XENOPHON AND THE ATHENIAN

DEMOCRACY

This book seeks to understand Xenophon as an elite Athenian

writing largely for an elite Athenian audience in the first half of the
fourth century BC. It argues that Xenophon calls on men of his own
class to set aside their assumptions of superiority based on birth or
wealth and to reinvent themselves as individuals who can provide
effective leadership to the democratic city and serve it as good
citizens. Xenophon challenges, criticizes, and sometimes satirizes
the Athenian elite, and seeks to instruct them concerning the values,
knowledge, and practical skills they will need to succeed as civic
leaders. Xenophon is thus best understood not as an aristocratic
dinosaur who is out of place in a democratic setting, as some have
assumed, but as a thoughtful and pragmatic reformist who seeks to
ensure that meritorious members of the elite step forward to lead
within the democracy.

 .  is a professor in the Department of Classical

Studies at Indiana University. He is the author of The Limits of
Altruism in Democratic Athens (Cambridge, ), The Bad Citizen
in Classical Athens (Cambridge, ), and The Litigious Athenian
().
 XENOPHON AND THE
ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY
The Education of an Elite Citizenry

MATTHEW R. CHRIST
Indiana University
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To Maggie, Miranda, and Helen Christ
 Contents

Acknowledgments page ix

Introduction: Xenophon the Athenian 

 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica 
The Arginusae Affair 
The Thirty 
The Elite as Leaders of the Democracy 

 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia 

Critias, Alcibiades, and the Problem of Elite Political Behavior 
The Importance of Political Engagement 
Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
Politics and Philia among Gentlemen 

 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus 

Elite Neglect of Oikonomia 
Ischomachus, the Perfect Gentleman 
Farming as an Occupation for a Gentleman 
Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship 
The Oikos and the City 

 The Education of Callias in the Symposium 

(Re)educating Callias 
Callias, Wealth, and the Democratic City 
Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician 

 Xenophon as Expert, Advisor, and Reformer in the

Hipparchicus and Poroi 
Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr 

vii
viii Contents
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator: The Politics of Mass
and Elite in the Anabasis 
The Anabasis as an Athenian Story 
The Anabasis and Democratic Athens 
Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 

Conclusions: Elite Readers, Elite Citizens 

Bibliography 
Index of Ancient Citations 
General Index 
 Acknowledgments

As I wrote this book, I benefited greatly from the feedback of audiences at

University of Michigan, Ohio State University, University of Toronto,
Rutgers University, Wilfred Laurier University, and Indiana University.
I am particularly grateful to Ben Akrigg, Greg Anderson, Ryan Balot, Judy
Fletcher, Sara Forsdyke, Adriaan Lanni, Kurt Raaflaub, Eric Robinson,
Bernd Steinbock, Rob Tordoff, Bob Wallace, and Victoria Wohl for their
suggestions and comments along the way. I also want to express gratitude
to my family and friends for their kind support, and to Michael Sharp at
Cambridge University Press and the anonymous readers of my manuscript,
whose suggestions and criticisms were extremely helpful. The College of
Arts and Sciences at Indiana University generously provided me with
support for materials and other research costs.
Translations in the text are adapted from those found in Bowen ;
Brownson , ; Dillery ; Henderson ; Krentz ,
; Marchant and Bowersock ; Pomeroy ; Smith ;
Strassler, Marincola, and Thomas ; Tredennick and Waterfield
; and Waterfield and Cartledge . Greek texts are from the
Thesaurus Linguae Graecae (University of California, Irvine).
Ancient passages that are cited on specific points are given exempli gratia
rather than as comprehensive listings of all testimonia, unless otherwise
indicated. Abbreviated references to ancient authors and works are based
primarily on those used in H. G. Liddell and R. Scott, A Greek-English
Lexicon, th edition, revised by H. S. Jones and R. McKenzie (Oxford,
). References to modern scholarship are listed in the Bibliography at
the end of this book. Abbreviations of periodicals in the Bibliography
follow the system of L’Année philologique.

ix
 Introduction
Xenophon the Athenian

This book seeks to understand Xenophon as an elite Athenian writing

largely for an elite Athenian audience in the first half of the fourth century
BC. Xenophon was an exceptional member of the Athenian elite in many
respects: as a Socratic, mercenary general, and longtime exile from his city.
Nonetheless, his diverse and extensive corpus deeply reflects his elite
Athenian identity and addresses matters of great importance to his Athe-
nian readers. Central among these is the question of the proper political
role of members of the elite within the Athenian democracy especially in
the aftermath of the brutal oligarchy of / that many members of the
city’s elite had supported. Close consideration of Xenophon’s treatment of
this can help us to understand better not only his personal perspective but
also the challenges, both practical and ideological, faced by his contempo-
rary elite Athenian audience.
The Xenophon who emerges in the course of this study is a social and
political innovator, who calls on men of his own class to set aside their
assumptions of superiority based on birth or wealth and to reinvent
themselves as individuals who can provide effective leadership to the
democratic city and serve it as good citizens. Xenophon has too often been
viewed as a traditional aristocrat who rejects democratic rule and promotes
an aristocratic worldview that is at odds with it. This vision of Xenophon,
however, is not borne out by a careful reading of his writings. Xenophon,
in fact, calls on his contemporary elite audience to adapt and contribute to
the democratic city, and insists that this will benefit both them and the
city. Far from encouraging complacency among Athenians of his class,
Xenophon – and the Socrates he depicts in several of his works –
challenges, criticizes, and sometimes satirizes the Athenian elite and their
attitudes, and seeks to instruct them concerning the values, knowledge,
and practical skills they will need to succeed as civic leaders. Xenophon is
best understood not as an aristocratic dinosaur who is out of place in a
democratic setting but as a thoughtful and pragmatic reformist who seeks

 Introduction
to ensure that meritorious members of the elite step forward to lead within
the democracy.
Although Xenophon’s communications with his elite Athenian readers
are necessarily one-sided from our modern vantage point – we have only
his words and do not know how members of the Athenian elite responded
to these – there is good reason to believe that his writings addressed
matters of considerable interest to this audience. This is evident not only
when Xenophon treats elite pastimes, such as hunting and horsemanship,
or estate management, but also when he expounds on the role of the elite
in political life. Elite Athenians were disproportionately active in leadership
roles in the democratic city, and how they carried these out mattered
immensely to them and the city. While one would be hard-pressed to write
a history of Athens’ elite exclusively on the basis of Xenophon’s writings,
these can enrich our understanding of the constraints on, and opportuni-
ties for, the elite under the democracy.
In exploring Xenophon’s relationship with his elite Athenian audience,
this book aims to offer a fresh perspective on his eclectic writings. Scholars
have productively investigated many aspects of Xenophon’s corpus, includ-
ing his forays into philosophical, literary, and historical discourse; his
striking generic innovation; his portrayal of Socrates and the relation of
this to Plato’s depiction of him; and his delineation of the principles of
good leadership in diverse settings. Although these inquiries have illumi-
nated important features of Xenophon’s writings, they tend not to engage
with a significant facet of it, namely, that Xenophon is an Athenian writer
addressing to a large extent an elite Athenian reading audience and that
this context has important implications for our understanding of his
perspective and purposes, and the reception of these by his contempo-
raries. While no one would dispute Xenophon’s Athenian origins and
many would probably acknowledge that his audience was largely Athenian,
relatively few scholars have sought to make sense of his writings in this


For a good overview of what “elite” means in an Athenian context and the attributes associated with
the city’s elite, see Ober : –. In economic terms, elite Athenians could be described as those
individuals who carried out liturgies for the city and paid the irregularly imposed war tax (eisphora),
that is, the wealthiest  percent or so of adult male citizens: see Christ : –.

Several useful collections of essays illustrate how scholars have diversely explored Xenophon’s
writings in recent years: Tuplin ; Hobden and Tuplin ; Flower a; Danzig, Johnson,
and Morrison . Gray  collects some influential essays from  to . On Xenophon’s
view of ideal leadership, see Gray : –, b; Flower , b: ; Buxton ; Ferrario
: –; Marincola : –. Most scholars now take Xenophon seriously as a writer and
thinker, and would reject the assessment of Anderson (: ; cf. Kelly : ) that “one
cannot claim for Xenophon any profound moral or political insights.”
 Introduction 
context. This study seeks to fill this gap and to offer a framework for
understanding the significant portion of Xenophon’s corpus that bears
substantially on Athens and Athenian concerns.
To read Xenophon within his cultural context, it is important first to
appreciate his Athenian roots and affinities and the likelihood that he wrote
largely for an Athenian audience. Although the details of Xenophon’s
biography are sketchy, he was born around  in Athens to a wealthy
family; as a young man he studied with Socrates; and he likely served in the
Athenian cavalry and as a member of it may well have supported the
oligarchic regime of the Thirty in /. His affiliation with the Thirty
may have influenced his decision, after their expulsion, to join Cyrus and
the large band of Greek mercenaries under him in  for what turned out
to be a two-year march into the heart of the Persian Empire and back out
again. Xenophon subsequently served as a mercenary in Asia Minor under a
series of Spartan commanders, including eventually Agesilaus, with whom
he returned to the Greek mainland and apparently fought in the Battle of
Coronea in  against an allied force that included Athenians. This last
action may be what led the Athenians to exile him, if they had not done so
earlier due to his support of Cyrus or of Spartan military ventures in Asia
Minor. As an exile Xenophon lived at Scillus near Olympia under the
protection of the Spartans until their defeat at Leuctra in  and then at
Corinth. Although Xenophon’s exile is said to have been rescinded at some
point, he may not have taken up residence in Athens again; his two sons,
however, fought on the Athenian side at the Battle of Mantinea in ,
where one of them, Gryllus, died as cavalryman. Xenophon was still writing
after the Social War of – (Vect. .; cf. .), but we do not know
how much longer he lived after this.
Even though he was an exile for much of his adult life – and perhaps
especially because of this – Xenophon’s Athenian experience and identity
shapes his literary corpus. This is most conspicuous in his Socratic works,
which are all set in Athens (Apology, Memorabilia, Oeconomicus, and Sym-
posium); his Hellenica, whose first two books focus on Athens; and his


On Xenophon’s life and career, see Flower : –, with earlier bibliography and the ancient
testimonia, including most importantly Diogenes Laertius .–, which cites many earlier
authors; cf. Lee . Gray (:  n. ) challenges the common assumption that Xenophon
served in the cavalry under the Thirty. For the debate concerning the details of Xenophon’s exile, see
Tuplin ; Green ; and Badian : –. Dillery (: –, –) rightly notes that the
evidence is slippery.

For a survey of explicit mentions of Athens in Xenophon’s works, see Tuplin : –. In my
view, Tuplin underestimates the impact of Xenophon’s Athenian experience and identity on his
writings.
 Introduction
treatises Hipparchicus (On the Cavalry Commander) and Poroi (Ways and
Means), both of which offer practical advice to the Athenians. Arguably,
however, even when Athens is not explicitly at the center of his writing,
Xenophon’s interests as an elite Athenian determine the topics he takes up
and how he treats them. For example, his Constitution of the Lacedaemo-
nians reflects a long-standing fascination among elite Athenians with Sparta
as an alternative to Athens. And Xenophon’s enduring interest in aristo-
crats in various guises across space and time – Cyrus the Great in Cyropae-
dia, and the title characters in Hiero and Agesilaus – can be read as, among
other things, a projection and exploration of elite Athenian identity.
There are numerous indications, moreover, that Xenophon views himself
as an active participant in Athens’ literary culture. For example, it seems
that he wrote his Apology and Symposium in direct response to those of Plato
and as part of his rivalry with him over Socrates’ legacy, to which his other
Socratic works also attest (cf. D. L. ., .–). Furthermore, in his Peri
Hippikēs (On Horsemanship), Xenophon explicitly acknowledges that an
Athenian, Simon, has written expertly on the subject, but nonetheless offers
his own treatise as a useful complement to this (.; cf. .). On a much
larger scale, his Hellenica manifestly seeks to continue Thucydides’ Histories
by picking up the history of the Peloponnesian War where Thucydides left
off and giving an account of Greek history down to . And when
Xenophon launches an attack on contemporary sophists in his treatise


Xenophon may also have written Peri Hippikēs (On Horsemanship) especially with an Athenian
audience in mind since he speaks of it (.) as a sort of sequel to Hipparchicus, which is explicitly
addressed to Athenians, and as a complement to the writings of the Athenian Simon (.).
Delebecque (: –) argues that On Horsemanship is not addressed to an Athenian audience,
but the evidence that he cites for this is not compelling.

Although Xenophon idealizes early Sparta in this treatise (pace Humble ), he criticizes
contemporary Sparta for its moral decline (Lac. Pol. ); on the complexity of Xenophon’s view of
Sparta, see Tuplin : . On philolaconism among Athens’ elite, see Carter : –. For
Xenophon’s manifest interest in Sparta as an alternative to Athens, see Mem. ..–; Tuplin
(: ) too quickly rejects the possibility that Xenophon comes at Sparta in the Constitution of
the Lacedaemonians “from an Athenian angle.”

That Xenophon views himself as participating specifically in a literary culture is reflected in the fact
that he frequently refers to the written nature of his work: see Mem. ..; An. .., ..; Eq. .,
., ., ., ., .; Eq. Mag. ., ., .; Lac. Pol. .; Cyn. .. Pomeroy (: )
underestimates Xenophon’s engagement with Athenian literary culture in allowing only that “he
probably read some current Athenian literature.”

Although some scholars argue that Xenophon’s Symposium came first (see Thesleff  and Danzig
), most believe this is not the case (see Huss : –). The rivalry between Xenophon and
Plato may also manifest itself elsewhere, for example, Aulus Gellius (..) claims that Xenophon
began to write his Cyropaedia after the first two books of Plato’s Republic came out (cf. D. L. .);
in any event, Plato may well be responding dismissively to the Cyropaedia at Laws c, as D. L. .
and Ath. .e–a posit (see Danzig b and Flower : ). On Xenophon’s rivalry with
Plato as a Socratic, see Waterfield , with earlier bibliography.
 Introduction 
Cynegeticus (On Hunting) and distinguishes his own approach and values
from theirs (.–), he is likely alluding to sophists in contemporary
Athens; this polemic both sets Xenophon apart from one group of
participants in Athenian literary culture (he specifically criticizes their
“writings”: .–) and puts him in the company of “the philosophers”
with whom he contrasts the sophists (., ; cf. Vect. .) – this group
would presumably include Plato and Isocrates, who also lambaste sophists
in their works (cf. .). The tradition that Isocrates wrote an encomium
of Xenophon’s son Gryllus after his death at Mantinea (Hermippus fr. 
Wehrli apud D. L. .), if based in fact, may reflect recognition of
Xenophon’s membership in Athens’ literary community as much as any
personal connection between him and Isocrates. Although Xenophon, as
a longtime exile from his city, could not participate directly in the life of the
city, his literary works allowed him to do so from a distance.
The substantial orientation of Xenophon’s corpus toward Athenian
topics and concerns and his self-conscious participation in Athenian liter-
ary culture suggest that Xenophon was writing especially with an Athenian
audience in mind. This is not to say that literate Greeks elsewhere could
not have read and enjoyed Xenophon; they presumably did. But Athens,
given its size, prosperity, and thriving literary culture, probably had the
largest reading audience in the Greek world at this time, and the Athenian
orientation of many of Xenophon’s works made them especially appropri-
ate for this audience. This readership would have consisted primarily of
elite Athenians, who had sufficient wealth and leisure to attain a high level
of literacy through their education, could afford to purchase books, and


Gray () makes a strong case that Cynegeticus is an authentic Xenophontic work, pace Classen
: . Xenophon is not uniformly hostile to sophists in his writings: see Dorion : –.
As Dillery (: –; cf. L’Allier ) observes, Xenophon at times deploys sophistic
language in his critique of sophists in Cynegeticus.

Cf. Tuplin : –.

Pace Thomas (: –), who argues that Xenophon’s polemic targets Plato. On Xenophon,
Plato, and Isocrates, see Tuplin : –. Xenophon not only links himself to philosophers in
this diatribe, but also associates himself with Thucydides when he speaks of the utility and
importance of his work for future generations (.; cf. Thuc. ..).

Cf. Flower : . Although Azoulay (a: ) views this encomium as evidence of cordial
relations between Isocrates and Xenophon, who were fellow demesmen, Xenophon’s literary stature
may have been the impetus for it. According to Diogenes Laertius (.), “Aristotle says that there
were innumerable authors of eulogies and epitaphs for Gryllus, who wrote in part at least to gratify
his father” (fr.  Rose); Pausanias (.., .., ..) reports that there was a painting of
Gryllus wounding Epaminondas in the Stoa of Zeus Eleutherios in Athens.

Flower (: ; cf. Due : ; Pomeroy : ) is more cautious on the question of
Xenophon’s audience: “This surely included his fellow Athenians as well as Greeks from other
cities.”
 Introduction
may have congregated with men of their class in social settings for reading
aloud from them. The fourth century witnessed a surge in the produc-
tion and presumably also in the reading of prose works in Athens,
including philosophical, oratorical, and historical texts. Although elite
Athenian readers no doubt differed in their tastes, Xenophon’s corpus may
have held particularly wide appeal among them since it was diverse and
accessible and it focused on activities – including hunting, horsemanship,
estate management, and political and military leadership – that were of
broad interest to upper-class Athenians and central to their personal and
collective identities.
Two further features of Xenophon’s writings may have broadened their
appeal among elite Athenians: their moderate perspective on the Athenian
democracy, with which the city’s elite seem to have made their peace for
the most part by the early fourth century, and their extensive attention to
how elite Athenians can succeed within a democratic polity. Although
many scholars have viewed Xenophon as a conservative aristocrat and
oligarch who opposed the Athenian democracy, recent scholarship has
challenged this assessment, arguing that while Xenophon is sometimes
critical of the democracy, he is restrained in his criticism. Particularly
telling is his depiction of Athens in the opening books of his Hellenica:
although Xenophon’s portrayal of the Athenian people (dēmos) in the
Arginusae affair is critical (..–), his depiction of the oligarchic junta
of the Thirty is scathing (.–), and his admiration of the Amnesty of
, which the dēmos passed at the conclusion of the Athenian civil war
(..), suggests that in his view the democracy proved itself to be

On the nexus of wealth and literacy in Athens, see Harris : –; on reading as a marker of
elite status and culture in classical antiquity, see Johnson : –. On the expense of books in
Athens, see Harris : –. On “reading circles” in Athens, see Kelly ; Johnson :
–; Thomas : ; on the communal character of reading in Greece and Rome, see
Johnson  and .

On the growth of book culture in fourth-century Athens, see Harris : –; Knox :
–; Morgan : –; Kurke ; Thomas : , ; Pinto . Xenophon himself
provides a glimpse of a flourishing book culture in Athens in his satirical portrayal of Euthydemos as
book collector (see Mem. .., with Pinto : ) and perhaps of the inter-polis book trade in his
description of “many books” washed up from a shipwreck on the Black Sea coast (An. ..).

Waterfield (: –) proposes that Xenophon, in his Socratic corpus, is engaged in popularizing
philosophy. On the potentially wide appeal of Xenophon and Isocrates in the “moral education” of
the elite, see Pownall .

See Luccioni : –; Anderson : ; Waterfield and Cartledge : ix; Hunt :
–; Pownall : , : –; Brock : –; Tamiolaki : –; cf.
Bevilacqua : , . Kroeker (: –) provides a useful survey of scholarship on
Xenophon’s political perspective.

See Waterfield : –; Kroeker ; Gray a; Tuplin : –; cf. Seager :
, –; Badian : –; McCloskey .
 Introduction 
superior to the oligarchy of the Thirty. In keeping with Xenophon’s own
moderate perspective on the democracy is his admiring portrayal of
Socrates, who objects to the democratic use of sortition (Mem. ..–)
and has some unkind words about the average men who participate in the
Athenian Assembly (..), but is nonetheless, “one of the people and a
friend of mankind” (dēmotikos kai philanthropos, ..). On balance, it
seems right to view Xenophon as an “immanent” or “internal” critic of the
democracy, who seeks to improve rather than overthrow it, and not as a
“rejectionist” or “external” critic of it.
For Xenophon – and arguably for most members of his elite Athenian
reading audience – the pressing question is not how the elite can alter the
city’s democratic constitution, but rather how they can succeed under it,
and Xenophon addresses this at great length and in a variety of ways in his
writings. The city’s elite played a significant role in providing leadership,
especially as orators (rhētores) and generals, under the democracy; this was
vital for the success of the democracy and an important way for elite
Athenians to win honor and prestige, and the social and political advan-
tages that attended these. Xenophon, as we shall see, offers his elite
Athenian readers an education in the values, knowledge, and skills that
they will need to lead the democracy effectively.
A striking feature of Xenophon’s communications with his elite Athe-
nian readership is his rejection of the arrogant assumption that men of the
upper class deserve to lead within the city because of their wealth or high
birth. Xenophon insists that the city’s elite are not automatically qualified
to lead but must seek out an education that will make them worthy of
leading – a traditional aristocratic education does not suffice for this.


See Gray : –, a: –, and Kroeker : –. Chapter  examines in detail
Xenophon’s treatment of these episodes.

On the sortition passage, see Gray a: –; on the Assembly passage, see ibid. – and
Kroeker : –. Gray (a: –, –; cf. Kroeker : –) makes a strong case
against earlier scholars, including Luccioni : – and Vlastos : –, that Xenophon
portrays Socrates as “democratic in the broadest sense” (), and posits that “Xenophon’s own
attitudes to democracy are even more democratic than those of his Socrates” ().

For the categorization of political criticism in these terms, see Walzer , . Ober (:
–) productively applies Walzer’s terminology to the analysis of Athenian critics of popular rule,
but does not treat Xenophon in his study. Kroeker (: –), building on Ober, draws on this
terminology in his assessment of Xenophon’s political stance, arguing (; cf. –) that
although Xenophon “tended strongly towards an internal/immanent critique, his Lac. exhibits a
decidedly external/rejectionist stance”; Gray (a: –), however, makes a good case that this
work need not be viewed as rejectionist.

On the substantial role of the elite in the city’s political life, see Ober : –, and passim, and
Hansen : –.

On education as an elite marker and source of elite pride, see Ober : –, –.
 Introduction
In so doing, they must actively transform themselves and revise their
understanding of what it means to be a gentleman (kalos kagathos). Rather
than reinforce elite notions of superiority, privilege, and entitlement,
Xenophon exposes their absurdity. If Xenophon is in some sense an
“immanent” critic of the Athenian democracy, he is more conspicuously
an “immanent” critic of men of his own class, as he takes the city’s elite to
task for their failure to fulfill the roles they should within the city, and
offers often pointed advice on how they can lead responsibly. While this
entails deflating elite egos, Xenophon suggests that those who embrace this
vision can take control of themselves and their circumstances and achieve
prominence in the city. Empowerment of this sort, however, demands first
humility and self-knowledge, and a willingness to learn from those who
have a superior understanding of good leadership and its underpinnings,
like Xenophon and his Socrates.
Although scholars have tended not to explore in detail Xenophon’s
relationship with his elite Athenian audience and the nature of his com-
munications with them, there are some notable exceptions. Steven
Johnstone (), for example, proposes that Xenophon formulates for
his elite readers a vision of “aristocratic style” to which only they have
access through the elite lifestyle and culture that he sets forth as a model for
them. In my view, although Johnstone is right to posit that Xenophon
engages with the problem of elite identity, he is mistaken in his assessment
of Xenophon’s perspective and intent. Xenophon is not concerned so
much with “aristocratic style” – even broadly conceived – as with educat-
ing his readers in the values, knowledge, and skills they need to lead the
democracy responsibly; and he is not a defender of class interests who seeks
merely to defend and preserve elite prerogatives and power, but a critic of
elite arrogance who insists that members of the elite must substantially
transform themselves to be worthy of leading democratic Athens.


Cf. Ferrario : : “his generally pro-aristocratic perspective tends often to manifest itself in a
call to class-appropriate political and social responsibility.”

This reading of Xenophon as an author who accepts the legitimacy of the Athenian democracy and
seeks to communicate openly and directly to a broad elite audience how they can succeed within it
diverges radically from that of Leo Strauss, who envisions Xenophon as an opponent of the democracy
who conveys his views cryptically to an elite philosophical few. In general, elite writers in Athens were
free to communicate as they saw fit with their reading audiences under the democracy and had no
need to conceal their real intent from their readers (see Ober : –, –); and Xenophon’s
program for reforming the city’s elite is hardly veiled from his reader, as he develops it in detail and
openly across much of his corpus. For criticism of Strauss’ approach to Xenophon, see Dorion :
–, –; cf. Gray b: –; Rood ; Flower b: –. Johnson (: –,
–) offers a more positive appraisal of the Straussian approach.

For further discussion of Johnstone’s position, see Chapter .
 Introduction 
In advancing this perspective on Xenophon’s “message” for his elite
Athenian audience, I build on Ryan Balot’s () perceptive analysis of
this. Balot rejects Johnstone’s vision of Xenophon as “elaborating a certain
model of aristocratic ‘style’: a style of life to which only the wealthy have
access,” and argues that “Xenophon’s rehabilitation of aristocratic worth
proceeds primarily on the basis of claims about aristocratic civic value and
moral character” (). In my view, Balot is right to point to Xenophon’s
deep concern with moral excellence among the elite and to emphasize that
“Xenophon is concerned to educate the upper classes to become responsible
and effective leaders” (). I do not believe, however, that Xenophon’s
project entails a “rehabilitation of aristocratic worth” and a “reinvention of
the aristocratic political ideal” (). Although Xenophon is conscious of
class difference and addresses his elite peers in terms that are meaningful to
them, in my view he is not promoting specifically aristocratic worth or an
aristocratic political ideal that would differentiate members of the elite from
other citizens. Rather, he urges members of the elite to embrace basic values
that are not class specific and to apply these in serving the democratic city
responsibly. He seeks more to integrate the elite within the city than to
differentiate them from their fellow citizens on the basis of shared values or
political ideology. In Xenophon’s view, while elite Athenians enjoy many
advantages – not least access to education (cf. Cyr. ..) – and this means
members of the elite are more likely than average citizens to play leadership
roles in the city, they are bound to other citizens by common interests and
goals as members of a civic community. Although Xenophon in my view
stops well short of expressing, as Ron Kroeker () suggests, “a solidarity
with the foundational ideology of the democratic regime,” he offers
pragmatic advice to the city’s elite concerning how they can improve their
own situation, along with that of their fellow citizens, by providing effective
leadership within the democracy.


Balot (: –) speaks of the need for “rehabilitation” and “reinvention” in the context of the
calamitous rule of the Thirty that undercut elite claims to innate virtue and political superiority.

It is important to note, however, that while Xenophon is deeply concerned with the moral
excellence of the elite, as Balot posits, he is equally concerned that elite citizens acquire the
knowledge and practical skills that they need to lead well, and this sets him apart from other elite
writers.

Kroeker (:  [abstract]; cf. –) posits: “his works seem to express a sympathy for the
democracy that extends beyond a patriotic desire for the betterment of his native city regardless of
constitution to a solidarity with the foundational ideology of the democratic regime.”

Seager (: ; cf. –) rightly observes that Xenophon “makes greater allowance for the
claims of the individual, his reputation, family, and friends, than is customary in democratic
discourse.”
 Introduction
In the analysis that follows, I focus on the works of Xenophon that best
illuminate his Athenian interests and his engagement with his elite Athe-
nian audience. Although this means that most of the chapters are devoted
to works that have a manifest link to Athens, a chapter on the Anabasis
proposes that it is shaped much more by Athenian concerns and interests
than has been recognized and that it brings together many features of
Xenophon’s explicitly Athenian reflections.
Although each chapter of this study treats a different Xenophontic
work (and in the case of one chapter, two works), the sequence of chapters
is determined by my argument rather than the order in which the works
may have been written. Some Xenophontic works or parts of these can be
fairly securely dated, but we are not in a position to assert with
confidence the sequence of each work within Xenophon’s literary pro-
duction. This is unfortunate since it would be interesting to track the
evolution of Xenophon’s thinking and its relation to what we know, or
think we know, of his career and experiences. Nonetheless, while we
cannot discern how Xenophon’s thought developed over time, we can
still identify persistent concerns and the different ways in which Xeno-
phon addresses these across his corpus.
Indeed, a primary objective of this study is to demonstrate that Xeno-
phon advances a fairly coherent and consistent vision of how elite Athe-
nians should live their lives within the democracy and provide leadership
to it across a range of generically diverse works that were presumably
composed at different times. My approach, which could be described as
holistic and synthetic, is to seek out continuities across works that on the
face of it are sometimes quite different from one another so as to illuminate
Xenophon’s educational agenda and political perspective. To be sure,
Xenophon is not always entirely consistent, but I believe that we can
better understand Xenophon’s thinking and objectives by identifying
and analyzing the significant threads that connect his works to one
another. In my view, Xenophon’s Athenian works have too often been
viewed in isolation from one another, and this has been an obstacle to
understanding each of them individually and the larger corpus of which
they are a part.
Xenophon’s profound interest in the proper role of the elite within the
Athenian democracy is perhaps not surprising for a thoughtful man of his


For a pithy summary of “a few secure points” in dating Xenophontic works, see Lee : –.

Cf. Flower b: : “It might be better, therefore, to lay aside the question of chronology, and
concentrate on the construction of meaning across the corpus.”
 Introduction 
class who came to maturity during the latter part of the Peloponnesian War
when tensions ran high between the elite and the dēmos, and oligarchic
regimes, supported by members of the elite, seized power in  (the Four
Hundred) and / (the Thirty). Although we know very little about
Xenophon’s personal experience during this period, the first two books of
the Hellenica recount the tumultuous history of Athens from  to 
and provide a window on Xenophon’s perspective on the democracy and
the role of the elite within it. Chapter  examines Xenophon’s portrayal of
the Athenian elite in the opening books of the Hellenica. It suggests that his
presentation of the Arginusae episode (), in which the Athenian dēmos
executed six of its generals without trial, focuses not so much on the
behavior of the dēmos as on the essential role of elite Athenians in advising
the dēmos. This chapter then considers how Xenophon, despite his attrac-
tion to oligarchy as an alternative to democracy, presents a dark picture of
the regime of the Thirty and its rapid descent into violence and lawlessness,
and hails the restoration of the democracy as a return to normalcy and
harmony in the city. This episode is key to understanding Xenophon’s
political perspective: the manifest failure of the city’s elite to offer a
reasonable alternative to democracy means that for Xenophon the central
political question for elite Athenians of his time is not how to overthrow the
city’s democratic constitution but how to provide the democracy with the
leadership it needs to succeed. Indeed, Xenophon’s portrayal of several elite
Athenian leaders in the opening books of the Hellenica provides some
important indications of what Xenophon regards as capable and responsible
elite leadership of the dēmos.
Xenophon explores elite leadership of the democracy extensively in his
Socratic writings, which are the focus of the next three chapters. Chapter 
argues that Xenophon’s interest in the political role of the elite is especially
conspicuous in the Memorabilia, where he portrays Socrates interacting
critically with members of the Athenian elite and seeking to motivate and
guide them to become worthy of the leadership roles that fall to them
under the democracy. Although Xenophon frames the Memorabilia as a
defense of Socrates from the charges that led to his execution in ,
within this framework he considers in detail how elite Athenians can
thoroughly prepare for, and effectively carry out, essential public roles,
especially that of orator and of military commander. Xenophon’s Socrates,
in his conversations with elite Athenians, exposes how absurd it is for them
to believe that they deserve to lead the city merely on the basis of their
wealth or lineage, and urges them to seek out through education the
values, knowledge, and skills that they need to lead well. In so doing, he
 Introduction
challenges his elite interlocutors to alter their understanding of what it
means to be a gentleman (kalos kagathos) and to reconcile this with being
good citizens who contribute to the success of the democratic city espe-
cially by providing good leadership. If Xenophon’s Socrates works to
enlighten his elite interlocutors of the late fifth century concerning their
essential role in leading the democracy, Xenophon plays an analogous role
with his fourth-century elite reading audience, as he brings before them in
his Memorabilia and other Socratic works Socrates’ wisdom concerning the
proper role of the elite within the city.
Xenophon’s project to educate elite Athenians so they can be good
citizens and leaders within the democracy takes a different tack in another
of his Socratic works, the Oeconomicus, which is the focus of Chapter .
This work examines how elite Athenians should manage their individual
households and estates (oikoi), and makes the case that they should set
aside aristocratic disdain for work and money-making, and actively seek to
become successful estate managers and entrepreneurs. This will benefit
them personally in a variety of ways: the work they undertake will make
them physically stronger and healthier, build character, and give them the
resources they need to support an elite lifestyle. At the same time, however,
this will make them better citizens of the democracy, who will more
effectively serve the city as hoplites and cavalrymen and perform a range
of other civic roles: the wealth that they accrue will allow them to carry out
liturgies for the city, and the managerial skills they develop will make them
better leaders of the city. Indeed, Xenophon portrays the oikos as a
microcosm of the city in which members of the elite can hone the skills
that they will need to lead the city effectively. Socrates figures prominently
in the Oeconomicus, as in the Memorabilia, as a critic of destructive elite
values and behaviors and a proponent of reconceptualizing what it means
to be a “gentleman” in light of the good citizenship needed from the elite;
his account of his conversation with Ischomachus, a successful farmer who
has arranged his life and estate so as to make himself healthy, wealthy, and
ready to serve his city, offers elite Athenians a model for transforming
themselves into “gentlemen” in the true sense of the word.
Xenophon’s preoccupation with the place of elite citizens in the dem-
ocratic city is further confirmed in the Symposium, where he presents his
Socrates tirelessly pursuing his political project of transforming members
of the elite into good citizens and leaders of the city even at an elite dinner
party. Chapter  argues that notwithstanding the Symposium’s debt to its
more famous Platonic predecessor, Xenophon exploits the symposiastic
setting to serve his own purposes and interests, as Socrates, assisted by
 Introduction 
Antisthenes, seeks to educate Callias, a super-rich Athenian, concerning
proper elite values and behavior in the democracy. Callias’ naive assump-
tions concerning his wealth and its capacities are challenged and laid bare,
and ultimately Socrates instructs him on how he can live up to the high
expectations of a man of wealth and high birth by seeking political
knowledge, pursuing leadership positions within the city, and fostering
the same ambitions in the boy Autolycus, whom he loves, within the
context of a mutually supportive friendship (philia). As such, the Sympo-
sium constitutes a case study in the education of a conspicuous member of
the Athenian elite concerning the political role to which he should aspire
within the city. Although Xenophon portrays Callias as a challenging
student to educate, he shows his Socrates doing his best to recruit a
prominent elite Athenian to serve the democratic city.
If Xenophon employs Socrates’ conversations with elite Athenians as a
vehicle for communicating with his reading audience concerning their
responsibilities within the democracy, he adopts a more direct approach
to this in his Hipparchicus and his Poroi, where he addresses his readers in
his own voice as an expert who can help them succeed in specific leader-
ship roles. Chapter  considers first Xenophon’s advice in Hipparchicus
concerning how a cavalry commander can best carry out this important
elected office for the democratic city. Although this work advises on
everything from the care of horses’ hooves to the planning of parade
formations, it also sketches out strategies by which a cavalry commander
can overcome the social and political challenges that he faces, and in so
doing illustrates how an elite leader can maneuver and succeed in a
democratic setting. Xenophon’s ideal cavalry commander is an astute
political actor who carefully and self-consciously manages his relations
with individuals, the Council, and the public at large; and while he seeks
to carry out his duties in keeping with existing democratic institutions and
rules, he also works to modify these when this will benefit the city.
This chapter then turns to the Poroi, a “pamphlet” written soon after
Athens’ disastrous Social War (–) in which Xenophon seeks to
persuade his elite Athenian readers, as actual or potential leaders within the
city, to work to implement far-ranging reforms that will improve the city’s
finances and its situation at home and abroad. The proposed reforms,
which Xenophon sets out in detail, seek to provide all Athenian citizens
with a daily payment of three obols and thus eliminate the need for
Athenians to seek profit abroad through aggression. Wealthy Athenians
play a central role in these reforms: instead of spending their fortunes on
supporting the city’s military ventures abroad as payers of the war tax
 Introduction
(eisphora), they will contribute capital to foster entrepreneurial enterprises
that will create revenues for the city and profit for themselves. As Xeno-
phon presents his program of reforms, he provides his elite readers with the
arguments on which they can draw to win its passage in the Athenian
Assembly. In modeling for them how they, as democratic rhētores, can
improve the city’s situation dramatically, Xenophon shows himself to be
knowledgeable about not only the city’s finances but also how to deploy
rhetoric to achieve change within the democracy.
Xenophon’s deep interest in the role of elite Athenians in the demo-
cratic city is evident not only in his manifestly Athenian works where this
is an explicit concern but also elsewhere in his corpus, most notably in his
Anabasis, on which Chapter  focuses. Although this work tells the story of
how the Ten Thousand, a band of Greek mercenaries, marched with
Cyrus into the heart of the Persian Empire in  and found their way
back out of it two years later after overcoming many challenges, Xeno-
phon’s account is profoundly affected by his Athenian experience and his
strong interest in elite political behavior within the Athenian democracy.
The Anabasis broadly evokes the political situation in Athens and the
complex interactions of mass and elite there as Xenophon depicts the
importance of, and challenges for, elite leadership in the quasi-democratic
setting of the Cyrean army. In setting forth how a versatile elite Athenian –
Xenophon himself – succeeds as a leader of the Cyreans, it confirms in
action the principles that Xenophon lays down elsewhere for effective elite
leadership within the Athenian democracy. The Anabasis, however, also
elaborates on a key facet of elite leadership of the masses that Xenophon
only touches on more briefly in his Athenian works, namely, the critical
role of persuasion and rhetoric. Significantly, it portrays Xenophon not
just as a talented general but as a capable democratic orator who wins over
the Cyrean masses in deliberative and forensic contexts that recall their
Athenian analogs. Xenophon thus provides his elite Athenian readers with
a model of successful leadership that they can emulate within the
democratic city.
A concluding chapter considers the implications of this study for under-
standing both Xenophon and his elite Athenian audience. It proposes that
while Xenophon’s message to his readers is fairly straightforward – elite
Athenians have a special role to play as leaders of the democracy, and must
therefore seek through education to develop the values, knowledge, and
skills that will make them worthy to lead the city – it was highly relevant in
the aftermath of the disastrous reign of the Thirty, and Xenophon’s
advancement of this in diverse ways across his corpus was original and
 Introduction 
significant. Xenophon offers this advice not because he has great confidence
in democratic institutions, but rather because he is committed to Athens’
stability and prosperity and believes that his elite peers can advance the
common good along with their own interests. Xenophon’s direct and
strong appeal to his readers’ interests, in fact, may tell us something not
only about his rhetorical strategies as author but also about the psychology
and outlook of elite Athenians, who can be seen elsewhere in our sources to
be highly attuned to their personal and financial interests even as they carry
out civic roles within the democratic city.
  

Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica

A natural starting point for inquiring into Xenophon’s perspective on the

Athenian democracy and the place of the elite within it is his account of
Athens’ tumultuous history in the last decade of the fifth century in the
opening books of the Hellenica. Xenophon portrays Athens undergoing a
series of crises in the late years of the Peloponnesian War, including the
execution of six of its generals without trial after their naval victory at
Arginusae (), the violent rule of the oligarchic Thirty (/), and the
civil war that ensued and led to the restoration of the democracy (). In
depicting these events, Xenophon provides important clues concerning his
view of the proper role of the elite within Athens. His account suggests
that while he is critical of aspects of democratic rule, the violence and
destruction wrought by the Thirty convinces him that the city’s elite
should stop seeking to overthrow the democracy and devote their energies
instead to providing responsible leadership within the democratic city.
Xenophon’s account of Athens in crisis occupies a privileged position in
his Hellenica, filling much of the first two of its seven books that recount
the history of the Greek world at war from  to . It appears that
Xenophon, as an Athenian, viewed these events as momentous, and his
Athenian reading audience no doubt also did. Xenophon may also have
had a personal stake in how Athenians viewed this period if he served as a
member of the cavalry under the Thirty. In any event, Xenophon’s
account of Athenian history in the last decade of the fifth century allows
us to assess his perspective on democracy and its alternatives in Athens and
to begin to understand why he devotes so much attention in his other
writings to the essential role of the elite within the democracy.
This chapter considers first how Xenophon presents a critical, but not
devastating, view of the Athenian people (dēmos) in the Arginusae episode,
and argues that his account focuses as much on the problem of elite

On the possibility that Xenophon served in the cavalry under the Thirty, see the Introduction.


 The Arginusae Affair 
leadership within the democracy as it does on the shortcomings of the
Athenian dēmos. Next, it turns to Xenophon’s depiction of the brutal
regime of the Thirty and argues that while Xenophon is sympathetic
toward those who sought to establish a moderate oligarchy in Athens, he
is acutely aware that this enterprise went badly awry in the hands of the
Thirty and accepts, therefore, that Athens will remain a democracy.
Finally, it proposes that Xenophon’s largely positive portrayal of several
elite Athenian leaders in the opening books of the Hellenica suggests how
the elite, working within democratic structures, can provide competent
and responsible leadership to the democratic city.

The Arginusae Affair

Xenophon’s basic account of the Arginusae affair of  is fairly straight-
forward (..–..). When the Athenians learned that their general
Conon and his fleet were blockaded at Mytilene, they swiftly mounted an
extraordinary rescue expedition of  ships that proceeded to win a major
victory over a large Peloponnesian fleet off the Arginusae islands opposite
Mytilene. The Athenian generals then delegated to the trierarchs
Theramenes and Thrasybulus, along with others, to sail with forty-seven
ships to rescue the survivors of the twenty-five Athenian ships lost in the
battle while they themselves proceeded to attack the ships that were
blockading Conon and his forces at Mytilene. A storm developed, how-
ever, and made it impossible for the rescuers to carry out their charge. The
Athenians deposed the eight generals present at Arginusae, six of whom
returned to Athens where they faced an angry public. The dēmos, spurred
on especially by Theramenes and the demagogue Callixeinus, condemned
the generals without trial and ordered that they be executed, notwith-
standing the passionate appeal of Euryptolemus to try the generals indi-
vidually in accordance with the city’s laws. When the dēmos later regretted
its decision, it indicted and detained Callixeinus and four others who were
deemed culpable for what had transpired, but these men all escaped due to
civic turmoil; when Callixeinus later returned to Athens, “he was hated by
everybody and died of starvation” (..).


Many scholars believe on the basis of stylistic considerations that Xenophon wrote Books –..,
which includes his account of Arginusae, at an earlier date than the other books of the Hellenica. For
a survey of this scholarship and a challenge to it, see Gray .

Whereas Xenophon speaks of the rescue of survivors, Diodorus Siculus (..) refers to the
retrieval of corpses. It is possible the rescuers were meant to aid the survivors and to retrieve corpses
as well.
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
Xenophon’s general perspective on the episode is clear. Early in his
account, he states in his own voice that the storm prevented the rescue of
the survivors (..), and thus reveals that in his view the efforts that
ensued to punish the generals were unfair. Xenophon later has
Euryptolemus, whom, as we shall see, he portrays as a model statesman,
assert emphatically in the course of his speech that rescue was impossible
and it would be unjust therefore to punish the generals (..–) and
impious as well (.., ). In presenting the situation in these terms,
Euryptolemus appears to confirm Xenophon’s own judgment.
Although most scholars agree that Xenophon portrays this as a dark
episode for the Athenian democracy, they diverge in assessing how dark his
presentation is and what it conveys about his view of the democracy and its
viability as a political enterprise. In my view, while Xenophon is critical of
the role of the dēmos in this episode, he stops short of blaming the
democracy per se and suggests that responsible elite leadership may be
able to rein in the excesses of the dēmos even if this was not the case on
this occasion.
Let us first consider closely how Xenophon portrays the dēmos and its
role in the Arginusae affair. The picture is not a flattering one. The
Athenian people are clearly angry at the generals for failing to rescue the
survivors of Arginusae, and lash out at those who stand in the way of their
wish to punish the generals without a trial in accordance with the proposal
brought forward by Callixeinus:
Euryptolemus the son of Peisianax and some others served a summons
against Callixeinus, alleging that he had made an illegal proposal. Although
some members of the dēmos praised this, the majority cried out that it was a
terrible thing if someone would not allow the dēmos to do whatever it


Pownall (: ) suggests that “Xenophon’s inclusion of the element of impiety only in
Euryptolemus’ speech and not in the narrative portion of the episode indicates that perhaps he
feels that this allegation is somewhat more tenuous than that of illegality.” Euryptolemus’ concerns
over impiety, however, are fully consistent with Xenophon’s emphasis in his writings on piety as an
important value (see Mem. ..–, ..–, ..–; Oec. .–; Smp. .–; An. ..).

