is often criticized for his ability to turn black into
white—and, in particular, to persuade his listeners that he had won a fight when,
in fact, he had lost it
¹¹
—and he is often depicted as an orator who, though extraordinary, is alarming. The
comic poets compare his eloquence now to a kind of bestial seduction, now to a divine
enchantment, resorting to a double play of revealing metaphors.

First, consider the animal metaphor: in Eupolis’s
Demes
, Pericles’ wit is compared to the sting of a wasp or a bee: “Pericles was the most
eloquent man in the world. When he appeared he was like a good sprinter. His words
set him ten feet ahead of the other orators. He spoke rapidly, but as well as this
rapidity, a kind of Persuasion [
Peithō
] clung to his lips, for he was the only orator who left his prick [
kentron
] in the ears of those who heard him” (fr. 102 K.-A.). Here, the poet assimilates
Periclean rhetoric to a sting striking the listener in order to blunt his perceptions
(the metaphor also clearly plays on sexual connotations).
¹²

Now for the divine metaphor: according to Plutarch, it was on account of his extraordinary
eloquence that Pericles was nicknamed “the Olympian” by the comic poets: “they spoke
of him as ‘thundering’ and ‘lightning’ when he harangued his audience, and as “wielding
a dread thunderbolt [
keraunon
] in his tongue.’”
¹³
This metaphor attributes a quasi-divine power to the speech of the
stratēgos
. A thunderbolt, the divine attribute par excellence, could
strike a person down and could bind those whom it touched, constricting them in unbreakable
bonds from which it was absolutely impossible to escape.
¹⁴
The poet Cratinus possibly resorted to the same analogy in his play titled
The Ploutoi
(The Spirits of Wealth), composed in 430/429 B.C. for the Lenaean Festival, in which
he assimilated Pericles to Zeus “binding the rebel Titans in unbreakable bonds [
desmoi
].”
¹⁵

Periclean eloquence thus possesses a disquieting power that links it now to the beasts,
now to the gods. In both cases, the
stratēgos
was set apart from common humanity, either for better or for worse. When the comic
writers presented him in this way, they intended to arouse in the public admiration
as well as suspicion.
¹⁶

One reason why Periclean rhetoric was effective, even terrifying, is that it observed
a number of oratorical and gestural codes that served to magnify its impact and renown
even further.

P
ERICLES AT THE
T
RIBUNE
: K
NOWING
H
OW TO
B
EHAVE

Oratorical Codes and Political Innuendo

In the Assembly, as in the
Agora
, Pericles’ behavior was, according to Plutarch, marked by order and balance. “He
not only had … a spirit that was solemn and a discourse that was lofty and free from
popular and reckless effrontery, but also a composure of countenance that never relaxed
into laughter, a gentleness of carriage and cast of attire that suffered no emotion
to disturb it while he was speaking, a modulation of voice that was far from boisterous
[
athorubon
], and many similar characteristics which struck all his hearers with wondering amazement
[
thaumastōs
].”
¹⁷
Plutarch, the moralist, presents Pericles as the very embodiment of a model orator,
in sharp contrast to demagogues such as Cleon.

According to the author of the
Constitution of the Athenians
, the death of Pericles in fact ushered in new oratorical codes: “When Pericles died,
Nicias, who died in Sicily, held the headship of the men of distinction and the head
of the People was Cleon, son of Cleaenetus, who was thought to have done the most
to corrupt the people by his impetuous outbursts and was the first person to use bawling
and abuse on the platform, all other persons speaking in an orderly fashion.”
¹⁸
Thucydides described Cleon as “the most violent of the citizens of his day,” and
Aristophanes declared him to be a “thief, brawler, roaring as Cycloborus roars.”
¹⁹
To the horror of members of the traditional elite but in keeping with democratic
ideology, Cleon broke with the current conventions. Although the origin of his wealth
and his way of addressing the public shocked some of the Athenian elite, they in no
way offended the
sensibilities of the people, as was proved by his brilliant career and his numerous
reelections to the post of
stratēgos
.

Cleon initiated a new mode of communication between the leaders and the
dēmos
, and it was destined to enjoy a fine future. In the fourth century, the orator Aeschines
reminisced about a time in the past when orators spoke in a more measured fashion,
with one hand placed beneath a fold in their clothing—the
himation
—thereby conveying their moderation and distinction:

So decorous were those public men of old, Pericles, Themistocles and Aristides (who
was called by a name most unlike that by which Timarchus here is called), that to
speak with the arm outside the cloak, as we all do nowadays as a matter of course,
was regarded then as an ill-mannered thing and they carefully refrained from doing
it. … See now, fellow-citizens, how unlike to Timarchus were … those men of old whom
I mentioned a moment ago. They were too modest to speak with the arm outside the cloak,
but this man, not long ago, yes, only the other day, in an assembly of the people,
threw off his cloak and leaped about like a gymnast, half-naked.
²⁰

Quite apart from its nostalgic tone, this passage shows how much oratorical gestures
and techniques had changed since the age of Pericles. But even if he praises the eloquence
of the past, the better to draw attention to the lack of dignity of Timarchus, his
opponent, Aeschines in no way calls for a return to the conventions of the past that—in
any case—would no longer have suited the fourth-century audience.