Thus, for example, Pownall (: ) suggests that Xenophon slants his narrative to make the
dēmos appear in the worst light, whereas Kroeker (: ) posits that “[t]he narrative . . . seems to
contain elements of both blame and exoneration” of the dēmos. Most historians, based on the
accounts of the Arginusae affair in Xenophon and Diodorus Siculus, have taken this episode as one
of the darkest moments for democratic Athens; Gish (:  n. ) collects some of these modern
assessments.

On the tense relations between generals and the dēmos during the Peloponnesian War, see Hamel
: –; cf. Asmonti . Hunt (: ) speculates that Theramenes may have capitalized
on a public backlash against the generals for their role in giving slaves citizenship en masse to help
man the fleet that fought at Arginusae (cf. ..).
 The Arginusae Affair 
wished. When Lyciscus then said that these men also should be judged by
the same vote as the generals, unless they withdrew their summons, the
mob (ho ochlos) broke out again with shouts, and they were compelled to
withdraw this. When some of the Prytanes refused to put the proposal to a
vote on the grounds that it was contrary to the law, Callixeinus again
mounted the platform and brought the same accusations against them;
and the crowd cried out to summon to court those who had refused. The
Prytanes, stricken with fear, agreed to put the proposal to a vote – all of
them except Socrates the son of Sophroniscus, who said that in no case
would he act except in accordance with the law. (..–)
Acting as a mob, the dēmos intimidates those who oppose it, and although
it vacillates and nearly spares the generals, it is misled and deceived by
some of those addressing it and ultimately votes for condemnation.
Dustin Gish argues that Xenophon’s account of the dēmos’ behavior is
not dark, as most scholars believe, but rather shows a spirited public acting
legitimately in defense of popular sovereignty. He posits that the dēmos is
reasonably exercising its authority within the city to act against oligarchic
threats to democratic rule and that Xenophon’s portrayal of the dēmos is
neutral rather than critical. This is not persuasive. Xenophon makes no
mention of the dēmos’ concern over oligarchic plots that may explain or
justify its actions, and his characterization of the dēmos is unmistakably
critical: it acts as a mob (ochlos), shouts out repeatedly in anger, and
threatens and intimidates those who oppose its will. So too in the
Anabasis, Xenophon sometimes depicts the Cyrean army in its camp as a
potentially dangerous mob that can turn on its leaders, including Xeno-
phon himself. Indeed, there is some overlap between Xenophon’s


Gish : , , –, –.

Oligarchic threats: Gish : –, –. Neutral portrayal of the dēmos: ibid. –.

Although ochlos can be used neutrally of a crowd (Gish :  n. ), it appears to be used
pejoratively here; Xenophon first refers to the people in the Assembly as the dēmos (..), but
then speaks of them as an ochlos (..) as they become more agitated (cf. Krentz :  and
Pownall : ).

While it is true that Athenians regularly cry out and interrupt speakers in the Assembly and popular
courts (Gish : –), Xenophon calls attention to the agitation of the Athenians by referring
three times in rapid succession to their shouting (..–). Although Xenophon “never uses the
word ‘anger’ to describe the character of the dēmos at any time in the whole affair” (Gish : ),
he portrays it behaving angrily here and explicitly refers to this in the Memorabilia, when he
describes how Socrates, who was serving as one of the Prytanes on this occasion, resisted the angry
dēmos (..).

The readiness of the dēmos to punish those challenging the legality of Callixeinus’ decree compels
(ēnagkasthēsan) them to withdraw their challenge (..), and its demand that the resistant
Prytanes face trial evokes fear (phobēthentes) from them and leads all of them but Socrates to
yield (..–).

See Chapter .
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
characterization of the dēmos in the Arginusae episode and the equation of
democracy with mob rule that is found in other elite writers.
The important question here is not whether this account is critical of
the dēmos – it surely is – but what the nature of the criticism is and what
the implications of this are for understanding Xenophon’s view of the
democracy. This episode illustrates how, under certain conditions,
the dēmos may succumb to its emotions and act as a mob, asserting the
primacy of its collective will, intimidating opponents, and acting irrespon-
sibly and unjustly. Notably, Xenophon does not assert that this sort of
extreme behavior on the part of the dēmos is typical. In fact, what troubles
Xenophon is the dēmos’ striking deviation from its regular conduct of
public business in accordance with its laws. His Euryptolemus thus
reminds the public of the range of laws available under which they could
try the generals individually (..–), and invokes as a paradigm of
Athenian lawfulness and restraint the case of Aristarchus, who had partic-
ipated in the oligarchy of the Four Hundred in :
You would do a terrible thing if after you granted to Aristarchus, who tried
to destroy the democracy and then betrayed Oinoe to your enemies the
Thebans, a day to defend himself in whatever manner he wished, and did
everything else in his trial in accordance with the law, if, I say, you now
deprive these generals, who have done everything according to your wishes
and defeated the enemy, of these same legal privileges. Do no such thing,
men of Athens, and guard the laws, which are your own and above all else
have made you great, and do not try to do anything without them.
(..–)
Euryptolemus seeks to bring the dēmos back to what he represents as its
characteristic respect for the laws as the foundation of the democracy,
which it maintained even when responding to an oligarchic revolutionary
and traitor like Aristarchus.
In keeping with this picture of traditional democratic regard for lawful-
ness is Xenophon’s depiction of how the rules and protocols of the
Assembly, Council, and popular courts are, up to a point, meticulously
observed in the matter of the generals. First, the Assembly deposes the
generals (..), as is its prerogative (cf. [Arist.] Ath. Pol. .). After six of
the generals return to Athens, Archedemus, a leader of the dēmos, prose-
cutes one of them, Erasinides, before a popular court on the charge that
“he had in his possession money from the Hellespont that belonged to the


See [X.] Ath. Pol. .; Hdt. ..–; Thuc. ..; cf. Pl. Gorg. a.

For a good analysis of the rules and protocols involved at each point, see Ostwald : –.
 The Arginusae Affair 
dēmos; he accused him, further, of misconduct as general,” and the court
imprisoned him (..). After this lawful proceeding, the remaining gen-
erals speak before the Council about what transpired at Arginusae, and the
Council, on the motion of Timocrates, determines that they should be
imprisoned and turned over to the Assembly (..). At the ensuing
Assembly meeting, Theramenes argues that the generals should “render
an account” (..), presumably before a law court, and the generals
speak briefly in their own defense, “for in conformity with the law no
opportunity was given them to make a speech” (..). The Assembly
decides to postpone its deliberation to another meeting since it is getting
too dark to take a vote by show of hands and calls on the Council to “draft
and bring in a proposal regarding the manner in which the men should be
tried” (..). Only at this point is an orderly and lawful democratic
process compromised as Theramenes and his supporters bribe Callixeinus
to accuse the generals in the Council and bring forward a proposal, which
the Council approves, that the Assembly should vote immediately on the
collective guilt of the generals, and if they are found guilty, have them
executed and their property confiscated (..–). And then in the
Assembly, the angry dēmos interferes with normal democratic process when
it prevents Euryptolemus from indicting Callixeinus for making an illegal
proposal and coerces the Prytanes, despite their resistance, to proceed
with debate concerning Callixeinus’ proposal. Even at this point, however,
democratic procedure is not wholly abandoned. Debate over the proposal
proceeds in accordance with democratic principles, and Euryptolemus is
allowed to speak at length in defense of the generals and to offer his own
proposal that the generals be tried individually under the severe terms of
the Decree of Cannonus. Xenophon reports: “The vote being now taken
as between these two proposals, they decided at first in favor of the
resolution of Euryptolemus; but when Menecles interposed an objection
under oath and a second vote was taken, they decided in favor of that of
the Council” (..). Only then did they condemn the generals, and put
to death the six who were present. All of this suggests that Xenophon is not


For this interpretation of logon huposchein, see Ostwald : –.

I follow Ostwald’s interpretation (: ; cf. Krentz : ) of the quoted phrase from
... As Ostwald observes, because the generals are not on trial before the Assembly, they are not
allowed to present long speeches in their defense.

Although Callixeinus’ proposal may violate no specific law (see MacDowell : –), it
disregards normal legal protocols in Athens, whereby those charged with crimes are tried
individually: see Carawan : –; cf. Ostwald : –.

On this decree and its possible antecedents in Athens, see Lavelle .
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
seeking to portray a total breakdown of law and legal process in democratic
Athens, but highlighting a glaring deviation from lawfulness in a polity
that normally operates in accordance with this.
It is also important to note that there is nothing inevitable about the
dēmos’ decision to deviate from its own laws and condemn the generals en
masse without trial. At several points in the episode, Xenophon makes it
clear that the outcome was not predetermined. Thus, for example, when
the generals defend themselves before the Assembly and insist that the
violence of the storm prevented the rescue of the survivors and offer
witnesses to this, “Saying such things, they were starting to persuade the
dēmos, and many of the citizens rose and wanted to be sureties for them”
(..). And when Euryptolemus attempts to charge Callixeinus with
proposing an illegal decree, he is supported by “some members of the
dēmos,” though they are in the minority (..). Later, when the people
vote between Callixeinus’ proposal and that of Euryptolemus, they decide
initially in favor of Euryptolemus’ proposal that is in keeping with the
laws, and only after an objection under oath by Menecles forces a second
vote do they decide in favor of Callixeinus’ proposal that the generals be
condemned as a group (..–). Consistent with this picture of the
uncertainty of the outcome is the fact that the dēmos, after condemning
and executing the generals, soon regrets its decision and brings charges
against Callixeinus and others (..).
Although Xenophon’s depiction of the dēmos vacillating recalls the
charge of elite critics of the democracy that the dēmos is fickle in its
decision-making, Xenophon seems more concerned with the fact that
the dēmos reached a bad decision than that it wavered. In fact, its vacilla-
tion in the direction of being persuaded to act lawfully is surely a good
thing, and suggests that even in its anger the dēmos may be swayed by
rational argument.
To appreciate Xenophon’s perspective on this episode, we must not
limit our attention to his depiction of the dēmos, but consider also his
portrayal of powerful and influential individuals and their impact on the
outcome. Indeed, notwithstanding the important part that the dēmos plays
in the condemnation of the generals, Xenophon’s account focuses largely
on those in a position to lead – or mislead – the Athenian people, and their


Cf. Kroeker : : “The overall impression is that the demos had within itself the ability –
admittedly not fully exercised in this case – to make wise and just decisions.”

On the fickleness of the Athenian dēmos in this episode and in Thucydides’ Histories, see Pownall
: –, with  n. , and Rood a: –.
 The Arginusae Affair 
role in guiding the dēmos in its deliberations. His picture of leadership in
the democracy, as of the dēmos itself, is not altogether dark and pessimistic.
Xenophon offers a mixed picture of the city’s advisors in the Arginusae
affair. On the one hand, there are those who mislead, manipulate, and
deceive the dēmos. Theramenes emerges as an unscrupulous accuser of the
generals who will stop at nothing to deflect blame from himself and his
fellow trierarchs, a manipulator of public opinion, and party to the bribing
of Callixeinus to initiate his illegal proposal (.., ..; cf. ..–).
Callixeinus is culpable for drafting this proposal (..–), forcing its
consideration by the Assembly (..–), and in general deceiving the
people – as the dēmos eventually realizes after the execution of the generals
(..). In opposition to these individuals who work to induce the dēmos
to execute the generals without trial is Euryptolemus, an elite Athenian
with close connections to two of the generals on trial – his relative the
younger Pericles and his friend Diomedon (..) – who valiantly strives
to persuade the dēmos to allow each general to stand trial individually.
The fact that Xenophon devotes almost half of his account of the
Arginusae affair to his sympathetic presentation of Euryptolemus must
color our interpretation of the episode and its significance for Xenophon.
Euryptolemus provides not only a positive foil to his rivals who mislead the
Athenian people but also a paradigm for how to lead and advise the dēmos
responsibly. Indeed, Euryptolemus emerges as a model leader in the
course of this episode. He is knowledgeable concerning legal procedures
and laws and uses his knowledge to attempt to block Callixeinus’ illegal
decree, and then to propose two different ways that the dēmos might try the
generals individually in keeping with current laws (..–). He is also a
capable speaker, whose rhetoric wins over the Athenian dēmos in its initial
vote on whether to follow Callixeinus’ proposal or his own. And, above
all, he embraces the right values and principles. Thus, he places the city’s


As Andrewes () argues, there are significant problems with Xenophon’s dark portrayal of
Theramenes in the episode, including the fact that the generals seem to have leveled charges first
against Theramenes and others and thereby provoked countercharges (see ..; cf. D. S.
..–). Although Xenophon’s Euryptolemus speaks of Thrasybulus as an accomplice to
Theramenes (..), Xenophon makes Theramenes the driving force behind the condemnation
of the generals and focuses blame on him.

On the privileging of Euryptolemus’ role, see Pownall :  and Rood a: , who
observes that “the speech of Euryptolemus is the longest in the whole of the Hellenica.”

Cf. Lang : , who speaks of Euryptolemus “as the Demos’s true voice of reason,” and
Kroeker : : “Xenophon . . . is calling the demos back to its own best instincts through the
voice of Euryptolemus.”

Due (: ; cf. Krentz : –) characterizes Euryptolemus’ speech as manipulative, but
Xenophon does not portray it as such (cf. Pownall : , with  n. ).
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
interests above his own personal ones, notwithstanding the fact that
Pericles is his kinsman (“for it would be shameful for me to think more
of him than of the entire state,” ..) and is an advocate of humane and
lawful behavior. Consistent with this is the way Euryptolemus seeks to
persuade the dēmos to rein in its desires and exercise these within a legal
framework. Whereas Xenophon states that a majority of those at the
Assembly “cried out that it was a terrible thing if someone would not
allow the dēmos to do whatever it wished” (..), Euryptolemus insists
that the dēmos should act with restraint and hold individual trials in
accordance with the law and then impose “whatever punishment you
may wish” (..). Although this entails foregoing “the right to put
to death and set free anyone you wish,” this will prevent the people from
coming to the painful realization too late that they have executed innocent
men (..–). And, as if in reply to the dēmos’ cry that it would be
terrible (deinon) if the people were prevented from doing whatever they
wished (..), Euryptolemus observes that it would be terrible (deina),
after granting a trial to the oligarch and traitor Aristarchus, to deny
individual trials to the generals (..–).
That Euryptolemus ultimately fails to persuade the dēmos in this episode
is significant – not least for the fate of the generals – but this does not
undermine Xenophon’s positive portrayal of him as a leader opposing the
will of the dēmos in defense of what is right and lawful. His admirable
behavior mirrors that of Socrates within the episode, who in his role as one
of the Prytanes courageously refuses to bring Callixeinus’ illegal proposal
forward for debate; although Socrates’ resistance proves futile in the end
since the other Prytanes succumb to public pressure to put it to a vote, it is
nonetheless principled and noble. Euryptolemus, in fact, comes tanta-
lizingly close to winning over the dēmos and saving the generals. Xeno-
phon’s point in portraying Euryptolemus’ speech at length is, therefore,
not to highlight its absolute futility but to show how his good leadership
almost swayed the dēmos and prevented it from an act of gross injustice.
Xenophon suggests that it may be difficult to lead and restrain the dēmos in
some situations, but it is far from impossible.


Gray () rightly observes that “Xenophon offers the speech as a memorial to the good qualities
of Euryptolemus” (), but overestimates the importance of philanthropia in it (–).

Rood (a: – n. ) notes that ancient critics of individual democratic freedom characterize
this as doing whatever one wishes (Pl. Resp. b and Arist. Pol. a–).

According to Mem. .. and .., Socrates was not simply one of the Prytanes, but the epistatēs
who presided for the day; this may well be the case (see Krentz : ).
 The Arginusae Affair 
Xenophon’s presentation of the Arginusae episode thus offers a fairly
nuanced and balanced picture of the Athenian democracy in what was
surely one of its darker moments. Although the episode shows how the
dēmos deviated from lawfulness in condemning the generals without trial,
Xenophon suggests that this was neither typical nor inevitable. And
although the dēmos was misled by unscrupulous speakers on this occasion,
Euryptolemus’ wise advice suggests that the dēmos is not without good
advisors. In the end, Xenophon’s narrative is not a blanket indictment of
democracy, but rather an illustration of how its success depends on good
leaders to guide the dēmos. Although the idea that the dēmos is so very
reliant on its leaders for guidance and restraint may not reflect well on the
capacities of the dēmos and has elitist overtones, Xenophon does not
characterize democratic institutions as inherently flawed and doomed to
operate dysfunctionally.
Xenophon’s limited criticism of democratic decision-making in this
episode stands in contrast to Thucydides’ more pessimistic portrayal of
democratic deliberation in his Mytilenean Debate (.–). Thucydi-
des, like Xenophon, presents the dēmos deliberating and vacillating in a
critical situation, as it considers how to punish the Mytileneans for
rebelling against Athenian rule. Although the dēmos eventually chooses
to spare the majority of Mytileneans, a course that Thucydides clearly
approves, the historian casts doubt on the efficacy of democratic debate
and deliberation in his presentation of the episode. The competing
speakers, Cleon and Diodotus, both call attention to the problematic
nature of public debate and the role of rhetoric within it, and raise
questions about the efficacy of the dēmos making good decisions on the
basis of this (., .–). And Diodotus persuades the dēmos to spare
most of the Mytileneans, not by appealing to principles of fairness or
humanity but by making the case that this will best serve Athenian
interests in the long term and that the dēmos should base its decision solely
on expedience (.–). Xenophon, by contrast, presents the Arginusae
episode as a troubling deviation from otherwise lawful behavior by the
dēmos, and not as a general critique of the efficacy of democratic


Even Athenian democrats, however, acknowledge the dēmos’ need for expert advisors (see Ober
: –); cf. Mem. ..–, where Xenophon’s Socrates emphasizes the dēmos’ need for these.

Scholars have been too quick to treat Xenophon’s Arginusae episode and Thucydides’ Mytilenean
Debate as equally critical of the democracy. Thus, Due (: ; cf. Rood a: ) states: “it
appears to be a picture almost as pessimistic and repugnant as the one given by Thucydides in the
Mytilene-debate.” Pownall (:  n. ) challenges Due’s assessment.

See Ober : –.
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
deliberation. His presentation of Euryptolemus suggests that the dēmos has
good and principled advisors who can recommend the right course of
action for the right reasons. The fact that Euryptolemus nearly persuades
the Athenians to act lawfully on this occasion suggests that although the
dēmos made a bad decision, this was not because democratic institutions
are incapable of operating properly.
To appreciate the limited nature of Xenophon’s criticism of the democ-
racy in the Arginusae episode, we have only to look to his highly critical
depiction of the regime of the Thirty that follows soon after in his
narrative. This throws into relief his fairly mild presentation of the democ-
racy in its darkest hour, while also confirming Xenophon’s ambivalence
toward democracy and his attraction to alternatives to it.

The Thirty
Despite Xenophon’s critical portrayal of the dēmos and the leaders who
misled it in the Arginusae episode, he does not question explicitly the
viability of democratic rule in Athens. We should not infer from this,
however, that Xenophon embraces democracy without qualification or
rejects completely alternatives to it in Athens. Indeed, aspects of Xeno-
phon’s presentation of the regime of the Thirty, which was established
after Athens’ loss of the Peloponnesian War, suggest otherwise. Although
Xenophon depicts the downward spiral of the Thirty into violence and
lawlessness as shocking and reprehensible and contrasts the excesses of the
Thirty with the moderation and restraint of the restored democracy, his
narrative suggests that the moderate oligarchy that some supporters of the
Thirty had hoped to establish was a plausible and appealing alternative to
the city’s democratic constitution. This episode reveals Xenophon’s ambiv-
alence concerning democratic rule, while also explaining why, notwith-
standing this, he accepts democracy as the city’s given constitution after
the disastrous rule of the Thirty.
Xenophon makes it abundantly clear that the regime of the Thirty
under the corrupt and ruthless leadership of Critias was a poor alternative
to democratic rule. He portrays the Thirty as abusers of power from the
very start. “It was voted by the people to choose thirty men to write down
the ancestral laws, according to which they would govern” (..), but the
Thirty never carried out this charge. Instead, “they appointed a Council
and the other magistrates as they saw fit” (..), and proceeded to arrest
those who had abused the legal process (“sykophants”) under the democ-
racy and put them on trial before the newly established Council, which
 The Thirty 
was happy to find them guilty (..). After installing a Lacedaemonian
garrison in the city to back them up, the Thirty set about arresting “those
whomever they thought would least endure being pushed aside and those
who, if they attempted any opposition, would get supporters in the great-
est numbers” (..–). As opposition grew to the Thirty due to their
unjust executions of an increasing number of men, they sought support by
drawing up a list of “three thousand men, who would share, they said, in
governing the city” (..), and confiscated the arms of the other Athe-
nians (..). This enabled them “to do whatever they wished” and “they
began to put many men to death out of personal enmity or because of their
wealth” (..). In the face of continuing opposition to their actions from
Theramenes, who was himself one of the Thirty, Critias brought charges
against him before the Council, arguing that he was a traitor to the regime
and should be put to death; when the Council appeared to be receptive to
Theramenes’ defense, Critias struck him from the citizenship roll on his
own authority and had his henchmen drag him off to be executed.
Xenophon’s strongly critical presentation of the regime of the Thirty
contrasts sharply with his more restrained portrayal of the democracy in
the Arginusae episode. While he shows the dēmos acting outside its own
laws in the Arginusae episode, he characterizes this as atypical behavior
for it and the harm done is limited to the six generals who are executed.
By contrast, Xenophon depicts the regime of the Thirty as lawless from
the start, and emphasizes how many men they killed. If the dēmos in the
Arginusae episode insists on doing whatever it wishes in the matter of the
generals (..), the Thirty are consumed by their desire to do whatever
they wish in all matters and do everything they can to make this possible
(.., .., ..). And while the dēmos in the Arginusae episode
lashes out impulsively at the generals, the Thirty set out self-consciously
and methodically to kill men who pose a threat to their political domi-
nance (..), their personal enemies (..), and those whose property
they greedily seek (.., ..).


Xenophon objects to the Thirty usurping power, but not to their purge of sykophants; on his
sympathy with this initial purge, see below in the text.

If there are hints in Xenophon’s portrayal of the dēmos in the Arginusae episode that it is behaving
tyrannically (thus Rood a: ), this tyrannical behavior pales in comparison to that of the
Thirty.

The passages cited in the text all use forms of boulomai in speaking of “wishing.”

On the portrayal of the Thirty’s greed in Xenophon and other sources, see Balot : –.
Although Xenophon indicates at several points that the Athenians acted with brutality toward other
states during the Peloponnesian War (..–, ..–; cf. ..–), he attributes this to
Athenians in general rather than the dēmos in particular.
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
In case his readers miss the stark contrast between the behavior of the
Thirty and that of the dēmos, Xenophon highlights this for them both
through the words he attributes to others and in his own voice. After the
democrats defeat the forces of the Thirty at Mounichia, the herald
Cleocritus calls out to the supporters of the Thirty (..–), and
juxtaposes the harmony that Athenians enjoyed under the democracy with
the civil war precipitated by the unjust actions of the Thirty, who “for the
sake of their personal gain have killed in eight months more Athenians,
almost, than all the Peloponnesians in ten years of war” (..). After
the two sides agree on terms for reconciliation, Thrasybulus addresses the
Assembly and rebukes the “men of the city,” who had supported the
Thirty, for their arrogance in thinking they ought to rule over the dēmos:
whereas the dēmos had never sought to take money unjustly from wealthy
citizens, the Thirty and their supporters behaved shamefully in their
pursuit of personal gain (..). As Xenophon concludes his account of
this episode, he speaks of the reconciliation of the warring factions: “Both
parties then swore oaths that in very truth they would not remember past
wrongdoings, and even to this day they live together as fellow-citizens and
the dēmos abides by its oaths” (..). Xenophon thus suggests in his own
voice that the restored democracy returns the city to the state of harmony
that his Cleocritus attributes to it before the regime of the Thirty when the
dēmos ruled, and credits the dēmos for its role in this. In honoring its
oaths to uphold the Amnesty, the dēmos not only acts with a piety lacking
among the Thirty, but also shows restraint in refraining from acts of
vengeance against those who had supported the Thirty. This restraint
contrasts with the Thirty’s vindictive pursuit of their enemies (..) and
provides further confirmation that the dēmos’ lack of restraint in the
Arginusae episode in its rush to condemn the generals represents a devi-
ation from its normal behavior.
Although Xenophon condemns the regime of the Thirty and contrasts
it with the far better rule of the dēmos both before and after the oligarchic
junta, his account suggests that he is drawn to the idea that Athens might


On the considerable exaggeration here, see Krentz : .

Xenophon places a high priority on civic harmony and stability elsewhere as well: see Lac. Pol.
.–; Cyr. ..–; Ferrario : –.

On Xenophon’s efforts to cast the dēmos’ behavior in the most favorable light by concluding his
account of the Thirty with the Amnesty, see Krentz : . Although Xenophon speaks
cynically soon after this (..) of the Athenians sending  members of the cavalry who had
served under the Thirty to Asia, “considering it a gain for the dēmos if they should go abroad and
die,” he does not characterize this as a violation of the Amnesty.
 The Thirty 
be better served by a moderate oligarchy than democracy. Indeed,
Xenophon hints that certain features of democratic rule might under-
standably prompt some individuals to seek to replace it with a moderate
oligarchy and that he regrets the Thirty had ruined the possible realiza-
tion of this by acting more like tyrants than oligarchs. In suggesting that
the regime of the Thirty was a lost opportunity to improve the city’s
governance, Xenophon offers a potential defense to those who had
supported the Thirty in the hopes of establishing a moderate oligarchic
regime. If Xenophon himself was one of the “men of the city” who
supported the Thirty, his account also provides a defense for his own
personal decision to support their regime. In any event, this dimension of
Xenophon’s account deserves attention, as it illuminates his ambivalence
toward democratic rule.
One indication of Xenophon’s sympathy with those seeking a regime
change in Athens is his favorable portrayal of the Thirty’s initial purge:
Then, as a first step, they arrested and brought to trial for their lives those
persons who, as all knew, had made their living during the democracy by
acting as sykophants and had been troublesome to the gentlemen (tois kalois
kagathois); and the Council gladly found these people guilty, and the rest of
the citizens – at least all who were conscious that they were not of the same
sort themselves – were not at all displeased. (..)
Elite Athenians frequently complain that they are victimized by sykophants,
that is, individuals who legally harass wealthy men in pursuit of profit, and
that the democracy’s popular courts encourage this abuse. Xenophon’s
approval of the purge of sykophants reveals his critical perspective on
litigation and the law courts under the democracy. Xenophon’s Thera-
menes, who seeks as a member of the Thirty to establish a moderate
oligarchy, likewise characterizes this initial purge as welcome (..;
cf. ..). Where the Thirty went wrong in Xenophon’s view was in
extending their purges beyond sykophants to innocent men – his horror at
this is evident in his chilling narrative of the ever-widening circles of those
condemned and executed by the Thirty, and his Theramenes provides a
commentator within the text on the injustice and political imprudence of
this as the Thirty become increasingly isolated (..–).


On the class nuances of the term “sykophant,” see Christ : –.

Xenophon’s claim that the Thirty’s measures against such men were universally approved is suspect:
see Christ : – and : –. The democracy relied on volunteer prosecutors to bring
lawsuits on behalf of the public, and the dēmos might view an aristocrat’s sykophant as a patriotic
public watchdog (cf. Christ : ).
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
Further evidence that Xenophon is sympathetic to the dissolution of the
democracy is his favorable portrayal of Theramenes and the moderate
oligarchy that he envisions. Xenophon’s Theramenes presses the Thirty,
as opposition builds against them, to share power with more individuals,
“saying that unless they brought in additional suitable men to share in the
government, it would be impossible for the oligarchy to survive” (..).
When the Thirty enroll only , citizens, Theramenes rebukes them for
limiting citizenship to such a small number and excluding good men from
sharing power with them (..). And when Theramenes in his defense
speech replies to Critias’ attack that he is a political chameleon who shifted
back and forth in his support of oligarchy and democracy in  and is
now doing the same thing, Xenophon casts him sympathetically as a
moderate who rejects both democratic and oligarchic excess:
Critias, I am forever at war with those who do not think there could be a
good democracy until the slaves and those who, due to poverty, would sell
the state for a drachma should share in the government, and on the other
hand I am forever an enemy to those who do not think that a good
oligarchy could be established until they should bring the state under the
tyranny of a few men. But to direct the government in company with those
who have the means to be of service with horses or with shields – I regarded
this as the best policy before and I do not change my position now.
(..)
Xenophon’s Theramenes agrees with critics of the Athenian democracy
that persons of low status and wealth should be excluded from the citizen
body, and argues in favor of establishing a moderate oligarchy in which
only those who perform military service for the state as hoplites or
cavalrymen enjoy citizenship. Xenophon’s positive portrayal of Thera-
menes suggests that he identifies with him and his vision of the sort of
constitution the city should have.
It is striking that Xenophon, who presents Theramenes as one of the
villains in the Arginusae episode, depicts him favorably as a voice of
moderation and reason as a member of the Thirty and even allows him a
heroic and noble death (..). Although some have sought to explain
this shift in terms of the different phases of composition of the Hellenica,
there is a more straightforward explanation. Xenophon believed that
Theramenes, notwithstanding his earlier shameful behavior, had acted


When Theramenes refers to slaves sharing in the government, he may be alluding to the freeing of
slaves who fought at Arginusae (see above, note ).
 
I follow the text of Krentz  here. See, e.g., Andrewes : –.
 The Elite as Leaders of the Democracy 
honorably and admirably as a dissenting member of the Thirty, and saw in
him an opportunity to portray and defend the good intentions of those
who had sought regime change to improve the city’s governance and had
envisioned a moderate and inclusive oligarchy ruling the city. Viewed in
this light, Theramenes not only emerges as a principled opponent of the
Thirty but also provides a glimpse of the sort of regime and leadership that
decent “men of the city” had hoped to achieve.
Although one may condemn the naivete of men like Theramenes – and
perhaps Xenophon himself, if he was one of the “men of the city” – who
supported regime change and did not anticipate the brutality of the Thirty
and the civil strife that would ensue from this, Xenophon suggests through
his portrayal of Theramenes that good men could and did support regime
change in Athens at this time and not without cause in light of democratic
defects. Consistent with this implicit defense of moderate supporters of the
Thirty is the way Xenophon focuses blame on Critias for the regime’s
excesses. His Critias deeply resents the fact that the dēmos exiled him
(..), believes that “democracy is a difficult constitution for men of
his class” (..), and readily and repeatedly justifies violence as inev-
itable in the course of regime change (.., , ). Rather than view the
regime of the Thirty as an oligarchy, he speaks of it bluntly as a tyranny
that must keep close watch over its rule of the city (..). Had the
villainous Critias not exerted control over the Thirty, Xenophon suggests,
the regime might have been more moderate and successful and proved
itself to be superior to the democracy.

The Elite as Leaders of the Democracy

If Xenophon suggests that men like Theramenes who sought to establish a
moderate oligarchy had good intentions and places much of the blame on
Critias for the excesses of the Thirty, he seems to accept that the utter
failure of this attempt to replace democratic rule with oligarchy means that
the city’s constitution will remain democratic for the future. That this is
not a dire outcome in his view is evident when he praises the dēmos for
honoring the terms of the Amnesty and bringing harmony back to the city
after civil strife (..). And yet a significant question remains: If the
city’s constitution is not to be altered to privilege elite Athenians, what role


According to Theramenes, however, this did not stop Critias from seeking to establish a democracy
in Thessaly and to arm the serfs against their masters (..).

On the harshness of Xenophon’s portrayal of Critias in the Hellenica, cf. Danzig : –.
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
should they play within the democracy? While some members of the elite,
like Plato, chose to withdraw from political life under the restored democ-
racy, Xenophon, as we shall see in the course of this book, makes a
strong case that the elite should engage actively and responsibly in the
political life of the democratic city by serving as leaders. Although Xeno-
phon develops this position more explicitly and at greater length in his
other writings, in the opening books of the Hellenica he offers significant
glimpses of what he regards as good elite leadership of the Athenian
democracy through his portrayal of three elite actors: Euryptolemus,
Theramenes, and Thrasybulus.
Xenophon’s Euryptolemus may be taken as one model for how a
member of the elite can responsibly advise and lead the dēmos as an orator
(rhētōr) addressing it in the Assembly. As we have seen, although Eurypto-
lemus does not ultimately persuade the dēmos to act lawfully in judging the
generals, he shows himself to be an able and principled statesman. He
courageously opposes the desires of the majority and eloquently advocates a
lawful and moderate course of action, drawing on his knowledge of the
city’s laws and legal precedents. While the outcome of the Arginusae
episode suggests that even a capable and wise advisor cannot win over the
dēmos in all circumstances, the episode highlights the dēmos’ need for such
persons to guide and restrain it if the democracy is to succeed.
When Xenophon portrays Theramenes’ role in the peace negotiations at
the end of the Peloponnesian War, he provides an intriguing look at how a
member of the elite can serve the city in the role of ambassador and pursue
its best interests – even when the dēmos does not recognize what these are.
Notwithstanding Xenophon’s negative depiction of Theramenes in the
Arginusae episode, he presents him as a capable ambassador who shrewdly
brings about the peace that the city desperately needs, but resists. Accord-
ing to Xenophon, after Athens’ devastating defeat at Aigospotamoi (),
the city is under siege and short of food, but the Athenians are reluctant to
come to terms with the Lacedaemonians since they fear they will suffer the
same sorts of abuse that they had inflicted on weaker states during the
course of the war (..–, ..–). When the Lacedaemonians reject
an Athenian embassy that seeks to make peace without tearing down the
city’s walls (..–), the Athenians are at an impasse since they refuse
to consider destroying their walls:


The Seventh Letter, which is attributed to Plato, sets forth Plato’s reasons for abandoning his plans
to be politically active within the democracy (b–b); on this letter and its disputed
authorship, see Ober : –.
 The Elite as Leaders of the Democracy 
When the ambassadors came home and reported this to the city, despon-
dency fell on all; for they believed that they would be enslaved, and that
while they were sending another set of ambassadors, many would die of the
famine. Nevertheless, no one wanted to make any proposal involving the
destruction of the walls; for when Archestratus said in the Council that it
was best to make peace with the Lacedaemonians on the terms they
offered – and the terms were that they should tear down a portion ten
stadia long of each of the two Long Walls – he was imprisoned, and a decree
was passed forbidding anyone to make such a proposal. (..–)
Faced with the impossibility of making a proposal concerning the destruc-
tion of the walls, Theramenes shrewdly works around this constraint in
pursuit of peace. According to Xenophon (..–), Theramenes per-
suades the Assembly to send him to Lysander to find out more about the
intent of the Lacedaemonians concerning the walls, and then he lingers
with Lysander for more than three months so that on his return the
Athenians will agree to come to any terms proposed due to the worsening
of the famine. When Theramenes returns to Athens, he falsely claims that
Lysander had detained him and is chosen to lead an embassy of ten
Athenians to negotiate terms with the Lacedaemonians; when he brings
back these terms, which require the destruction of the Long Walls and the
Piraeus walls along with the surrender of most of the city’s fleet, he urges
the Assembly to accept these terms – and in so doing courageously defies
the prohibition on making such proposals – and persuades it to vote in
favor of peace on these terms.
Although Theramenes comes under vehement attack in other contem-
porary sources for his role in making this peace, Xenophon presents him
as a pragmatic statesman who works around the Assembly in the best
interests of the city. Notably, Xenophon describes how Theramenes is
devious in his speech and actions, but he does not condemn this given the
exigencies involved; Theramenes seeks to achieve a peace for the city that
will bring starvation to an end and allow the city to continue to exist, if
with diminished power. Although it may appear that Theramenes is as
guilty of deception of the dēmos as Callixeinus is in the Arginusae episode,


The fact that the Lacedaemonians in the end insist that the Athenians tear down the Long Walls
and the Piraeus walls suggests that the dēmos was mistaken to reject their earlier terms that “a
portion ten stadia long of each of the two Long Walls” be destroyed and to punish Archestratus for
arguing in favor of accepting these (..).

For hostile characterizations of Theramenes’ role in making peace, see Lys. .– and .–;
P. Mich.  appears to portray his role in a neutral or positive manner. On the conflicting
sources, see Krentz : –.
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
Xenophon does not present his behavior in these terms. His narrative
suggests that Theramenes’ legitimate ends justify the devious means he
uses to pursue them – his waiting for the worsening of the famine and his
misrepresentation of why he stayed away for three months. Here and
elsewhere Xenophon suggests that in extreme circumstances a leader may
need to deceive those whom he leads to advance their best interests.
Xenophon’s Thrasybulus, as the leader of the dēmos in exile under the
Thirty (cf. ..) and chief facilitator of its restoration to power, illus-
trates how a member of the elite can serve the city through effective
leadership on and off the battlefield. As leader of the demotic forces in
the civil war, he not only makes intelligent strategic choices including the
seizure of Phyle (..–) and the occupation of the hill of Mounichia in
the Piraeus (..–) but also inspires his troops through his eloquence
to fight bravely. Thrasybulus assures his troops before the Battle of
Mounichia that the gods are on their side due to the impious acts of the
Thirty, the terrain is to their advantage, and victory will benefit not only
those who survive the battle but also those who die and win glory for their
sacrifice; he concludes by calling on his troops to unite and “take ven-
geance on these men for the outrages we have suffered” (..–).
Thrasybulus’ troops, spurred on by his inspiring words, proceed to win a
great victory in which Critias is slain (..). Soon after the restoration of
the democracy, Thrasybulus deploys his eloquence once again but this
time before the Assembly to exhort the “men of the city” to embrace
moderation while rebuking them for having supported a corrupt and
depraved regime (..–). Whether on the battlefield or in the Assem-
bly, he gives voice to the Athenians’ highest values in support of the
democracy and its preservation.


Xenophon does not speak of Theramenes as acting deceptively; contrast the hostile assertion of
Lys. . that he destroyed the city’s walls “by deceiving the citizens.”

Xenophon’s positive portrayal of Theramenes in this episode and as a moderate voice seeking to
restrain the Thirty balances his earlier dark portrayal of Theramenes in the Arginusae episode. I do
not believe that Xenophon is critical of Theramenes throughout all these episodes and only portrays
him positively in the narration of his death at .., as Harding posits (: ; cf. Rood a:
 n. ). Buck (: ; cf. ) is mistaken in my view to assert that Xenophon, like Lysias,
portrays Theramenes “as an untrustworthy and treacherous crook at the best and as a double-
crossing traitor at the worst.” Andrewes (: –) believes that .., like ., shows
hostility to Theramenes (cf. Krentz : ), but “the whole tendency of . is in his favour,
with explicit praise at ...” Balot (:  n. ) sees a similar evolution in Xenophon’s
portrayal of Theramenes.

Xenophon’s Socrates observes that a general may need to lie to his own troops for their own good
(Mem. ..). Cf. how Xenophon, as general, circumvents the assembly of Cyrean troops for the
greater good (An. ..).

On the importance of rhetoric for an effective leader in Xenophon, see Marincola : .
 The Elite as Leaders of the Democracy 
Although Xenophon’s Euryptolemus, Theramenes, and Thrasybulus
play diverse leadership roles within the democracy, each adeptly navigates
democratic institutions in his pursuit of what is best for the city.
Euryptolemus shows himself to be a principled and capable rhētōr in the
Assembly; Thrasybulus ably leads the demotic forces as general in the civil
war, deploying his eloquence and canniness to achieve victory, and then
effectively addresses the Assembly as rhētōr; and Theramenes, in his role as
ambassador, knows when to work through democratic institutions to
achieve his ends and when to work around them.
While Xenophon does not pause in his presentation of these leaders to
reflect on what attributes make them fit to carry out their civic or martial
roles, his depiction of them suggests that they possess not only the practical
knowledge and skills to lead effectively but also the values essential for this.
Euryptolemus and Thrasybulus embrace moderation, piety, and lawful-
ness; Theramenes recognizes that there are circumstances in which it is just
to act deceptively in the pursuit of the greater good. In his Memorabilia, as
we shall see, Xenophon reflects explicitly on the attributes a democratic
leader needs and how he may attain these through education.
In focusing on Euryptolemus, Theramenes, and Thrasybulus to the
extent he does in his portrayal of Athens in crisis, Xenophon suggests that
elite Athenians play a disproportionate role in the city’s political life and
that the city depends on their leadership to prosper. Although this no
doubt reflects in part Xenophon’s assumptions as a member of the elite
about the importance of his own class, he does not suggest that these
members of the elite have a legitimate claim to lead simply because they
come from wealthy families or have distinguished bloodlines. Rather, it is
their values, knowledge, and skills that make them worthy leaders.
Although Xenophon does not explicitly address the relationship between
class and leadership in his Hellenica, his portrayal of the regime of the Thirty
argues against conflating elite social status with moral or political superior-
ity. Thus, for example, when the Thirty bid Theramenes to seize a metic
so he can be executed and his property confiscated, he protests:
But it is not honorable, as it seems to me, for people who claim to be the
best men (beltistous) to commit acts of greater injustice than the sykophants
used to do. For they allowed those from whom they got money to live; but
shall we, in order to get money, put to death men who have done nothing
unjust? Are not such acts altogether more unjust than what the
sykophants did? (..)


Cf. Balot : –.
 Athens in Crisis in the Hellenica
The paradox that the Thirty, who view themselves as the city’s “best men”
and as “gentlemen” (kaloi kagathoi: .., , ), are behaving worse
than the city’s villainous sykophants is striking and suggests that high
social status is no guarantor of good values or good governance (cf. ..).
Similarly, Thrasybulus rebukes the supporters of the Thirty for their
arrogance in thinking they were better than their fellow citizens and
therefore should rule over them when he addresses the Assembly after
the restoration of the democracy:
Men of the city, I advise you to “know yourselves.” And you would best learn
to know yourselves, if you should consider on what basis you were so proud
as to attempt to rule over us. Are you more just? But the dēmos, though
poorer than you, never did you any wrong for the sake of money; while you,
though richer than any of them, have done many disgraceful things for the
sake of personal gain. But since you can lay no claim to justice, consider then
whether it is courage that you have a right to pride yourselves on. And what
better test could there be of this than the way we fought one another? Well
then, would you say that you are superior in intelligence, you who having a
wall, arms, money, and the Peloponnesians as allies, have been worsted by
men who had none of these things? (..–)
In exhorting the “men of the city” to know themselves, Thrasybulus urges
them to embrace the fundamental moral virtue of moderation (sōphrosunē),
which they have failed to do in their support of the Thirty, and to accept
their place within the democracy henceforth.
Xenophon’s criticism of the Thirty and their supporters makes it clear
that the city’s elite have no claim to lead the city on the basis of class
superiority. In his Socratic works, as we shall see, Xenophon makes the case
that elite Athenians must seek to transform themselves to become morally
and politically competent so as to lead the democratic city responsibly and
effectively. The city relies on them for leadership, and they need to make
themselves capable of providing this. To do so, they will need to set aside the
notion that they are superior to their fellow citizens and instead seek to
become “gentlemen” in a new sense, as individuals of outstanding virtue and
merit who have the attributes needed to lead the city successfully.


Xenophon associates sykophants with “scoundrels” (hoi ponēroi) in ..–; Athenians regularly
speak of sykophants in these terms (see Christ : ).

On sōphrosunē as a cardinal Xenophontic virtue, see Dorion and Bandini : ccvii n. .
  

Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia

Xenophon’s Socratic works – Apology, Memorabilia, Oeconomicus, and

Symposium – have long interested scholars as potential sources of informa-
tion concerning the historical Socrates and as a complement to, and
possible corrective of, Plato’s portrait of him. In recent years, however,
scholars have come to appreciate that these works may tell us more about
Xenophon and his political, social, and ethical views than about the
historic Socrates. Building on this scholarship, this chapter examines the
longest of these works, the Memorabilia, and argues that although
Xenophon frames this as a defense of Socrates from the charges that led
to his execution in , he also reflects extensively and critically on the
place of the elite as leaders within the democracy and offers instruction to
his elite Athenian readers on how to adapt to, and succeed in, political life
in democratic Athens. Reading the Memorabilia in this way illuminates
Xenophon’s relationship with both his readers and the Athenian
democracy.
The Memorabilia consists largely of a series of conversations between
Socrates and a range of elite Athenians during the late years of the fifth
century. Although these conversations are presented as recollections of
Socrates and his teachings, the issues that they raise and the lessons that
they provide concerning political leadership are relevant not only to
Socrates’ elite interlocutors but also to Xenophon’s elite Athenian readers
in the opening decades of the fourth century. Indeed, the conspicuous


For a review of earlier scholarship, see Dorion and Bandini : vii–cxviii. On the “Socratic
question” in Xenophon, see Waterfield  and Dorion , ; for a summary of the many
differences between Xenophon’s portrait of Socrates and that of Plato, see Dorion : –.

Although Xenophon states that Socrates shared his wisdom generously with his fellow citizens at no
cost (..), the Memorabilia focuses on his conversations with elite Athenians.

On the debate over dating the Memorabilia, see Dorion and Bandini : ccxl–cclii. Although
..– appears to have been written after the Battle of Leuctra in  (ibid. ccxlviii–ix), some parts
of the Memorabilia may have been composed earlier (cf. Gray :  n. ).


 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
role of the elite in establishing the regime of the Thirty and in fighting
against democratic forces in the ensuing civil war (/) made the
question of the proper political role of the elite in the city all the more
pressing for an early fourth-century audience. Xenophon and his Socrates –
the viewpoints of the two are difficult, if not impossible, to disentangle –
offer a bold new vision of what it means to be simultaneously a
“gentleman” (kalos kagathos) and a good citizen within the democracy.
This entails challenging elite assumptions that wealth or birth makes a
man worthy of leading the city, and arguing that only through the right
kind of education and the values, knowledge, and skills gained through
this can one legitimately seek to lead others. No other elite Athenian
writer so directly challenges his peers’ assumptions concerning their
superiority within the city or so explicitly promotes the pursuit of an
education that will provide not only a moral foundation for leading but
also the knowledge and practical skills essential for this. Xenophon’s
presentation of this perspective is provocative and often barbed, as he
satirizes Socrates’ elite interlocutors whose political ambitions outrun
their abilities and training. Indeed, Xenophon appears to seek to shake
his elite readers from their complacency and inspire them to make
themselves worthy of leading the city.
This chapter first examines how Xenophon broaches the question of the
proper role of elite Athenians under the democracy in the opening book of
the Memorabilia through his critique of Socrates’ former students, Critias
and Alcibiades, and portrays Socrates as a challenger of destructive elite
attitudes and behaviors. It then considers how Xenophon proceeds
through his depiction of Socrates’ conversations with select representatives
of the elite to set forth a model of political behavior for elite Athenians that
emphasizes their duty to step forward and engage in politics if they are
qualified to do so; delineates the values, knowledge, and skills that they
should seek out so as to be worthy to lead; and sketches out how they can
deploy their friendship with like-minded men to succeed in a democratic
political environment. Finally, this chapter proposes that Xenophon, in
offering written advice to the Athenian elite concerning their political place
in the democracy, plays a role analogous to that of Socrates, whom he


On the entanglement of Xenophon and his Socrates, see Dorion and Bandini : lxx–lxxxix;
Dorion : ; Gera : –; cf. Gray a: .

On the “[v]arious ‘orders’ of knowledge” that Xenophon views as necessary for successful leadership,
see Gray : .

Cf. Mem. .., where Xenophon describes Socrates’ efforts to “shake up” (kinein) the self-satisfied
Euthydemus.
 Critias, Alcibiades, and Elite Political Behavior 
depicts serving the democracy by exhorting his elite interlocutors in one-
on-one conversation to become worthy leaders of the city.

Critias, Alcibiades, and the Problem of Elite Political Behavior

The Memorabilia opens with a defense of Socrates against the charges
brought against him in  that he was guilty of impiety and corrupting
the city’s youth. In addressing the latter charge, Xenophon confronts head-
on the problem that two of Socrates’ students, Critias and Alcibiades, had
gone on to do great harm to the city. Although Xenophon’s discussion of
Critias and Alcibiades seeks first and foremost to show that Socrates was
not responsible for his students’ crimes, it also highlights the potential of
prominent members of the elite to do egregious damage to the city. In so
doing, it introduces what will emerge as a salient concern of the Memora-
bilia: how to ensure that Athens’ elite help the city rather than harm it in
exercising leadership.
Xenophon reports that one of Socrates’ prosecutors called attention to
his association with Critias and Alcibiades:
His prosecutor said that Critias and Alcibiades were both companions of
Socrates and had done the city the greatest harms. For Critias was the most
greedy, violent, and murderous of those in the oligarchy; Alcibiades, for his
part, was the most dissolute, hubristic, and violent of all men in the
democracy. (..)
Xenophon indicates that he will not defend any wrong these men did
to the city (..), but proceeds to dispute Socrates’ responsibility for
their crimes.
According to Xenophon, extreme political ambition led Critias and
Alcibiades to become companions of Socrates: “These two men were by
nature (phusei) the most ambitious (philotimotatō) of all Athenians, and
they wished to get everything under their control and to become the most
famous of all men” (..). They sought out Socrates not because they
admired his frugal lifestyle and self-control (enkrateia) but because they
knew that “he could do as he liked in argument with anyone who


On the apologetic nature of the Memorabilia, see Gray : –, –, a: –; cf. Dorion
and Bandini : ccxxxviii–ccxl.

Dillery (: –) rightly disputes the claim of Tamiolaki (: –) that Xenophon’s
portrayal of Critias and Alcibiades is not as negative as is commonly thought.

I follow the text of Dorion and Bandini .

On the centrality of enkrateia in Xenophon’s portrayal of Socrates and his ethics, see Dorion :
, .
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
conversed with him” and “by associating with him they would become
extremely competent in speech and action” (..–), which would
enable them to achieve their political goals (..). Xenophon insists
that although Critias and Alcibiades were moderate while they remained
with Socrates, who not only regularly conversed with his companions
about virtue, but also set a positive example of virtuous behavior for them
(..–; cf. , , ..), they became immoderate when they left
his company. Critias took up with men in Thessaly who preferred
lawlessness to justice, and Alcibiades, aided by his beauty and prestige,
easily achieved leadership of the people (dēmos) and began to “neglect
himself” (..).
Although Xenophon portrays Critias and Alcibiades as flawed individ-
uals who are responsible for their own bad behavior, he links their excesses
to attributes that they share with other members of the city’s elite. Thus,
for example, when Xenophon speaks of their extreme ambition (..,
quoted above), he flags a trait that he identifies especially closely in the
Memorabilia with the city’s elite citizens, for whom high station and high
expectations go hand in hand. And as Xenophon sums up what led
Critias and Alcibiades astray, he asks:
Since this is what happened to them, and since they were exalted by their
birth (epi genei), elated by their wealth (epi ploutoi), puffed up with their
power, and spoiled by many people, is it any wonder that when they were
corrupted for all these reasons and long separated from Socrates, they
became arrogant? (..)
Although Xenophon does not suggest that high birth or wealth necessarily
corrupts members of the elite, he clearly views this as a real possibility
(cf. Pl. Alc. a–c) and, given the access of the elite to political power
and their ambition to obtain this, a potential threat to the city.
Critias and Alcibiades, as striking illustrations of elite ambition gone
awry, prove to be paradigmatic for Xenophon’s critical portrayal of the
city’s elite in the Memorabilia. Through Socrates’ conversations with, and
interrogations of, elite Athenians, Xenophon exposes the misplaced confi-
dence of the elite in their ability to lead based simply on wealth or birth


On Xenophon’s careful distancing of Socrates from Critias and Alcibiades, see Dorion and Bandini
: –.

According to Xenophon, Socrates does not recklessly arm his students with the tools that will make
them successful politicians; he inculcates moderation so that they will deploy the skills they acquire
responsibly (cf. Dorion and Bandini : ccvi–ccix, –).

Although Xenophon depicts Athenians in general as men of exceptional ambition (Mem. ..,
..), he represents elite Athenians as among the most ambitious Athenians.
 Critias, Alcibiades, and Elite Political Behavior 
and shows how elite ambition for political power, if not accompanied by
virtue, knowledge, and practical skills, is dangerous for the city. He insists
that while the city relies on its elite citizens to step forward to lead, they
must seek out education to develop the moral character and gain the
knowledge and skills that they will need to lead responsibly and effectively.
Indeed, in the course of the Memorabilia, Socrates emerges as the ideal
facilitator of this as he instructs his elite interlocutors on how they can
transform themselves into worthy leaders.
Socrates’ important role in educating the elite as leaders is already
evident in the opening book of the Memorabilia. Xenophon makes this
explicit when he describes an exchange in which the sophist Antiphon asks
Socrates how he can make politicians of others when he himself avoids
politics: “‘Antiphon,’ he replied, ‘should I play a more important part in
politics by engaging in them alone or by taking pains to turn out as many
competent politicians as possible?’” (..). Significantly, Xenophon’s
Socrates not only improves the political capacities of those who associate
with him but also actively seeks to produce as many capable politicians as
he can. The remainder of the Memorabilia corroborates this by present-
ing Socrates’ conversations with numerous members of the city’s elite,
some of whom he even tracks down so as to educate them in what is
required of a civic leader.
A key element of Socrates’ education of elite leaders, as we shall see, is to
call into question harmful elite attitudes and behaviors. Thus, for example,
Socrates embraces a simple and frugal lifestyle and contrasts this with the
excesses of a luxurious and extravagant elite lifestyle (..–; cf. ..,
.., Oec. .–). Furthermore, Socrates openly criticizes the common
elite practice of pederasty when he rebukes Critias, who seeks to have sex
with his boy-love (eromenos) Euthydemus, that it is “unbecoming to a
gentleman (andri kalōi kagathōi)” to beg for a boy’s favors and to seek what
is shameful (..–), and when he warns Critobulus, who had kissed
Alcibiades’ attractive son, that this is risky as it may lead to “spending large


As McNamara (: ) observes, “Socrates’ response suggests that providing political education,
while not the same as official participation in the affairs of the city, is nevertheless a form of political
engagement.” In encouraging his associates to be politically active, Xenophon’s Socrates diverges
from Plato’s Socrates, who views politics as dangerous for a just man (Pl. Ap. e–a); cf. Kroeker
: . Dorion (: ) notes that Socrates’ assertion that he teaches political competence
evokes the claim of some sophists to impart this. Although some scholars have argued that .. is
an interpolation, there is no good reason to doubt that Xenophon wrote it (cf. Dorion and Bandini
: –).

Xenophon’s Socrates, unlike Plato’s Socrates, presents himself openly as an educator: see X. Ap.
–; Dorion : .
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
sums on harmful pleasures” and “having no leisure to give to anything fit
for a gentleman (kalou kagathou)” (..).
When Socrates speaks of elite pederasty as conduct unbefitting a gen-
tleman (kalos kagathos), he pointedly challenges conventional aristocratic
understandings of what it means to be a gentleman. Athenian aristocrats in
the late fifth century spoke of themselves as kaloi kagathoi, literally, the
“beautiful and the good,” primarily on the basis of their wealth and high
birth. Socrates critiques this claim by gauging a man’s gentlemanliness
(kalokagathia) instead on the basis of his moral character and his ability to
benefit his family, friends, and city. Essential to this understanding of
kalokagathia is that it is not an innate trait of the upper class, but
something that men must actively seek out through education
(cf. ..). Socrates himself stands ready to help educate his elite inter-
locutors so that they may become “gentlemen” in the Socratic sense (..,
.., .., ..; cf. .., ..).
Consistent with this critique of traditional elite notions of kalokagathia,
Xenophon presents Socrates himself as a “gentleman” in the true sense of
the word. By practicing what he taught, he provided a model for his
students to emulate: “I know that Socrates showed his companions that he
was a gentleman himself, and talked most nobly of excellence (aretē) and
other things of concern to men” (..). Socrates’ gentlemanly behavior
entails displaying piety, frugality, moderation, and self-control, including


Xenophon appears to be more open to pederasty that involves sex than does his Socrates: see
Hindley , , and Lane Fox b: –, but cf. Danzig : –.

For kaloi kagathoi as a self-designation of Athenian aristocrats from the last decades of the fifth
century on, see Donlan  and : –. Although it is possible that aristocrats invented
this phrase as Donlan proposes, they may have been appropriating a preexisting phrase of positive
valuation – it first appears in Herodotus (..), who applies it to the sons of Tellus the Athenian
in a moral sense rather than a social one. In any event, Athenian democrats seized on the same
phrase to speak of good and patriotic citizens (Dem. .); although the evidence for this is clearest
from the mid-fourth century on (see de Ste. Croix : –), democrats likely contested its
narrow application to aristocrats earlier (cf. Donlan : ) and applied it more broadly to good
citizens (see Lys. ., which dates to , with Ober : ). On this phrase and its usage in
Athens, see de Ste. Croix : –; Dover : –; Ober : –, –; Roscalla
; Waterfield : –. On Bourriot’s problematic treatment () of it, see Cairns 
and Davies .

De Ste. Croix (: ) asserts that the abstract noun kalokagathia is first attested in Xenophon,
but it appears earlier in Ar. fr. .– K.-A. ( BC). De Ste. Croix (ibid. ; cf. ) believes
that the moral sense of kalos kagathos emerged later than its social-political sense “from Xenophon
onwards – it is often thought to be largely a product of the Socratic circle.”

In my view, when Xenophon’s Socrates redefines kalokagathia as a moral and civic virtue rather than
an innate trait of the city’s elite, he transforms the term so substantially that Xenophon does not
“risk that his hero will be seen as non-democratic” (Tuplin : ).

Cf. Waterfield : .
 The Importance of Political Engagement 
over his appetites for food and sex (.; cf. .). In teaching his associates
“all the good he can,” in fact, Socrates fulfills the duty not only of a
gentleman but also of a good citizen (..; cf. ..).
Xenophon’s laudatory portrayal of Socrates as a critic of the city’s birth
and wealth elite and as an advocate and exemplar of a new model of what it
means to be a true gentleman makes it clear that he is in sympathy with
Socrates’ critique of the elite and his efforts to reform it. In the remainder
of the Memorabilia, Xenophon expands on the critique of the elite that he
sets forth in Book  by bringing before his reader a series of conversations
in which Socrates engages with elite Athenians, many of whom are eager to
exercise leadership in the city as politicians or military leaders but are ill-
prepared to do so. Although Socrates’ elite interlocutors are sometimes
named, often they are not, and this adds to the impression that Xenophon
is critiquing typical elite misconceptions about what makes a man worthy
to lead. Indeed, there is a strong element of caricature and social satire in
Xenophon’s presentation of Socrates’ conversations with select members of
the elite, as he pointedly exposes the arrogance and incompetence of men
of his own class whose political ambitions exceed their abilities. Although
these juxtaposed conversations do not develop a linear argument, as they
accumulate and reinforce one another they offer a fairly consistent picture
of the defects of elite aspirants to political power and what they need to do
to make themselves worthy of leading the city.

The Importance of Political Engagement

A fundamental question for elite Athenians was how actively to engage in
the city’s political life and, in particular, whether to step forward as orators
(rhētores) to advise the Assembly or to seek election to military office so as
to serve as general or cavalry commander (cf. ..–). Some level of
participation in the life of the city was nearly unavoidable for the elite since
they were required to carry out public services, known as liturgies, and pay


On whether Xenophon’s Socrates is a teacher of virtue, see Morrison : –.

Tuplin (: –, ) observes that Xenophon’s portrayal of fifth-century Athens and its elite
in his Socratic works has a strange and fictive quality to it. In my view this reflects in large part
Xenophon’s desire to represent the Athenian past in such a way as to instruct his contemporary elite
audience.

For a defense of the Memorabilia’s unity and coherence despite its episodic structure, see Dorion
and Bandini : clxxxiii–ccxl; cf. Gray : –, –; Johnson : –.

In the fifth century, the same elite Athenians often served as both rhētores and generals; in the
fourth century, the trend was toward specialization in one sphere or the other (see Hansen :
–).
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
the irregularly imposed war tax (eisphora), but it was very much up to
them as individuals to determine whether to pursue positions of leader-
ship. A central concern of the Memorabilia is to take up the question of the
proper political role of the elite within the city, and to make the case for
active and responsible involvement in political life. Although Xenophon
allows for different levels of political participation by members of the elite
in light of their diverse temperaments and abilities, he emphasizes that
those who are qualified to lead the city have a duty to step forward.
At the opening of Book  of the Memorabilia, Xenophon presents a
conversation between Socrates and Aristippus of Cyrene that makes it clear
that there is no way to escape a political life completely and that, for those
who have a choice, it is preferable to lead rather than to be led. This
conversation opens with Socrates asking Aristippus, who was known to be
dissolute, how one should educate two youths so that one of them would
be fit to rule and the other would not seek to rule (..). Although
Aristippus readily agrees with Socrates that self-control (enkrateia) is
essential for someone seeking to rule others, he indicates that he himself
has no interest in being a ruler: “Considering that it is a serious task to
provide for one’s own needs, it seems to me to be quite crazy not to be
content with this, but to pile on top of it the task of supplying the needs of
the rest of one’s fellow citizens as well” (..). Aristippus asserts that a
head of state is essentially a slave to the community because it expects him
to fulfill its wishes and refrain from pursuing his own (..–), and
indicates that he has no interest in the manifold troubles that ruling
entails, but rather “rank myself with those who want their lives to be as
easy and pleasant as possible” (..).
In the discussion that ensues, Socrates insists that Aristippus cannot
expect to live a pleasant life and much less the hedonistic existence that he
envisions, if he forgoes seeking to rule others. When Socrates asks
Aristippus, “Shall we then consider whether the rulers or the ruled live
the more pleasant life?” (..), Aristippus acknowledges that ruling is
preferable to slavery (..), but he envisions “a middle path” whereby he


On these obligations and elite efforts to evade them, see Christ : –.

On the historical Aristippus and the Cyrenaics, see Lampe .

Socrates does not reject pleasure per se, but rather argues that enkrateia, which enables one to rule
others, is the best way to maximize pleasure in the long term (cf. Cyr. ..): see Dorion and
Bandini a: , .

The sharp distinction that Socrates draws between rulers and the ruled here is at odds with
Xenophon’s portrayal of this relationship elsewhere as complementary, with men taking turns in
the two roles: see Dorion and Bandini a: –. As Gray (a:  n. ) observes, however,
Socrates appears to invoke this distinction to prod Aristippus to make himself fit to rule.
 The Importance of Political Engagement 
can be free and happy (..), namely, by moving from community to
community and living as a foreigner (xenos). Socrates asserts, however, that
there is no such option since the stronger will inevitably dominate the
weaker (..–) and that Aristippus, as a foreigner, will be especially
vulnerable to injury (..) wherever he goes; in fact, he may find himself
enslaved and beaten by his master for pursuing his own pleasures
(..–). When Aristippus asserts that a ruler and a slave both suffer,
and the only difference is that the former does so willingly and the latter by
compulsion (..), Socrates argues that a ruler can at least choose when
he suffers and endures toil, and that his labors lead ultimately to rewards,
including the ability to manage his own household, help his friends, and
serve his fatherland (..–). This is not only the more beneficial path
but also the more virtuous one, as Socrates makes clear in his account of
Prodicus’ tale of Heracles’ choice between virtue and vice; a virtuous life,
though it entails toil, leads to greater happiness than a life of vice that
shuns labor for short-term gratification (..–).
Although Aristippus is not an Athenian, the fantasy of a life free from
trouble and removed from political affairs appealed to some elite Athenians
during the classical period. Socrates emphatically rejects the naive notion
that a man can stand completely aloof from political life by simply moving
from city to city, and insists that within one’s own polis it is both
expedient and virtuous to shoulder the burdens of leadership. A striking
feature of Socrates’ presentation of the advantages of ruling over being
ruled is that he posits that leaders not only enjoy considerable benefits
from their position of power but also avoid the risks inherent in being
dominated by others (cf. ..). Indeed, to drive home this latter point,
Socrates invokes the position of some sophists that man lives in a state of
nature in which subservience and dominance are bleak alternatives and the
weaker naturally succumb to the stronger. If Socrates wields here an
extreme doctrine, it is important to remember that he is seeking to
persuade an individual who embraces an extreme perspective and who
needs to be shaken out of his delusion that he can live an apolitical life.


For the ongoing debate over the Prodicean origin of this tale, see Sansone , with earlier
bibliography.

On the appeal of political disengagement (apragmosunē) to some elite Athenians, see Carter :
–.

Cf. Dorion and Bandini a: –.

Cf. Johnson (: , –), who argues that Socrates’ invocation of this position must be
understood within the context of his elenchus of Aristippus, and rightly notes that this does not jibe
with Xenophon’s Socrates’ vision of political life elsewhere.
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
Socrates’ extensive discussion of political engagement with Aristippus
serves as a prelude to his treatment of this in a specifically Athenian context
in his exchange with Charmides, son of Glaucon. When Socrates sees
that Charmides, who is “far more capable than the politicians of the day,”
holds back from addressing the Athenian people in the Assembly (..),
he prods him to put himself forward. Socrates asserts that it is Charmides’
duty as citizen to step forward to direct the affairs of the city (.., )
since he is capable of doing so (..). Just as it would be cowardly for a
great athlete to refuse to compete in the great games where he could win
honor for himself and glory for his city, it would be cowardly for a man
who could direct the state’s affairs and thereby help his city and win honor
through this to hold back from competition in the political sphere
(..–, ). Socrates’ confidence in Charmides’ ability to advise the
Assembly is based on his observation that Charmides already offers good
advice in private conversation to the city’s political leaders (..). He
chastises Charmides for being confident in speaking before such formida-
ble men in private while hesitating to address average citizens – mere
fullers, cobblers, builders, smiths, farmers, merchants, and dealers in the
Agora – in the Assembly who know nothing about political matters
(..–); since he does not fear the ridicule of the former, he should
not fear the laughter of the latter (..–). Socrates concludes with an
exhortation to Charmides: “Do not neglect the affairs of the city, if you
can improve them in any way. If they go well, not only your fellow
citizens, but your friends and you yourself at least as much as they will
profit” (..).
Although scholars have often cited this episode as evidence of Socrates’
antidemocratic views due to his unflattering characterization of average
Athenians in the Assembly, Xenophon’s Socrates is far more concerned
here with arguing that capable members of the elite must step forward as
leaders within the democracy than with critiquing the dēmos or democratic
institutions. Socrates’ main point is that Athenians differ from one another
in their ability to provide political leadership and that those who are
capable therefore have an obligation to do so. As Socrates seeks to persuade
Charmides that he should not be afraid to address the Assembly, he
contrasts his private audience of politically active men who are most


On Socrates’ encouragement of elite engagement in the democracy, see Gray a: .

Xenophon and his Socrates embrace the pursuit of glory, honor, and praise: see Dorion and Bandini
a: –. For the analogy between elite citizens and star athletes, see also Mem. ...

See, e.g., Luccioni : – and Vlastos : –.
 The Importance of Political Engagement 
knowledgeable/wise (phronimōtatoi) and strongest (ischurotatoi) with the
public audience he will have in the Assembly of men who are the opposites
of this, least knowledgeable/wise (aphronestatoi) and least strong (asthenes-
tatoi) (..). The point of this sharp contrast is clarified in what follows,
when Socrates challenges Charmides’ irrational fear of addressing the
Assembly: “What difference do you think there is between what you are
doing and someone who can beat trained athletes but is afraid of amateurs
(tous idiotas)?” (..). As an expert in political affairs, Charmides has no
reason to fear the average men who dominate the Assembly. Notably, in
contrasting the expertise of political leaders with the amateurism of the
general mass of men, Socrates does not assert that this is a consequence of
innate differences between them; in fact, the analogy he draws with the
athletic sphere suggests that training is what separates political leaders from
average men. The basic distinction that he draws between expert orators
and their amateur audiences of private persons, moreover, is one that the
Athenian public accepted. If politicians addressing the Athenian dēmos
are careful to avoid framing the contrast as bluntly as Socrates does here,
they invoke the same distinction and offer advice as individuals particularly
qualified to do so. Read in this light, Socrates is amplifying a distinction
that Athenians at large recognized, and using this to inspire a member of
the elite to step forward to serve the democracy as he should.
In seeking to persuade Charmides to play an active role in the political life
of the city, Socrates indicates, as in his conversation with Aristippus (..),
that this is warranted not only on the grounds of patriotic duty but also
because this is beneficial to those who step forward to lead. Socrates asserts
that such men will win honor (timasthai: ..) through their service and be
in a position to help their friends and themselves (..; cf. ..). For
Xenophon and his Socrates, there is no inherent conflict between a man
advancing the city’s interests and his own simultaneously.
An interesting question arises in connection with Socrates’ exhortation
to Charmides that he should play a more active political role in the


Socrates’ equation of knowledge and strength facilitates his comparison of the most knowledgeable
men with trained athletes and the least knowledgeable men as amateur athletes.

See Ober : –; cf. Gray a: .

Cf. Gray a:  and Tuplin : –. Dorion and Bandini (a: –) overlook the
presence of this distinction in Athenian public discourse. Elsewhere, Xenophon’s Socrates views the
dēmos and its deliberative capacities more positively: see esp. Ap. , with Gray a: .

Xenophon frequently speaks of the desirability of a man benefiting himself, his family and friends,
and his city: see Dorion and Bandini : ccxvi–ccxvii; cf. b:  n. ; Seager : . For
Athenians in general, the pursuit of self-interest was not necessarily incompatible with good
citizenship: see Christ : –; cf. : –.
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
city: How should we view this in light of the fact that Charmides went on
to support the Thirty in  as “one of the Ten who ruled in the Piraeus”
and died in battle fighting on their behalf at Mounichia (HG ..)?
Arguably, since Socrates urged Charmides to become politically active, he
might be viewed as culpable for Charmides’ subsequent political activities
under the Thirty. Interestingly, while Xenophon defends Socrates at
length from the charge at his trial that he bore responsibility for the
offenses of Critias and Alcibiades against the city, he makes no attempt
to defend him from the potential charge that his associate Charmides went
on to serve the Thirty. Perhaps the best explanation for Xenophon’s silence
is that he did not view Charmides’ later political behavior as conspicuously
bad; Xenophon’s portrayal of the regime of the Thirty in the Hellenica
suggests that many decent men initially supported the Thirty, but came to
regret this. If anyone were to cast this against Socrates, however, Xeno-
phon’s portrayal of Socrates in this episode provides an implicit defense of
his behavior: far from encouraging Charmides to overthrow the democ-
racy, he urges him to step forward as a speaker before the democratic
Assembly and to win honor by serving the city.
If Socrates’ conversation with Charmides highlights the responsibility of
qualified members of the elite to advise and lead the dēmos, his conversa-
tion with Glaucon – Charmides’ nephew and Plato’s brother – that
immediately precedes it cautions that only those who are truly capable of
leading should step forward as leaders. These closely paired conversations
sketch out opposite extremes, with Charmides reluctant to engage in
political life despite his aptitude for it, and Glaucon eager to play a leading
role in the city despite his manifest inexperience and incompetence.
As background to this conversation, Xenophon describes how Glaucon,
who was not yet twenty years old, was trying to become a rhētōr since he
desired to lead the city, and although he kept getting dragged down from
the speaker’s platform in the Assembly and incurring ridicule from the
public, none of his friends or relatives could deter him. In the face of this


This has troubled many scholars: see Dorion and Bandini a: –.
 
Cf. Dorion and Bandini a: –. See Chapter .

Cf. McNamara : : “Charmides’ failure is not Socrates’ failure. Socrates pointed the way
towards a just and beneficial political participation and Charmides ignored his advice.”

For Glaucon’s family tree, see Nails : .

On the conspicuous pairing of these two conversations, see Dorion and Bandini a: , ,
–.

In the late fifth century, Athenian men over the age of eighteen could apparently attend meetings of
the Assembly (cf. Hansen : –, ); it was presumably uncommon, however, for someone
as young as Glaucon to seek to address the Assembly.
 The Importance of Political Engagement 
embarrassing situation, Socrates steps forward for the sake of his friendship
with Plato and Charmides, and successfully intercedes (..), by demon-
strating to Glaucon his utter ignorance of what a political leader
should know.
The conversation opens with Socrates running into Glaucon and osten-
sibly commending him for his decision to lead the city since this will bring
him honor and fame and benefit Glaucon, his friends, family, and city
(..). Xenophon reports, “When Glaucon heard this, he felt proud and
gladly lingered” (..). Having snared his prey, Socrates proceeds to
interrogate him on how precisely he will set out to help the city since he
seeks to be honored by it (..). When this question stumps Glaucon (“he
was silent, as if considering for the first time how to begin” his public
service) (..), Socrates helpfully provides him with the opportunity to
demonstrate what he knows about Athens’ public finances, military
resources, and other matters that will enable him to advise the city success-
fully (.–). In each case, Glaucon is forced to concede that he does not
actually know anything, and at one point he even acknowledges that he is
simply conjecturing about what would be expedient for the city (..).
When Glaucon expresses exasperation that he must be knowledgeable even
about the grain supply to advise the city (“That is an enormous task that you
are suggesting, if one is obliged to look after that sort of thing!”) (..),
Socrates advises him to learn how to manage a single household before
seeking to manage an entire city, and proposes that he could do so for his
uncle, whose estate needs tending to. When Glaucon indicates that he
would be glad to do so but cannot persuade his uncle to allow this, Socrates
asks incredulously, “You cannot persuade your uncle, and yet you suppose
you will be able to make all the Athenians, including your uncle, follow your
advice?” (..). Socrates concludes with a warning of how dangerous it is
to seek glory as an advisor to the public if one does not have the extensive
knowledge needed to succeed (..–).
Although Glaucon is the immediate target of Socrates’ criticism and
ridicule, there is a strong element of social satire as Socrates pillories a


On Xenophon’s frequent equation of the skills needed to manage a household (oikos) and to govern
a city, see Dorion and Bandini a: –. The uncle in question may well be Charmides,
notwithstanding the doubts of Dorion and Bandini (a: ).

Dorion and Bandini (a: –) observe that Xenophon’s Socrates, who emphasizes that
aspiring politicians must acquire technical knowledge, diverges from Plato’s Socrates, who focuses
exclusively on the importance of their acquiring moral knowledge. Nonetheless, Xenophon’s
Socrates still views moral knowledge as essential for a politician, as is especially evident in his
conversation with Euthydemus (Mem. .); cf. ibid. .
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
member of the elite whose ambitions and confidence are out of sync with
his abilities and training. Glaucon, like other members of the elite in
the Memorabilia, as we shall see, has a great desire for glory and fame
(.., ), and his ambition for these sends him precipitously into the
political sphere without sufficient preparation or knowledge. He
arrogantly assumes that all that is required of him to lead the state is
that he wishes this to be so – thus, Socrates ironically inquires at the start
of the conversation, “Have you made up your mind to be our head of
state?” (..). When Socrates warns Glaucon that he is overreaching
when he attempts to speak and act in connection with matters that he
does not understand, he tellingly speaks of Glaucon’s risk of “falling”
(sphaleron: ), a hazard to which arrogant aristocrats on the tragic stage
are also vulnerable. Glaucon thus serves as a monitory example to elite
Athenians that future leaders must undergo training and become knowl-
edgeable, and it is perilous to seek to lead without this preparation.
Clearly, not all members of the elite are worthy of leading the city,
and, in fact, as Xenophon’s Socrates states explicitly later in the Memo-
rabilia, while many men seek to lead, only some succeed (..–).
If, according to Xenophon, only some members of the elite are truly
capable of leading the city, what political role does he envision for other
elite Athenians? He suggests that it is possible for such men to serve the
city in less conspicuous ways, to judge from the contrast he draws between
Critias and Alcibiades, who sought out Socrates simply to advance their
political careers (..), and his other companions, including Crito,
who kept company with him not that they might give speeches in the
Assembly or in court, but that they might become gentlemen (kaloi
kagathoi), and be able to deal effectively with house and household, relatives
and friends, and city and citizens. (..)
That men may be useful to the city and their fellow citizens without
serving in conspicuous political roles suggests that even a lower level of
political engagement is honorable and can serve the common good.
Although Xenophon does not elaborate here on precisely what this
lower, yet beneficial, level of political engagement might entail, his


Cf. E. Hipp. , Supp. .

There is no need to see this passage, as Dorion and Bandini (: ) do, as difficult to reconcile
with .., where Socrates speaks of producing as many competent politicians as possible. Socrates
encourages companions like Charmides (.) who have the potential to be successful in politics to
step forward and lead, but he recognizes that this path is not appropriate for all his associates
(cf. Tuplin : ).
 Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
portrayal of Ischomachus in the Oeconomicus provides one example of how
a member of the elite might do his civic duty without stepping into the
political limelight. Ischomachus conscientiously manages his own estate in
such a way that he can not only provide for himself and his household but
also perform liturgies for the city (.; cf. ., ., Mem. ..) and
spend generously to adorn it (.). He also practices oratory at home so
that, if needed, he can defend himself in court, bring a volunteer prose-
cution against a general, or step forward to address and advise the city in
the Assembly (.–). So, too, he practices horsemanship in case he is
needed in the cavalry (., ). Although Ischomachus is autonomous
and self-sufficient in running his well-managed estate, this does not mean
that he has sought to withdraw or escape from political life. In fact, because
the skills involved in managing a household are very similar to those
required to manage the city, as Socrates suggests to Glaucon in the
Memorabilia (..–), a good household manager like Ischomachus is
developing skills that will serve the city should he ever assume a position of
leadership within it.

Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders

If qualified members of the elite have a responsibility to lead the demo-
cratic city, precisely which qualifications do they need and how can they
obtain these? Xenophon makes it clear that hopeful politicians must not
only be effective speakers but also have the proper moral compass and
detailed knowledge of the city’s affairs if they are to benefit rather than
harm the city. His treatment of Critias and Alcibiades illustrates how
dangerous it is for the city to be led by unprincipled men; and his
depiction of Glaucon shows how absurd it is for a man without practical
knowledge of the city’s affairs to put himself forward as an advisor to the
city. Consistent with this is the way that Xenophon’s Socrates urges his
elite interlocutors to set aside the naive notion that they are worthy to rule
simply because of their wealth or high birth, and to seek out an education
in moral virtue and practical knowledge and skills that will enable them to
lead the city responsibly and well.
Xenophon’s most explicit and extended discussion of Socrates’ rejec-
tion of high birth and wealth as qualifications in themselves for leading


Although Ischomachus focuses on forensic oratory in his exercises at home, he also seems to practice
for presenting speeches in a deliberative setting (Oec. .).

On Ischomachus, see further in Chapter .
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
the city and his advocacy instead of education for prospective leaders
comes at the opening of Book . Socrates, he declares, was in love not
with those whose beauty was physical but rather with those naturally
disposed toward learning:
These good natures (tas agathas phuseis) he recognized by their quickness to
learn anything to which they applied themselves, ability to remember what
they learned, and desire for every kind of instruction through which it is
possible to manage well a household and city and in general to deal
effectively with men and the affairs of men. For he believed that such
men, if educated, would not only themselves prosper and manage their own
households well, but also be able to make their fellow-citizens and cities
prosper. (..)
Xenophon proceeds to describe how Socrates responded to individuals
who were hostile to learning and ignorant of how essential it is to good
leadership because of their excessive pride in their lineage or wealth.
Xenophon first addresses the case of men who “suppose themselves to
be good by nature (phusei agathous)” – a common assumption among the
self-designated gentlemen (kaloi kagathoi) of the Athenian upper class –
and relates how Socrates sought to teach them that “the natures that seem
to be best (aristai)” especially stand in need of education (..). Socrates,
he reports, invoked the analogy of naturally gifted (euphuestatoi) horses or
hounds, who develop into impressive and highly useful creatures with the
right training, but become the opposite of this if untrained, and asserts that
naturally gifted humans, who are “strong in spirit and capable of achieving
whatever they attempt,” can accomplish the greatest deeds if they are
educated, but without education their pride and impetuousness make
them prone to do the greatest harms (..). Although Socrates accepts
that “good breeding” may give some men exceptional potential to achieve
greatness, he rejects the notion that such men are automatically good in a
moral sense and insists that only if they seek out education can they hope
to do great good rather than harm. A truly “good nature” is one that seeks
out education (..; cf. .., ..), and an impressive lineage does not
guarantee a man such a nature.
Xenophon speaks of the second group of men who seek to lead without
the benefit of education as “those who pride themselves on their wealth”
and think this will suffice “for achieving whatever they wish and for


That high birth does not necessarily translate into good character is evident in the case of Callias
(Smp. .–). As Balot (:  n. ) observes, Xenophon “comes down heavily on the side of
‘nurture’ as opposed to ‘nature’ in the creation of human character.”
 Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
winning honor from men” (..). He reports that Socrates rebuked such
men, telling them that only “fools” and “simpletons” would think that
they can determine what is expedient without education and that other
men will hold them in high regard on the basis of their wealth if they are
clearly not “good at anything” (..).
Although these criticisms of the arrogance of the high born and
wealthy – overlapping groups despite Xenophon’s separate treatment
of them – recall Xenophon’s scathing evaluation of Critias and
Alcibiades as men “exalted by their birth” and “elated by their wealth”
(..), they also apply to many of the elite interlocutors who appear
in conversation with Socrates throughout the Memorabilia. Indeed,
after offering this assessment of the elite attributes that can lead men to
devalue education, Xenophon immediately turns to the case of Euthy-
demus, a young elite Athenian who arrogantly supposes that the large
library he has accumulated with his wealth automatically makes him
wise and obviates his need to be educated by others. Socrates’ encoun-
ters with Euthydemus, as described by Xenophon, constitute a com-
pelling case study of the vanity of the elite and the need for future
leaders to be truly educated.
When Xenophon introduces Socrates’ conversations with Euthydemus,
he highlights his elite status:
I will now relate how Socrates dealt with those who thought they had
received the best education and prided themselves on their wisdom
(epi sophiai). He learned that Euthydemus, the handsome (ton kalon), had
collected many writings of celebrated poets and wise men, and therefore
supposed himself to stand out from his peers in wisdom, and had high
hopes of surpassing all men in ability to speak and act. (..)
In identifying Euthydemus as handsome (kalos), Xenophon reminds the
reader of his appearance earlier in the Memorabilia as Critias’ eromenos and
as the object of Critias’ base lust (..–). His association with
Critias in a pederastic relationship points to his elite status, as does the
fact that he is wealthy enough to amass a large personal library. And like
other elite Athenians in the Memorabilia, Euthydemus has a driving


Although Dorion and Bandini (b: –) may be right that the Memorabilia has no examples of
interlocutors who completely eschew education because they believe their high birth or riches makes
this unnecessary (..–), it is full of members of the elite whose lineage or wealth makes them
overconfident about their ability to lead the city and who therefore stand in need of Socratic
intervention and education.

On Euthydemus’ identity, see Dorion and Bandini b: –.

On the high cost of books in Athens, see Harris : –.
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
ambition to lead and believes that he is ready to do so even though he has
not sought out a real education.
Euthydemus assumes that just because he has accumulated the trap-
pings of knowledge in his extensive library this makes him wise and he
therefore has no need of education. His confusion of surface with
substance is perhaps natural for a man of his class, and not least for one
whose own physical beauty has marked him out as kalos in the eyes of his
admirers. Socrates, who values inner virtue over external beauty in his
associates (.., ..–), proves to be just what Euthydemus needs, as
he challenges Euthydemus’ false assumptions about how much he knows
and his ability to lead without being properly taught.
Because Euthydemus is a challenging subject, Socrates approaches him
on three different occasions at the saddler’s shop where he spends time as
he seeks to break down Euthydemus’ defenses and to engage and enlighten
him. On the first occasion (..), Socrates and some of his companions
go to the saddler’s shop, and one of the latter asks in Euthydemus’
presence whether Themistocles stood out as the right man to lead Athens
because he spent time in the company of some wise man or due to his
natural ability (phusei). Socrates, seeking “to shake up” (kinein) Euthyde-
mus, responds emphatically that it would be absurd to think that when
competent teachers are needed to make men excel in the minor crafts, the
ability to lead a city comes to men automatically (apo tautomatou). This
brief episode, in which Euthydemus says nothing, is the prelude to two
longer episodes (..–, ..–) in which Socrates elaborates on how
essential it is for someone seeking to lead the city as rhētōr or general to
be educated.
In Socrates’ second encounter with him, once again Euthydemus does
not speak, but this time Socrates directly challenges his assumption that he


When Xenophon speaks of Euthydemus’ ambition to surpass others “in ability to speak and act,” he
is referring to his political ambitions as is clear from ..; cf. ..–; Dorion and Bandini :
ccvi–ccvii.

Socrates’ critique of Euthydemus is based on the fact that he merely collects and accumulates books
(.., .., ..) – no mention is made of his reading them – and has given no thought to their
content; his books are just another manifestation of his wealth. Xenophon’s Socrates is not hostile
to books per se, as is evident from his declaration that they are treasure-houses (thēsaurous) of
wisdom that can “enrich their possessors with excellence” (..). Dorion and Bandini (b:
–) are too quick to equate Xenophon’s Socrates with Plato’s Socrates, who is adamantly opposed
to reliance on the written word (Phdr. b–b).

Xenophon does not portray Socrates’ education of Euthydemus as a seduction, pace Danzig :
–.