Pericles thus founded his oratorical successes upon a way of addressing the people
that was somewhat out of date. All the same, the reason he fascinated his listeners
so much was not just because he was the last representative of a form of eloquence
that was on the way out. Far from invariably respecting well-trodden paths, as an
orator he broke away from the customary codes of behavior, in that he never responded
with violence to attacks launched against him. Throughout his career, Pericles manifested
an unrivaled ability to suffer outrageous assaults without striking back. This set
him apart from his contemporaries and lent a particular solemnity to his words.

Periclean Imperturbability: An Ambiguous Solemnity

At the Assembly’s tribune, Pericles was several times confronted by the people’s anger,
but never betrayed the slightest annoyance. This imperturbability was highlighted
in 430 B.C., when the Athenians accused him of being
responsible for the many disasters that had struck them. As Plutarch, following Thucydides,
points out: “Pericles was moved by no such things, but gently and silently underwent
the ignominy and the hatred [
tēn adoxian kai tēn epekhtheian
].”
²¹
Far from being dictated by the circumstances, this imperturbability was a deliberate
strategy on the part of the Athenian leader, who observed this line of conduct not
only in the Assembly but also when in the Agora, engaging in the exchanges of daily
life. Plutarch records a particularly striking episode: “Once, at a time when he had
been abused and insulted all day long by a certain lewd fellow of the baser sort,
he endured it all quietly, though it was in the market place, where he had urgent
business to transact, and towards evening went away homewards unruffled, the fellow
following along and heaping all manner of contumely upon him. When he was about to
go indoors, it being now dark, he ordered a servant to take a torch and escort the
fellow in safety back to his own home.”
²²
Rather than react as any citizen normally would, Pericles remained unmoved and refused
to lose his temper despite repeated insults. This was, to put it mildly, an unusual
reaction. Faced with such a torrent of insults, the normal reaction would have been
to respond to the affront by giving as good as he got—a form of negative reciprocity—or
else to set the matter before the judges, for to insult serving magistrates was behavior
liable to heavy punishment.
²³
Not only did the
stratēgos
refrain from replying but he chose to respond to the humiliation with a kindness—in
accordance with a positive form of reciprocity: he had the offender escorted back
to his home.

In Plutarch’s account, Pericles thus stands out by reason of his imperturbable behavior,
at the risk of compromising his honor as a citizen and his dignity as a magistrate.
²⁴
It is tempting to link this phlegmatic attitude with his sculpted effigy, which represents
him as impassive, parading a serenity untouched by emotion, as if whoever commissioned
the sculpture (either himself or his relatives) wished to emphasize this particularly
detached way of behaving and appearing.
²⁵

This representation of a Pericles of bronze, draped in all his dignity, was, however,
not devoid of a measure of ambiguity. His opponents suggested that this carefully
studied pose was simply a disguised form of arrogance. A refusal to respond to insults
might well pass for a manifestation of an excessive distance, for it was a way of
refusing to communicate with ordinary citizens, even in an aggressive mode. Such was
the reproach expressed by Ion of Chios, who was always quick to criticize the
stratēgos
, to the advantage of Cimon: “The poet Ion, however, says that Pericles had a presumptuous
[
hupotuphon
] and somewhat arrogant manner of address and that into his haughtiness [
megalaukhiais
] there entered a good deal of disdain and
contempt for others; he praises, on the other hand, the tact, complaisance and elegant
address which Cimon showed in his social intercourse.”
²⁶

When he displayed such emotional detachment, Pericles shocked his contemporaries as
much as he fascinated them: when solemnity (
semnotēs
) was not tempered by a dose of affability, it always risked being taken badly and
considered to reflect an anti-democratic stance.
²⁷
That is precisely the gist of a line by the comic poet Cratinus, who presents Pericles
as “a man full of haughtiness and frowning brows [
anelktais ophrusi semnon
].”
²⁸
Weird though it might seem, in Athens, certain facial expressions conveyed well-established
political meanings. Frowning eyebrows were considered as an external sign of oligarchical
or even tyrannical aspirations. So when the orator Demosthenes wanted to discredit
his opponent Aeschines, he reproached him not only for his sumptuous clothing and
his imposing trailing train but also for his frowning brows: “But since he has perpetrated
wrongs without number, he has become
mighty supercilious
[
tas ophrus anespake
]. … Behold him, pacing the market-place with the stately stride of Pythocles, his
long robe reaching to his ankles, his cheeks puffed out, as one who should say ‘One
of Philip’s most intimate friends, at your service!’ He has joined the clique that
wants to get rid of democracy.”
²⁹
As a reflection of a misplaced solemnity, frowning brows—here rendered as “superciliousness”—could
be interpreted as a manifestation of overweaning scorn. So when he dwelt on this seemingly
anodyne facial detail, Cratinus was launching a particularly grave accusation against
Pericles.
³⁰