Thucydides (..), by contrast, emphasizes Themistocles’ natural talent (cf. Tamiolaki :
–).
 Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
can competently lead without the benefit of studying with a knowledgeable
teacher. In a brilliant bit of satire, Socrates envisions how Euthydemus, in
his current state of ignorance, might open an address to the Assembly:
Men of Athens, I have never yet learned anything from anyone, nor, when
I have heard that certain persons are capable in speech and action, have
I sought to meet them, nor have I been at pains to find a teacher from
among those who understand these matters. On the contrary, I have
consistently avoided not only learning anything from anybody, but even
giving the impression of doing so. Nevertheless, I shall offer you whatever
advice comes to me of its own accord (apo tautomatou). (..)
In case Euthydemus misses his point, Socrates proceeds to observe that it
would be just as ridiculous for someone seeking the office of public
physician to address the public and boast of his careful avoidance of
instruction from any physician (..). While this evokes laughter from
those present, Euthydemus remains silent but is now attentive as Socrates
goes on to reiterate that just as men learning other crafts need the guidance
of teachers to become proficient at what they do, so too do those who wish
to become capable speakers and statesmen; men are wrong to assume they
can do these things “on their own” (automatoi) since these activities require
more rather than less training than other crafts (..; cf. ..) – “for
many more are interested in them, but far fewer succeed” (..).
Finally, when Socrates senses that Euthydemus is more receptive to
what he is saying, he goes by himself to the saddler’s shop and engages him
in an extensive conversation (..–) that exposes the gap between his
political ambitions and his current capabilities. Socrates first asks Euthy-
demus about his large collection of books, which Euthydemus indicates he
continues to expand “until I shall acquire as much as I am able” (..),
and Socrates congratulates him on accumulating treasure-houses (thēsaur-
ous) of wisdom rather than gold and silver since “the thoughts of the wise
enrich their possessors with excellence (aretēi)” (..). Although Euthy-
demus takes this as praise from Socrates that he is on his way to wisdom
(..), Socrates proceeds to demonstrate through his interrogation that
while Euthydemus believes his large library gives him wisdom and will
make him good at the “kingly craft” of leading (..–; cf. ..),


For attestations of this office in Athens, see Dorion and Bandini b:  n. .

Socrates’ “praise” has a sharp edge to it: since Euthydemus merely accumulates books, as a wealthy
man might, they do not enrich him with excellence.

On ruling others as a “kingly craft” (basilikē technē) in Xenophon, see Dorion and Bandini a:
–.
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
he has given little real thought to what good leadership entails. In discuss-
ing what constitutes justice, for example, Euthydemus fails to understand
the subtleties of this for a general, who may reasonably deceive the city’s
enemies and plunder their goods (..), and on occasion may even need
to deceive his own soldiers (..); he is thereby compelled to acknow-
ledge that his ignorance makes him slavish (..; cf. ..) and that he
has not received the sort of education appropriate to one seeking to
become a gentleman (..). Euthydemus, moreover, shows himself to
be ignorant of what a leader should know concerning the importance of
self-knowledge (..–), which things are good and evil (..–),
and the true nature of the dēmos within a democracy (..–). By the
end of this conversation, Euthydemus is battered and dejected, but comes
to be one of Socrates’ regular companions, and Socrates, having shaken
Euthydemus out of his self-satisfied and ignorant state through his barrage
of questions, henceforth “avoided confounding him, and began to explain
very plainly and clearly what he thought it was necessary for Euthydemus
to know and what practices were best for him to follow” (..).
Although some of Socrates’ interlocutors, like Glaucon, seem to have
little hope of becoming “gentlemen” in the Socratic sense and thereby
worthy of ruling, Euthydemus emerges as a more hopeful case. Notwith-
standing his association with the brutish Critias and an arrogance that so
often accompanies wealth, Euthydemus proves to be educable and able to
benefit from Socrates’ intervention (cf. ., ., .). This episode, at least,
offers a fairly optimistic view of the capacity of the elite, if willing, to
become educated and worthy to hold the offices for which they are
ambitious.

In his conversations with Euthydemus, Socrates envisions his interlocutor,

as an ambitious member of the elite, seeking to serve as rhētōr (..–) or
general (..–). Much of Book  of the Memorabilia consists of
Socrates’ conversations with elite Athenians concerning these positions of
leadership, and what they require of those who hold them. As we have
seen, Xenophon, through the contrasting examples of Glaucon (.) and
Charmides (.), sketches out what qualifies a man to advise the Athenian


Moore () argues that Socrates in his conversation with Euthydemus does not limit self-
knowledge to knowledge of one’s powers and capacities but includes knowledge of justice and
goodness.

On Xenophon’s portrayal of the stages of Socrates’ education of Euthydemus, see Morrison :
–; on Socratic elenchus here and elsewhere in the Memorabilia, see Dorion and Bandini :
cxviii–clxxxii; cf. Dorion : .
 Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
Assembly as rhētōr. The five conversations that precede these (.–) focus
on the attributes that Xenophon believes a member of the elite should have
in order to exercise leadership in the military sphere, as they portray
Socrates as an educator and often challenger of men who aspire to, or
already hold, positions of military leadership.
At the opening of Book , Xenophon states, “I will now describe how
Socrates helped those who were eager to win distinction by making them
apply themselves (epimeleis) to the object of their ambitions” (..) and
then proceeds to present five conversations about military leadership. Four
of these concern the generalship (., ., ., .), and one focuses on the
related office of hipparch, that is, leader of the cavalry (.). Whereas the
first three interlocutors are unnamed, the last two are identified,
Nicomachides and the younger Pericles. Let us consider briefly the first
three conversations, and then focus on the last two, which offer an
especially critical view of elite seekers of military office.
The first conversation is with an anonymous young man, a companion of
Socrates, who seeks to be a general. Socrates, aware of his ambitions, had
encouraged him to seek out the sophist Dionysodorus, who was offering to
teach men how to be generals (..), on the grounds that it would be
irresponsible for someone seeking the generalship not to learn about it since
the state’s fate can hinge on a general’s success or failure (). When the
young man returns from Dionysodorus, however, Socrates interrogates him
concerning what he learned, and is scandalized that Dionysodorus taught
him only about tactics () and even this not well, as it turns out (–).
Socrates insists there is much more to generalship than just tactics:
For a general must be able to get together the resources for making war and
provide supplies for his soldiers; he must be inventive, active and attentive,
persevering and shrewd, both friendly and harsh, both straightforward and
subtle, a good protector and a good thief, lavish and rapacious, generous
and grasping, cautious and aggressive, and a man must have a great many
other qualities, natural and acquired (kai phusei kai epistēmēi), if he is to be a
good general. (..)
Generalship, according to Socrates, thus requires a combination of practical
knowledge and personal traits and skills. Notwithstanding Socrates’


On the meaning of epimeleis here and the importance of epimeleia in Mem. .– and elsewhere in
Xenophon, see Dorion and Bandini a: –. Xenophon represents Socrates’ education of the
elite positively and optimistically in .. and throughout the conversations of .–; I do not
believe he is seeking to demonstrate “the limitations of Socratic teaching, and also highlight the
difficulty of imposing these ideas in a democratic context” (Tamiolaki : ).

Cf. Cyr. ..–.
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
apparently superior knowledge of the subject, he sends his young interloc-
utor back to Dionysodorus to ask him more about generalship () and
presumably to expose his shortcomings as instructor. Although one may
doubt that the young man will receive satisfactory answers given the limita-
tions of Dionysodorus’ prior instruction, Socrates makes it clear that it is
incumbent on him, as an aspirant to the generalship, to seek actively from all
possible sources the knowledge that he will need to be a successful general.
The second conversation (.) is a one-sided one in which Socrates
expounds on the responsibilities of generalship to a man who has been
chosen as general. Although his interlocutor’s responses are not recorded,
we may infer from Socrates’ discourse on the subject that he feels his
interlocutor, though already elected as general, can still benefit from
instruction concerning it. Taking as his starting point Homer’s designation
of Agamemnon as “shepherd of the people” (Il. .), Socrates empha-
sizes that a good general is concerned for the welfare and prosperity of
those who chose him, which entails ensuring that his men are safe and have
provisions and that they prevail over their enemies and thus achieve
prosperity (..). Xenophon observes that in this way, Socrates “stripped
away all other virtues, and left just the ability to make his followers
prosper” (..). Thus, although the generalship brings honor to its
holder and men seek it on this basis (..), Socrates insists that it carries
with it a responsibility above all to serve the common good.
In the third conversation (.), Socrates speaks with a young man who
has been elected as hipparch – Athenians elected two hipparchs each year
to lead the cavalry, and these officials played a role analogous to that of the
generals over the hoplites ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. .). Notwithstanding his
selection for this important office, the young man appears not to know
much about how to carry out the responsibilities of his office. Although


The rhetorical flourish with which Socrates sets out his knowledge of generalship in .. suggests
that he not only knows more about this than the sophist Dionysodorus but can convey this in an
elegant manner that a sophist might envy. On Socrates’ evident knowledge of generalship, see
Dorion and Bandini a: –.

On the problem of why Socrates sent his interlocutor to Dionysodorus in the first place and then
sends him back again to the sophist despite his manifest shortcomings, see Dorion and Bandini
a: –, –.

On this formulation of what is most important in a general, see Dorion and Bandini a: –;
cf. Jones and Sharma : –.

On the numerous parallels between Socrates’ advice to this hipparch and Xenophon’s advice to
hipparchs in his Hipparchicus, see Dorion and Bandini a: –.

In both . and ., Xenophon’s Socrates focuses on the personal deficiencies of elected officials
rather than on the dēmos’ mistake in electing them; in ., Socrates defends the rationality of the
people’s election of Antisthenes to his indignant rival, Nicomachides (cf. Gray a: ).
 Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
he agrees with Socrates that someone should seek a cavalry command
because he seeks to improve the cavalry and “hand it on better” when he
leaves office, and to benefit the city by leading the cavalry in battle (..),
the young man turns out not to have considered how to improve the
horses (..–) or the cavalrymen (..–), or how to win the cavalry’s
confidence and obedience (..–). Socrates emphasizes especially how
important it is for a cavalry commander to win his men’s willing obedience
and to inspire them to pursue honor keenly. Men will be willing to obey
their commander if he can make it clear that he knows best what needs to
be done (..) and can show them that “it will be more honorable and
safer” to obey him than not to (..), and the key to achieving this is for
the commander to be a capable speaker since “the best teachers rely most
on the spoken word and those with the deepest knowledge of the greatest
subjects are the best talkers” (..). Through his words, moreover, a
commander can encourage those under him to pursue honor (..;
cf. ..), which Athenians are predisposed to do given their love of honor
(philotimia) and competitive zeal to surpass others (..–). Thus,
Xenophon suggests, it is not only rhētores who rely on the power of speech
to carry out their duties, but military leaders as well. Socrates’ interloc-
utor seems attentive and eager to follow his advice (..), and we are left
with the impression that Socrates has once again served the city by helping
to ensure it has competent leaders (cf. ..).
A different scenario emerges in the fourth conversation, in which
Socrates’ interlocutor, Nicomachides, has failed to be elected general
and gripes about how one of the men chosen instead of him lacks
qualifications:
“Socrates, the men of Athens being the sort of people they are, have not
elected me, although I have been worn out in service as a regular conscript,
as a leader of a company, and as a commander of a regiment, and have
received all these wounds from the enemy” – as he spoke, he drew back his
clothes and exhibited the scars – “but they have chosen Antisthenes, who
has never served as hoplite and has done nothing remarkable in the cavalry,
and knows nothing except how to pile up money.” (..)


Xenophon emphasizes throughout his writings that it is important for a leader to win the willing
obedience of those under him: see Gray b: – and Dorion and Bandini a: –.

On the indispensable role of logos in motivating human beings, see also Mem. ..–,
..–; Oec. .–; Eq. Mag. .–, .–, ., .; Cyr. ..–, ..–.

In his Anabasis, Xenophon portrays himself as a general who uses speech effectively, as Dorion and
Bandini (a: –) note. On Xenophon’s portrayal of himself as a masterful democratic rhētōr
in the Anabasis, see Chapter .
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
Nicomachides’ disdain for men who merely “pile up money,” whom he
goes on to equate disparagingly with “merchants” (..), suggests that he,
like most of Socrates’ interlocutors in the Memorabilia, is a traditionally
minded member of the elite. Socrates proceeds to challenge Nicoma-
chides’ arrogant stance that prior service as an officer and battle scars
automatically qualify him for the generalship by demonstrating that Antis-
thenes brings managerial skills to his office that will serve him and his
troops well.
Socrates makes the case that Antisthenes, who is clearly a wealthy man,
has extensive managerial experience as chorēgos, that is, as a producer of
choral productions for the city, and as a supervisor of his own estate
(oikonomos), which will serve him well as general. As chorēgos, Antisthe-
nes is eager for victory (..), and his choruses have always been victori-
ous; this success stems not from Antisthenes’ knowledge of music or how
to train a chorus, but rather his ability to identify and hire men who are
competent in these areas. Although Nicomachides protests that managing
a chorus and an army are very different things and a general surely cannot
find others to devise tactics and to do the fighting for him, Socrates posits
that if a general can search out and select the best men in military affairs,
he will likely be victorious; and Antisthenes, moreover, will probably also
spend his own money more lavishly to ensure victory in war for the city
than he does to win choral competitions for his tribe. Socrates generalizes:
“I mean that whatever a man is in charge of, if he knows what is needed
and is able to provide it, he will be a good supervisor (prostatēs) of it,
whether he is in charge of a chorus, an estate, a city, or an army” (..).
When Nicomachides goes on to object to the analogy that Socrates
draws between a good manager of an estate and a good general (..),
Socrates highlights similarities between these positions and what leads to
success within them. In each role one must make subordinates willing and
obedient, put the right man in the right place, punish the bad and reward
the good, win goodwill from subordinates, attract allies and helpers, guard
what one possesses, work diligently and hard, and prevail over enemies
(..–). Furthermore, a good estate manager knows that “nothing
profits or pays like a victory in the field, and nothing is so utterly
unprofitable and entails such heavy loss as a defeat” and will therefore


On the disdain of traditional members of the elite for money-making, see Chapter .

On whether Xenophon’s Antisthenes is anachronistically based on a known liturgist of this name
who was active in the fourth century, see Davies : –.

On Xenophon’s invocation of this principle here and elsewhere, see Dorion and Bandini a:
, –, and Gray b: –.
 Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
act prudently and take the steps needed to defeat the enemy (..).
Socrates concludes that there is little difference between managing private
matters and public affairs: “Don’t look down on estate managers (oikono-
mikōn andrōn), Nicomachides. For the management of private concerns
(tōn idiōn) differs only in degree from that of public affairs (tōn koinōn)”
(..).
Although Socrates may seem to his modern readers to press too far the
analogy between the good chorēgos and the good general and that between
the good oikonomos and the good general, it is important to appreciate
the context in which he does so. Because Nicomachides takes a very
narrow and limited view of what qualifies a man for the generalship,
Socrates in adversarial mode offers an alternative vision of what matters
most in choosing a good general, namely, managerial aptitude and expe-
rience. The vehemence with which he advances this model reflects the fact
that Nicomachides is disdainful of the managerial skills of a chorēgos and
oikonomos and fails to appreciate that leading men well entails skills that
can be honed in different spheres. Notably, Socrates does not assert that
military experience is irrelevant to the generalship; rather, he suggests that
experience as hoplite and even as officer does not necessarily make one a
good candidate for the generalship. Antisthenes, in fact, has experience as a
cavalryman – though Nicomachides denigrates this as unremarkable
(..) – and most importantly has the managerial skills that are critical
for a general to be successful.
Socrates’ fifth conversation concerning military leadership is the longest
of his exchanges on this topic, and most revealing for his critique of elite
aspirants to the generalship. In this conversation, Socrates speaks with
Pericles, “the son of the great Pericles,” just after he has been elected
general (..; cf. ..). Although the time frame is vague, Xenophon
may well be placing this conversation at the start of Pericles’ generalship in
, which culminated in his execution by the Athenians as one of the
generals at Arginusae charged with failing to rescue the shipwrecked
Athenian sailors after the battle. Although Xenophon in his Hellenica


Dorion and Bandini (a: ) note that Antisthenes and Ischomachus in the Oeconomicus
resemble one another as excellent administrators whose skills in managing an estate qualify them to
manage a city as well.

In Mem. ., ., and ..–, in fact, Socrates emphasizes the importance of generals having
expertise specifically in the military sphere: see Dorion and Bandini a: –, –.

Dorion and Bandini (a: ) are mistaken to say that Antisthenes has no military experience.
Many Athenian generals had served earlier in the cavalry: see Spence : –.

Although the younger Pericles may have served as general in  and , his only firmly attested
generalship was in : see Develin : , , .
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
offers a sympathetic portrayal of the generals at Arginusae and is critical of
the dēmos’ punishment of them, his presentation of the younger Pericles
in the Memorabilia is not a flattering one. Indeed, he emerges in his
conversation with Socrates as ill-suited to, and unprepared for, the gener-
alship, and thereby provides vivid evidence, as the son of Athens’ famous
general and statesman, that ability to serve as general is not inherited and
that the generalship should not be viewed as the birthright of any elite
Athenian.
Although Socrates initially states optimistically, “I am hopeful, Pericles,
that, now you have become general, our city will be better and more
famous in warfare and conquer its enemies” (..), the ensuing conver-
sation suggests that confidence in Pericles’ prospects as general is not
warranted. The scion of the great Pericles emerges as a petulant and
pessimistic critic of the city, who is all too ready to blame others for the
city’s problems and fails to see his own faults and those of men like him
who embark on the generalship without knowing the first thing about how
to be a successful general.
Pericles’ limits are evident from the start when he replies to Socrates’
statement of confidence in his ability to improve the city’s situation through
his generalship: “I would wish that it might be as you say, Socrates, but how
these changes are to come about I have no idea” (..). It turns out that
Pericles not only has given little thought to how to turn around the city’s
current fortunes but also is profoundly pessimistic about this even being
possible, as he paints a bleak picture of the city’s situation at home and
abroad. Pericles asserts that the city’s affairs are in disarray, with conflict and
dissension rampant in the Assembly and law courts and citizens disdainful of
those in authority (..–); and the Boeotians, buoyed by victories over
the Athenians, threaten to invade Attica even without Spartan assistance
(..) while indiscipline plagues the city’s military forces, with hoplites and
cavalrymen unwilling to obey their commanders (..; cf. ..). In
Pericles’ view, the city has fallen greatly from its past glory (.., , , ),
and things could get even worse: “I am always dreading that some unbear-
able evil may befall the city” (..). Pericles’ despair at Athens’ current


On the Arginusae affair, see Chapter .

I do not see any irony, as Tamiolaki (; cf. Pangle : –) does, in Xenophon’s reference
to the “great Pericles”; the father’s greatness stands in sharp contrast to the son’s ineptitude.

Although Pericles may be anticipating the city’s defeat in the Peloponnesian War (Breitenbach
: col. .–), he may be prescient instead concerning the imminent civil war among
Athenians in / – note his reference in .. to “great enmity and mutual hatred among
citizens.”
 Toward a New Elite: Making Good Leaders 
situation and prospects and his helplessness in addressing the city’s problems
stand in contrast to his famous father’s optimism about the city even in hard
times and his ability to offer advice and lead in time of crisis, as portrayed by
Thucydides (.–). One has the strong sense here with the younger
Pericles that the apple has fallen far from the tree (cf. ..).
Socrates, by contrast, comes across as an optimist and proud patriot in
his exchange with Pericles. Although he agrees that the Athenians have
fallen from their previous exalted position and that they have become less
disciplined, he believes the situation is remediable (..–, ). Socrates
is confident that Athenians surpass all others in their love of honor
(philotimia) (..) and that they just need to be reminded of their
unparalleled tradition of excellence from mythical times to the Persian
Wars and called on to imitate their ancestors (..). Socrates’ appeal to
the superiority of the Athenian character and the legacy of excellence of
Athenians over time broadly recalls the Thucydidean Pericles’ funeral
oration (.–), and this is surely no accident. The younger Pericles,
who lacks his father’s confidence in Athenians to prevail over others, needs
to be reminded of the manifold merits and potential of the people he has
been called on to lead as general.
On the key issue of Athenian indiscipline Socrates also diverges from the
younger Pericles, who portrays this as prevalent in all spheres of Athenian
life and who holds up Sparta as a model of proper discipline and respect for
authority (..). Socrates points to numerous areas where Athenians
show good discipline and obedience – in their fleets, athletic contests, and
choral competitions (..) – and invokes the Council of the Areopagus
as a paragon of good discipline (..), and on this basis argues that one
must not despair of Athenian discipline. As to Pericles’ lament that the


McNamara (: ; cf. –) believes that the three conversations in .– map the decline in
the quality of Athenian politics and leadership, but decline figures only in ..

On the importance of discipline (eutaxia) in Xenophon, see Dorion and Bandini a: .

Dorion and Bandini (a: –) argue that Socrates, in emphasizing the need of Athenians to
strive for excellence (aretē), is urging them to cultivate not moral virtue but rather military virtue,
that is, bravery, but this is not a distinction that Athenians would make. On courage as a democratic
virtue, see Balot .

On the evocation of the epitaphic tradition here, see Gray a: , with  n. , and Dorion
and Bandini a: –.

Cf. Gray a: .

As Gray (a: , cf. ) observes, there is overlap between the younger Pericles’ admiring view of
Sparta, which Socrates seems to share (..), and that set forth in the Lac.Pol. (esp. .); cf.
Dorion and Bandini a: –.

Socrates’ praise of the discipline of average Athenians in the fleet stands in contrast to his
denigration of average Athenians in the Assembly at ..– (cf. Kroeker : ; Gray
a: –).
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
city’s hoplites and cavalry are the most insubordinate of all (..), and
this in the military sphere where good discipline and obedience to author-
ity are most critical (..), Socrates places the blame for this squarely on
the city’s generals rather than on those under them: “This may be due to
the fact that the least knowledgeable men lead them” (..). Whereas no
one would attempt to exercise authority over harpists, choristers, dancers,
and athletes if he were not knowledgeable about these things and he could
explain where he had learned about them, “Most of our generals are
improvisors (autoschediazousin)” (..). Just as Socrates elsewhere insists
that the city’s political leaders, rhētores, should treat their avocation as a
craft that requires active study and training (..), here he suggests that
the city’s generals should also treat their pursuit as a serious craft to be
actively learned through education.
Socrates thus deftly turns the tables on the younger Pericles, who as
newly elected general can only see what is wrong with the city and its
troops and does not realize that he and others like him may be culpable for
seeking the generalship without having any knowledge about it. Socrates
charitably allows that Pericles may be exceptional:
Certainly, however, I do not believe that you are one of this sort. I suppose you
can say when you began to learn to be a general just as easily as when you began
to learn wrestling. I expect too that besides keeping a large stock of stratagems
that you have inherited from your father, you have amassed a great many from
every source from which you could learn anything useful for a generalship.
I think too that you take much trouble that you may not unconsciously lack
any knowledge useful for a generalship; and if you find that you do not know
something of this sort, you seek out those who have this knowledge, sparing
neither gifts nor favors, in order that you may learn what you do not know
from them and may have qualified persons as your helpers. (..–)
In the guise of explaining how Pericles – unlike most generals – has surely
exerted himself to become knowledgeable about the generalship, Socrates
exposes his interlocutor as a typical know-nothing general who has not
sought out what a general should know. Similarly, when Socrates proposes
that Pericles has inherited knowledge of the generalship from his father
and safeguarded this, he calls attention to the fact that Pericles, in fact, has
received no such inheritance and that knowledge of how to succeed as
general is not something that automatically passes down through the
generations, as some elite Athenian might suppose.


In light of these barbs, I would hesitate to describe Socrates as benevolent toward the younger
Pericles (Dorion and Bandini a: ).
 Politics and Philia among Gentlemen 
To his credit, the younger Pericles understands that he is, in fact, being
criticized by Socrates for not having made the effort to learn what a general
should, and readily agrees that Socrates is correct (..). Socrates pro-
ceeds to begin to remedy this deficit by talking to Pericles about how best
to protect the frontier between Athens and Boeotia (..–) and exhort-
ing him to put this into practice since this will bring honor to him and
good to the state (..). If the conversation ends on a happy note with
Pericles starting to learn about the generalship, it is disconcerting that he is
already in office and about to take command of Athenian troops, and
Xenophon’s audience would know that Pericles’ career as general did not
end well. Xenophon’s Socrates at least has done his best in this encounter
to steer another member of the elite in the right direction, in pursuit of the
knowledge he will need to lead men.

Politics and Philia among Gentlemen

If, according to Xenophon, it is incumbent on elite Athenians to lead the
democratic city and to acquire the competence to do so effectively, he
makes it clear that they cannot expect to lead successfully without the
collaboration and support of other members of the city’s elite. To succeed,
he suggests, they will need to acquire the right sort of men as friends since
such individuals will help them achieve their political goals and they in
turn will benefit their friends as well as themselves and the city in the
exercise of political power. In encouraging the elite to make the most of
friendship (philia) in the political sphere, Xenophon not only invokes a
real feature of politics within the democratic city, where networks of elite
friends played a significant role, but also seeks to control and direct elite
philia so that it will lead to harmony for the city rather than conflict and
civil strife.
Xenophon explores elite philia in a series of conversations in Book  of
the Memorabilia, in which his Socrates speaks of the great value and utility
of friends. According to Socrates, philia is a precious “possession,” which
men tend to undervalue:


On the anachronism of ..–, which seems to allude to Athens’ situation after the Battle of
Leuctra in , see Dorion and Bandini : ccxlviii–ccxlix and a: , –.

See Rhodes : –; Mitchell and Rhodes : –; cf. Hansen : –, .

On Xenophon’s Socrates’ unabashedly utilitarian view of philia, see Dorion and Bandini a:
–. Xenophon represents Socrates himself as a useful supporter of his friends in private and
public life (ibid. –).
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
He said that he observed most men knew the quantity of their other
possessions, however numerous they were, but as for their friends, few as
they were, they not only did not know how many they had, but when they
tried to furnish an inventory in answer to inquiry, they revised their opinion
of those whom they had previously reckoned as friends, which showed how
much they thought about friends. Yet, if we compare a good friend with
any other possession, it must be obvious that the friend is far superior.
What horse or what yoke of oxen is as useful as the good friend? What slave
is so loyal and steadfast? What other possession is so thoroughly useful? The
good friend sets himself to supply all his friend’s deficiencies, whether in his
private concerns (tōn idiōn) or his public affairs (tōn koinōn). (..–)
Socrates elaborates on the mutual benefits of friendship in political life in a
conversation with Critobulus (.).
Socrates advises Critobulus to seek out gentlemen (kaloi kagathoi) as
friends (..; cf. ..) – not “gentlemen” in the socially exclusive sense
that aristocrats might invoke, but in the Socratic sense, that is, men of
outstanding moral excellence. Critobulus, according to Socrates, should
avoid certain types of men – those who lack control over their appetites,
are spendthrifts, care only for their own selfish profit, or are factious and
likely to provide enemies to their friends (..–) – and seek out their
opposites and in particular men who treat their current friends well
(..–). But to be successful in his hunt for virtuous friends, Crito-
bulus must first strive to become a good man himself so as to make himself
a desirable friend (.., ; cf. ..–).
Although it comes as no surprise that Socrates, who encourages his elite
interlocutors to become true gentlemen, would urge them to choose
similar men as their friends, his conversation with Critobulus takes an
intriguing turn when Socrates argues that such men, if they cooperate with
one another, can obtain and exercise political power in the city. Socrates
takes up the political implications of philia among gentlemen in response
to Critobulus’ concern that it may be difficult for gentlemen to be friends


In light of the familiar role of elite philia in politics in Athens, I do not believe, as Tamiolaki (:
; cf. ) proposes, that Xenophon here “introduces a new concept of individual friendship,
which relies on political premises.”

Although Socrates emphasizes here the importance of virtue in a friend, it becomes clear that he also
views competence, in whatever sphere a man is active, as critical as well: see .., with Gigon
: – and Dorion and Bandini a: .

Critobulus does not meet Socrates’ standards for self-control (enkrateia): he indulges his appetites and
spends freely to sustain his elite lifestyle: see Oec. .–; Mem. ..; Dorion and Bandini a:
–; cf. . Socrates is willing to help him in his hunt for friends (..) in the role of
“matchmaker” (..), and this extends to working to make him a friend of the city at large if he
gains political competence (..; cf. .., with Dorion and Bandini a: ; Smp. ., .).
 Politics and Philia among Gentlemen 
with one another since such men are apt to compete and quarrel with each
other (..–), and strive through factions (stasiazousi) “with one
another for leadership in states” (..). Socrates acknowledges this as a
real problem (..) but insists, “Nevertheless through all these barriers
friendship slips, and unites gentlemen (tous kalous te kagathous)” (..).
Such men, he argues, will moderate their appetites, refrain from harming
one another, and share their possessions, “giving their own goods into the
possession of their friends, and regarding their friend’s property as their
own” (..–). Most importantly, they will share political power
among themselves without strife:
Surely, then, it is likely that gentlemen (tous kalous kagathous) will share
public privileges too not only without harm to one another, but also to their
common benefit? For those who desire to attain political distinction and to
rule in order that they may have license to embezzle, to treat others with
violence, and to live in luxury, are likely to be unjust, wicked, and incapable
of cooperating with others. But if a man wishes for political distinction to
protect himself from injustice and to be able to help his friends in a just
cause, and by holding office he tries to do some good to his fatherland, why
should he not be able to cooperate with others like himself? Will he be less
capable of helping his friends, if he is allied with gentlemen? Will he be less
able to benefit his city, if he has other gentlemen as his collaborators? Even
in athletic contests it is clear that if the strongest were allowed to join forces
against the weaker, they would win all the events and they would carry off
all the prizes. This is not permitted in athletics, but in politics, where the
gentlemen are the strongest, nobody prevents anyone from combining with
anyone he likes to benefit the city; surely, then, it is profitable for a man to
prepare himself for public life by acquiring the best men (tous beltistous) as
friends, and to employ them as partners and collaborators in his activities,
rather than treat them as rivals. (..–)
In this remarkable passage, Socrates sketches out how the city’s elite can
exercise political power within the city not by overthrowing the democracy
but by cooperating and collaborating with one another in pursuit of their
mutual interests and those of the city.
This model for elite political behavior provides an alternative to, and
criticism of, the destructive behavior of Critias and the Thirty that led to
civil strife (stasis) in Athens in /. In the eyes of Xenophon, Critias
and his elite cronies, driven by an excess of ambition (philotimia) and
unconstrained by decency and moderation, engaged in rapacious behavior
toward both their elite peers and the Athenian dēmos and did immense

 
On this commonplace, see Dorion and Bandini a: –. Cf. Balot : –.
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
harm to the city. Xenophon’s Socrates, who is represented here and
elsewhere as an opponent of stasis and promoter of civic harmony (..,
..), rejects the sort of perversion of elite philia evident in the regime of
the Thirty and argues that the philia of virtuous gentlemen in the political
sphere will bring stability and good leadership to the city. Although it
may seem odd that Xenophon, writing after the disastrous reign of the
Thirty, has his Socrates envision elite philia serving the city rather than
harming it, this reflects his assumption that elite Athenians will inevitably
compete for political power within the democracy, and an optimism –
notwithstanding the episode of the Thirty – that elite philia can be
harnessed for the common good.
If Xenophon’s Socrates pragmatically accepts the social and political
reality that elite citizens will compete with one another to lead the city and
seeks to ensure that this will benefit rather than harm the city, he is also
pragmatic in his assessment of what motivates elite citizens to seek political
power. Here and elsewhere, Socrates acknowledges that elite Athenians
will benefit not only the city in exercising leadership but also themselves
and their friends. He does not view this as problematic since the city
and its elite leaders will benefit simultaneously from the exercise of the
friendship of gentlemen in the political sphere. Socrates is also not trou-
bled by the fact that elite men, by leaguing together, have an advantage
over other competitors for political power: he posits that it is only natural
for gentlemen to exploit their competitive advantage in the pursuit of
political power by pooling their talents and resources, and this leads to
benefits for the city and not just themselves.
Although Xenophon is more concerned with sketching out the impor-
tance of elite philia in politics than detailing precisely how elite friends


On Xenophon’s scathing depiction of the Thirty in his Hellenica, see Chapter .

When Xenophon has Socrates exhort Critobulus to shun as friends men who are greedy and
factious (stasiōdēs) (..–; cf. ..), he is probably thinking of men like Critias and his cronies.
Xenophon is very careful not to portray Socrates as a promoter of oligarchic revolution (pace
Bevilacqua : , ); I do not see “a certain insouciance about the way in which Socrates is
presented” in Mem. ..– (Tuplin : ).

Xenophon is vague about the time frame of the conversation between Critobulus and Socrates. If
he envisions it as antedating the establishment of the Thirty, then he shows his Socrates working in
advance of this to discourage the deployment of elite philia against the city; if he pictures it as
taking place after the fall of the Thirty, then Socrates is providing a corrective view of the proper
place of elite philia in the democratic city.

See above, note .

Although Socrates’ frank advice on how elite Athenians can deploy their philia with one another to
exert influence within the democracy is at odds with democratic ideology, elite collaboration in
democratic politics was likely commonplace (see above, note ) and this kind of strategic thinking
quite familiar to Xenophon’s elite Athenian readers (see Conclusions).
 Politics and Philia among Gentlemen 
support one another in political life, we perhaps get a hint of this in
Socrates’ conversation with Charmides. Socrates, as noted earlier, urges
Charmides to put himself forward as a speaker before the Athenian
Assembly because in private conversation he offers good advice to “those
who manage the city’s affairs” (..) and is comfortable in speaking
before “the first men in the city” (..). While Xenophon does not
provide details concerning the individuals involved and the settings of
these conversations, one can imagine Charmides, a member of the elite,
consulting privately with elite friends who are active in the public
sphere, and thereby supporting them and ultimately the city through
his prudent counsel.
If Xenophon does not elaborate further on how elite friends can use
their philia to achieve their political ends, he illustrates how the exploita-
tion of philia might be advantageous in civic life even for men who are not
politically ambitious in his account of Socrates’ conversation with Crito.
When Crito finds himself being harassed by sykophants, who threaten to
prosecute him on false charges unless he pays them off, and laments that
“life in Athens is difficult for a man who wants to mind his own business”
(..), Socrates advises him to befriend someone who can serve as his
“watchdog” and fend off these attacks on his behalf (..). The two of
them proceed to seek out Archedemus, “an excellent speaker and man of
affairs,” who is poor but honest, and Crito forms a friendship with him,
giving him farm produce and inviting him to his sacrifices (..); Arche-
demus, in gratitude, legally harasses Crito’s harassers, forcing them to drop
their suits and even pay compensation to Crito (..–), and goes on to
do the same for Crito’s friends as a favor to Crito (..–). Xenophon
concludes his story: “Henceforth, Archedemus was one of Crito’s friends
and held in honor by Crito’s other friends” (..).
This story attests not only to Socrates’ ingenuity but also to the efficacy
of deploying the philia of gentlemen for mutual benefit in civic life.
Interestingly, Archedemus, whom scholars reasonably assume to be the
historic democratic politician of this name, is labeled a poor man and
thus is not part of the city’s wealth elite like Crito. He is, however, a good
man and a good friend, and on this basis qualifies as a gentleman in the
Socratic sense, who can help other gentlemen in navigating the legal perils


On Crito’s lack of ambition to lead the city, see Mem. ...

On the plausibility of this identification and the liberties that Xenophon may be taking in his
representation of the poverty of Archedemus, see Christ : –; cf. Dorion and Bandini
a: –. I do not find Hooper’s objections (: –) to this identification compelling.
 Politics and the Gentleman in the Memorabilia
they face. The lesson would appear to be that a gentleman like Crito,
who is himself averse to the “troubles” of litigation to which members of
the elite are prone under the democracy, can live comfortably within the
democracy by befriending a good man like himself who can help him
defend his interests.

In the Memorabilia, Xenophon presents his reader with the topsy-turvy

world of late fifth-century Athens in which the city needs elite leadership
to prosper, but unqualified members of the elite put themselves forward to
lead and qualified ones, like Charmides, stand on the sidelines. Xeno-
phon’s Socrates, faced with this situation, intervenes forcefully and ener-
getically to educate the city’s elite, so as to produce as many competent
politicians as he can (..). In portraying Socrates in these terms,
Xenophon refutes the claim of Socrates’ prosecutors that he harmed the
city by showing that, in fact, he was its benefactor, and thereby sets the
record straight.
In my view, however, the Memorabilia has further ambitions, as Xen-
ophon seeks through it to instruct his contemporary audience of elite
Athenian readers in the first decades of the fourth century concerning
their important political role within the democracy. Notwithstanding the
destructive behavior of the Thirty and their elite supporters in the closing
years of the fifth century, the city continued in the fourth century to rely
on elite citizens to provide leadership as rhētores and generals, and it
remained essential that they actively seek to become qualified to play these
roles and not assume that wealth or high birth automatically makes them
worthy to lead. In this context, Xenophon’s Memorabilia carries on the
Socratic mission of improving the city’s elite leadership by bringing
Socrates’ conversations with, and criticism of, his elite interlocutors before
a contemporary audience that likewise can benefit from instruction.
Whereas Xenophon’s Socrates seeks to produce as many competent
politicians as possible through his one-on-one conversations with members
of the city’s elite, Xenophon’s Memorabilia arguably seeks to do the same
but on a larger scale as a literary work circulated among a broad elite


Xenophon has his Archedemus speak of Crito and his friends interchangeably as good men
(chrēstoi) and gentlemen (kaloi kagathoi) (..), and as narrator of this story Xenophon speaks
of Archedemus as a truly good man (philochrēstos) (..), which suggests that he too merits the
label kalos kagathos.

On the important role of the elite in the city’s political life throughout the history of the Athenian
democracy, see Ober : – and Hansen : –.

On Xenophon and Isocrates as educators of their reading audiences, see Gray : .
 Politics and Philia among Gentlemen 
reading audience in Athens. The increasing production and circulation
of prose works among the reading elite in the fourth century opened up
the possibility of influencing a wide audience through the written word.
Xenophon, exploiting this relatively new medium, was able to play a
political role in his native city of Athens even from exile. In so doing, he
showed himself to embrace the principal of political engagement that
Socrates had urged on his elite interlocutors and to be committed, like
his Socrates, to helping the city by improving its elite leadership.
The next two chapters delve further into Xenophon’s Socratic works
and consider how the Oeconomicus and Symposium complement the Mem-
orabilia in examining the role of the elite within the Athenian democracy
and providing guidance on how members of the elite can transform
themselves into true gentlemen who can lead the city successfully.
Although the Oeconomicus and Symposium are less conspicuously political
in their purview than the Memorabilia, both works participate in Xeno-
phon’s larger enterprise of advancing a vision of how elite citizens can
prepare themselves to contribute to the democratic city.

 
Cf. Higgins : . See Introduction.
  

Work, Money, and the Gentleman

in the Oeconomicus

If Xenophon’s Memorabilia challenges elite attitudes and behaviors espe-

cially in the political sphere, his Oeconomicus does so within the realm of
the household (oikos). Calling into question elite neglect of work and
money-making, Xenophon seeks to make his elite Athenian readers under-
stand the importance of pursuing profit actively through the careful
management of their estates and, in particular, the practice of farming.
This is critical for members of the elite, he suggests, because it will enable
them not only to maintain the lifestyle and status that they enjoy but also
to serve the city both financially and personally. Thus, their successful
household management (oikonomia) is essential not only for them as
individuals but for the city at large.
The Oeconomicus sets forth its challenge to negative elite attitudes
toward work and money-making in large part through its portrayal of
Ischomachus, a prosperous farmer who has arranged his life and estate in
such a way as to make himself healthy, wealthy, and ready to serve his city.
Xenophon makes it clear that Ischomachus’ thoughtful and methodical
approach is exceptional and offers him up as a model for elite Athenians
who are ready to take control of their circumstances. Whereas the Mem-
orabilia advances its criticism of elite behavior by adducing largely negative
examples through its parade of elite misfits, the Oeconomicus does so by
focusing on Ischomachus as a positive model for the city’s elite to emulate
and contrasting his approach with that of mostly unnamed individuals
whose defects keep them from being successful household managers.
In advancing this interpretation, I diverge from Steven Johnstone’s
influential reading () of the Oeconomicus as a discourse that seeks


Oikos embraces the members of a family and their house and other property including slaves; it is
convenient to translate it as “estate” when reference is to a wealthy household (see Pomeroy :
, –). The date of composition of the Oeconomicus is not known, though Xenophon may
have written it or at least started writing it during his time at his estate at Scillus from the late s to
 (ibid. –).


 Elite Neglect of Oikonomia 
“to secure and legitimate the position of elites within the polis” () by
advancing a vision of aristocratic toil (ponos) as superior to the compulsory
work of common men (). I will argue that Xenophon, far from seeking
to elevate the status of elite labor so as to differentiate it from common
work, offers his elite readers a down-to-earth critique of aristocratic neglect
of work and money-making and challenges them to embrace hard work
and pursue profit as able managers and entrepreneurs. In so doing,
Xenophon is seeking not to defend the collective claim of elite citizens
to superiority, but rather to urge individual members of the elite to adapt
their attitudes and behavior so as to ensure their personal prosperity and
serve the city at large. Those who succeed in this – and Xenophon’s
critique of current practices suggests that this is not within the reach of
all members of the elite – will show themselves to be real gentlemen, and
not gentlemen merely on the basis of wealth or high birth.
This chapter first considers how Xenophon frames the Oeconomicus as a
treatise devoted to how men should actively seek to manage their house-
holds profitably, and how this represents a critique of elite neglect of
oikonomia. Next, it turns to Xenophon’s introduction of Ischomachus as
a new kind of gentleman who appreciates that he must play an active role
in making his estate profitable, and examines how this entails embracing
work in diverse forms, especially as manager and entrepreneur. Finally, it
explores how Xenophon’s well-run oikos is intimately linked to the success
of the democratic city at large.

Elite Neglect of Oikonomia

To understand Xenophon’s advice and admonishments to elite Athenians
concerning work and the pursuit of profit in the Oeconomicus, it is
important to appreciate that the attitudes and behaviors that he endorses
were not universally embraced by elite Athenians. Most elite Athenians in
the classical period were probably born into wealthy families, and many of
these men were more interested in spending money to maintain an elite
lifestyle than in strategizing about how to make more money to preserve or
augment their wealth. Such men failed to appreciate that work and the


On the scholarly debate concerning the nature of the ancient economy and the economic behavior of
individuals, see Morris  and Morris, Saller, and Scheidel : –.

Elite profligacy and excessive consumption are prominent in public discourse (see Davidson :
–; cf. Dover : –; Ober : –; Kurke : –); while this discourse
may exaggerate elite foibles, it is likely based on commonly observed behaviors among the elite
(cf. Davies : –).
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
pursuit of profit could help ensure that they and their heirs would
continue to enjoy the leisure that was essential for elite pursuits from
hunting to politics. This was, however, short-sighted and risky since
family fortunes could be depleted over time by many things, including
not only excessive spending on an elite lifestyle but also the city’s consid-
erable financial demands on wealthy citizens in the form of liturgies and
the war tax (eisphora). As John Davies (: –) has observed, few
families seem to have remained in the “liturgical class” for more than a
couple of generations. Indeed, many of Xenophon’s elite Athenian readers
may have found themselves under especially significant financial pressures
in the economic hard times of the early fourth century that followed
Athens’ defeat in the Peloponnesian War.
It is against this backdrop that Xenophon critiques elite neglect of
prudent estate management and exhorts his audience to behave more
strategically. To be sure, not all members of the Athenian elite needed
encouragement to pursue their financial interests aggressively and method-
ically. Some elite citizens actively sought out profit through traditional
means like farming or entrepreneurial enterprises, for example, invest-
ment in shipping loans, which were facilitated by the growth of banks
during the classical period, mining, and manufacturing, and such
men knew firsthand the benefits of self-conscious and strategic behavior of


On wealthy Athenians who performed liturgies and paid the war tax as a “leisure class,” see Davies
: – and Ober : –. For caveats concerning the importance of leisure to the identity
of the elite, however, see Anastasiadis .

On the city’s significant financial expectations of the wealthy and the evasive tactics many of them
adopted, see Christ : –.

On the diverse factors contributing to the instability of liturgical fortunes, see Davies : –.
Although fourth-century Athens may have enjoyed a high level of prosperity (see Ober : ),
individual families, including those of the wealthy, were always vulnerable to shifting fortunes.

On economic hardship in this period, see Strauss : –; Cohen : –; and Christ
: –.

Pomeroy (: ) rightly takes Finley (: ) to task for asserting that in Xenophon “there is
not one sentence that expresses an economic principle or offers any economic analysis, nothing on
efficiency of production [or] ‘rational’ choice.” Figueira (: ) also rejects Finley’s dismissal of
economic thought in Xenophon, pointing to “Xenophon’s observations of purposive,
opportunizing behaviour and his advice revealing an appreciation of the operation of economic
factors”; cf. Karayiannis .

Increasing agricultural production was a logical way for wealthy Athenians to raise cash to meet
their significant financial obligations to the city (see Osborne : –, –; cf. Pomeroy
: –). Wealthy Athenians were active in leasing both public and private land to increase their
agricultural income (see Osborne : –, –).

On the growth of banks and their role in facilitating investment in maritime loans by the wealthy,
see Cohen .

On the dominant role of wealthy Athenians in the silver mines, see Shipton : .

On elite ownership of workshops, which employed large numbers of slaves, see Davies : –.
 Elite Neglect of Oikonomia 
this sort. Nonetheless, to judge from Xenophon’s didactic and often
critical stance in the Oeconomicus in promoting the active pursuit of profit,
he assumes that for many members of his elite Athenian reading audience
what he is advancing runs counter to their current attitudes and behaviors,
and we have no reason to believe that he was mistaken in this assessment.
In the opening chapters of the Oeconomicus (–), Xenophon presents a
conversation between Socrates and Critobulus that introduces the topic of
the work as oikonomia, that is, “household management,” and defines this
as “the name of a branch of knowledge . . . by which men can increase their
estates” (.) and criticizes members of the elite for neglecting this.
Several explanations for elite neglect of oikonomia emerge in the course of
this conversation.
Critobulus poses a question to Socrates that broaches the possibility that
in some instances neglect of oikonomia may be due not merely to ignorance
but to an unwillingness to work:
What about the fact that we sometimes come across people who have the
knowledge and means for increasing their estates if they work (ergazome-
noi), yet we find that they are unwilling to do so, and consequently we see
that their knowledge is without profit for them? (.)
That Critobulus is thinking especially of his elite peers becomes explicit as
he elaborates that this aversion to work can even be found among “people
regarded as men of the highest lineage (eupatridōn), of whom I observe that
some are skilled in the arts of war, some in the arts of peace” (.), that is,
among potential or actual generals and politicians. Socrates attributes
this sort of behavior to moral defects, asserting that such men have allowed
themselves to be ruled by their vices (.), including idleness (argia),
softness (malakia), and negligence (ameleia) (.), and are drawn to false


On the “economic rationalism” of some elite Athenians, see Thompson  and Christesen :
, cf. . This made it possible for some Athenians to break into the ranks of the wealth elite –
probably an increasingly common phenomenon from the mid-fifth century on (see Connor :
– and Davies : –).

In my view, it would be a mistake to assume, on the basis of evidence that some elite Athenians in
this period actively and strategically sought out profit through economic activities, that this was
ubiquitous.

On the importance of “increasing” (expressed by auxō and related forms) one’s estate, see also .,
., ., ., ., ., ., ., .; cf. ., ., ., .; Pomeroy : ; Figueira
: .

Pomeroy (: ) misses the critical nature of the Oeconomicus in declaring “the Oeconomicus
does not read like a work of criticism.”

The Eupatrids referenced here were an elite among the Athenian elite who could hold certain
priesthoods; Callias, Alcibiades, and Andocides were all Eupatrids who were known for degeneracy
(see Pomeroy : –).
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
pleasures such as “gambling and consorting with unprofitable compan-
ions” that “hinder them from all profitable work by their influence over
them” (.).
Critobulus proceeds to identify another reason why men may neglect
oikonomia, positing that in some cases the problem may not be that they
are averse to work but rather that they “have an eager desire to work and to
devise ways to produce an income” and yet they consume their estates by
their expenditures (.). Socrates once more provides a moral explana-
tion, blaming this sort of behavior on the fact that such men are ruled by
their desires:
Yes, they too are slaves, and hard indeed are their masters: some are in
bondage to gluttony, some to lechery, some to drunkenness, and some to
foolish and costly ambitions (philotimiōn). And so hard is the rule of these
passions over any men whom they get into their power, that so long as they
see these men are in their prime and capable of work, they force them to
take whatever they have earned by working and to spend it on their own
desires; but no sooner do they find that they are unable to work because of
age, than they abandon them to an old age of misery, and try to enslave
others in turn. (.)
While any man may succumb to such desires, the wealthy in particular
seem to be the target of Socrates’ pointed observations since they have the
resources to indulge in an excess of food, drink, and sex and to pursue
“foolish and costly ambitions.”
Although Critobulus collaborates with Socrates in this critique of dys-
functional behavior on the part of the elite in managing their estates, he
soon finds himself the target of criticism from Socrates for his failure to pay
attention to the details of oikonomia. Critobulus, like other members of his
class, is subject to great demands on his resources, but it turns out he has
paid little attention to the different facets of estate management, and
Socrates portrays this negligence as a threat to his well-being.
Critobulus’ neglect of oikonomia stems in large part from his failure to
appreciate that although he is rich, there are huge demands on his fortune.
His naivete concerning these demands becomes clear as he asks Socrates
whether it is important for him to increase his estate (.) since he is
already quite wealthy and possesses more than a hundred times the wealth
of Socrates (.). Socrates replies that, whereas his own modest fortune is


On the reputation of the elite for overindulgence, see above, note ; on their marked philotimia, see
Chapter . On the “slavishness” of men ruled by their vices (.–, .), see Baragwanath :
–.
 Elite Neglect of Oikonomia 
sufficient to satisfy his needs, “I do not think you would have enough to
keep up the style of life you have embraced and your reputation, even if
your fortune were three times what it is” (.). Socrates proceeds to detail
the expenses that a wealthy man in Athens regularly incurs in connection
with sacrifices, entertaining foreign guests, dinners for fellow citizens (.),
and the high costs of state-imposed liturgies and the war tax (.). And
notwithstanding Critobulus’ claim that the pursuit of his desires does not
drain his fortune as it does that of some men (.), Socrates points out that
“[y]ou are indifferent to devising ways to make money, and yet go courting
boys as though it were within your means” (.). In light of all these
expenses, Socrates expresses concern that Critobulus may be reduced to
abject poverty and find his wealthy friends, whom he helps generously,
unwilling to assist him (.). When Critobulus seeks Socrates’ guidance
to escape this fate (.), Socrates insists that he himself is not knowledge-
able concerning oikonomia (.), but offers to guide Critobulus to men
who are skilled in this (.) so that he may become “a formidable money-
maker (chrēmatistēn)” (.). Socrates’ suggestion that Critobulus needs
to become an expert “money-maker” is provocative and designed to rouse
him from his complacency since traditional aristocrats like Critobulus
would not normally consider this a desirable goal given their disdain for
those who focus exclusively on money-making.
Before Socrates follows through on his offer to lead Critobulus to those
who have expertise in oikonomia, however, he rebukes Critobulus at length
for his neglect of oikonomia up to this point. This excursus bears close
scrutiny as it entails a devastating critique of Critobulus – and other
members of the elite who may resemble him – for their foolish passivity
in matters that demand intelligent engagement. As Socrates outlines the
different aspects of oikonomia that he intends to show Critobulus (.–),


For paidikois de pragmasi as referring to the pursuit of boys, see Pomeroy : .

In the Memorabilia, Socrates urges Critobulus to seek out as friends true gentlemen who will fully
reciprocate his support of them: see .., ..–; cf. Dorion and Bandini a: .

In light of Socrates’ emphasis on the importance of money-making here and elsewhere in the
Oeconomicus, it is odd to claim, as Danzig (a: ) does, that Socrates is seeking to convince
Critobulus “that he needs to seek wisdom rather than property.” While there is a strong ethical
dimension to Socrates’ presentation of oikonomia in its various facets, his endorsement of the
pursuit of profit is genuine. As Dorion (: ; cf. –) observes, Xenophon’s Socrates, unlike
Plato’s Socrates, “attaches much importance to economics and to the conditions of material
prosperity.”

For the negative associations of chrēmatistēs for traditional aristocrats, see Pl. Resp. b–c, a–b;
Gorg. a–c. Cf. X. Mem. ., where Nicomachides expresses disdain for the wealthy Antisthenes
who “understands nothing but gathering money.” Xenophon endorses the pursuit of farming in
particular as a legitimate and noble “money-making enterprise” (chrēmatisis) (Oec. ., .).
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
including how to manage slaves, farm, keep horses, and treat a wife, he
rebukes him for failing to pay attention to such matters in the past. He
points out that whereas Critobulus always presses Socrates to accompany
him to the theater to join him as spectator whenever a comedy is being
presented, he has never yet invited Socrates to join him as spectator of the
work (ergon) of managing an estate (.). Socrates indicates that he will
rectify this by bringing before Critobulus’ eyes the spectacle of how to
manage an estate, but he insists that Critobulus will have to be a more
engaged and active observer than when he attends a dramatic performance.
His past failure to observe closely details of estate management is evident
from the fact that although he has watched how men keep horses, he has
learned nothing from this:
: And suppose I show you that some have reached the point where
they lack the basic necessities because they keep horses, while others have
become wealthy from keeping horses and, moreover, delight in their profit?
: Well, I see them too and know instances of both, yet I am not
one of those who make a profit for all that.
: Yes, because you watch them just as you watch the actors in
tragedy or comedy, not, I suppose, to become a playwright, but for the
pleasure of seeing or hearing something. And perhaps there is no harm in
that, because you do not want to write plays; but since you are forced to
deal with horses, do you not think you are stupid if you do not look into
how not to be an amateur (idiotēs) in this business, the more so as these very
horses are both good to use and profitable to sell? (.–)
Socrates’ scathing critique of amateurism in the sphere of oikonomia recalls
his satirical treatment in the Memorabilia of hopeful politicians who
neglect to acquire the skills and expertise needed to lead the city. In
both instances, laziness, passivity, and self-satisfaction prevent members of
the elite from learning how to carry out important tasks that they should
seek to perform well.
Socrates carries through on his promise to lead Critobulus to those who
are adept at oikonomia when he recounts in detail a conversation he
purportedly once had with Ischomachus on how best to manage an


Cf. Socrates’ comment to Ischomachus that he would much rather hear about how he instructed his
wife concerning oikonomia “than an account of the noblest athletic competition or horse race” (.).

Socrates’ imagery emphasizes the visual nature of his illumination of Critobulus: Socrates will show
him how to manage an estate (., ., ., cf. .) and Critobulus will watch what is brought
before him (., .; cf. .). On Xenophon’s play with spectacle and spectatorship in his
Symposium and elsewhere, see Baragwanath : –.

See Chapter .
 Ischomachus, the Perfect Gentleman 
estate (–). In representing this conversation, Socrates, in keeping
with the analogy that he draws between the theater and the real-life show
of how to manage an estate, depicts a dramatic performance of sorts, with
Ischomachus as the main protagonist. If Socrates presents this as a spec-
tacle worthy of Critobulus’ engaged attention, Xenophon presumably
means for his reading audience likewise to view it attentively and to learn
from it. Socrates’ critique of unnamed members of the elite for their
neglect of oikonomia and of Critobulus for his own shortcomings in this
sphere suggests that knowledge of this is in short supply and that many can
benefit from observing closely the scene that is about to be brought on
stage.

Ischomachus, the Perfect Gentleman

Xenophon presents Ischomachus as a model elite Athenian: he not only
understands that wealth is essential for a man who seeks to provide amply
for his family and friends and to enjoy power and influence within the city
but also acts self-consciously and systematically to preserve and increase his
fortune by pursuing profit through hard work and intelligent management
of his estate – indeed, he is one of the city’s wealthiest citizens (.).
Ischomachus’ appreciation of the connection between his wealth and his
status in the city comes across clearly in Socrates’ report of an exchange he
had with him:
: Ischomachus, do you really want to be rich and to have lots of
possessions when you will also have lots of problems taking care
of them?
: The answer to your questions is yes, I do indeed. For
I think it is a pleasure to honor the gods in grand fashion, Socrates, and to
help friends if they need anything, and see to it that the city lacks no
adornment that my means can supply.
: The principles that you have mentioned are fine ones,
Ischomachus, at least for a very influential man, no doubt about it.


Pomeroy (: ) argues cogently against earlier scholars that the Oeconomicus is a unified work,
with the first part “devoted to the theory and the second part to the practice of oikonomia.”

On the reader of Xenophon as “spectator,” see Baragwanath : , .

Although Xenophon’s Ischomachus may well be based on the wealthy Athenian of this name who is
mentioned in a number of ancient sources (see Davies : –), Xenophon crafts him, as he
does Socrates, to serve his own purposes. For a prudent survey of the ancient testimonia concerning
the historic Ischomachus including the slanders of Andocides (.–) concerning his wife and
daughter, see Pomeroy : – and Hobden : –. If the historic Ischomachus
eventually lost most of his wealth during the Decelean war (Davies : –), this does not stop
Xenophon from idealizing his approach to oikonomia.
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
For there are many men who cannot live without seeking help from others,
and many who are content if they can provide enough for their own needs.
Surely those who are able not only to maintain their own estate, but also to
accumulate a surplus so that they can adorn the city and relieve their friends
may well be thought affluent and powerful men.
(.–)
Although Ischomachus may be exceptionally clearheaded for a man of his
class about how integral his wealth is to his status and ability to achieve his
ambitious goals, where he truly diverges from his elite peers, as we shall see,
is in his systematic pursuit of profit through hard work and intelligent
management of his estate.
That Ischomachus is an atypical member of his class is evident not only
from Xenophon’s pointed juxtaposition of him with the elite Athenians
who fall short in oikonomia whom he presents in the opening chapters of
the Oeconomicus but also in his depiction of him as a new kind of
gentleman (kalos kagathos). As we have seen in the Memorabilia, Xeno-
phon’s Socrates challenges conventional elite understandings of what it
means to be a kalos kagathos, rejecting the assumption that high birth or
wealth automatically produces a gentleman and insisting that one must
strive to achieve this status by seeking out an education in the values,
knowledge, and skills that will qualify one to exercise political leadership
within the city. Xenophon’s portrayal of Ischomachus in the Oeconomicus
complements this reconceptualization of what makes a man a gentleman,
by showing how an exemplary member of the elite cultivates attitudes and
behaviors that make him a successful manager of his household and
potentially of the city itself.
Xenophon introduces Ischomachus from the start as a gentleman in a
substantial sense:
: Well then, Critobulus, what if I give you a complete account of
how I once met a man who in my opinion really was one of those
who is justly called a kalos kagathos?
: I would greatly like to hear it, Socrates, for I long to deserve
that name myself.
(.)
Socrates’ description of Ischomachus as someone who truly merits the
name of gentleman (cf. .) suggests that this is not true of all putative
gentlemen, and Critobulus picks up on this when he declares that he
himself would like to be worthy of the name “gentleman.”
In case Xenophon’s reader has missed the importance of this distinction,
his Socrates goes on to analyze the components of kalos kagathos, which
 Ischomachus, the Perfect Gentleman 
literally means “beautiful and good,” as he relates how eager he had been to
find someone worthy of this title:
My soul very much desired to meet one of those who are called by that
dignified title kalos kagathos, which implies “beautiful” as well as “good,” in
order to consider what they did (ergazomenoi) to deserve it. And, first,
because the epithet “beautiful” is added to “good,” I went up to every
beautiful-looking man I noticed, and tried to discover whether I could
anywhere see goodness in combination with beauty. But it was not that way
at all: I thought I discovered that some who were beautiful to look at were
thoroughly depraved in their souls. So I decided to let good looks go and to
seek out someone known as a kalos kagathos. And since I heard the name
applied to Ischomachus by all men, women, citizens, and foreigners,
I decided to try to meet him. (.–)
Socrates’ quest for someone meriting the name kalos kagathos leads him to
reject external beauty as an attribute of a real gentleman (cf. Mem. ..)
and to focus instead on a man’s moral qualities and behavior. This leads
him to seek out Ischomachus, to whom all people applied the name
“gentleman,” as someone who might qualify as gentleman by this
standard.
On Socrates’ first meeting with Ischomachus, the question of what
makes a man a true gentleman looms large. When Socrates tells Ischoma-
chus that he very much wants to learn how he came to be called a
gentleman (.), Ischomachus acknowledges the subjectivity of this title:
Smiling at my question, “How did you come to be called a gentleman?,”
and apparently pleased, Ischomachus answered, “Well, I don’t know
whether people call me that when they talk to you about me. Certainly,
when they challenge me to an exchange of property (eis antidosin) in order
to escape an obligation to maintain a warship or train a chorus, nobody goes
looking for the gentleman but they summon me simply by the name
Ischomachus together with that of my father. (.–)
If Ischomachus’ legal opponents are disinclined to label him a gentleman
(cf. .), Socrates soon comes to believe that he fully merits this title.
He fully approves of how Ischomachus, as gentleman, delegates to his wife
the running of operations within the home and instructs her on how best
to carry out her duties as manager of it (.–). When Socrates then asks


Pomeroy (: ) suggests that Ischomachus, in his use of kalos kagathos here, “eschews the
moral or abstract connotations of the expression and answers in terms of his wealth alone. Thus he
is characterized at the outset as a realist with a particular interest in material goods.” Ischomachus,
in fact, is highlighting that the term is subjective and its application depends on the perspective of
the observer (cf. .–; cf. .).
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
Ischomachus to relate to him his own daily activities (erga) as a gentleman
and Ischomachus invites Socrates to correct him if he finds any defects in
his conduct (.–), Socrates replies, “As far as that goes, who am I to
rightly remodel a perfect kalos kagathos?” (.). Although Xenophon’s
Socrates often bestows praise ironically on his interlocutors – and Straus-
sians have claimed that this is the case here – his high evaluation of
Ischomachus seems genuine. Indeed, throughout his entire conversation
with Ischomachus, Socrates expresses approval of, and admiration for, the
way Ischomachus lives his life as a gentleman.
If Ischomachus qualifies as a gentleman on the basis of his laudable
behavior rather than lineage or wealth, it follows logically that a man does
not have to be a member of the traditional aristocracy to lay claim to this
title. Indeed, Socrates suggests that, even though he is himself a poor man
(penēs) (.), he may become a good (agathos) one by imitating Ischo-
machus’ example (.). Even more disconcerting for a traditionally
minded aristocrat would be Ischomachus’ statement that he honors the
honest slaves who work for him “as if they were kaloi kagathoi” (.), a
further pointed reminder that behavior and not social status is what merits
the approbatory title of gentleman.
What it is that makes Ischomachus a perfect gentleman in the Socratic
sense emerges in the course of Socrates’ report of his extended conversation
with him. Ischomachus has, unlike many of his elite peers, mastered the art
of oikonomia in the sphere of agriculture, which entails pursuing farming
thoughtfully and energetically as an occupation (ergasia), embracing work
(ergon) in its diverse forms, and inspiring others to do the same. As we shall
see, his status as a true gentleman is intimately linked with his “work ethic”


Pace Danzig (a:  n. ): “At first he refers to Ischomachus as one who truly deserves to be
called a kalos kagathos (.). But this is only his initial judgment, and it must be modified in light
of the conversation as a whole.” As Dorion (: –) observes, while some scholars, following
the lead of Strauss (see, e.g., : ), have argued that Socrates’ praise of Ischomachus is ironic
and that Socrates’ way of life and Ischomachus’ are irreconcilable (Pangle ; Stevens ; Too
; Danzig a; Kronenberg : –, –; Nee ), there is “no doctrinal
disharmony between Ischomachus and Socrates.” On the compatibility of their views, see Natali
; Dorion ; Hobden : –.

This suggests that Socrates may himself become a kalos kagathos since “goodness” is the defining
characteristic of the gentleman as he posits at .–. In the Memorabilia (..), Xenophon
explicitly labels Socrates a kalos kagathos in the true sense.

On this remarkable formulation, see Pomeroy : , , and Baragwanath : . On
Xenophon’s integration of slaves into the oikos as partners with its free members, see Pomeroy :
– and Baragwanath : –; as the latter observes, the contrast with Athenian practice is
striking (–).
 Farming as an Occupation for a Gentleman 
and his capacity to elicit zealous labor from those whom he supervises and
leads in his role as estate manager.

Farming as an Occupation for a Gentleman

Ischomachus proves himself to be a true gentleman in large part through
his virtuosity in pursuing farming as an occupation. Just before intro-
ducing Ischomachus, Socrates sums up the virtues and benefits of farming:
We came to the conclusion that for a kalos kagathos the best occupation
(ergasia) and the best branch of knowledge is farming, from which people
obtain what is necessary to them. For this occupation seemed to be the
easiest to learn and the most pleasant to practice, to make men’s bodies
most beautiful and strong, and to afford their minds the most spare time for
attending to their friends and cities. (.–)
When Critobulus asks Socrates to elaborate on what enables a man to
succeed in running a profitable farm, Socrates replies that he will recount
his conversation with a man whom he regards as a true gentleman (.),
who turns out to be Ischomachus (.).
The idea that a real gentleman should, like Ischomachus, have an
occupation, an ergasia, constitutes a challenge to aristocrats who occupied
themselves more with leisure activities than work. As Xenophon’s Soc-
rates explains, however, if a gentleman wants to ensure that he has leisure,
he must have an occupation that will make this possible, and farming is an
ideal one since it is pleasant to pursue, exercises the body, and, if pursued
systematically, creates wealth and the leisure that attends this.
It is important to appreciate that when Socrates endorses farming as a
suitable occupation for a gentleman, he does not suggest that this is a
pursuit whose benefits are limited to, or even primarily available to, the
aristocracy. On the contrary, in his earlier excursus on the attractions of
farming Socrates speaks of it as the occupation of choice for all free men.
He asserts that free men should shun the banausic crafts (technai) that are
practiced indoors since these spoil the body, sap the soul, “and leave a man
no spare time to attend to his friends and city” (.–), and pursue instead


Although the Oeconomicus sets out to inquire into oikonomia in the broadest sense – how a man
should best manage all his possessions so as to augment his wealth (., .), it evolves into a case
study of oikonomia in the sphere of agriculture as exemplified by Ischomachus.

Consistent with this is how Socrates, as he inquires into what makes someone a gentleman, assumes
that men must earn this name by “working at/ accomplishing” (ergazomenoi) something (.;
cf. .).

Socrates also speaks of farming as an art (technē) at .; cf. .–, ..
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
farming, which makes men strong and courageous, and produces good
citizens who are willing and able to support the state in defending the land
they cultivate (.–, ., .–). Wealthy men, therefore, along with
less well-off men should embrace it:
“I’m telling you this,” Socrates said, “because not even the wealthiest can do
without farming. For the pursuit of it seems to be simultaneously a pleasant
experience, a means of increasing one’s estate, and exercise for the body so
that it may be capable of all those things that are suitable for a free man.”
(.; cf. .)
Socrates’ assertion that “not even the wealthiest can do without farming”
suggests that rich men may mistakenly assume they can do without it and
thereby forsake its manifold benefits.
There is something egalitarian about Socrates’ presentation of farming
as an ideal occupation for all free men, which members of the wealth elite
would be mistaken to shun. Indeed, Socrates does not distinguish between
the status of average men who farm and their wealthier fellow citizens, but
rather speaks of farming as an inherently noble vocation (.) and con-
vinces Critobulus to concur with this (.). Ischomachus likewise speaks
of farming as “the noblest (gennaiotatē) art” (.; cf. .) and posits,
moreover, that farming makes its followers “most noble (gennaiotatous) in
disposition” (.). In applying the language of nobility to farming and
its diverse practitioners, Socrates and his interlocutors suggest that nobility
lies not in high birth but in the active practice of the laudable vocation of
farming, which improves the physical and moral vigor of all those who are
involved in it.
Consistent with this leveling of the free practitioners of farming with
one another is Xenophon’s insistence that farming is “easy to learn” and
therefore is accessible to all men. Socrates emphasizes this in his initial
discussion with Critobulus concerning farming (.; cf. .), and in the
conversation he relates between himself and Ischomachus he reports that
Ischomachus emphasized how easy it is to learn how to farm (., .;
cf. .) and that he found this to be entirely convincing (.). Xeno-
phon, in fact, goes to great lengths to demonstrate through Socrates’
conversation with Ischomachus that farming is easy to master by having


On Socrates’ rejection of banausic work, see Pomeroy : –.

Socrates expresses a less admiring view of average men who are farmers in Mem. ..–; on the
inconsistency, see Dorion and Bandini a: .

As Pomeroy (: ) observes, Xenophon provides a much more optimistic vision of farming
and rural life than Hesiod’s Works and Days.
 Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship 
Ischomachus demonstrate repeatedly that one can learn it simply by
observing a farmer in action and that there is nothing secret about it
(.–; cf. .).
To be sure, Xenophon’s depiction of farming and the lifestyle that it
allows in the Oeconomicus is directed at an elite audience, and in keeping
with this he brings forth as his paradigm the wealthy Ischomachus and his
extensive estate, replete with horses and hunting dogs (.–). But Xen-
ophon focuses not on the status of the practitioner of farming, but rather
on the practice itself and the ennobling activities this entails, which are
open to all free men. Thus, although Xenophon’s elite readers may practice
this noble ergasia on a larger scale than average citizens do, he emphasizes
that it is a readily accessible occupation for all men and bears the same
fundamental benefits to all its practitioners. Xenophon is similarly un-
elitist, as we shall see, in his representation of the work and the work ethic
required in successful farming.

Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship

If Ischomachus’ recognition that farming is an ideal occupation for a
gentleman distinguishes him from many of his elite peers, so too does
his embrace of a strong work ethic in pursuing it. Xenophon’s presentation
of the work and work ethic involved in successful farming must be read
against the backdrop of Socrates’ earlier critique of the moral defects that
prevent some elite Athenians from seeking out ways to augment their
estates, namely, idleness, negligence, and softness (.–). Xeno-
phon’s idealized vision of the noble occupation of farming rejects these
moral shortcomings and insists on an earnest, attentive, and manly com-
mitment to work in its diverse forms. Thus, his Ischomachus lauds the
farmer’s life in moral terms as he asserts that “the land is the surest tester of
bad and lazy men” (.), and himself emerges as the exemplar of
the work ethic that Xenophon would have his elite readers emulate.


Ischomachus criticizes men of limited experience who envision farming as more complex than it
really is (.) – a possible “barb at the writers of technical manuals” on agriculture (Pomeroy :
). Socrates’ earlier criticism of Critobulus for failing to observe closely the details of estate
management, including farming (.–), suggests that as simple as it is to learn how to farm, passive
members of the elite like Critobulus are inattentive and fail to understand how best to pursue it.

Pace Johnstone (: ), Xenophon does not represent an ideal lifestyle that may appear to be
open to all but in fact is accessible only to an educated elite.

On the condemnation of idleness in Greek literature, see Pomeroy : .

Cf. Davies : : “It is hard not to detect a strong hint of a Protestant ethic.”
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
This work ethic, as we shall see, can be applied in physical labor, the
management of workers, and even in entrepreneurial efforts.

The Virtues of Hard Work

Central to Xenophon’s portrayal of farming as an ideal occupation is that it
entails physical toil. Thus, in extolling the benefits of farming, his Socrates
asserts:
And although farming supplies good things in abundance, it does not allow
them to be won with softness (meta malakias), but it accustoms men to
endure winter’s cold and summer’s heat. It gives increased strength through
exercise (gumnazousa) to those who labor with their own hands, and makes
manly those who farm by supervising others by rousing them early and
forcing them to move about briskly – for on a farm, no less than in the city,
the most important operations always have their fixed times. (.)
Although Socrates regards the physical toil of farming as beneficial to all its
practitioners, his presentation of it here bears a pointed message for
members of the elite. When Socrates speaks of how farming strengthens
men who work with their hands by putting them through exercises
(gumnazousa), he suggests that this humble but demanding activity can
produce strong bodies just as well as athletic exercises in the gymnasium, a
favorite haunt of elite Athenians. And when he observes that it also
makes manly those who supervise the work of others because of the
rigorous activity this entails, he points to another way for members of
the elite, whom he envisions acting especially in a managerial role on their
estates, as we shall see, to partake of the benefits of physical toil.
Socrates strikingly adduces Cyrus, the rebel brother of the Persian king,
as a paradigm of the virtues of hands-on labor for those of high station.
Having asserted that the king of the Persians regards farming and the art of
war as the two noblest and most essential pursuits (.), Socrates relates
how the Spartan Lysander visited Cyrus in his park (paradeisos) at Sardis
and was amazed at what he saw:
“Cyrus, I really do admire all this beauty, but I am far more impressed with
the man who measured out and arranged everything in order.” Cyrus was
delighted to hear this and replied, “Well, Lysander, I myself measured and


Cf. how Ischomachus (.) encourages his wife to get good exercise (gumnasion) through her
conduct of her chores within the home and thus to “exercise herself” (gumnazomenēn) for health
and beauty. On the traditional role of the gymnasium and athleticism in an elite lifestyle, see
Pritchard : –.
 Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship 
arranged everything, and I even did some of the planting myself.” “What
did you say, Cyrus?” exclaimed Lysander, looking at him, and seeing the
beauty of his robes and smelling his perfume, and seeing the splendor of the
necklaces and bangles and other ornaments that he was wearing; “Did you
really plant part of this with your own hands?” “Does that surprise you,
Lysander?” asked Cyrus. “I swear to you by Mithras that I never yet have
dined when in sound health, without first working up a sweat by practicing
some task (ergōn) of war or agriculture, or exerting myself in some sort of
competition (philotimoumenos).” (.–)
Notwithstanding the trappings of wealth that adorn his body, Cyrus works
arduously with his own hands in cultivating his gardens so as to produce a
sweat. His equation of this work with that involved in war and the energetic
pursuit of honor (philotimia) in other spheres, moreover, pointedly elevates
this as a legitimate locus of effort that is on a par with other traditional
aristocratic pursuits. One may infer from this that if a member of the Persian
royal family embraces sweat-inducing agricultural labor – albeit in his private
gardens – a fortiori an elite Athenian should do the same.
Xenophon’s Ischomachus for his part welcomes the physical toil
entailed in supervising the workers on his farm and, cognizant of the
benefits of physical exertion, supplements this with exercises that ensure
he will work up a sweat. In giving an account of his daily regimen that
produces health and physical strength (., .–, .), Ischoma-
chus describes how he walks rather than rides to his farm, charging a slave
with leading his horse there (.); engages actively in supervising his
workers (.; cf. .); mounts his horse and goes through a series of
exercises similar to those needed in warfare; and then hands his horse off
to his slave to lead home, while he alternates between walking and running
on his return trip (.). After all this, he has apparently worked up a
sweat and, therefore on arriving home, cleans himself with a strigil – just as
an elite Athenian might after exercising in the gymnasium (.). This
regimen, he asserts, has multiple benefits, as it enables him to work off
(ekponounti) what he eats, ensures his health and strength, trains him for
war, “and by due diligence and resistance to going soft, he is more likely to
increase his estate” (.–; cf. ., .–).
Both Cyrus and Ischomachus embrace physical work as an intrinsically
valuable activity and benefit from this just as their less wealthy counter-
parts do. If it seems contrived to equate the physical labor of Cyrus in his


In Hipparchicus .–, Xenophon advises that a hipparch should encourage the cavalrymen
under him to hone their riding skills by practicing on their own.
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
royal gardens or of Ischomachus as energetic estate manager with that of
common men, this equation attests to the efforts that Xenophon is making
to show how elite Athenians can and should partake of the same ennobling
physical activity as average, hard-working farmers.
It is important to recognize that Xenophon is providing a framework for
understanding the work of elite actors that is based on, and justified in
terms of, physical labor and the hard work it entails rather than envisioning
their work as something distinct from the work of average men and
superior to it. Steven Johnstone (: ) has argued in favor of the
latter interpretation:
Xenophon sought to define the aristocrat by his toils. Far from being
opposed to toil, leisure (as Loraux observed) made toil possible. Toil was
the stylized, even ostentatious, version of aristocratic leisure, aesthetically
and morally superior to the compulsory work of the ordinary person. The
labor of the aristocrat was kalos, noble, beautiful, and it won for him virtue.
These virtuous practices were concerned not just with the formation of the
self (as Foucault has suggested), but essentially with the self as a member of
a superior class.
Although this is an intriguing hypothesis, it is not borne out by Xeno-
phon’s treatment of work in the Oeconomicus.
First, Xenophon does not distinguish between the toil (ponos) of the
aristocrat and the work (ergon) of common men, as Johnstone (:
–) maintains. In fact, in the Oeconomicus, Xenophon sometimes
uses ponos and ergon and their cognates interchangeably, and where they
bear different nuances the distinction can be explained as one of intensity,
with ergon denoting “work” and ponos “hard work.” Xenophon, more-
over, applies both terms across class and status boundaries, speaking of the
ponos of rowers in the fleet and slaves, and the ergon of large landowners.


Danzig (a: ) misses the importance of this work ethic for Xenophon in speaking of “the
dirty, grubby work he [Ischomachus] is involved with each and every day.”

Johnstone’s references are to the original publication by Loraux (: ; see Loraux  in my
bibliography) and M. Foucault, The History of Sexuality, vol. : The Use of Pleasure, trans. R. Hurley
(New York, ).

The title of his article posits a stark antithesis, “Virtuous Toil, Vicious Work.”

For their use as virtual synonyms, see, e.g., .–, where Ischomachus lauds his father’s
philoponia and philergia; cf. Dem. ..

For ponos in the sense of “hard work,” see ., ., ., ., ., ., ., , ; cf. ..
This usage is very much in keeping with the definition of ponos as “work, esp. hard work, toil” in
H. G. Liddell and R. Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon, th ed., revised by H. S. Jones and
R. McKenzie (Oxford, ).

Ponos is used of lower-class rowers at ., and of slaves at . and . (cf. .), pace Loraux
(: ), who claims that “the register of ponos contains scant mention of the slave”; cf. .,
 Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship 
On one occasion in the Oeconomicus, Xenophon applies ponos to hunting
(.), a favorite elite leisure activity (cf. Cyn. .), but he does not
suggest that this is an alternative to, or better than, the work and toil
of farming, which build character, strength, and wealth for all free men
(cf. .).
Second, Johnstone’s notion that aristocratic leisure makes toil possible is
at odds with Xenophon’s pragmatic view of farming as an occupation for
all free men that entails hard work but, if practiced well, creates leisure.
His Socrates rejects the banausic crafts that are pursued indoors on
numerous grounds, including that they “leave a man no spare time to
attend to his friends and city” (.). By contrast, among the many appeals
of farming is that it is an occupation that seems “to afford men’s minds the
most spare time for attending to their friends and cities” (.). It is thus the
best occupation (ergasia) not only for a gentleman, but for any free man
(., ., .–).
In portraying work as virtuous and beneficial for all free men regardless
of status, Xenophon draws on a long tradition that envisions work,
especially in farming, in positive terms. Thus, for example, Hesiod lauds
both the moral quality of hard work (“the immortal gods have set sweat in
front of excellence [aretēs],” Erg. –; “Work is not a disgrace, but not
working is a disgrace, ) and its practical benefits (“It is from working
that men have many sheep and are wealthy,” ). That Xenophon is
acutely conscious of, and embraces, this Hesiodic vision of work is evident
in the Memorabilia, where he speaks with approval of Socrates’ invocation

where Socrates speaks of those who do not understand farming as living in poverty though they toil
much (polla ponountas). Johnstone (: – n. ) strains to reconcile such uses with his thesis.
Ergon is applied not just sometimes to the work of members of the elite (ibid., citing ., .,
.) but frequently (see also .–, .–, ., ., ., ., .–, ., ., ., .,
., ., ..) On Xenophon’s use of exergazomai in connection with the entrepreneurial
efforts of the wealthy, see below, note .

Although Xenophon refers to the “toil” of the hunt in his Cynegeticus and portrays this as producing
virtue in its elite practitioners (., .; cf. Johnstone : –), his Oeconomicus makes it
clear that the toil of farming can produce virtue in all free men.

Cf. Arist. EN b–: “we work (ascholoumetha) in order to have leisure (scholazōmen).”
Anastasiadis () disputes Johnstone’s assumption that for the Athenian elite leisure “was the
paramount ideal which characterized a class-determined distinctive lifestyle” ( n. ; cf.  n. ,
–). He argues persuasively that the idealization of scholē (“spare time” or “leisure”) in classical
Greece does not entail disdain for work (), and challenges it as a rigid class marker: “the current
and general sense of the term scholē among the classical Greeks does not allow us to conceive of two
separate, impenetrable social worlds, composed of upper and lower social strata respectively, of
which only the former enjoys leisure and only the latter is engaged in work” ().

On positive portrayals of work, and especially farming, in Greek literature, see Balme : –,
; cf. Anastasiadis : –, .
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
of Hesiod’s Works and Days , and explains that Socrates endorsed only
good work, not bad work as his accusers falsely claimed (..–).
Xenophon’s positive vision of work is likely also influenced by demo-
cratic Athenian attitudes toward work. Not surprisingly in a democratic
society in which most men work to support themselves, Athenians take a
positive view of “honest work,” especially as carried out by farmers. This
does not mean that Athenians viewed all forms of work as equally respect-
able, and even popular audiences were ready to look down on certain
menial occupations and commercial enterprises. In such circumstances,
however, there is no suggestion that Athenians are hostile to work per se or
to a work ethic. In fact, a wealthy Athenian addressing a popular jury
might speak proudly of how he profited from the silver mines “by toiling
(ponōn) and working (ergazomenos) with my own body” (Dem. .) and
seek favor from it on the basis of his love of work (philergia) and goodwill
toward the dēmos (.).
The idea that work is inherently virtuous for men of all classes is also
vividly conveyed in a vignette in the Memorabilia, in which Socrates
advises his friend Aristarchus on how to support his household in the
difficult circumstances in which they find themselves as residents of the
city during the civil strife of /. Aristarchus, who in better times
enjoyed financial security, explains to Socrates that he now finds himself
in dire straits:
Ah yes, Socrates, I am in great difficulty. Since the civil war broke out many
people have fled to the Piraeus, and a crowd of my womenfolk, being left
behind, have come to me – sisters, nieces and cousins – so that there are
fourteen free persons in the house. We get nothing from our land because
our opponents have seized it, and nothing from our house properties now
that there are so few residents in the city. Portable property finds no buyers,
and it is quite impossible to borrow money anywhere: I really think you
would sooner find money by looking for it in the street than get it by
borrowing. It is hard, Socrates, to stand by and watch one’s family die but
impossible to support so many in times like these. (..)
Socrates advises Aristarchus to put his female relatives to work manufactur-
ing clothing within their home (..–), which they already know how to

On this passage, see Gray a: .

For the positive portrayal of honest work in Athenian sources, see Aeschin. .; Ant. ..; cf.
Thuc. ..; Dover : ; Balme : ; Ober : , , –; Anastasiadis
: –, . On the respectability of working the land, see Dover : . In light of the
positive view of work in earlier Greek sources, it is odd that Loraux (: ) speaks of “the
Athenian revaluing of work” and the “profound originality” of this.

For a nuanced analysis of the sources and their complexities, see Ober : –.
 Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship 
do (..), and thus to support the household (..). When Aristarchus
protests that this type of work is normally carried out by slaves (..),
Socrates pointedly asks him if free persons should “do nothing but eat and
sleep” and whether “idleness and negligence” promote health and strength
and help people acquire and keep things of practical use while “working
and attentiveness are useless things” (..). In the case of Aristarchus’
womenfolk, Socrates insists that there is nothing shameful in their engag-
ing in work that they know how to do and that is honorable and suitable
for women (..), and Aristarchus seizes on, and successfully executes,
what Socrates proposes (..–). Socrates’ general endorsement here
of the moral and practical value of industry and hard work for free
persons – and this notably in a sphere outside of farming – provides an
important lesson to Xenophon’s elite reader. As Vivienne Gray (a:
) observes of this depiction of the honorable nature of work, “The poor
already work for their living, so the exhortation is appropriately addressed
to the leisured rich.”

Management as Work
Xenophon’s treatment of the Aristarchus episode suggests that the circum-
stances of free men may determine the form of work in which they engage
and that it is honorable even for the free women of an elite household to
labor for its benefit. Interestingly, this vignette also provides justification
for the work carried out by those who oversee the work of others. After
Aristarchus has successfully put his household’s women to work
manufacturing clothing, he happily reports this to Socrates but notes that
they complain that he alone eats without working (..). Socrates offers
him a defense of his role:
“Then why not tell them the story of the dog?” asked Socrates. “They say
that when animals could talk, a sheep said to her master: ‘It is strange that
you give us sheep nothing but what we get from the land, though we supply


Sex workers in brothels may also have been active in making clothes when not otherwise occupied:
see Davidson : –.

In good entrepreneurial manner, Aristarchus intelligently seeks out loans so he can invest in this
new enterprise (..; cf. ..). Figueira (: ) observes: “[T]hat Socrates’ advice is
implemented by Aristarchus successfully speaks volumes about opportunistic entrepreneurship in
an elite individual under stress.”

As Socrates prods Aristarchus to embark on this course of action, he invokes as models numerous
entrepreneurs who have used their ingenuity to make money through the production of barley,
bread, or clothing (..–). Xenophon is clearly not opposed to members of the elite being
involved in commerce and industry, pace Luccioni : .
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
you with wool and lambs and cheese, and yet you share your own food with
your dog, who supplies you with none of these things.’ The dog heard this
and said: ‘Of course he does. For I am the one who keeps you safe so that
you are not stolen by people or carried off by wolves. Why, but for my
protection you couldn’t even graze for fear of being killed.’ And so, they say,
the sheep admitted the dog’s claim to preference (protimasthai). So tell these
women that you are their guard (phulax) in place of a dog and their overseer
(epimelētēs), and it is due to you that they live and work in safety and
comfort, with none to harm them.” (..–)
This fable suggests that an individual who facilitates the work of others
whether by protecting or overseeing them performs a valuable task and
should be held in honor rather than rebuked.
Although Aristarchus works as supervisor of manufacturing within his
own home due to the constraints of his circumstances, more commonly
members of the elite would find themselves working as the supervisors of
others on their own estates, and it is this role that Xenophon explores at
great length in the Oeconomicus, especially through his portrayal of
Ischomachus as an adept estate manager. The management of a household,
Xenophon suggests, entails real work and requires an engaged and active
supervisor.
It is clear from the opening of the Oeconomicus that management of a
household is an important and legitimate form of work. The household
manager (oikonomos) is someone with a valuable set of skills that he can
apply on his own behalf (.) or as a hired agent who can earn money by
managing another man’s estate (.–); thus, like a carpenter, he can
either work for himself or for others (.). The Memorabilia considers in
more detail the possibility of working as an agent in this manner, as
Socrates advises Eutherus, who has lost his wealth due to the Peloponne-
sian War, to work as a manager of an estate for another man (..–).
When Eutherus expresses concern that this might make him a slave,
Socrates reassures him that “those who control their cities and take charge
of public affairs are thought more respectable, not more slavish on that

The fable depicts the dog more as a protector (phulax) than an overseer (epimelētēs), but its
introduction of the latter word facilitates the application of the lesson to Aristarchus’ position as
supervisor of others. On Xenophon’s presentation of this fable, see Dorion and Bandini a: .

As Pomeroy (: ) observes, “Ischomachus and his upper-class contemporaries employ
experienced labourers and foremen.. . . They must know how to supervise these specialists.”
Figueira (: ) proposes that Xenophon can be viewed as “the earliest extant management
consultant.”

While Eutherus is currently supporting himself through physical labor, Socrates points out that this
will be difficult for him to do when he gets old, and therefore encourages him to manage an estate
for a wealthier man; cf. Poroi ..
 Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship 
account” (..). Acting in a managerial capacity, even for another man, is
honorable and important work.
The work of household management is, as Xenophon depicts it
through his portrayal of Ischomachus, demanding and complex. It entails
first of all a division of labor between husband and wife, with the former
in charge of the outdoor work and the latter in charge of the indoor
work, as suits their different natures as male and female (.). Because
Ischomachus is older than his wife and more knowledgeable concerning
household management, he instructs his wife on her tasks as “queen bee”
within the hive (.–). Notwithstanding the unmistakable domi-
nance of the male in this relationship, Ischomachus emphasizes to his
wife that they are partners in the household enterprise and mutually
dependent (.–). This is true not only because each is responsible for
important work carried out in their respective spheres, but also because
of the interconnectedness of these. A wife, for example, not only super-
vises the slaves who work indoors but dispatches those slaves who work
outside (.); and the husband turns over to his wife the proceeds from
the work carried on outdoors and relies on her to manage the household
expenditures responsibly (.–).
A key element of successful household management is that both hus-
band and wife not only work as supervisors of those under them but also
identify and train individuals who can act as their agents in supervising
others. Although Xenophon clearly envisions the possibility that these
managerial agents may be free men (.–), Ischomachus assumes that
they will be slaves who are part of the household and who will be
supervising other slaves within the hierarchy of the household (.).
The husband, for his part, needs to identify and train an overseer (epi-
tropos) to help manage the outdoor work (.–), the wife a housekeeper
(tamias) to assist in managing the indoor work (.–). For the husband
and wife to select and train these supervisors, they themselves need to have
an active knowledge of what is required to manage others; and it is critical


That management is somehow not work is alien to Xenophon’s conception of it: see Anastasiadis
:  n. .

On this imagery and its use elsewhere in Greek literature, see Pomeroy : –. For the idea
that a husband is his wife’s teacher, see Hes., Erg. –, with Too : –; cf. X. Smp. ..

On the unusual (for Athens) level of responsibility of Ischomachus’ wife for managing the
household’s finances, see Pomeroy : –. On Xenophon’s deviation from contemporary
stereotypes of women and their proper roles, see ibid. –. From a modern perspective, there is
undoubtedly a sexist dimension to Ischomachus’ efforts to make his wife more like a man (Oec.
.; cf. Murnaghan ), but the fact that Xenophon believes this is truly possible suggests that
he is more enlightened concerning the capacities of women than most of his contemporaries.
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
that they identify persons of good character who can learn and put into
practice the principles of good management.
At the heart of effective management for Xenophon is the ability to lead
and to govern others, and it is this that husband and wife must themselves
master and inculcate in those who will serve as managers under them.
The master of the house is in a position analogous to that of a king
overseeing his subjects, and his vigilant supervision of those under him is
what ensures good results: “it is especially the master’s eye that does the
fine and worthy (kala kagatha) work” (.; cf. .–, Mem. ..). It
is not, however, possible for the master of the house to supervise all his
workers directly, and it is therefore incumbent on him to impart to his
subordinate overseer similar skills in governing others: “Anyone who can
make men fit to govern others can also teach them to be masters of others;
and if he can make them fit to be masters, he can make them fit to be
kings” (.; cf. .). Ischomachus strikingly asserts that an able master
can share the knowledge of governing with his slave manager and thereby
transform him into someone fit to be a master and king, like himself, and
goes on to declare that able slave managers thus created deserve to be
treated like free men and honored like gentlemen (.).
Although there is no mistaking the hierarchical nature of Ischomachus’
arrangements for making his estate as productive as possible, Xenophon
represents the successful operation of the estate as dependent on the
mutual collaboration and cooperation of all its workers from the highest
level of management down to the humblest laborer. Just as the collabora-
tion of husband and wife in the work they carry out in their respective
spheres is essential for the success of the household, so too is the collab-
oration of the entire household of workers. All are partners in working to
make the estate prosperous, and all benefit directly from this as part of a
system that fairly rewards those who contribute to the success of the
household enterprise (.–, .). Indeed, as we shall see, for Xeno-
phon the household, as a community (koinōnia) of collaborating


On Xenophon’s preoccupation with good leadership throughout his corpus, see Gray b:
–, –, with earlier scholarship.

Cf. Vilatte : –, who observes that the members of the household of a kalos kagathos mirror
him and his virtue.

This statement is startling in light of contemporary assumptions concerning the natural inferiority
of slaves (see Baragwanath : ). In Xenophon’s view, although learning the art of leadership
and management requires education (cf. .), one need not have an elite education to master
these (pace Johnstone : ); as Pomeroy (: ; cf. ) observes, “in the Oeconomicus all
members of the household ranging from the wife and the children-to-be to the slaves, the
housekeeper, and the farm foreman are subject to education.”
 Work, Management, and Entrepreneurship 
individuals (.), is a state on a small scale that embraces the same
principles that make for a successful polis.

Entrepreneurship as Work
If Xenophon extends conventional understandings of work to the mana-
gerial roles played by the oikonomos and his agents, he also represents the
entrepreneurial activity of an oikonomos as a legitimate and desirable form
of work. This attests to Xenophon’s conviction that it is critical for
members of the elite to strive to augment their estates through any
honorable means, even by adopting strategies that they may associate with
entrepreneurs of lower social status than themselves.
Although much of the Oeconomicus is devoted to relating how Ischo-
machus adopts prudent managerial strategies that will increase his estate’s
return, near its end Ischomachus pays homage to his father, who instructed
him not only on how to make a farm profitable but also on how to
strategically purchase new properties so as to maximize his profit from
his agricultural acumen:
For those who are capable of paying attention to it and who farm
energetically, farming provides a most effective way of making money
(chrēmatisin). My father proved this by his own practice and taught me
this. For he never allowed me to buy a piece of land that was well worked
(exeirgasmenon) but encouraged me to buy any that was uncultivated
and unplanted owing to the owner’s neglect or incapacity. Well worked
land, he would say, costs a lot and cannot be improved; and he believed
that where there is no room for improvement there is not much pleasure
to be got from the land, whereas he regarded every possession or living
creature that was constantly improving as particularly delightful. And
there is nothing that is capable of showing greater improvement than
land that becomes fully productive after being uncultivated. I assure you,
Socrates, that we have already increased the original price of numerous
plots of land many times over. There is so much money in this idea,
Socrates, and it is so easy to learn, that no sooner have you heard it from
me than you know as much as I do and can go home and teach it to
someone else, if you like. (.–)
In case the entrepreneurial dimension of this strategy is not clear, Ischo-
machus goes on to explain how his father, having improved a property,


On entrepreneurship in Xenophon, see Karayiannis .

On Xenophon’s use of the verb exergazomai here and elsewhere in connection with the
entrepreneurial exploitation of landed property, see Figueira : .
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
would sell it at a good price, and then immediately purchase another piece
of land that was out of cultivation, so as to work it and improve it (.).
If this entrepreneurial strategy seems fairly obvious to a modern capi-
talist, it might well seem novel and even radical to some members of
Xenophon’s elite reading audience. Indeed, just as Xenophon seeks to
shake up his elite readers by calling their attention to the importance of
actively seeking profit through their practice of farming and maximizing
their return by adopting effective managerial practices, so too he challenges
them to think creatively concerning how they can augment their estates
through the purchase, improvement, and resale of properties. The latter, in
fact, seems to be a logical extension of the former activities: If a member of
the elite should seek out profit through intelligent farming practices and
good management of his estate, it seems natural for him to maximize his
return by acquiring unproductive properties and then selling them for a
profit after improvement. In this case Ischomachus’ depiction of his
father’s entrepreneurial sharpness serves as a culminating illustration of
how a member of the elite can profit from work in its diverse forms.
Although Xenophon presents the entrepreneurism of Ischomachus’
father as innovative, he suggests that this is reconcilable with traditional
understandings of work. Ischomachus speaks of his father as possessing a
love of farming (philogeorgia) (.), a love of hard work (philoponia)
(.), and a love of labor (philergia) (.), which drive him to seek out
properties to improve (.). And just as Xenophon’s Socrates character-
izes farming itself as an activity that is both pleasurable and profitable, so
too Ischomachus presents his father’s entrepreneurial activities in connec-
tion with farming as providing both pleasure and profit (., .).
That engagement in entrepreneurial activity of this sort might be
problematic for some members of the elite is suggested by Socrates’ playful
equation of Ischomachus’ father’s work with that of distinctly un-elite
traders:
: You mean, Ischomachus, that your father naturally loved
farming as intensely as merchants (emporoi) love grain. So deep is their love
of grain that on receiving reports that it is abundant anywhere, merchants


Pomeroy (: , with n. ; cf. Christesen : ) reasonably doubts that land speculation
of this sort was rare (pace Finley :  n. ), but Xenophon assumes, in describing this
strategy in detail and presenting it as novel, that it will not be entirely familiar to his readership.

In each case, Xenophon endorses the intelligent pursuit of profit; his use of the figure that men
should contrive (mēchanasthai) to make money (., .) encapsulates the strategic dimension
of this.

On the low status of traders, many of whom were metics, in Athens, see Ober : .
 The Oikos and the City 
will voyage in quest of it: they will cross the Aegean, the Euxine, the Sicilian
sea, and when they have got as much as possible, they carry it over the sea
and actually stow it in the very ship in which they themselves sail. And
when they need money, they do not unload the grain just anywhere, but
they carry it to the place where they hear that grain is most valued and the
people prize it most highly, and deliver it to them there. Yes, your father’s
love of farming seems to be something like that.
: You’re joking, Socrates, but I believe that men who sell
houses as soon as they have built them and then build others are lovers of
building to just the same degree.
: Yes, by Zeus, and I swear that I believe you, Ischomachus, that
all men naturally love whatever they think will bring them profit.
(.–)
Whereas Ischomachus treats the equation of his father’s entrepreneurial
behavior with that of grain traders as a joke, Socrates suggests that these
ostensibly distinct enterprises overlap significantly since each is a manifes-
tation of the natural pursuit of profit by men (cf. Arist. EN a).
While Socrates stops short of encouraging members of the elite to become
grain merchants, his advocacy of the entrepreneurial pursuit of wealth
through agriculture is in keeping with his position throughout the Oeco-
nomicus that the elite should actively and self-consciously seek to augment
their households.

The Oikos and the City

Although the Oeconomicus focuses on how members of the elite can best
manage their individual estates, it does not envision them carrying this out
in isolation from the city at large. On the contrary, because Xenophon
views the oikos and the polis as intimately intertwined, his Oeconomicus is
ultimately as much about political life as private life. Let us consider
some of the ways that the ideal administration of an oikos is linked with
civic life and the success of the democratic city.
While some modern readers of the Oeconomicus have found in it an
idealized vision of an aristocrat’s self-sufficient life that is far removed from


If a traditional Athenian gentleman “was supposed to disdain overtly commercial activities and not
engage in professions that had money-making as their sole goal” (Pomeroy : ), this did not
stop some members of the elite from seeking to profit through trade. On elite involvement in the
grain trade, see Moreno : –, –.

Pace Danzig (a: ), Socrates is not critical of Ischomachus’ father for his pursuit of profit.

The Oeconomicus is not in my view a work that reflects “[d]isgust with politics” and a turning “away
from the public sphere” (Pomeroy : ).
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
the cares and turmoils of civic life, this is not what Xenophon seeks to
convey to his contemporary elite reader. As we have seen, the ultimate goal
of effective oikonomia for a member of the elite, Xenophon suggests, is to
create wealth that can sustain not only himself and his family but the city
at large (., .; cf. ., ., Mem. ..), and provide him with the
leisure necessary to participate in civic life (.). Xenophon’s Ischomachus,
moreover, plans his daily activities in such a way as to make himself better
able to contribute to the city: for example, equestrian practice prepares him
to be a good cavalryman (., ), and mock trials prepare him to be an
able litigant who can protect his own interests and advance those of the
city in court (.–, ). Thus, an ideal oikonomos is simultaneously a
good citizen who works hard to acquire the resources and skills that will
enable him to support and serve the city.
Xenophon further emphasizes the interconnectedness of individual
household and city by characterizing the oikos as a microcosm of the polis
that, when properly administered, partly replicates its institutions and
principles of good governance. Husband and wife each act as leader
(hēgemōn) (.) of those beneath them, and just as a well-run state places
a premium on orderliness, so too does Ischomachus in the domestic
sphere: he exhorts his wife to serve as guardian of the oikos’ laws to keep
it running in an orderly manner and to inspect the household’s equipment
“to determine whether each item is in good condition, just as the Council
scrutinizes the cavalry and the horses” (.–). And Ischomachus
himself draws directly on the city’s laws to make those working under
him upright (.–).
Interestingly, Ischomachus’ successful household mirrors the Athenian
democracy not only in its institutions and principles of good governance
but also in some respects in its political ideology. As we have seen,
Ischomachus fosters a collaborative community in which all work hard
for the common good and enjoy the benefits of this. He and his wife exert
themselves to carry out their respective tasks with care and intelligence
knowing that they are partners in a joint enterprise who will share in its
successes. They also work to ensure that those under them show an equal


Rood () surveys this modern reception of the Oeconomicus.

Although Xenophon sees substantial parallels between oikos and polis, he is not in my view seeking
to eliminate the difference between them as Murnaghan (: –) posits.

For the Athenian practice, see [Arist.] Ath. Pol. .–; on Xenophon’s evocation of it here, see
Pomeroy : –.

Ischomachus draws not only on the Athenian laws of Draco and Solon (.–) but on laws of the
Persian kings (.–).
 The Oikos and the City 
commitment to executing the tasks that fall to them and understand that
they too are partners in the household and will benefit directly by con-
tributing to its prosperity. This evokes a central tenet of Athenian demo-
cratic ideology, namely, that if citizens contribute to, and sacrifice for, the
city, they will individually and collectively reap the benefits of the city’s
successes. Indeed, just as the democratic city promises rewards to the
citizens who toil (ponein) and undergo risks (kindunein) for it on the
battlefield, Ischomachus holds out rewards to members of his household
who work hard on its behalf. Xenophon is so eager to make this equation
between meritorious work on behalf of the household and that on behalf
of the city that he speaks of good slaves as toiling (ponein) and running
risks (kindunein) for the household (.–, .–), although “run-
ning risks” better suits the martial activity of the city’s soldiers (.–,
.) than the work of a household’s slaves.
Because oikos and polis closely resemble each other as communities and
the same principles of good governance and ideologies of shared sacrifice
and reward make each successful (cf. .), one might naturally infer that
the oikos can serve as an incubator of leadership and management abilities
that can be applied on the level of the polis. In the Memorabilia, in fact,
Xenophon makes explicit that managing an oikos can prepare a man for the
more ambitious task of managing a city, when his Socrates pointedly
suggests to the overly ambitious Glaucon that he should learn how to
manage a single household before seeking to manage an entire city (..;
cf. Mem. ..). Thus, for Xenophon the oikos, as a polis in miniature,
provides a natural training ground for developing the values, skills, and
understanding needed to lead a city.

Xenophon’s Oeconomicus opens with a critique of elite neglect of

oikonomia, and proceeds to present Ischomachus as a model of how
members of the elite should pursue profit methodically in managing their
estates. In so doing, it calls on its elite readers not only to apply themselves
to the important activity of oikonomia but also to reconceptualize what it
means to be a gentleman. Challenging the assumption that a man of high
birth or wealth is automatically a gentleman, Xenophon insists that a true
gentleman is distinguished by his laudable activities, including the work he

 
See Christ : –. See, e.g., Lys. .; Ziolkowski : ; Loraux : –.

According to Xenophon, oikonomia is also important to the administration of a state: see Cyr.
..–, with Pomeroy : . For a challenge to the idea that oikos and polis differ from one
another only in scale, see Arist. Pol. a–.
 Work, Money, and the Gentleman in the Oeconomicus
carries out in his daily life in running his estate; a man merits this title not
because he lives a life of leisure, but because he pursues his occupation
(ergasia) as manager of an estate successfully. Although the work (ergon)
that he undertakes as oikonomos is primarily managerial, it is demanding
and challenging and is, like the physical labor of those whom he manages,
intrinsically valuable and carries both moral and practical benefits. Indeed,
his energetic work as manager and leader of his oikos mirrors the role
played by successful political leaders within a polis and prepares him to step
into this role, as befits a man of status within the city, should the
opportunity present itself.
This revisionist view of how elite Athenians should conceptualize their
relation to work challenges class assumptions of innate superiority, as it
demands virtuous effort and action in the form of real work from those
who would like to be called gentlemen. Two features of Xenophon’s
presentation of this challenge may make it more palatable to skeptics
among his elite readers.
First, although Xenophon exhorts elite Athenians to embrace work and
seek profit, he does not endorse the pursuit of profit for its own sake – a
sensitive point for traditional aristocrats – but rather because this will allow
members of the elite to carry out roles that will preserve and enhance their
status. The wealth that they accrue will enable them to assist their friends
and to serve the city through the liturgies and other benefactions they carry
out, and also ensure that they have the leisure needed to participate actively
in civic life. Thus, the pursuit of profit by the elite, Xenophon insists, is
consistent with their long-standing pursuit of honor and status (philotimia)
within the community, and indeed the former facilitates the latter.
Second, the fact that Xenophon focuses on agriculture as the sphere in
which the elite can devote themselves to the pursuit of profit makes his
message less alienating for traditionally minded members of the elite.
Xenophon is not exhorting his readers to abandon the sphere with which
they are most familiar and comfortable, but rather to work more method-
ically toward reaping profit within it. Whereas Xenophon endorses entre-
preneurial behavior on the part of the elite outside of agriculture in his
Memorabilia, in the Oeconomicus he simply urges the elite to embrace a
profit-seeking mentality in managing their estates. When Xenophon holds
up as a model the entrepreneurial behavior of Ischomachus’ father, who


Cf. Christesen (: ; cf. ), who observes that it was possible for Athenians to pursue “income
maximization” while remaining “sensitive to societal norms.”

See above, note .
 The Oikos and the City 
not only farms successfully but also buys underperforming farms and sells
them for a profit after improving them, he may make some of his readers
uncomfortable, but the fact that this entrepreneurial activity involves land
and farming may make it seem less radical.
Xenophon thus offers his elite Athenian readers a new vision of elite
identity in promoting the idea that gentlemen should work hard and
actively seek profit through their estate management, while remaining
sensitive to their deeply held values and traditional modes of behavior.
His presentation of Ischomachus as a model shows them how to live their
daily lives energetically and productively so as to benefit themselves, their
friends, and their city. Indeed, by emulating Ischomachus, Xenophon’s
elite readers can live well and prosper not just within the oikos but in the
democratic city at large.
  

The Education of Callias in the Symposium

Although Xenophon’s Symposium has long been overshadowed by Plato’s

masterpiece of the same name, it provides further valuable evidence of
Xenophon’s communications with his elite Athenian readers concerning
their proper role in the democratic city. At first glance, Xenophon’s
Symposium may appear to be concerned primarily with elite social relations
in the private setting of a dinner party, but on closer examination it shows
a deep interest in the role of the Athenian elite in the political life of the
city. Just as the Oeconomicus’ purview extends beyond the seemingly
private world of the household to the role of the elite in the democratic
city, so too the Symposium ultimately looks outward to the place of elite
citizens in civic life. Notwithstanding the Symposium’s often humorous
portrayal of aristocrats at play, it shares with both the Memorabilia and
Oeconomicus a serious commitment to explore and clarify how elite indi-
viduals can be good citizens and leaders under the democracy.
While the Socrates of Xenophon’s Memorabilia seeks to educate a wide
range of elite Athenians so they can better serve the democratic city, the
Symposium’s Socrates focuses his educational efforts on an individual,
Callias, the host of the dinner party, who is a man of great wealth, high
birth, and little understanding. Through the course of the Symposium,
Socrates and his surrogates challenge Callias’ assumptions about wealth
and the power it gives its possessor, and eventually Socrates turns the
discussion to how Callias can improve himself so as to succeed in the
political life of the city and thereby merit the respect and friendship
(philia) of Autolycus, the boy of whom he is enamored. Once we appre-
ciate the centrality of Callias’ education to the Symposium, we can better
understand the curious dynamics of this work and its place in Xenophon’s
larger project to transform his elite Athenian readers into real gentlemen
and good citizens under the democracy.
After a brief survey of how scholars have sought to make sense of
Xenophon’s Symposium, this chapter sets forth the grounds for viewing it

 The Education of Callias in the Symposium 
as centered largely on the education of Callias. It then turns to consider in
detail Xenophon’s portrayal of Callias’ Socratic education concerning first
the limits of wealth and then the political role to which he should aspire
within the city. Finally, it considers how this case study in the education of
a member of the elite relates to Xenophon’s portrayal of Socrates’ efforts
especially in the Memorabilia to transform the city’s elite into good citizens
who can lead the democratic city.

In the Symposium, Xenophon paints a colorful and lively scene of a

gathering of elite Athenians in  that he purports to have attended
(.). At its opening, he sets out the circumstances of the symposium:
when Callias was returning from the horse races at the greater Panathenaic
games with Autolycus, whom he was courting and who had been the victor
in the boy’s pancratium at the games; Autolycus’ father, Lycon; and
Niceratus, he caught sight of Socrates, Critobulus, Hermogenes,
Antisthenes, and Charmides and invited them to attend a symposium in
honor of Autolycus and his father at his home in the Piraeus. When the
group assembles, they are joined by a jester, Philip, who shows up
uninvited, and are entertained by a company of slaves, two girls and a
boy, who under the supervision of their owner – an unnamed Syracusan –
dance, perform acrobatics, and eventually act out the amorous story of
Dionysus and Ariadne. All of this, however, is the backdrop to the
conversations among the symposiasts that Xenophon relates. They first
discuss what each man takes most pride in – Callias leads off by asserting
his pride in his wealth – and then the subject of erotic desire (erōs). The
latter discussion, however, soon segues into a Socratic lecture directed to
Callias concerning the proper behavior of lover (erastēs) and beloved
(eromenos) in a pederastic relationship, as Socrates warns him not to seek
physical pleasure from Autolycus and urges him to make himself worthy of
the boy’s philia by becoming an expert in political affairs and a leader
within the city.
Scholars have been especially interested in the relation of this work to
Plato’s Symposium. Most agree that Plato’s work is earlier and that Xeno-
phon is responding to it, for example, when his Socrates adamantly takes
issue with the idea that the most valiant army would be one consisting of


On the likely fictive nature of Xenophon’s claim of attendance (not least because he would have been
only a young boy at this date), see Huss :  n. .

For the minority view that Xenophon’s Symposium antedates Plato’s work, see Thesleff  and
Danzig .
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
lovers and their beloveds (.–; cf. Pl. Smp. e–a). Although
this helps contextualize Xenophon’s Symposium and attests to his rivalry
with Plato, only part of Xenophon’s work directly engages with its Platonic
predecessor. If we seek to understand Xenophon’s Symposium more fully,
we must assess it in its own terms and against the broader backdrop of
Xenophon’s other Socratic writings.
Xenophon provides some guidance concerning the intent of the Sym-
posium at its opening, when he declares: “In my view it is worthwhile to
relate not only the serious activities of gentlemen (kaloi kagathoi), but also
what they do in their lighter moments” (.). In keeping with this,
through the course of the work Xenophon shows Socrates and his fellow
symposiasts at play as they joke, banter, and enjoy the entertainment
provided for them. While this facet of the Symposium sets it apart from
Xenophon’s other Socratic writings, it turns out that Socrates and his
companions even in their “lighter moments” address serious topics in a
way that invites comparison with Xenophon’s other Socratic works.
Scholars have observed that the Symposium, like Xenophon’s Memora-
bilia, Oeconomicus, and Apology, offers an apologia for Socrates, whom the
city condemned to death in  on the charge of corrupting the young and
impiety. It does so, like these other works, by advancing a carefully
constructed and idealized picture of Socrates, his values and ideas, and
his promotion of these in his conversations with others; this makes it clear
that Socrates sought to improve those around him, including the young,
and was in no way impious. The Symposium’s apologetic dimension
becomes explicit at one point when the Syracusan invokes the
Aristophanic caricature of Socrates as a head-in-the clouds intellectual,
and Socrates gently deflects the insult (.–; cf. Ar. Nu. –, ).
With the exception of this awkward interlude, however, Xenophon’s
portrayal of Socrates and his interactions with his fellow symposiasts offers
implicit refutation of Socrates’ critics by showing him as a man of high
values and principles who seeks to improve those around him through his
conversations with them.


Xenophon mistakenly attributes this argument to Plato’s Pausanias instead of his Phaedrus. Huss
(: –) collects a long list of parallels between the two works, but only some of these clearly
attest to direct influence of Plato on Xenophon.

On the interplay of light and serious elements in Xenophon’s Symposium, see Huss : –.

On apologetic features of the Symposium, see Huss : –. I am not persuaded by Danzig
(: –, , ) that the charge against Socrates of corrupting the youth was based in part on
the suspicion that he had sexual relations with the young men who associated with him and that a
part of the apologetic program of the Symposium is to defend Socrates from this.
 (Re)educating Callias 
If the Symposium shares with Xenophon’s other Socratic works an
apologetic agenda, however, it also overlaps with the Memorabilia and
Oeconomicus, in portraying Socrates as an educator of his elite interlocutors
in their proper role in the democratic city. Although Xenophon portrays
Callias’ symposium as an intimate social gathering of elite individuals, the
city and civic life are very present throughout the Symposium (.,
.–, ., ., .–, .–, ., ., .) and strikingly so
in Socrates’ culminating speech in which he exhorts Callias to commit
himself to an active political life (.–). This political dimension of
Xenophon’s portrayal of Socrates in the Symposium and its close relation to
Xenophon’s presentation of the Socratic enterprise elsewhere have not
been fully appreciated.

(Re)educating Callias
That the Symposium portrays the education of Callias is not immediately
evident. The Symposium presents a somewhat chaotic mélange of enter-
tainment, banter, and conversation, and its episodic structure reinforces
the impression that it is an eclectic composition. Xenophon’s portrayal of
Callias’ education over the course of the Symposium, however, provides a
significant strand that helps connect and make sense of its different
components.
The issue of Callias’ education crops up conspicuously at the opening of
the Symposium, when Callias invites Socrates and his companions to his
dinner party:
“This is an opportune meeting, for I am about to entertain Autolycus and
his father; and I think that my arrangements would shine much brighter if
my dining room were graced with the presence of men like you, whose
souls have been purified, than it would with generals and cavalry
commanders and office seekers.” “You are always mocking us,” replied
Socrates, “feeling superior because you have paid a lot of money to
Protagoras, Gorgias, Prodicus, and many others for knowledge (epi sophiai),
while you view us as some kind of amateurs in philosophy.” “It is true,” said
Callias, “that so far I have been concealing from you my ability to say plenty
of smart things (sopha); but now, if you will join me, I will show you that
I am a person worth taking very seriously.” (.–)


See Danzig : – and : –.

Gray (: ) notes that Socrates, in his culminating speech in the Symposium, is involved in
educating Callias, but does not see a strong connection between Socrates’ speech and the earlier
speeches. On education (paideia) as central to the institution of the symposium, see Wohl :
, with earlier scholarship ( n. ); cf. Hobden : .
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
Socrates challenges the sincerity of Callias’ flattering characterization of him
and his companions on the grounds that Callias regards himself as superior
to them because he has paid a great deal of money to sophists (cf. Pl. Ap.
a) and thereby attained wisdom. This snipe at Callias paves the way for
the exposure of his poor education in the course of the Symposium.
That Callias’ education will be subject to close scrutiny becomes clear
when Socrates later returns to Callias’ promise to exhibit the knowledge he
has acquired and prove himself to be a man who should be taken seriously:
“For my part,” Socrates said, “I would most like to take Callias up on his
promise; he said, you remember, that if we had dinner with him, he would
give us an exhibition of his knowledge (sophian).” “Yes,” replied Callias;
“and I will do so, if the rest of you also contribute any knowledge that each
has that is fine.” “Well,” answered Socrates, “no one objects to telling what
he considers the most valuable knowledge in his possession.” (.)
In inviting Callias to exhibit his knowledge, Socrates initiates the first
major topic of conversation among the symposiasts, namely, in what each
of them takes the greatest pride. As we shall see, in the discussion that
ensues, Callias’ pride in his wealth emerges as unfounded, and this con-
tradicts his claim to have received an education that has made him wise.
Socrates’ disdain for Callias’ sophistic education arises explicitly later in
an exchange he has with Antisthenes. When Antisthenes objects to Socra-
tes’ characterization of him as a panderer, Socrates replies:
“I know,” he said, “that you acted the part of panderer between Callias here
and the wise Prodicus when you saw that Callias lusted (erōnta) for
philosophy and that Prodicus needed money. I also know that you did
the same for Hippias the Elean, from whom Callias got his memory system;
and ever since then Callias has become more lustful (erōtikōteros) than ever,
because he never forgets any beauty he sees.” (.)
Although Socrates’ characterization of Antisthenes as a panderer is playful,
his representation of Callias’ sophistic education is barbed. Callias’
“match” with Prodicus is dubiously grounded in the happy coincidence
of Prodicus’ need for money and Callias’ lust for philosophy, which evokes
the relationship of a sex worker and paying customer (cf. Mem. ..);


On the shift in .– from each symposiast being called on to speak of his most valuable knowledge
to each being asked to share what he takes the greatest pride in, see Gray : –; Bowen :
; Hobden : , ; and Gilhuly : –.

Xenophon’s Socrates adamantly rejects the mercantile relationship between sophists and their
students (Mem. .., .., ..–, ..–; Ap. ; Dorion : ); Xenophon does the
same in his own voice at Cyn. .–; cf. An. ..–. Although Socrates invokes Prodicus with
approval in Mem. ..–, his representation of his relationship with Callias at Smp. . is
 (Re)educating Callias 
and while Callias gets something potentially useful in the pursuit of
knowledge from Hippias, namely, a memory system, this only heightens
his lust since it means he remembers whatever beautiful object he
encounters.
The Symposium’s exposure of the defects of Callias’ sophistic education
goes hand in hand with Socrates’ emergence as the sort of teacher Callias
should seek out and heed. Socrates colorfully portrays himself in his role as
educator of his companions as a procurer, justifying this with the quip, “If
a person could render people attractive to the entire city, would he not be
hands-down an ideal procurer?” (.). That Socrates, in improving his
companions and transforming them into men who can lead the city, is a
procurer of sorts, is confirmed by Callias himself after Socrates has
instructed him on the sort of person he should strive to be (cf. .):
“So you mean to play the procurer, do you, Socrates, bringing me to the
attention of the city, so that I can enter politics and always be pleasing to
it?” (.).
This sketch of the centrality of Callias’ education to the Symposium
suggests that Xenophon, within the framework of describing an elite
dinner party, presents Socrates in a similar role to the one we see him
playing so often in the Memorabilia, namely, as challenger and corrector of
elite arrogance and ignorance, and an advocate for the elite embracing
political life and leadership within the democracy. In keeping with the
congenial and playful setting of the Symposium, Socrates is for the most
part a gentle instructor of Callias; as we have seen in the Memorabilia,
Socrates can be direct and even brutal in interrogating elite individuals and
exposing their vanities and ignorance. Nonetheless, the Symposium’s
Socrates pursues an educational agenda that is very similar to the one
attributed to him in the Memorabilia.

critical; Prodicus may be “wise” (as Dorion [] emphasizes), but he is involved in a dubious
relationship with his student.

Although Socrates goes on to playfully describe how Antisthenes roused a desire in him to meet
with notable visitors to Athens (.), his characterization of Callias as a man consumed by his
desires is not entirely playful, as becomes evident later when Socrates lectures Callias on the proper
restraint a lover should show toward the boy whom he is courting.

On Socrates as a matchmaker between potential leaders and the city, cf. Mem. .. and ;
Dorion and Bandini a: –, .

Huss (: –) proposes that Xenophon evokes a past golden age in his portrayal of the
interactions and conversations in the Symposium, but this overlooks the tensions and frictions
involved in the education of Callias.

In my view, the Symposium is not more open-ended and deliberative than Xenophon’s other
Socratic works, as Hobden posits (: –, : –, –).
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
In a key passage in the Memorabilia, Xenophon observes that Socrates
encouraged his interlocutors to seek excellence (aretē) through education
so as “to be not only prosperous themselves and successful in the manage-
ment of their households, but also capable of conferring prosperity on
other people and states alike” (..), and that he admonished them that
wealth and high birth on their own are not sufficient to achieve these ends
(..–). Xenophon’s Symposium provides a case study in how Callias, as
a man of both wealth and high birth, overestimates the power of the
former and fails to live up to the high expectations that the latter carries
with it. Let us consider in detail how Callias’ assumptions about wealth
are undercut in the first part of the Symposium, and then how Socrates
proceeds to educate Callias concerning the political role he should pursue
in the democratic city as a man of high birth.

Callias, Wealth, and the Democratic City

Socrates makes Callias’ confidence in the power of his wealth an issue
when he observes that Callias believes he is superior to others because he
has paid a great deal of money to sophists for knowledge (.; cf. .),
and then steers the conversation toward scrutiny of this belief (.–).
Although Socrates is clearly skeptical of Callias’ belief that his wealth can
buy him knowledge, he leaves it to his fellow symposiasts – and Antisthe-
nes in particular – in the conversation that follows to challenge Callias’
false assumptions about wealth’s capacities and desirability. Since Xeno-
phon’s Socrates is not normally reticent when it comes to exposing the
shortcomings of his elite interlocutors and, in fact, later in the Symposium
assumes a more active role in educating Callias, his restraint here requires
some explanation. This may reflect Xenophon’s desire to portray Socrates
in his lighter moments as ready to hold back on direct confrontation with a
wrong-headed interlocutor and to allow his fellow symposiasts an oppor-
tunity to challenge Callias. In any event, although Xenophon assigns
Socrates a fairly modest role in the conversation concerning wealth that
ensues, his Antisthenes fills the void and plays an identifiably Socratic role
in interrogating and confuting Callias and in advancing a recognizably
Socratic perspective on wealth.


Cf. Dorion and Bandini b: .

Here and elsewhere in the Symposium, Socrates is “the self-appointed director of the symposion”
(Hobden : ; cf. ).

On Xenophon’s presentation of sympotic protocols and practices, see Hobden : – and
: –.
 Callias, Wealth, and the Democratic City 
As the symposiasts, with Socrates’ guidance, turn to discuss what each
“considers the most valuable knowledge in his possession” (.), Callias
makes a remarkable and enigmatic claim: “I will now tell you what I take
greatest pride in. It is that I believe I have the ability to make people
better” (.). Although Antisthenes immediately seeks clarification of this
claim and ascertains that Callias believes he makes people better by
teaching them justice (dikaiosunē), the basis of Callias’ claim is only
revealed later when he elaborates on it:
“While I listen to you as you wonder what justice is, I am all the time
actually making men more just.” “Excellent man. How so?” asked Socrates.
“By giving them money, by Zeus.” Then Antisthenes got up and started to
interrogate him in best cross-examining fashion. “Where do you think men
keep their justice, Callias, in their souls or in their wallets?” “In their souls,”
he replied. “So you make their souls more just by putting money into their
wallets?” “I surely do.” “How?” “Because they know that they have the
wherewithal to buy what they need, they have no wish to risk committing
crimes.” “And do they repay you,” he asked, “what they get?” “No, by
Zeus!” he replied. “Well, do they give thanks instead of money?” “No
indeed, not that either,” he said. “On the contrary, some of them dislike me
even more than before they got the money.” “Remarkable,” said Antisthe-
nes, staring at him as though he had him cornered, “if you can make them
just toward others but not toward yourself.” “What is so remarkable about
that?” asked Callias. “Do you not see plenty of carpenters and architects
too, who build houses for many people but can’t do it for themselves, so
instead live in rented places? Come now, you sophist, see how it feels to be
refuted!” “By Zeus,” said Socrates, “let him. For even the soothsayers, you
know, are said to prophesy the future for others while being unable to
foresee what’s headed their way.” Here the discussion of that point ended.
(.–)
This exchange, though brief, provides a devastating view of Callias’ naivete
and ignorance concerning the power of his wealth.
Although Callias’ boast that he makes people better by teaching them
justice raises high expectations and sets him up as a potential rival to
Socrates, whom Xenophon presents as improving his companions by
teaching them moral virtues (cf. Mem. ..–), it turns out to be
utterly groundless. When Socrates encourages Callias to explain how it is
that he makes men more just with the words “Excellent man. How so?,”
we may expect him, as he does elsewhere, to cross-examine his interlocutor


Hobden (: –, –; cf. Gray ) observes that this initiates competitive set-piece
displays of wisdom by the symposiasts.
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
and expose his ignorance, but instead Antisthenes eagerly steps forward to
take up the interrogation. Antisthenes quickly exposes the absurdity of
Callias’ claim that he makes men more just by giving them money when he
gets him to acknowledge that those to whom he gives money do not treat
him justly. Callias’ attempt to refute Antisthenes by comparing his
situation to that of carpenters and architects who build houses for others
but themselves live in rented places verges on the nonsensical. Although
Socrates may seem to side with Callias when he interjects his own analogy
concerning soothsayers, one has the strong sense that Socrates has merci-
fully interceded to prevent the further humiliation of the symposium’s
host by Antisthenes rather than that he embraces Callias’ naive view of the
power of wealth to make men just. If Antisthenes serves as a Socratic
surrogate in exposing the thinness of Callias’ claim to improve other men
with his wealth, his aggressive interrogation of Callias threatens to disrupt
the party’s congeniality, and Socrates himself steps in to prevent the
situation from getting out of hand.
While Xenophon concludes this episode, “Here the discussion of that
point ended (.),” his examination of wealth has only just begun.
Wealth – and the lack thereof – are central to the speeches of Charmides
and Antisthenes that follow. When Charmides initially asserts that what
he takes pride in is his poverty (.), Socrates quips, “A charming thing, to
be sure! It seldom inspires envy, seldom causes fights; it is safeguarded
without guards, and grows stronger by neglect” (.). When Charmides
later expounds on the basis of his pride, however, it turns out that he
embraces poverty largely because this relieves him of the abuses he claims
to have suffered as a wealthy man under the democracy:
But Callias now remarked, “It is your turn, Charmides, to tell us why
poverty makes you feel proud.” “Very well,” he said. “Everyone agrees
about this: confidence is preferable to fear, freedom to slavery, getting
attention to giving it, the trust of one’s country to its distrust. Now, as


On the exposure of Callias’ ignorance, see Gray :  and Hobden : . As Danzig (:
– n. ) notes, Callias’ claim to improve men with his money goes beyond the claim of Plato’s
Cephalus that his wealth allows him to behave justly (R. a–b).

As Bowen (: ) observes, “Kallias was getting irritated by Antisthenes, and Sokrates
intervenes to lower the temperature”; cf. Gera : . Hobden (: ) proposes that
Socrates’ juxtaposition of his analogy with that of Callias is not an endorsement but an act of
“capping” in which one symposiast seeks to outdo another. Danzig (: ) believes that
“Callias wins his point.”

On Xenophon’s portrayal of Antisthenes as overly aggressive, see Bowen :  and Gera :
–. Gera (; cf. Danzig : ) observes that Antisthenes is a more rigid and rude version of
the Symposium’s Socrates.

Cf. Danzig : .
 Callias, Wealth, and the Democratic City 
for my situation in our city, when I was rich, first of all I feared someone
tunneling into my house and not only taking my money, but also doing me
harm; and second, I paid court to legal blackmailers (sykophants), knowing
that I was more liable to suffer injury from them than inflict it. Then too,
I was forever being ordered by the city to undertake some expenditure, and
I could never leave town. Whereas now, since I am stripped of my property
over the border, get no income from my holdings in Attica, and my
household goods have been sold, I stretch out and sleep well, I have gained
the trust of the city, I get no more threats – I threaten others now – and
I have the free man’s choice of leaving town or staying home. Rich men
now actually rise from their seats in deference to me, and get out of my way
in the street. Now I am like a despot; then I was clearly a slave. Then I paid
tribute to the people (dēmōi); now I live on the money that the city pays to
me. What’s more, when I was rich, people used to vilify me for consorting
with Socrates, but now that I am poor no one cares about that at all any
more. And when my property was large, I was continually losing some of it
either to the city or to bad luck, but now I lose nothing because I have
nothing, but I am always expecting to get something.” “So do you also
pray,” asked Callias, “never to be rich, and if you have a good dream do you
sacrifice to the averters of disaster?” “Not at all,” he replied; “I do not go as
far as that; I accept the outcome like a daredevil if I am hoping to get
something from somewhere.” (.–)
Why does Xenophon include this politically tinged “praise” of poverty in
his Symposium?
An obstacle to making sense of Charmides’ speech is the assumption of
some scholars that Xenophon endorses Charmides’ jaundiced perspective
on the position of wealthy men under the democracy. Significantly,
neither Xenophon as narrator nor his Socrates expresses approval of
Charmides’ point of view. In fact, Socrates’ exhortation to Callias later
in the Symposium to seek office under the democracy is at odds with
Charmides’ complaint that the rich are merely slaves of the dēmos and
helpless in the political sphere. Socrates’ exhortation to Charmides
himself in the Memorabilia to step forward to advise the dēmos (.) also
takes for granted that the city’s elite are not powerless within the democ-
racy. And while Xenophon’s Socrates does not take a position in the


Tamiolaki (: –, , –) is in my view wrong to take Charmides’ complaints about how
the financial obligations of the rich make them slaves of the state (.–) and Callias’ echo of this
(.) as evidence of Xenophon’s own oligarchic inclinations. Tuplin (: –) rightly
observes that “elite complaints about the democratic environment were natural in the fictive
historical environment of Socratic literature, but Xenophon’s Socrates does not endorse them.”

Cf. also Socrates’ refutation of Aristippus, who characterizes leadership of a state as a form of slavery
(Mem. .).
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
Symposium on the city’s financial demands on wealthy Athenians, in the
Oeconomicus he views these (.) as cause not for griping but rather for
prudent estate management that will enable wealthy men to meet their
civic obligations (.–; cf. .–, Mem. ..).
A closer look at this episode suggests that Xenophon is presenting
Charmides’ complaints humorously and is gently satirizing them. Wealthy
Athenians regularly complained publicly about sykophants, the popular
courts, and their financial obligations to the city. Xenophon’s Char-
mides, speaking in private among his peers, amplifies these complaints and
hyperbolically speaks of the rich as slaves to the dēmos, and claims that now
that he is poor he enjoys lording it over the wealthy – apparently as a juror
with power over them and their fortunes. While Charmides seems to be
sincere in advancing these complaints, there is something overdrawn and
even comic about his stark presentation of class relations; indeed, this
recalls Aristophanes’ caricature of the oppression of the rich by poor jurors
in Wasps (–).
That Charmides is exaggerating the trials and tribulations of wealthy
Athenians under the democracy becomes clear after he concludes his
speech. When Callias asks him, in light of the manifest benefits of poverty
in Athens, whether he prays that he will never be rich again, Charmides
replies that this is not the case and that, notwithstanding the dangers, he
hopes to “get something from somewhere.” This acknowledgment under-
cuts the hyperbolic claims that he has just made about the miserable
situation of wealthy Athenians, and we are left to conclude that despite
the “burdens” of being rich under the democracy, Charmides – and
presumably elite Athenians in general – would much prefer wealth to
poverty.
If we are meant to take Charmides’ complaints about the burden of
wealth and his embrace of poverty with a grain of salt, his speech legiti-
mately calls into question Callias’ naive assumption that wealth is an


Xenophon may sympathize with Charmides’ complaints about sykophants under the democracy
(see HG ..), but his Socrates suggests to Crito (Mem. .) that members of the elite need not be
victims of sykophants if they act strategically (cf. Tuplin : ).

On elite complaints concerning sykophancy and the popular courts, see Christ : –; on
their complaints concerning financial obligations, see Christ : –.

There are also hints that he may envision himself alternatively or in addition in the role of
sykophant: see Christ : . Although Xenophon is vague concerning the source of
Charmides’ alleged financial hardship in , when the Symposium is set, he may be thinking
anachronistically of Charmides’ loss of his property in  when it was confiscated by the city after
he was convicted of profaning the Mysteries: see Wallace : – and Nails : –.

Cf. Tuplin : .
 Callias, Wealth, and the Democratic City 
unqualified good, and paves the way for more serious reflection on this by
Antisthenes, who speaks immediately after him. Antisthenes offers a
sustained argument in favor of preferring poverty to wealth as he elaborates
on his earlier enigmatic claim (.) that he prides himself on his wealth,
though he acknowledges that he has no money or property:
“Come now, Antisthenes,” said Socrates, “take your turn and tell us how it
is that with such slender means you base your pride on wealth.” “Because,
gentlemen, I think that men’s wealth and poverty are to be found not in
their estates but in their souls. For I see many private citizens who have
plenty of money but consider themselves so poor that they undertake any
toil and any risk that might make them more money; and I know of
brothers with equal shares in their inheritance where one of them has
enough and more than enough to meet expenses, while the other is always
short of everything. I know of certain despots, too, who have so great an
appetite for money that they commit much more dreadful crimes than the
most destitute: for because of want presumably some steal, others break in,
others follow the slave trade, but there are some despots who destroy whole
families, carry out mass killings, and often enslave even whole cities for the
sake of money. (.–)
In contrast to men who seek endlessly to acquire money to sate their
unrestrained appetites, Antisthenes embraces a frugal lifestyle in which his
simple needs are amply met and he has leisure to converse with Socrates;
and just as Socrates shares the wealth of his soul with Antisthenes,
Antisthenes does so with anyone who wants this (.–).
In explaining why he takes pride in his “wealth,” Antisthenes endorses a
frugal lifestyle that Xenophon associates closely elsewhere with Socrates.
Thus, for example, in the Memorabilia, Xenophon declares that Socrates
“was so frugal that it is hardly possible to imagine a man doing so little
work as not to earn enough to satisfy the needs of Socrates” (..), and in
the Oeconomicus, Xenophon’s Socrates suggests that despite his modest
means he is better off than the wealthy Critobulus since his property is
enough to satisfy his modest wants, whereas Critobulus’ lavish lifestyle
demands a much larger fortune than he has (.). That Antisthenes’
vision of true wealth is indebted to Socrates becomes evident near the end
of his speech, when he credits Socrates with enriching him: “Socrates here,
from whom I acquired this wealth, never supplied me by number or
weight but kept on handing me however much I could manage to carry”


Although Socrates presents his own modest lifestyle as ideal in the Oeconomicus, he accepts that this
is not realistic for members of the elite, who need to seek wealth to sustain their status and
prominence in the city (.–); cf. Dorion and Bandini a: –.
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
(.); it is this wealth, of the soul rather than of material possessions, that
Antisthenes in turn shares freely with others.
As Antisthenes pays homage to Socrates, however, he simultaneously
criticizes Callias. This is explicit when he points out that despite his
modest resources, he can “put on enough clothing that I am no colder
outside than my super-rich friend Callias here” (.), and when he takes a
jab at Callias’ purchase of expensive Thasian wine for his symposium
(.). Antisthenes challenges not only Callias’ extravagant lifestyle but
also his confidence in the power of his money. When Antisthenes speaks of
despots who are so eager to get more money that they commit much worse
crimes than the very poorest men (.; cf. Mem. ..), he disputes
Callias’ earlier naive claim that he makes men more just by giving them
money so they have no need to commit crime (.). The final words of his
speech also seem to be aimed critically at Callias: “Like me, Socrates is not
impressed by those who count the most gold but spends his time with
those congenial to him” (.). As one of the city’s wealthiest citizens,
Callias can certainly be said to be one of those who “count the most gold”
(cf. .); and he pays exorbitant fees to sophists for worthless “knowl-
edge” (.; cf. .) when he could associate for free with Socrates and
gain real knowledge.
If Antisthenes is seeking to educate Callias, he proves to be an obtuse
student, as is evident from his immediate response to Antisthenes’ speech:
“‘So help me Hera,’ commented Callias, ‘among my reasons for congrat-
ulating you on your wealth is that the city does not order you around and
treat you like a slave, another is that people don’t get angry if you don’t
make them a loan’” (.). Callias completely misses the relevance of
Antisthenes’ criticisms to him, and rather than reply to these, he simply
echoes Charmides’ hyperbolic assertion that the democratic city enslaves
its wealthy citizens (.; cf. .). One gathers that Callias will not be
embracing an austere lifestyle like Socrates’ anytime soon.

Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician

In his efforts to educate Callias, Antisthenes acts as a Socratic surrogate,
first in his devastating interrogation of Callias concerning his claim to
improve men with his money, and then in his pointed presentation of


For Callias’ reputation for great wealth in the late s, see Lys. ., with Davies : .

Pace Gray : : “Callias is capable of irony but he sees that there is much to envy in the
wisdom of his guests and little to envy in his wealth.”
 Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician 
Socratic frugality as an alternative to Callias’ lavish lifestyle, and of Socratic
wealth of the soul as preferable to Callias’ material wealth. In light of
Antisthenes’ failure to make any visible progress in educating Callias,
however, it is only natural that Socrates himself eventually steps forward
to instruct Callias.
The impetus for Socrates’ intervention in Callias’ instruction is his
relationship with Autolycus. Callias’ erotic attraction to Autolycus is
prominent from the start of the work (.) and is what inspires him to
hold a symposium in honor of Autolycus and his father after Autolycus’
victory in the pancratium (.). Although Callias is the erastēs of Auto-
lycus, the other symposiasts are also awestruck by his beauty (.–),
and erotic attraction crops up conspicuously in their conversation.
Critobulus, for example, asserts that he takes pride in his beauty since this
inspires his admirers to act virtuously (.), and he and the other
symposiasts speak of their erotic attractions (.–, –, –; cf.
.–). In light of all this, it comes as no surprise perhaps that Socrates
ultimately turns the conversation to the topic of erōs, and in particular to
Callias’ relationship with Autolycus (.–).
What is surprising in this erotically charged and playful environment,
however, is Socrates’ extended and serious (cf. ., .) instruction
of Callias concerning the constraints that should govern the relationship
between a lover and his beloved, and in particular his exhortation that
this relationship should ultimately benefit the city. Socrates, as we shall
see, insists that an erastēs should be in love with the soul of his eromenos
and not with his body; rather than pursue transient physical gratifica-
tion, which debases both lover and beloved, he should nurture an
enduring friendship (philia) with his beloved that is based on their
joint pursuit of excellence (aretē) and will benefit not only the two of
them but the entire city. What starts as instruction concerning how a
member of the elite should pursue his personal relationship with his
beloved thus becomes a lesson in how both lover and beloved can best
prepare themselves to achieve prominence in the city and to serve it
as leaders.


On Xenophon’s presentation of the spectacle of Autolycus’ beauty, see Wohl : –; Gilhuly
: –; and Baragwanath : –.

That erōs comes to the fore is also not surprising given its prominence in Plato’s Symposium, to
which Xenophon is likely responding in his Symposium. On erōs as a common sympotic theme, see
Wohl : .

Plato’s Socrates, by contrast, views the relationship of erastēs and eromenos as a stepping-stone to
pursuing knowledge of Beauty itself (Smp. a–a).
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
Although nothing in the Symposium fully prepares Xenophon’s reader
for its culmination in this Socratic lecture to Callias, Socrates’ interest in
elite philia and its role in inculcating virtue in the young crops up early in
the work. When Lycon asks where someone can attain gentlemanliness
(kalokagathia), Socrates quotes the poet Theognis (– West): “Good
men will teach you good things, but if you mix with base men, you will
lose even the sense you now have” (.). And after Lycon calls this to the
attention of his son, Socrates observes that Autolycus is already aware of
this, and apparently (there is a lacuna in the text) goes on to draw a
comparison: just as Autolycus, with his father’s assistance, has sought out
the company of those who could best help him to win the pancratium, so
too when it comes to learning about excellence, will he, with Lycon’s help,
seek out “the man who seems to him most proficient in that way of life and
will associate with him” (.). Although this could be construed as
advice to seek out a teacher like Socrates rather than the sophists with
whom Callias consorts (.), Socrates’ quotation from Theognis suggests
that he is thinking more broadly here about how young men may learn to
become good by associating with good men and shunning the company of
bad men. When Socrates later discourses on the proper relationship
between lover and beloved, which he insists should take the form of philia
and be founded on the shared pursuit of aretē, he elaborates on his earlier
observation that social relations are critical for producing virtue (.–).
When Socrates turns the conversation to the subject of erōs, he justifies
this on the grounds that he and his fellow symposiasts are all followers of
the god Eros, (.), but soon focuses in on the erotic relationship of Callias
and Autolycus:
But as for you, Callias, all the city knows you are in love with Autolycus and
so, I think, do a great many men from abroad. That is because you are both
sons of famous fathers and are yourselves in the public eye. So I have always
admired your nature (phusin), but all the more so now, when I see you are
in love with someone who does not revel in luxury (habrotēti) or grow
sissified in softness but shows the world physical strength and stamina, virile
courage and self-control (sōphrosunēn). Desire for such traits gives an insight
into the lover’s character (phuseōs). (.–)
This relationship is of particular interest, Socrates suggests, because it is
one of which the public at large is well aware since Callias and Autolycus
come from distinguished fathers and are themselves prominent.


On this as the likely gist of what is missing in the text, see Bowen : – and Huss :
–.
 Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician 
Although Callias’ wealth has been the marker of his elite status up to
this point in the Symposium, Socrates brings to the fore here another
attribute that sets some elite Athenians apart from average citizens, namely,
birth into a well-known family, and examines its implications in Callias’
case. On the one hand, Socrates acknowledges that descent from a distin-
guished father is something distinctive and positive in itself when he speaks
initially of his admiration for Callias’ innate nature (phusis). On the other
hand, he indicates that a good lineage does not necessarily make a man
virtuous when he looks to the qualities of the beloved Callias pursues for
evidence of his moral nature and character (phusis). Socrates returns to
this distinction later when he lauds Callias’ aristocratic lineage as an
Eupatrid, but observes that he and the city at large love men “who add
to a nature (phusei) already good a zealous desire for excellence (aretēs)”
(.–, quoted in full below).
Whether Callias, as a man of high birth, currently fulfills the potential of
his innate nature is doubtful to judge from not only Xenophon’s portrayal
of his arrogance concerning his wealth earlier in the Symposium but also
Socrates’ praise of Callias for his pursuit of a boy like Autolycus who
possesses so many moral virtues. Although Socrates asserts that this reflects
well on Callias’ own nature, Callias, unlike Autolycus, seems to revel in
luxury (habrotēti) (.–; cf. .–, ) and is hardly a paragon of
moderation (sōphrosunē) in his misplaced pride in his wealth (.–).
That there is more to Socrates’ praise of Callias than meets the eye
becomes explicit when he proceeds to distinguish between two kinds of
love, one for bodies, the other for “souls, philia, and fine deeds” (.; cf.
Pl. Smp. c–a), and to commend Callias for his embrace of the latter
sort of love:
I infer this from the gentlemanliness (kalokagathiai) of your beloved and
because I see that you include his father in your meetings with him. For the
lover who is a gentleman (kalos kagathos) does not conceal any of this from
his beloved’s father.” “By Hera,” said Hermogenes, “I admire you in many
ways, Socrates, but now more than ever, because in flattering Callias you are
in fact teaching him the sort of person he should be.” “True,” he replied;
“and to add to his pleasure, I wish to bear witness to him that love of the
soul is far superior to love of the body.” (.–)


Socrates is using phusis in two different senses in this passage, to refer first to a man’s inborn nature
and then his moral nature or character, which is acquired and requires education (cf. Mem.
..–).

On the negative perceptions of aristocratic habrosunē under the Athenian democracy, see Kurke
: –.
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
Hermogenes recognizes that Socrates, while appearing to praise Callias, is
in fact engaged in educating him, and seeking to ensure that he will remain
chaste in his courtship of his beloved, and Socrates, once Hermogenes has
exposed his real intentions, confirms this. Although Socrates proposes
that Callias’ inclusion of Autolycus’ father in their meetings is evidence
that he loves the boy’s soul rather than his body, Socrates is not entirely
confident that this is the case. Callias’ immoderation concerning his
wealth, his exaltation of material goods over those of the soul, and his
self-indulgent pursuit of pleasure in his luxurious lifestyle may all contrib-
ute to Socrates’ uneasiness concerning his intentions regarding Autolycus.
He sets out, therefore, to instruct Callias in detail concerning the sort of
relationship a lover should seek with his beloved.
In educating Callias, Socrates contrasts the baseness of love for the body
with the nobility of love for the soul. As Socrates presents it, a man who
cares only for a boy’s body will seek to seduce him in any way he can and
in so doing corrupt his soul (.; cf. Mem. ..–); the relationship is
one-sided and exploitative since the lover takes pleasure in sex with his
beloved while the boy feels no pleasure (.–); and the relationship is a
transient one that fails as soon as the boy’s beauty fades with age. In
sharp contrast to this, a man who is in love with a boy’s soul will not seek
to corrupt and debase him for momentary pleasure, but rather will
cultivate a philia that is grounded in a shared pursuit of excellence, that
is reciprocal rather than exploitative, and that will endure long after the
boy’s beauty is gone (.–, –, –; cf. Mem. ..). Socrates
memorably sums up the distinction through a comparison:
For it seems to me that the man who pays attention only to looks is like a
man renting a farm: his concern is not to increase its value but to gain from
it the biggest harvest he can. By contrast, the man whose goal is philia is
more like the owner of a farm: he draws whatever he can from every source
to enhance his beloved’s value. (.)


Hermogenes, as Callias’ half-brother (see Nails : –), may be especially attuned to his
foibles.

As far as Xenophon and his Socrates are concerned, the relationship of Autolycus and Callias is
chaste at least thus far. Xenophon, earlier in the Symposium, speaks of Callias as “inspired by a
moderate (sōphronos) Eros” (.), and his Socrates, in instructing Callias, takes for granted that he
has not yet succumbed to his lust for the boy. Not long after the literary date of the Symposium
(), the comic writer Eupolis portrays Callias in his Kolakes () as having squandered his estate
“in licentiousness” (T iii, with frs. – K.-A.) and refers to Autolycus in his Autolycus () as
Eutrēsios, “Well-penetrated” (fr.  K.-A.) (see Wohl : ). These comic claims need not be
true, but attest to the public scrutiny of the sexual behavior of the rich and famous (cf. Smp. .).

On the divergent views of Xenophon and his Socrates concerning pederastic sex, see Hindley ,
, and Lane Fox b: –, but cf. Danzig : –.
 Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician 
Whereas the lover of the body is exploitative and looks only to his own
short-term pleasure, the lover of the soul, who seeks friendship with his
beloved, invests in a long-term relationship that will benefit not only him
but his beloved.
Interestingly, Socrates’ instruction of Callias does not end with the
admonition to seek enduring philia with his beloved rather than a base
physical relationship, but proceeds to offer advice on how this philia can
provide the basis for success in public life for both lover and beloved.
Socrates suggests that the mutual pursuit of excellence through philia
should manifest itself not only in the personal behavior of lover and
beloved (.–) but also in their pursuit of leadership roles within the
city as is natural for members of the elite who are prominent and ambi-
tious (.–). And just as Callias should take the lead in teaching his
beloved how to speak and act (.) and in modeling for him how to be
virtuous (.), so too should he facilitate Autolycus’ future public career
by himself pursuing one and gaining knowledge he can share with Auto-
lycus concerning this (.–).
Socrates shifts his instruction of Callias from the personal to the political
by pointing to the likelihood that Autolycus will one day seek glory
through success not just in athletics but in public life, and suggesting that
Callias would do well to make himself a worthy partner in this:
In your case, Callias, I think the gods deserve your thanks for inspiring you
with love for Autolycus. It is obvious that he is ambitious for honor
(philotimos), inasmuch as he endures many toils and pains so as to be
proclaimed victor in the pancratium. Now if he were to believe that he is
going not merely to shed luster on himself and his father but also to acquire
through his manly excellence (di’ andragathian) the ability to serve his
friends and to exalt his country by setting up trophies of victory over its
enemies, and thus to draw the admiring glances of all and be famous among
both Greeks and barbarians, do you not suppose that he would esteem and
honor highly anyone he considered the best partner in furthering all this?
(.–)


Although scholars have rightly noted that the final scene of the Symposium (.–) in which the
symposiasts are aroused by the slaves’ performance of a drama depicting the erotic relations of
Dionysus and Ariadne presents a less idealized vision of erōs than the one Socrates presents, in my
view this does not necessarily cast doubt on “the truth of Socrates’ philosophy” (Wohl : ;
cf. Higgins : ; Baragwanath : –). Socrates offers a vision of erōs as it should be
between erastēs and eromenos; he acknowledges that erōs is a powerful attractive force (.–,
.–).

Wohl (: ) aptly describes this as “a civic-minded erōs”; cf. Higgins :  and Gilhuly
: .
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
Although Socrates stops short of asserting that Autolycus will abandon his
philia with Callias if he does not prove a useful partner in his future civic
life, he exposes Callias’ vulnerability if he does not emerge as the best
partner in this since Autolycus’ “esteem and honor” will go to whomever
he deems best at helping him achieve public prominence.
Having alerted Callias to the high stakes involved in his becoming a
worthy partner to Autolycus in his future public career, Socrates advises
Callias on what he must do to prepare himself to play this role:
So if you want to be in his good graces, you must try to find out what sort
of knowledge it was that enabled Themistocles to liberate Greece; you must
try to find out what kind of knowledge it was that got Pericles recognized as
his country’s best counselor; you must reflect, further, how it was that
Solon by deep thought established in his city the best laws; you must search
out what kind of practices they are that give the Spartans the reputation of
being preeminent commanders; for you are their proxenos, and their fore-
most citizens are always being entertained at your house. You may regard it
as certain, therefore, that our city would be quick to entrust itself to your
hands, if you so desire. You have all the advantages: you are of noble birth
(eupatridēs), of Erechtheus’ line, a priest serving the gods who under the
leadership of Iacchus took the field against the barbarian; and in today’s
festival you outshine your predecessors in the splendor of your priestly
office, and you possess a physique more impressive to the eye than any other
in the city and at the same time able to withstand effort and hardship. If
what I say strikes you as too earnest for a drinking party, even so, do not be
surprised: during practically all my life I have shared the city’s love for men
who add to a nature already good a zealous desire for excellence (aretēs).
(.–)
Notably, although Socrates begins this excursus to instruct Callias on how
he can remain pleasing to Autolycus as he matures and pursues his political
ambitions, he soon focuses instead on Callias and the leadership role in the
city that a man of his upbringing should seek (.).
While Socrates is relatively gentle in his instruction of Callias, there is an
edge to his exhortation to Callias to exert himself to gain knowledge of
political affairs and seek a position of political prominence within the city.
Socrates’ detailed directions to Callias concerning where he should seek
political knowledge highlight how ignorant he is currently of all facets of
political leadership. He has not given thought to how one might lead
successfully as a general, like Themistocles; how one might advise the
people effectively, like Pericles; or how one might frame the best laws for
the city, like Solon. In fact, although Callias serves as proxenos for the
Spartans and regularly entertains their most prominent citizens, he has not
 Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician 
bothered to inquire into what makes Spartans successful military leaders.
When Socrates observes, “You may regard it as certain, therefore, that our
city would be quick to entrust itself to your hands, if you so desire” (.),
it is clear that, up to this point, Callias has had no such desire and has not
sought the political knowledge that would enable him to be a leader in the
city. Socrates proceeds to make it clear that Callias has fallen short of the
expectations of a man of his standing. Although he enjoys many advan-
tages that would pave the way for him to serve as a civic leader – a
distinguished bloodline, a conspicuous priestship, and an impressive phy-
sique – he has not made the most of these. If Socrates, as he states, shares
the city’s love for men who are noble not just in birth but in character, he
can only be disappointed in Callias for his failure, as a man of noble
background, to pursue excellence ambitiously.
Socrates’ closing exchange with Callias reinforces the sense that Socrates
believes that he has failed to live up to his personal and political potential.
On the one hand, Callias rightly recognizes that Socrates is urging him to
enter politics. Invoking Socrates’ earlier description of himself as a procurer
because he seeks to render his interlocutors pleasing to the city (.),
Callias playfully asks him whether he is acting as procurer in encouraging
him to enter politics and “always be pleasing” to the city (.). Socrates’
reply is, by contrast, sober and monitory:
“Yes, by Zeus,” he said, “if they see that you’re cultivating excellence (aretēs)
not for show but for real. False reputation is soon exposed when tested,
whereas true manly excellence (andragathia), unless a god spikes it, confers
an ever more brilliant glory when put to the test of actual deeds.” (.)
In the course of the Symposium, Callias has provided no evidence that he is
truly committed to seeking excellence; as a student of the sophists, he has
learned nothing of real substance, and as a wealthy man, he values material
goods and the pleasure they bring over the wealth of the soul that Socrates
possesses and willingly shares with those around him (.). Since Callias’
political prospects in Athens are, according to Socrates, contingent on his
cultivating excellence “not for show but for real” (cf. Mem. ., ..;
Cyr. ..), one may doubt that he will fulfill the potential of a man of
his status to become a leader of the city.


Note how Socrates has exploited Callias’ desire to remain pleasing (areskein) to Autolycus (.), to
make him seek to be pleasing (arestos) to the city (.).

On this principle of good leadership, see Buxton : .

Callias appears to have had only a modest political career for a man of his standing: he served as
general in / (HG ..–) and as ambassador to Sparta in / and perhaps two earlier
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
Consistent with this critical portrayal of Callias is what follows imme-
diately on the conclusion of Socrates’ conversation with Callias. Autolycus’
father, Lycon, turns to Socrates and says, “So help me Hera, Socrates, you
seem to me a gentleman (kalos kagathos)” (.). Significantly, he bestows
this praise not on Autolycus’ lover, Callias, but on Socrates, who has taken
it on himself to show Callias how he can become a gentleman in the true
Socratic sense, and in so doing shows himself to be a true gentleman.
This label is justifiably withheld from Callias, who enjoys the superficial
attributes of a gentleman, as traditionally conceived, but fails to meet the
Socratic standard of what defines a true gentleman, namely, that one be a
virtuous man who benefits his friends and the city at large.

Although Callias posits near the beginning of the Symposium that he would
rather entertain Socrates and his companions than “generals, cavalry
commanders, and office seekers” (.), it turns out, as we have seen, that
Socrates endeavors to educate Callias precisely concerning the importance
of such leadership roles and exhorts him to prepare himself to assume
them. In doing so, Socrates plays a role that is very similar to the one
Xenophon attributes to him in the Memorabilia, namely, as an educator of
the city’s elite in their responsibility to lead the city and to do this ethically,
knowledgeably, and skillfully.
In the Memorabilia, Xenophon’s Socrates suggests that he plays a more
important part in the political life of the city by working “to turn out as
many competent politicians as possible” than by engaging in politics
directly himself (..), and Xenophon corroborates Socrates’

occasions (..–) (see Develin : , , , ). In introducing Callias’ speech at
Sparta in /, Xenophon scathingly characterizes Callias as “a man who delighted in being
praised no less by himself than by others” (..); this undercuts Callias’ claims in his speech
concerning his political experience and importance at .. (see Tuplin : –, contra Gray
:  n. ) and is consistent with Xenophon’s depiction of Callias’ arrogance in the Symposium.

In putting praise of Socrates in the mouth of Lycon, who later served as one of his prosecutors (see
Huss :  n. ), Xenophon advances his apologia for Socrates as a man of high values who
was innocent of the charges brought against him (cf. Wohl : ). We need not take this as
evidence, as Huss (: –) does, that Xenophon had come to forgive Lycon for his role in
Socrates’ conviction and execution by the time he wrote the Symposium.

Pace Danzig (: ), who posits that Callias is not portrayed as less than a kalos kagathos.
Callias falls well short of Socrates’ standard for kalokagathia, and his claim to be a teacher of
kalokagathia (.) is shown to be laughable (.–).

Niceratus emerges briefly as a potential rival to Socrates as an educator of men in political leadership
when he asserts that because of his knowledge of Homer he can instruct his associates concerning
“the art of the estate manager, the political leader, or the general” (.), but his ensuing discourse on
onions as a relish to drinking, which draws on Homer, falls far short of justifying this claim (.–)
(cf. Hobden : –).
 Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician 
commitment to this by portraying in detail his efforts to transform his
various elite interlocutors into men who are worthy of leading the city.
Xenophon does not claim that Socrates was completely successful in this
educational enterprise – some of his elite interlocutors, like Glaucon, seem
hopelessly obtuse, and others, like Critias and Alcibiades, deviate from
Socrates’ teachings once they stop associating with him (.., –) –
but extols him as an indefatigable servant of the city in his pursuit of
this mission.
The Symposium likewise portrays Socrates as committed to educating
the elite for political life, but shows him pursuing this enterprise even in
the midst of the joking, banter, and entertainment of an elite sympo-
sium. Callias, however, is a challenging subject for Socratic education
and transformation. Whereas Socrates’ elite interlocutors in the Memo-
rabilia are, for the most part, men who ambitiously seek to lead the city
but are ill-prepared to do so, Callias appears to lack the basic ambition
that a man of his status should have and has done nothing substantial to
prepare himself to become a man of prominence and political influence
in the city. Socrates, who is always prepared to adapt his approach to the
particular circumstances of his interlocutors (cf. Mem. ..), shrewdly
exploits Callias’ love for Autolycus to prod him to seek to make himself
fit to lead the city. Although one may wonder whether Socrates could
possibly succeed in transforming Callias into a civic leader, Xenophon’s
point, as in the Memorabilia, appears to be that Socrates served the city
by fully exerting himself, no matter what the venue or who the interloc-
utor, to produce as many competent politicians as possible from the
ranks of the elite.
An important facet of Socrates’ educational program in the Symposium,
as in the Memorabilia, is to call into question conventional elite assump-
tions concerning what constitutes gentlemanliness (kalokagathia) and to
insist on defining this in moral and political terms rather than social
ones. A true gentleman, according to Socrates, seeks through education
to acquire the values, knowledge, and skills that will enable him to benefit
his friends and his city. Although wealth and high birth present elite
Athenians with exceptional opportunities to achieve prominence and
political influence in the city, they do not automatically make them true
gentlemen who can lead the city well; in fact, these elite attributes can
make men arrogant and hinder their pursuit of an education that will make


On the Symposium’s exploration of kalokagathia and other topics that are prominent in the
Memorabilia and Oeconomicus, see Hobden :  and  n. .
 The Education of Callias in the Symposium
them good leaders for the city. In the Memorabilia, Xenophon portrays
Socrates as a sharp critic of elite Athenians who eschew education because
their wealth and high birth give them an exaggerated view of their own
merits (..–). Socrates admonishes such men that “only a simpleton
can think that by his wealth alone without knowledge he will be reputed
good at something or will enjoy a good reputation without being reputed
good at anything in particular” (..) and insists that “the natures that
seem to be best (aristoi)” especially stand in need of education (..) to
ensure that they become the sort of men who will do great good rather
than great evil (..). The Symposium’s Callias comes under fire on both
counts: he is grossly misled by his assumption that his wealth can buy him
a good education and even enable him to improve other men, and, as
Socrates implies, he fails to “add to a nature already good a zealous desire
for excellence” (.). In both works, Socrates, who teaches elite Athenians
that wealth and high birth do not make them true gentlemen, emerges
himself as a gentleman in the true sense of the word, who seeks to help his
city by educating its future leaders in what gentlemanliness, properly
understood, entails.
Although Xenophon’s Socrates seeks to persuade his interlocutors as
individuals to seek out an education that will make them worthy to lead
the democratic city, in the Symposium, as in the Memorabilia, he envisions
philia among members of the elite as essential to their success in political
life. In the Memorabilia, Socrates discourses at length on how elite Athe-
nians should seek out as friends real gentlemen, that is, men of virtue and
knowledge, who will collaborate with and support them in achieving their
political goals within the city (..–); he advises Critobulus that the
best way to do this is first to strive to become a truly good man (..,
..) and then to seek out gentlemen like himself as friends (..). In
the Symposium, Socrates offers similar advice, but adapts this to Callias’
immediate circumstances: rather than seek to gratify his sexual desires
through Autolycus, Callias should cultivate a philia with him that is based
on their mutual pursuit of excellence and that will naturally culminate in
their joint pursuit, as men of status, of political influence in the city, with
Callias as the elder of the two leading the way by gaining political
knowledge and experience and sharing what he learns with Autolycus. In
each case, Socrates conceptualizes elite philia as something that should
benefit not only the individuals joined by it but the city at large.
Juxtaposing the Symposium with the Memorabilia in this way helps to
clarify its political dimensions and in particular its interest in the civic roles
that elite citizens should play within the democratic city and how they
 Callias as Aristocrat, Lover, and Politician 
should prepare themselves to assume these. If Xenophon wrote his Sym-
posium under the influence of, and in rivalry with, Plato’s Symposium, his
work diverges substantially from its predecessor in its strong interest in
politics. Although civic life crops up in the exchanges among Plato’s
symposiasts (a–, e–c), the centerpiece of his symposium is
Socrates’ exposition of philosophical theory (e–c). By contrast,
Xenophon’s Symposium culminates in Socrates making a case for elite
engagement in the political life of the city and for the deployment of elite
philia in service of this.
That Xenophon portrays Socrates as an educator of the city’s elite
concerning their political place in the democratic city in the Symposium,
as elsewhere, attests to his vision of Socrates as a pragmatic and patriotic
individual who sought to make the elite useful to the city and his desire for
future generations to remember Socrates as such a person rather than as an
enemy of the city as his prosecutors had represented him in his impiety
trial. Xenophon, however, manifestly approves not only of Socrates but of
his message for the city’s elite, and himself promulgates this to his own
contemporary elite reading audience. In so doing, Xenophon emerges as
Socrates’ heir in seeking to educate the city’s elite and transform them into
real gentlemen and good citizens in the democracy. Xenophon’s role as
educator of elite Athenians is even more conspicuous, as we shall see, in his
Hipparchicus and Poroi.
  

Xenophon as Expert, Advisor, and Reformer

in the Hipparchicus and Poroi

If Xenophon in his Socratic works brings Socrates’ conversations before his

elite Athenian readers to encourage them to strive to become capable
leaders of the democracy, he takes a more direct approach to this in his
Hipparchicus (On the Cavalry Commander) and his Poroi (Ways and
Means), addressing them in his own voice and advising them on how they
can succeed in specific leadership roles in Athens. In Hipparchicus, Xeno-
phon sketches out how a cavalry commander (hipparch) can best carry out
his service to the city, and in his Poroi, he sets forth for his elite readers, as
actual or potential advisors of the Athenian people (dēmos), far-ranging
reforms to pursue so as to transform the city’s financial situation. Xeno-
phon emerges in these two works as a promoter, like his Socrates, of
engaged, capable, and responsible leadership on the part of the city’s elite,
and simultaneously as an expert who is able to provide detailed advice to
the Athenian elite on how to excel in particular spheres of civic leadership.
In both Hipparchicus and Poroi, Xenophon suggests that while elite
leaders must work within existing democratic institutions to achieve their
ends, they should strive to improve these where needed. In the Hipparchicus,
Xenophon’s model cavalry commander is careful to carry out his duties in
accordance with current rules and regulations, but this does not stop him
from seeking to modify these to improve the city’s cavalry. In the Poroi,
Xenophon provides his elite readers with a program of reforms to pursue
through the Assembly so as to dramatically increase the city’s financial
resources and improve the situation for Athenians within their city and in
their relations with other Greek states. Although these reforms will modify
the democracy’s existing arrangements, including the role of the wealthy as


The Poroi can be securely dated to / (see Bloch ) and is commonly assumed to be
Xenophon’s latest work; the Hipparchicus is more difficult to date, but may have been written in
the s (Dillery : ) or perhaps in the early s (Delebecque : –).

On Xenophon’s emulation of Socrates as political advisor in these works, see Gray : .


 Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
civic benefactors, Xenophon suggests that they are warranted by the benefits
they will bring to all citizens. In each work, Xenophon suggests that good
citizenship on the part of the elite entails not simply embracing democratic
institutions but working to make them better.
This chapter considers first Xenophon’s advice in the Hipparchicus con-
cerning how a cavalry commander can best carry out his duties, with
particular attention to the strategies that he recommends a hipparch employ
to deal with the social and political challenges that he faces as an elite leader
in a democratic setting. It then examines Xenophon’s advice in the Poroi to
his elite readers, as current or potential advisors of the Athenian people,
concerning how to improve the city’s finances, and argues that Xenophon
not only furnishes his readers with an agenda to pursue but also models for
them how a democratic orator (rhētōr) could make a compelling case to
persuade the Athenian Assembly to approve this.

Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader

Although scholars have often culled Xenophon’s Hipparchicus for informa-
tion concerning the Athenian cavalry and its working, they have devoted
relatively little attention to it in its own right or in relation to Xenophon’s
broader corpus. This may be due to its specialized nature and the fact that,
as Christopher Tuplin (: ) observes, its “[t]reatment of topics is
inexhaustive, unsystematic and inclined to repetition.” If the Hipparchicus
lacks polish, however, it deserves close attention as an intriguing case study
in elite leadership within the Athenian democracy that explores with some
subtlety and nuance the social and political challenges facing a hipparch in
Athens and offers possible solutions to these.
To understand the place of the Hipparchicus within Xenophon’s corpus,
it is important to appreciate first its close connection with some of his
other works. Most obviously, it forms a pair with On Horsemanship (Peri
Hippikēs), which outlines how to purchase, care for, and train horses for
use in the city’s cavalry. At the end of On Horsemanship, Xenophon


See Bugh ; Spence ; Worley ; Pritchard .

Although scholars discussing Xenophon’s interest in ideal leadership across his corpus cite the
Hipparchicus (see Gray b: – and Buxton : –), they have not sought out in detail
its Athenian implications.

On this pair of works, see Althoff  and Blaineau . Xenophon’s writings on the cavalry
reflect his own extensive personal experience as a cavalryman (Eq. .; cf. Eq. Mag. .); he likely
served in the Athenian cavalry as a young man and perhaps was a cavalryman under the Thirty: see
the Introduction.
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
alludes to his Hipparchicus as an earlier work, and distinguishes between
the two technical treatises by characterizing Hipparchicus as a work
intended for the cavalry commander, and On Horsemanship as one for
the common cavalryman (idiotēs) (.). Nonetheless, there is overlap
between the two works; for example, both emphasize the importance of
the appearance of the cavalry and the impact this has on those who view it
(Eq. ; Eq. Mag. ).
The Hipparchicus also overlaps with the Memorabilia, which, as we have
seen, devotes a chapter to the question of how a hipparch may best carry
out his role as leader (.). Socrates, in his conversation with a young man
who has been elected to the office of hipparch, exposes how little his
interlocutor knows about how to carry out this office so as to improve the
horses and their riders and offers him some tips on how to train the
cavalrymen, win their willing obedience, and inspire them to pursue honor
zealously. The Hipparchicus embraces the general principles that Socrates
sets forth briefly in the Memorabilia concerning the office of hipparch but
looks more closely at the political and social milieu in which a hipparch
operates and elaborates on how he can succeed in this context.
If Xenophon’s Hipparchicus fleshes out some of the principles advanced
in the Memorabilia, it does so in a distinctive generic format as a manual or
handbook that seeks to instruct its reader on a particular area of exper-
tise. Like Xenophon’s On Horsemanship and On Hunting (Cynegeticus),
the Hipparchicus presents itself as a “how-to guide” for readers who seek to
improve their ability to succeed in a particular area of activity. Whereas the
Memorabilia educates its readers in large part by bringing before them a
series of conversations between Socrates and his elite interlocutors, the
Hipparchicus takes the form of a sort of direct conversation between
Xenophon and his elite readers – albeit a one-sided one – in which
Xenophon speaks in the first-person singular and addresses his readers in


For idiotēs in this specialized sense, see Eq. Mag. .; cf. An. .. and Oec. ., where it is used
of private soldiers as opposed to their generals. Xenophon thus is not addressing private persons or
amateurs in general in On Horsemanship, as Tuplin (: ; cf. Delebecque : ) suggests,
but rather individuals who will serve as common cavalrymen (., ., ., ., ., and .).

On the parallels between Mem. . and the Hipparchicus, see Dorion and Bandini a: –
and Blaineau : .

Gray (: ) observes that in his Hipparchicus, “[Xenophon] plays the role of Socrates, who is
also found in Memorabilia advising those recently elected to cavalry command (.)”; cf. Dorion
and Bandini a: .

I see Xenophon’s advice as acutely attuned to the political and social milieu in which an Athenian
hipparch operates, and not as “‘aspirational,’ even utopian” (Dillery : –).

On the Hipparchicus as manual or handbook, see Dillery : –.
 Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
the second-person singular. Consistent with this, although Xenophon
references the written nature of his work (., ., ., .), he also
characterizes his communication with his reader in terms equally appro-
priate to oral discourse.
Although the Hipparchicus seeks to instruct its readers and advise them
on how to succeed as hipparchs, Xenophon acknowledges that his treatise
has certain limitations. For example, he observes that his treatment of the
subject is necessarily abbreviated and that he provides notes (hupomnē-
mata) to his readers rather than an exhaustive analysis (.). And at one
point, he allows that it can be difficult to get men to take to heart advice
that they know to be good (.; cf. Oec. .–). Most importantly,
however, he insists that there are certain things that lie beyond human
control, so a hipparch should always seek the goodwill and guidance of the
gods. The treatise begins by emphasizing the importance of the goodwill of
the gods (.) and ends, after offering extensive advice, with the exhorta-
tion that the reader should ultimately seek out the advice of the gods
(.–; cf. Vect. .–).
Notwithstanding these caveats and pious deference to the gods, Xeno-
phon exudes confidence as he offers his elite readers detailed advice
concerning not only the basic duties of a hipparch but also the strategies
that he should adopt to carry these out most successfully. Xenophon’s ideal
hipparch is a self-conscious political actor who behaves with subtlety and
sometimes subterfuge in his relations with the different parties with whom
he must engage, from individuals to the Athenian Council and the public
at large. His intelligent execution of his duties entails, moreover, not only
working within the current democratic rules and regulations that govern
the cavalry but also striving to modify these where they can be improved.

In discussing the role of the hipparch, Xenophon takes for granted that his
elite Athenian reader is already familiar with the democratic institutions
governing the cavalry. Athenians elected two hipparchs at large to lead the
cavalry and one officer known as a phylarch from each of the ten tribes to
lead the tribal regiments of the cavalry; each hipparch was in charge of five
tribal regiments and their respective phylarchs ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. .–).


Cf. Dorion and Bandini a: . Tuplin (: ) suggests that this use of persons in the
Hipparchicus creates a certain distance between Xenophon and his reader; by contrast, Xenophon
often uses the first-person plural in the Poroi (–).

Note Xenophon’s use of legō and phēmi, for example, at ., ., ., ., ., .–, ., and
..

On this framing of the work, see Flower : , , and Dillery : –.
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
Some , wealthy Athenians were conscripted to serve in the cavalry,
but the city provided them with a loan (katastasis) for the purchase of
horses and a stipend for feeding them, and reimbursed them for the
assessed value of a horse lost or injured in battle. The Council was in
charge of overseeing the cavalry, and carried out reviews (dokimasiai) of its
members and their mounts ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. .–). Although Xeno-
phon alludes to some of these practices in the Hipparchicus (., .–,
., .), his focus is on how a hipparch who has already been elected to
office can most effectively carry out his duties.
Xenophon’s ideal hipparch seeks to lead successfully so as to serve and
benefit the city and, in so doing, to benefit simultaneously himself and his
friends. At the opening of the Hipparchicus, Xenophon speaks of these
overlapping objectives:
The first duty is to sacrifice to the gods and ask them to grant you the
thoughts, words and deeds likely to render your command most pleasing to
the gods and to bring yourself, your friends, and your city the fullest
measure of affection and glory and advantage. (.)
If a hipparch is in a prominent position to help the city and at the same
time himself and his friends, those with whom he collaborates – both
common cavalrymen and phylarchs – likewise seek both to serve the city
and to win personal glory (., .–).
As Xenophon surveys the diverse tasks that a hipparch must carry out in
recruiting and training the cavalry and leading it on campaign, he empha-
sizes throughout how the hipparch’s relationships with a range of parties
will determine his success as a cavalry commander and offers advice
therefore on how to nurture, control, and sometimes manipulate these
relationships. Let us consider how Xenophon recommends that a hipparch
manage his relationships with recruits for the cavalry, with cavalrymen of
different ranks, and with the Council and the public at large.
A noteworthy feature of Xenophon’s advice is his sensitivity to the fact
that the hipparch, who is himself a member of the city’s elite, must deal
effectively with other members of the elite who make up the cavalry
(cf. Eq. .). This is especially evident in Xenophon’s discussion of how a
hipparch should actively recruit those who are sufficiently wealthy and
physically able to serve so as to keep the numbers of the cavalry at the level
required by law since otherwise “the number will constantly dwindle, for


See Bugh : –, –; Spence : ; Worley : –; Pritchard .

For the compatibility of public service and the pursuit of self-interest in Xenophon, see Chapter ,
note .
 Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
some men are bound to retire through old age and others to drop off for
various reasons” (.). The challenge for the hipparch is how to recruit
successfully in the face of resistance from individuals who may be concerned
about the expense of cavalry service and its demands on their time, and the
manifest risks of active duty; as Xenophon observes, some men are so averse
to service in the cavalry that they are willing to pay not to serve (.).
As a solution to this problem, Xenophon proposes that the hipparch act
strategically to induce men to serve:
As for the cavalrymen, you must obviously raise them as required by the
law, from those who are most qualified by wealth and bodily strength,
either by taking them to court or by persuading them. The men who should
be brought to court, I think, are those who otherwise might be suspected of
having bribed you not to take them to court. For men who are less able to
serve will at once have a ground for escaping, if you fail to compel first the
most highly qualified to serve. I think, too, that by dwelling on the
brilliance of horsemanship, you might make some of the young men desire
to serve in the cavalry, and that you might overcome the opposition of their
guardians by pointing out that they will be compelled on account of their
wealth to maintain a horse in the cavalry by someone else, if not by you;
whereas, if their boys join up during your command, you will put an end to
their extravagance and madness in buying horses, and ensure that they soon
become expert horsemen. And you must try to suit your actions to
your words. (.–)
In the two recruiting situations envisioned here, the hipparch makes good
use of both compulsion and persuasion.
In the first scenario that he considers, Xenophon proposes that as a
general rule it is expedient for the hipparch to approach those who are
most wealthy and capable of serving and, if they cannot be persuaded to
join the cavalry, to bring them to court to compel them to serve. This


As Bugh (: –) observes, it does not appear that the system of elected enrollers (katalogeis)
described in [Arist.] Ath. Pol. . was in place when Xenophon wrote this. On the grounds for
exemption from cavalry service, see ibid. , –.

Xenophon seems to be referring in . to attempts to bribe the hipparchs as they recruit cavalrymen
(cf. .; Delebecque : ). Although .– may indicate that Athens was experiencing
difficulties in recruiting a sufficient number of cavalrymen at the time that Xenophon wrote
Hipparchicus (thus Bugh :  and Spence : –), evasion of cavalry service was
probably common in all periods to judge from the better attested phenomenon of evasion of
hoplite service (see Christ : –).

It is not clear to what legal action a hipparch would have recourse in this context. An individual who
evaded hoplite service could be charged with astrateia for failure to go on a campaign, but this was
only after the campaign was concluded (see Christ : –); Xenophon seems to envision a
legal procedure by which a hipparch could compel an individual to join the cavalry in advance of
any campaign.
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
has two advantages: this dispels any suspicion that the hipparch has been
bribed to pass over such a person – which could expose the hipparch
himself to prosecution – and makes it easier to persuade less wealthy or
physically able men to serve since they cannot object that more qualified
recruits have been passed over. Notably, Xenophon’s hipparch is not
only adept at using the democratic courts to force men of his class to
serve but also shrewdly knows how to exploit the spectacle of a public
trial of a very wealthy recruit to induce less wealthy men to acquiesce and
serve in the cavalry without requiring similar compulsion; elsewhere too, as
we shall see, Xenophon’s hipparch gains his ends by staging compelling
spectacles.
The second scenario that Xenophon envisions involves recruiting
young men through appeals that are adapted to persuade both them
and their guardians. To win over the young men, the hipparch should
seek to rouse them up to serve by emphasizing the “brilliance” of cavalry
service. And to overcome the resistance of their guardians, the hipparch
should remind them that the young men can be compelled to serve if
necessary and that the household will benefit from the enrollment of the
young man in the cavalry since it will be spared his extravagant expen-
ditures on horses and he will gain skills as a rider. As a member of the
elite himself, the hipparch is familiar with how expensive it is to keep
horses and knows that young men may consume substantial family assets
on this, and can use this knowledge to persuade his wealthy peers to
allow their sons and wards to join the cavalry.
Although Xenophon is clearly attuned to the experience and psychology
of elite Athenians in offering this advice on how to recruit members of the
elite for the cavalry, his recommendation of a mixture of persuasion and
compulsion in recruitment is consistent with Athenian democratic practice
in connection with the conscription of hoplites. The city charged its
generals with recruiting hoplites, and expected them to fill the ranks
through a combination of persuasion and compulsion. This balance was
in keeping with the high premium the democracy placed on persuading


Wealthy Athenians were highly attuned to each other’s level of wealth and ability to carry out public
service, as is evident from their use of the antidosis procedure to transfer their obligations to carry
out liturgies to individuals whom they believed were wealthier than themselves (see Christ  and
: –, –).

Xenophon’s hipparch is also ready to wield the democratic Council against the cavalrymen serving
under him so as to ensure that they serve well (., discussed below in the text).

On spectacle in Xenophon, see Baragwanath : –.

On horse-keeping as an expensive pastime, see Spence : –, with ancient citations.
 Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
rather than forcing its citizens to embrace service to the city and with the
practical need of being able to compel reluctant hoplites if necessary.
Xenophon appears to embrace this democratic model in his advice on how
conscription should be carried out for members of the cavalry: only when
persuasion fails should the hipparch have recourse to compulsion.
To lead the cavalry effectively, the hipparch must also carefully culti-
vate and control his relationship with his subordinates, both officers and
average cavalrymen. Although he holds a position of authority over the
phylarchs under his command (.–) and, in keeping with this, should
stand out from them in public displays by the cavalry (.), his success
depends on their collaboration and assistance as coworkers (sunergoi)
(.; cf. .). The hipparch, therefore, should do his best to induce
them to share his eagerness for the success of the cavalry (.) and to
pursue honor by leading their regiments well (.). Persuasion is
central to winning their full support, for example, in arming those under
them: the hipparch must seek to persuade the phylarchs that “from the
point of view of the state the brilliance of the regiment is a far more
glorious ornament to them than the brightness of their own accoutre-
ments only” (.). Nonetheless, compulsion plays a role in the relation
of hipparch to his phylarchs (.), just as it does in the relation of
phylarch to the cavalrymen under him (.).
Xenophon is more expansive in treating how the hipparch can best
foster his relationship with the cavalrymen at large. Many of the same
basic principles that ought to guide the hipparch in his relationship with
his phylarchs should inform his relationship with the cavalrymen at large.
Thus, for example, the hipparch should regard the cavalrymen, like the
phylarchs, as his “coworkers” (.) and treat them accordingly (cf. .);
and, as with the phylarchs, persuasion is an important tool in winning
their willing obedience (., .; cf. X. Mem. ..–). In speaking
of the hipparch’s relationship with the cavalrymen, however, Xenophon
also stresses how important it is for the hipparch to project an image as
leader that will win the respect, loyalty, and willing obedience of his
subordinates:


See Christ : –, –.

Xenophon is surprisingly silent concerning a hipparch’s relationship with his fellow hipparch and
the need for collaboration and cooperation between the two hipparchs to lead the cavalry
successfully (cf. Tuplin : ).

On the importance of leaders treating those under them as sunergoi, see also Oec. .–; An.
..–; Cyr. ...

On the prominence of philotimia in the Hipparchicus, see Keim .
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
However, no craftsman can mold anything such as he wishes unless the
stuff in which he proposes to work lies ready to obey his will. No more can
you make anything of men, unless, with the god’s help, they are ready to
regard their leader with friendly feelings and to think him more knowl-
edgeable than themselves in conducting operations against the enemy. Now
the men will feel goodwill toward their leader when he is considerate toward
them, and manifestly takes care that they have food, and that they are safe
in retreat and well protected when at rest. When they are on garrison he
must show that he is concerned about fodder for the horses, tents, water,
firewood, and all other supplies, and that he thinks ahead and keeps his eyes
open for the sake of his men. And when the leader obtains good things, it is
advantageous for him to share these with his men. To put it briefly, a leader
is least likely to incur the contempt of his men if he shows himself more
capable than they of doing whatever he requires of them. He must therefore
practice every detail of horsemanship – mounting and the rest – so that they
can see their leader on horseback is able to clear a ditch, pass over a wall,
leap down from a bank, and throw a javelin competently. All these things
improve his chances of avoiding their contempt. If they recognize that he is
also a master of tactics and able to deploy them so that they can get the
better of the enemy; and if besides, they are certain that he will never lead
them against an enemy recklessly or without the gods’ approval or in
defiance of the sacrifices, all this helps to make the men more ready to
obey their leader. (.–)
Xenophon suggests that if the hipparch is a craftsman seeking to mold the
cavalrymen to obey his will (.), to achieve this he must self-consciously
mold himself and project an image of his concern for his subordinates and
of his own competence as cavalryman and hipparch. Once again Xeno-
phon emphasizes that the hipparch must control appearances so as to
achieve his objectives (cf. .–).
A successful hipparch, according to Xenophon, must carefully manage
his relationship not only with his subordinates in the cavalry but also with
the city’s Council, which oversees the cavalry. Thus, for example, Xeno-
phon shrewdly advises: “You should in my view have suitable speakers
(rhētores) in the Council, so that their speeches may instill fear in the
cavalrymen – they will do better under the influence of fear – and may also
appease the Council, in case it shows anger at an inopportune time” (.).
Strikingly, Xenophon proposes that a hipparch should be sure to have
skilled speakers in the Council whose speeches will not only help induce


Cf. Buxton : : “Ironically, therefore, in order to make his men pliable material for his own
goals, the commander must convince them that he is the one who is working hardest and smartest
for their interests.”
 Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
the cavalrymen under him to behave properly but also prevent the Council
from acting out of anger toward the cavalry or its leadership. The fact that
Xenophon’s hipparch is to use an agent in the Council to evoke fear
among the cavalry suggests that his need to control the cavalry justifies a
degree of manipulation of them. Xenophon’s advice that the hipparch can
use these same agents to appease the Council when this is needed reflects
an awareness that the hipparch plays a political role and must be adept at
achieving his ends through the city’s governing institutions.
If the hipparch can sway the Council through the speeches of his agent,
he can also shape its perceptions of the cavalry and those of the public at
large through his careful design and presentation of the processions and
review exercises in which the cavalry participates: “He must make the
processions (pompai) during the festivals worth seeing; further, he must
conduct all the other obligatory displays before the people with as much
splendor as possible, that is to say, the reviews in the Academy, in the
Lyceum, at Phalerum, and in the Hippodrome” (.). Xenophon sets out
(.–) how the hipparch can please “gods and men alike” (., ) in a
religious procession, by having the cavalry first make a circuit of the Agora
that pays homage to the gods at their shrines and statues, and then display
their martial skills – by galloping at top speed to the Eleusinium with
spears straight forward so that these “look fearsome, stand out distinctly
and at the same time convey the impression of numbers,” and then
returning at a slow pace to where they started (.). He proceeds to
delineate how in formal reviews before the public and the Council in the
Lyceum, Hippodrome, and Academy, the hipparch should conspicuously
display the cavalry’s skill and splendor. Thus, for example, Xenophon
describes how the hipparch should arrange a sham fight (anthippasia) in
the Hippodrome that involves the entire cavalry divided into two groups:
Imagine the spectacle: how formidable they will look when they charge
toward each other; how imposing when, after sweeping across the Hippo-
drome, they stand facing one another again; how splendid, when the
trumpet sounds and they charge once more at a quicker pace! (.)


In the Anabasis, Xenophon portrays himself as general shrewdly using an agent to win over the
soldiers in assembly (.., ..).

Kavoulaki () discusses the important role of processions within the Athenian democracy; she
rightly emphasizes their significance as “viewing occasions” and “spectacles” ().

Although many scholars assume that Xenophon is describing current practices (Bugh : ;
Spence : ; Worley : –), he characterizes as innovative his recommendations for
cavalry processions (.) and reviews (.); Dillery (: ) suggests that the innovation lies in
“their imitation of real combat.”
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
Although the hipparch in these various cavalry reviews seeks to impress all
the spectators (cf. .), he is conscious that the “eyes of the Council”
(.) in particular will be on the exercises since it oversees and inspects
the cavalry.
As planner and executor of these cavalry reviews, Xenophon’s hipparch
emerges as a showman of sorts who seeks to entertain the public at large
and the Council, while simultaneously meeting the review standards of the
latter. To succeed, he must know how to manipulate appearances and
create illusions, showing off the cavalry’s brilliance by simulating battle-
field charges and fighting within the safe confines of the city. For the
review in the Hippodrome, Xenophon proposes a heightening of dramatic
effect: the cavalry should enter and “drive out the people standing there”
(.), thereby making some members of the public unwitting players in
these war games. Elsewhere, Xenophon depicts leaders in other consti-
tutional settings making effective use of spectacle to impress and manip-
ulate audiences; Xenophon’s Cyrus the Great, for example, is a master of
using spectacle to convey his power and authority to his subjects (Cyr.
..–). Spectacle, Xenophon suggests, also has its place within a
democratic society as an instrument through which a hipparch can sway
the public and achieve his ends as a leader.
Just as the cavalry’s exercises at home prepare it for the battlefield, so too
the hipparch’s mastery of showmanship and spectacle at home serves him
on campaign, where the manipulation of appearances, taken a step beyond
its use at home, is critical to winning victory over enemy forces. As
Xenophon observes, “there is really nothing more profitable in war than
deception” (.), and “on thinking over the successes gained in war you
will find that most of them, and these the greatest, have been won with the
aid of deception” (.). Although deception in war can take many
forms, it entails fundamentally tricking the enemy through the creation
of illusions. Thus, for example, it may prove expedient for a cavalry


These mass exercises are part of the formal dokimasiai of the cavalry for which the Council is
responsible: see Kroll : – and Bugh : –; cf. Rhodes : –.

Cf. An. ..–.

On Cyr. ..– and Cyrus’ use of a ceremonial military procession to legitimize his rule, see
Dillery : –. Xenophon’s Agesilaus also makes effective use of spectacle: see HG
..– = Ages. .–, with ibid. –.

Cf. Due :  and Azoulay b: .

Cf. Socrates’ endorsement of a general’s use of trickery in war (Mem. ..–). On the moral
distinction that Xenophon draws between deceiving enemies and friends, see Cyr. ..–, with
Hesk : –.
 Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
commander to make his force look larger or smaller than it actually is so as
to gain an advantage over the enemy (., .–). The hipparch’s experi-
ence in shaping the public’s perceptions of the size and grandeur of the
cavalry force at home (., .–) thus turns out to bear directly on his
success in leading it against hostile forces.

This survey suggests that Xenophon envisions his hipparch as an astute

political actor who works within democratic rules and parameters to
improve the cavalry. The hipparch carries out his duties from recruitment
to the conduct of cavalry reviews before the Council in a way that shows he
is mindful of what the city expects and its laws require. Xenophon,
however, makes it clear that the hipparch has considerable discretion,
working within these parameters, to implement intelligent and canny
practices that will make the cavalry better than it might otherwise be.
He encourages the hipparch to be an innovator, who seeks to improve
current practices, and asserts that in earlier times this is precisely what the
city’s hipparchs did (.).
Interestingly, Xenophon suggests that an ideal hipparch will seek to
improve the cavalry not only by exercising his discretion thoughtfully
within the framework of current regulations but also by working to reform
these. That the hipparch should not simply accept current arrangements as
fixed is evident, for example, when Xenophon suggests that the Council
should raise the standard for the horses inspected through examinations
known as dokimasiai:
As for the existing cavalrymen, I think that the Council should give notice
that in future double the amount of riding exercise will be required, and
that any horse unable to keep up will be rejected. This would force the men
to feed their horses better and take more care of them. I think it would be
good also if notice were given that vicious horses will be rejected. For this
threat would encourage the men to break in such horses more thoroughly
and to be more careful in buying them. Again, it would be well to give
notice that horses found kicking at exercise will be rejected. For it is
impossible even to keep such animals in line; in a charge against an enemy
they are bound to lag behind, and consequently because of the bad behavior
of his horse, the man himself becomes useless. (.–)
While Xenophon in his role as expert advisor proposes these as desirable
reforms to inspection standards, the potential hipparch whom his treatise
addresses stands in a position to implement these, either by addressing the
Council in his own person or through one of the spokesmen that Xeno-
phon recommends a hipparch should have in the Council (.).
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
So too, when Xenophon advances a more ambitious reform of the
cavalry that will alter its composition, his model hipparch is the presumed
agent who will be in a position to work for its passage through the
Assembly:
I am convinced that the full complement of a thousand cavalry would be
raised much more quickly and easily for the citizens, if they established a
force of two hundred foreign mercenary cavalry. For I think that the
presence of these men would improve the discipline of the whole force
and promote rivalry between the Athenians and non-Athenians in the
display of manly virtue. I know that the fame of the Lacedaemonian cavalry
dates from when they introduced foreign cavalry; and in the other states
everywhere I notice that the foreign units enjoy a high reputation since
need helps to produce great eagerness in them. To defray the cost of their
horses, I believe that money would be forthcoming from those who strongly
object to serve in the cavalry – since even men actually enrolled are willing
to pay in order to get out of the service – from rich men who are
physically unfit, and also, I think, from orphans who possess large estates.
I believe also that some of the resident aliens would be proud to be enrolled
in the cavalry. For I notice that whenever the citizens give them a share in
any other honorable duty, some willingly do the part assigned to them and
take pride in this. (.–)
Although Xenophon is vague concerning how the hipparch should bring
about this reform, his recommendation that “they,” that is, the Athenian
people, establish a foreign cavalry force suggests that the hipparch will need
to win the assent of the dēmos in Assembly since they could implement this
reform by a decree. Because of his intimate familiarity with the chal-
lenges of recruiting (.–), the hipparch would be a natural and persua-
sive advocate of such a reform.
Since both of these recommendations for reform appear in a treatise
offering advice to potential hipparchs, it is reasonable to infer that Xeno-
phon means for his ideal hipparch to pursue these measures – and


On the issues with the text here, see Delebecque : . Cf. how Agesilaus on his campaign in
Asia Minor requires wealthy men from allied Greek cities either to serve in his cavalry themselves or
to provide a substitute with a horse and arms to serve in his place – and they eagerly pursue the
latter option (Ages. .–; HG ..).

Xenophon seems to envision the hipparch persuading the physically unfit and orphans, who were
exempt from cavalry service (Bugh : –), to contribute money voluntarily toward the
cavalry.

When Xenophon proposes cavalry reform in the Poroi (.), he goes on to state explicitly that this
and other measures could be implemented by decrees of the Assembly (.). Xenophon also
pictures the hipparch “teaching” the city about the importance of attaching infantry to a cavalry
force (.; cf. .–), presumably by addressing the Athenian Assembly.
 Hipparchicus: How to Succeed as a Democratic Military Leader 
presumably others as well – as an extension of his responsibility to make
the city’s cavalry as strong as possible. At the same time, however, Xeno-
phon does not lay out precisely how a hipparch should go about achieving
these reforms, and appears more interested in outlining the sorts of reforms
that a conscientious hipparch should pursue. Likewise, in his Poroi, as we
shall see, Xenophon is much more interested in the reform agenda that he
urges his readers, as potential civic leaders, to pursue than in laying out
exactly how to work through democratic institutions to win the approval
of the Athenian people so as to put it into action. In both cases, he assumes
that his elite readers are familiar with the democratic channels through
which reforms must go in order to be implemented, and therefore focuses
on the substance of the reforms themselves.

If the Hipparchicus, as I have argued, offers Xenophon’s elite reader a case

study in how to succeed as a leader within the Athenian democracy, it also
sets forth a vision of the obligation of the Athenian elite more generally to
adapt their lifestyle and subordinate it to the service of the city. Although
some members of the Athenian elite may be happy to pursue horseman-
ship as an end in itself as a part of an elite lifestyle, Xenophon makes it
clear that wealthy Athenians have a responsibility to deploy their horse-
manship, first and foremost, in supporting the city’s cavalry (.). Sim-
ilarly, Xenophon’s On Horsemanship prioritizes the training of horses for
service in the cavalry over all other equestrian activities, and portrays
horsemanship not as something to be practiced just for pleasure and as a
marker of elite status but because it serves the city.
Consistent with this privileging of equestrian activity in service of the
state over the pursuit of it simply as an aristocratic pastime is Xenophon’s
insistence that the hipparch encourage his cavalrymen to improve their
equestrian skills for war by practicing these on their own time:
To ensure that the men have a firm seat, whatever the nature of the ground,
it is perhaps too much trouble to have them out frequently when there is no
war going on; but you should call the men together, and advise them to
practice turning off the roads and galloping over all sorts of ground when
they are riding to the country or any other place. For this does nearly as
much good as taking them out, and it is less tedious. It is useful to remind
them also that the state endures an expenditure of nearly forty talents a year


So too in Xenophon’s treatise On Hunting (Cynegeticus), the ultimate justification for the pursuit of
hunting is not that it is integral to an aristocratic lifestyle but that it produces the sort of men who
can serve the city and lead it well (–; cf. Eq. .).
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
on the cavalry so that it may not have to look about for cavalry in the event
of war, but may have it ready for immediate use. Bearing this in mind, the
men are likely to take more pains with their horsemanship, so that when
war breaks out they may not have to fight untrained for the state, for glory,
and for life. (.–)
Xenophon pointedly observes that the city spends a great deal of money
supporting the cavalry, and it is therefore incumbent on cavalrymen to
work hard, even on their own, so as to be prepared to serve the city; in so
doing, they will meet the city’s expectation that its expenditures advance
the common good, and simultaneously they will benefit personally since
zealous practice will help them win glory and ensure their own survival in
battle. In Xenophon’s Oeconomicus, Ischomachus embraces a similar vision
of the proper place of horsemanship in the lives of the elite: in the course of
his daily activities running his estate, he makes sure to practice the skills of
horsemanship that will make him an effective cavalryman for the city
(.–).
So important is the cultivation of horsemanship in service of the state
that Xenophon instructs his hipparch to remind his cavalrymen that this
must take precedence over other aristocratic pursuits like exercise in the
gymnasium in preparation for athletic competition:
In case anyone feels that his troubles will be endless if his duty requires him
to practise horsemanship in this way, let him reflect that men in training for
athletic contests face troubles far more numerous and exacting than the
most zealous practitioners of horsemanship. For most athletic exercises are
carried out with toil and sweat, but nearly all equestrian exercises are
pleasant work. No action of man bears a closer resemblance to flying, and
that is something people long to be able to do. And it is far more glorious to
win a victory in war than in a boxing match. Although in either case the
state gains in glory from the victory, in the case of a military victory the
gods generally also crown states with prosperity. For my part, therefore, I do
not know why anything should be practiced more than the art of war.
(.–)
Not only is equestrian exercise more pleasant than athletic exercise in the
gymnasium, but it also serves a more important end since victory in war is
not only glorious but essential to the well-being of the city. In the ongoing
discussion among Greek writers of the place of athleticism within the city,
Xenophon comes down on the side of those who find other pursuits more


Xenophon’s figure of forty talents appears to be based on what the city paid out each year as the sitos
allowance for feeding cavalry horses (see Bugh : –).
 Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr 
critical to the success of a state, and counsels his elite readers to act
accordingly.
Although the Hipparchicus focuses on a single sphere of elite leadership
in the city and offers advice specific to this, it also provides a possible
template for successful and dynamic elite leadership in a democratic
setting. Success, it suggests, entails managing adeptly and cannily relation-
ships with a range of actors, individual and group, and navigating thought-
fully social and political challenges. An effective democratic leader works
creatively within the parameters of existing democratic laws and institu-
tions to achieve his ends, but also considers how he or his agents can
modify and improve existing arrangements. Xenophon’s Poroi, though
concerned with a different form of civic leadership, likewise calls for
engaged and conscientious service to the city and for thoughtful efforts
to make the democracy function more effectively and successfully.

Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr

Xenophon’s Poroi (/), a “pamphlet” that was written in the aftermath
of, and in reaction to, Athens’ disastrous Social War (–), seeks to
obviate the need for Athenians to reap profit through aggression abroad by
proposing reforms that will provide all Athenian citizens with a daily
payment of a three-obol maintenance (trophē) from the city. Although
scholars have discussed many aspects of Xenophon’s ambitious, if some-
times implausible, program of reforms, they have not fully appreciated
how this aims to transform not only the city but the role of the elite and
their wealth within it. Xenophon suggests that if the city enjoys peace with
its neighbors, elite Athenians can deploy their wealth to promote the city’s
financial well-being at home rather than its military ventures abroad, and
thereby benefit themselves and the city. Once we appreciate this facet of
the Poroi, we can better understand this work and its relation to Xeno-
phon’s efforts elsewhere to reshape the elite and their relation with the city.
It is useful to begin by placing the Poroi in the context of Xenophon’s
other writings and those of his contemporaries. Most conspicuously, the


For criticism by Greek writers of the place of athleticism within the polis, see Golden : –,
–; cf. Pritchard : –.

Farrell (: –) makes a strong case against Dillery () that Xenophon does not repudiate
Athenian imperialism per se in the Poroi, only the uglier manifestations of this; cf. Dorion and
Bandini a: –. On the Poroi as a “pamphlet,” see Dillery : –. The following
monetary equivalences will help the general reader make sense of this section:  obols =  drachma;
 drachmae =  mina;  minae =  talent.
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
Poroi bears a close relation to Xenophon’s Oeconomicus. In setting forth a
program by which Athens can increase its revenues and reap the manifold
benefits of this, the Poroi takes the principles of active profit-seeking and
entrepreneurship that Xenophon endorses for individual households
(oikoi) in the Oeconomicus and applies them on the level of the polis.
This should come as no great surprise since Xenophon envisions the oikos
as a miniature polis (Oec. .), and the polis as an aggregation of a
multitude of households (Mem. ..); what produces successful results
in one sphere should, in Xenophon’s view, do the same in the other one.
Xenophon’s Poroi, however, diverges substantially from the Oeconomicus
in advancing a program that is meant to transform the city and improve
the life of its citizens dramatically. There is, in fact, a utopian dimension to
Xenophon’s vision of an Athens at peace and flourishing culturally as well
as economically (., .), which may be inspired in part by the contem-
porary discussion of how an ideal society and state should be con-
structed. Significantly, however, Xenophon remains largely grounded
in the real world in his Poroi as he proposes specific measures that the city
of Athens could, if it chose, seek to carry out.
Indeed, the Poroi resembles to some extent a deliberative speech pre-
sented before the Athenian Assembly, with Xenophon, as orator (rhētōr),
advising the city on a course of action that it should pursue. Aristotle
observes in his Rhetoric (b) that “the most important subjects about
which all men deliberate and deliberative orators expound, are five in
number: ways and means (poroi), war and peace, the defense of the
country, imports and exports, legislation.” Xenophon’s Poroi focuses on
the first of these and devotes some attention as well to the other four. In
offering advice on these topics, moreover, Xenophon displays the sort of
knowledge and expertise that Socrates encourages Glaucon to obtain
before addressing the Assembly as rhētōr (Mem. ..–). Thus, Vivienne


Although the date of the Oeconomicus is uncertain, it presumably antedates the late Poroi. Both
works emphasize the importance of “increasing” income, the Oeconomicus for the oikos (see
Chapter , note ), the Poroi for the city (., ., .); on the overlap, see Dillery :
 and Lewis : .

This discussion takes place across different genres, including Aristophanes’ Ecclesiazousae and Plutus,
Plato’s Republic, Isocrates’ Areopagiticus, and Xenophon’s own Cyropaedia.

Oliver (: –) argues that the Poroi is very much a part of contemporary Athenian discourse
concerning the economy.

Thus Schorn : , with  n. , which collects the earlier scholarship; cf. Tuplin
: .

Cf. Demosthenes : On the Symmories (/), a deliberative speech delivered before the Assembly
that proposes financial reforms in connection with Athens’ navy.
 Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr 
Gray (a: ; cf. ) suggests that “In Poroi, Xenophon adopts the role
that Socrates assigned to those who ‘do politics’ in the democracy.”
Notwithstanding these evocations of deliberative discourse, the Poroi
does not pretend to be a speech before the Athenian Assembly. Like
other Xenophontic works, the Poroi addresses an elite Athenian reading
audience and advises on matters of significance to it and the city at large.
In particular, it seeks to persuade elite Athenians to embrace reforms of the
city’s finances in which they have a significant vested interest and to work
for the implementation of these as members of a class on whom the city
especially depends for political leadership. The opening of the Poroi
explicitly takes up the issue of good leadership in suggesting that the city’s
leaders need to rethink Athens’ reliance on aggression abroad to provide
for the needs of the Athenian masses:
For my part I have always held that polities (tas politeias) reflect the
character of their leaders. Some of the leading men at Athens, however,
have stated that they recognize justice as clearly as other men, but because
of the poverty of the masses (tou plethous) they are forced to be somewhat
unjust in the treatment of the allied cities. This set me thinking whether by
any means the citizens might sustain themselves from their own resources,
which would be the most just way. I felt that, were this so, they would be
relieved of their poverty, and also of the suspicion with which they are
regarded by other Greeks. (.)
Xenophon appears to be addressing here his elite readers, who stand in a
unique position as actual or potential leaders of the Athenian dēmos to set
the city on the right course by proposing decrees in the Assembly to
implement the reforms that he goes on to propose (cf. .), and he
therefore attempts to win them over to his point of view. In this case,
Xenophon is not so much assuming the role of democratic rhētōr in the
Poroi as much as he is advising those who may serve in this capacity and
providing them with not only a program of reforms to pursue in the
Assembly but also the arguments that may help win its passage.
In advising his elite Athenian readership, Xenophon confidently and
enthusiastically sets forth a program that seeks to raise revenues to provide
support and sustenance for every citizen without aggression abroad. He
recommends measures, for example, to draw more metics to Athens since


Contrast the fiction that Isocrates maintains throughout his Areopagiticus that he is addressing the
Athenian Assembly; on his “pseudo-symbouleutic rhetoric,” see Ober :  with  n. .

Gray (: ) suggests that in the Poroi Xenophon emulates the Memorabilia’s Socrates who
advises “those who wish to improve the resources of the Athenians (.).”
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
this will increase the state’s revenues from the tax on metics (metoikion)
(.–) and to make Athens more attractive to foreign traders (emporoi)
and shipowners since this will enrich the state through the taxes and rents
they will pay (.–; cf. .). Xenophon proposes, moreover, that the city
should impose a one-time tax on its wealthy citizens to create a capital
fund (.–) that will be used to invest in enterprises that will generate a
substantial return for the city including lodging houses for shipowners and
visitors (.–), ships that can be leased out to traders (.), and, most
importantly (and least plausibly), a huge pool of slaves – eventually there
will be three for every citizen – who will bring the city large revenues when
they are leased out to entrepreneurs who work the city’s silver mines
(.–).
Although Xenophon’s program to improve the city’s finances is bold
and innovative, it is socially and politically conservative. Thus, for exam-
ple, when Xenophon proposes modifying the city’s arrangements for
metics, he aims to improve the financial situation of the city and its
citizens rather than to alter fundamentally the status of metics in relation
to citizens. So too, when he proposes that the city purchase a large pool
of slaves, his intent is to expand the exploitation of this sub-citizen class for
the profit of citizens rather than to modify their status within the city.
Xenophon, moreover, does not seek to alter the fundamental socioeco-
nomic divide between rich and poor Athenians by providing every citizen
with a daily payment of three obols; while this will be a significant sum for
poorer citizens, it does not close the gap in wealth between them and the
city’s elite.
If Xenophon’s reform program maintains existing social distinctions and
divisions, it also leaves intact the city’s current political structures and
works within these to achieve its goals. Xenophon’s proposed three-obol
trophē does not, as some have thought, essentially replace the pay (misthos)
that Athenians received, for example, for serving as jurors in the popular


Xenophon’s scheme to create a huge pool of slaves to exploit the mines would take decades to
realize: see Gauthier : ; cf. Figueira : – n. .

On the conservative nature of Xenophon’s arrangements for metics, see Whitehead : –
and Schorn : –; pace Jansen : –.

Although Xenophon observes that if slaves are well treated they can be used to defend the city in
war (., with Hunt : –), he takes for granted that they are possessions of the city who
will be branded as public slaves (.).

As Kroeker observes (: ), Xenophon does not challenge “the democratic assumption that
the poverty of the masses is a problem that needs a solution.”

Gauthier (: , , , :  n. ) and Schütrumpf (: –) emphasize how
advantageous the reforms of the Poroi are to the wealthy.
 Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr 
courts or attending the Assembly and thus reduce the incentive for poorer
Athenians to serve in these capacities and participate in democratic insti-
tutions. He presents this trophē as an independent supplement that all
Athenians will receive regardless of whether they serve on juries and attend
the Assembly; those serving in these capacities can presumably receive pay
for their participation in these democratic institutions and still collect the
trophē as well.
Xenophon likewise works within democratic parameters in modifying
but not eliminating the financial role that wealthy Athenians play in
supporting the city. The Athenian democracy required wealthy citizens
to support the city by subsidizing and carrying out expensive liturgies,
including the trierarchy and chorēgia; the former entailed taking on the
costs of one of the city’s triremes for a year and supervising its crew, the
latter paying for and training a chorus to compete in one of the city’s
festivals. In addition, the city required wealthier citizens to pay the
eisphora, a tax that was levied as needed to support Athens’ military
campaigns. Although wealthy Athenians sometimes embraced these obli-
gations out of patriotism and in pursuit of the honor and more concrete
advantages that service to the city might yield, they also regularly com-
plained that they were burdensome and sought to evade them. In his
Poroi, Xenophon embraces the basic democratic principle that elite Athe-
nians should deploy their wealth in service of the city, but proposes
adapting the form of the eisphora in the peacetime Athens that he envi-
sions: the wealthy will pay a one-time eisphora so the city can create a fund
to make investments and produce revenues that will help make it possible
to pay a trophē to each citizen.
Xenophon argues that the Athenian elite will pay willingly into the
capital fund that he seeks to establish since this will benefit them
personally in a way that their payment of the wartime eisphora does not:
Nevertheless, I venture to hope that the citizens would contribute (eispher-
ein) eagerly toward such objects, when I recall the large sums contributed by


Pace Schütrumpf : – and Azoulay c: –.

For the trophē as a supplement, see Andreades :  n. ; cf. Schütrumpf : –; Tuplin
: . Gauthier (: –; cf. : –) proposes that at least initially the trophē may
make possible payment of the misthos for those serving on juries and attending Assembly meetings,
but Xenophon treats it throughout the Poroi as a direct payment from the city to all Athenians that
is not contingent on performing any public service. It is important to recognize that the trophē is
small enough at three obols that it does not eliminate the incentive for average Athenians to seek out
wages through public service or to engage in other forms of work to make money (cf. .).

On Athens’ system of liturgies and the eisphora and resistance from the elite to this, see Christ :
–.
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
the citizenry when Lysistratus was in command and troops were sent to aid
the Arcadians, and again in the time of Hegesileos. I am also aware that
large expenditure is frequently incurred to send warships abroad, though no
one can tell whether the expedition will succeed or fail, and the only thing
certain is that the contributors will never see their money back in whole or
even in part. But no investment can yield them so fine a return as the
money that they advance (protelesōsin) to form the capital fund (aphormēn).
For every contributor of ten minae, receiving three obols a day, gets nearly
twenty per cent – as much as the return on financing a merchant ship’s
voyage; and every contributor of five minae gets more than a third of his
capital back. But most of the Athenians will get over a hundred per cent
back in a year, for those who advance one mina will draw an income of
nearly two minae, provided by the city, which is to all appearances the most
secure and enduring of human institutions. (.–)
Whereas payers of the current wartime eisphora get no personal return
whatsoever from their contributions – a fact that likely did not escape the
notice of the elite payers of this tax (cf. Thuc. ..) – Xenophon
promises that those who pay his peacetime eisphora will receive a hand-
some and risk-free “return” on their “investment.”
How exactly does Xenophon view this as an attractive arrangement for
elite citizens, which they will willingly embrace? Although Xenophon
portrays his peacetime eisphora as an investment that will yield substantial
returns, it remains a tax on the wealthy rather than a loan whose principal
will be returned to them. Like the wartime eisphora, the proposed peace-
time eisphora will be mandatory and the level of payment required of
wealthy citizens will be determined by how wealthy they are. Where his
peacetime eisphora diverges from the city’s wartime eisphora is that each
payer of it, like every other citizen, will receive the trophē of three obols a
day that the common capital fund will eventually produce. This will not
only reduce the effective cost of the tax but also lead to a net gain over time
even for those paying at the ten-minae level, who will recoup what they
have paid in about five years. To be sure, a wealthy Athenian might object
to the fact that poorer Athenians get off scot-free under Xenophon’s
arrangements since they receive the three obols per day without having
to contribute to the capital fund. But less well-off Athenians do not


Gauthier (: –) argues persuasively that Xenophon is proposing a mandatory tax and not
a voluntary donation (epidosis) or a loan to the city. On the variable levels at which wealthy men
paid the wartime eisphora in Athens after /, see Christ : – and .

When Xenophon speaks of most Athenians paying one mina in eisphora and getting nearly twice
this back from the trophē in a single year (.), he may seem to be suggesting that all Athenians will
pay at least a mina in eisphora, but it is hard to see how poorer Athenians could come up with such a
 Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr 
contribute to the wartime eisphora either, and Xenophon’s peacetime
eisphora will not only prove less onerous to its elite payers but even produce
a net gain for them over time.
A further appeal of the peacetime eisphora to elite Athenians is that
Xenophon envisions levying it only once to raise the capital needed to start
up his proposed projects. After these are underway, they will produce
sufficient revenues to allow their expansion over time without further
outlays from the city’s wealthiest citizens. Thus, for example, Xenophon
envisions purchasing , slaves from the capital fund, leasing them out
for work in the silver mines, and using part of the substantial revenue
derived from them each year to purchase more slaves until the pool reaches
its desired size (.–). Once the wealthy pay the one-time peacetime
eisphora, therefore, they will be free of future levies of this sort. Xenophon
is so eager to win his elite audience over to his proposal, moreover, that he
suggests there could be some delay in the levying of the peacetime eisphora
so as to allow its payers to rebuild their fortunes, which have been depleted
by the recent impositions of the wartime eisphora (.).
There are significant additional inducements for the wealthy to accept
this peacetime eisphora. If Xenophon’s program of reforms helps keep
Athens at peace with its neighbors, as he insists it will, this will significantly
reduce their wartime expenditures for the city (.), not only their pay-
ment of the eisphora but also their outlays as trierarchs since the city should
need a smaller navy in time of peace and therefore fewer wealthy men to
help cover its costs. Wealthy citizens, moreover, stand to gain substan-
tially from the city’s creation of a pool of slaves that will be let out to
individuals working the silver mines since wealthy Athenians were espe-
cially active in this sphere.
A more subtle inducement for some of Xenophon’s elite Athenian
readers to embrace his program of reforms is that he proposes the Athenian

sum (cf. Waterfield and Cartledge : – n. ), and his elite readers would presumably be
aware of this. Xenophon likely means, therefore, that most Athenians who pay the eisphora will pay
at the one-mina level and not that all Athenians will pay at this level; if Xenophon envisioned all
Athenians paying a peacetime eisphora, this would constitute a significant departure from the
wartime eisphora, which was paid only by wealthier Athenians, and call for some explanation and
justification.

During this hiatus, Xenophon envisions the state investing its increased revenues from his other
reforms in his scheme for the mines (.).

Instead of spending large sums on trierarchies, wealthy Athenians under Xenophon’s new
arrangements could lease ships from the city’s new fleet of public merchant vessels (.) and
profit from this; on the substantial involvement of wealthy Athenians in leasing public and private
property, see Osborne : –, –.

On the activity of wealthy Athenians in the silver mines, see Shipton : .
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
democracy, while maintaining its basic institutions, behave in an entre-
preneurial manner with which they would be familiar and comfortable.
Indeed, Xenophon invokes the entrepreneurial success of wealthy Athe-
nians who have leased out slaves in the silver mines as a model for the city
to emulate:
To make myself clearer on the subject of the maintenance (trophēs), I will
now explain how the mines may be worked with the greatest advantage to
the state. Not that I expect to surprise you by what I am going to say, as if
I had solved a difficult problem. For some things that I will mention are still
to be seen by anyone at the present day, and as for conditions in the past,
we have all heard that they were similar. But what may be surprising is that
the city, being aware that many private individuals are making money from
its mines, does not imitate (mimeisthai) them. Those of us who have paid
attention to these things have surely known for a long time by report that
Nicias, son of Niceratus, once owned a thousand men in the mines, and let
them out to Sosias the Thracian, on condition that Sosias pay him an obol a
day per man net, with any losses in the workforce to be made up by Sosias.
Hipponicus, again, had six hundred slaves let out on the same terms, which
brought in a mina a day net. Philemonides had three hundred, and received
half a mina. There were others too, each capable of realizing his own level of
profit. But why dwell on the past? Even today there are many men in the
mines let out in this way. If my proposals were adopted, the only innova-
tion would be that just as private individuals have built up a permanent
source of income by becoming slave owners, so the state would acquire
public slaves, until there were three for every citizen. (.–)
Xenophon insists that there is nothing surprising or radical in what he
proposes and that the city need merely imitate wealthy Athenians
who have profited handsomely from letting out slaves for use in the
silver mines.
Xenophon proposes not only that the city emulate individuals who have
profited from leasing out slaves to those working the mines, but also that
the city’s ten tribes follow the example of entrepreneurs who collaborate in
the working of the mines. Xenophon suggests that the Athenian tribes, like
private individuals, might share risks in the exploration and exploitation of
the silver mines:
I think that I can offer some advice (sumbouleusai) that will make the
opening of new cuttings a perfectly safe undertaking. The Athenians, of
course, are divided into ten tribes. Now if the city were to offer each tribe


Xenophon posits that there is a precedent for the city acting strategically in this way since it already
profits from leasing out state property to individuals (.–; cf. .).
 Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr 
an equal number of slaves, and the tribes were to pool their luck when new
cuttings were made, the result would be that if one tribe found silver, this
would be profitable to all; and if two, three, four, or half the tribes found
silver, the profits from these works would obviously be even greater.
Nothing that has happened in the past makes it probable that all would
fail to find silver. Of course, private individuals can also combine in this
way and pool their luck in order to diminish the risk. (.–)
Xenophon thus extends the role of the tribes, which played an integral
social and political part in the Athenian democracy, to economic activities
that will benefit the city and its citizens.
Xenophon is conscious that some of his elite readers may have concerns
about the city becoming so involved in entrepreneurial activities since this
might impinge on the profitable activities in which they participate, and
seeks to reassure them that they need have no fears in this regard. Thus,
immediately after proposing that the tribes should become directly
involved in the exploitation of the silver mines, Xenophon declares:
Do not fear, however, that a public operation formed on this plan will harm
the interests of private persons, or private persons harm the public enter-
prise. No, just as every contingent that joins an alliance strengthens and is
strengthened by all the others, so the more persons operating in the mines,
the more of value they will discover and extract. (.)
One may infer from Xenophon’s remarkable confidence in the unlimited
capacity of the silver mines (.) that wealthy men could also continue to
let out slaves profitably for working the mines, as they have in the past
(.–), even when the city has established a huge pool of slaves for this
same purpose.

If Xenophon goes out of his way to make his reforms appeal to his elite
audience, who will need to advocate for their passage, by pointing to the
benefits that they will reap and reassuring them that any current mining
enterprises in which they may be involved will not suffer, his proposals
seek to benefit all Athenians, not just elite citizens. All citizens will benefit
from the city’s new peaceful relations with other Greek states and will
enjoy receiving a daily trophē of three obols from the city. As Xenophon
concludes the Poroi, he provides a pithy summary of the universal benefits
of his program of reforms:


On the role of the tribes within the democracy, see Hansen : –.
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
Well now, surely, if none of these proposals is impossible or even difficult to
put into practice; if by doing so we shall be regarded with more affection by
the Greeks, shall live in greater security, and gain a more glorious reputa-
tion; if the dēmos will enjoy an ample maintenance (trophēs) and the rich
will be set free from the expenses of war; if with a large surplus in hand we
will celebrate our festivals with even more splendor than at present, will
restore the temples, and repair the walls and docks, and will give back to
priests, members of the Council, magistrates, and cavalrymen what is theirs
by tradition (ta patria); how is it not right to proceed with this program as
quickly as possible, so that already in our time we may come to see our city
secure and prosperous? (.)
In keeping with his claims throughout the Poroi, Xenophon asserts that his
reforms will improve the city’s relations with other Greeks and benefit
both poor and rich within the city. In addition, he points here to further
benefits that will accrue when the city’s financial situation improves
dramatically: it will have the resources to renovate its temples, walls, and
docks and to “give back to priests, members of the Council, magistrates,
and cavalrymen what is theirs by tradition (ta patria).” This last claim is a
somewhat puzzling one, and how we read it has important implications for
understanding what Xenophon hopes to achieve through his reforms.
Although it is possible to construe Xenophon’s assertion that his pro-
gram will restore ta patria to the named groups of persons as an indication
that it is ultimately a reactionary one that seeks to undermine the democ-
racy, this interpretation is not justified. To be sure, critics of the
Athenian democracy sometimes justify their conservative political agendas
by presenting them as a return to a putative ancestral constitution (patrios
politeia) in which members of the elite dominated. But there is no
evidence elsewhere in the Poroi that Xenophon is advancing a reactionary
program – his program respects democratic institutions and is designed to
be instituted through them and to support them – and the Poroi begins
and ends by emphasizing the benefits the proposed reforms will bring to all
Athenians and the city at large. Against this backdrop, when Xenophon
speaks of returning ta patria to priests, members of the Council, magis-
trates, and cavalrymen, he is most likely referring not to bestowing on
them political privileges but to restoring financial support to them –
presumably because this had fallen off recently during the difficult years
of the Social War (cf. .–).

 
Cf. Gauthier : , . See Isocrates’ Areopagiticus, with Ober : –.
 Poroi: How to Succeed as a Democratic Rhētōr 
In the Poroi, Xenophon appears as a reformer who seeks within demo-
cratic parameters to improve his native city and, in particular, to guide his
elite readers on how they can best serve their city and ensure its success. His
message to them is twofold. First, they have a responsibility to provide good
leadership that will simultaneously improve the city’s relations with its
neighbors and address the legitimate needs of Athenian citizens for a reliable
source of subsistence, and they can best fulfill this role by working to
implement the program of reforms that Xenophon sets forth. Second, they
have an obligation as wealthy individuals to support the city financially,
which includes paying the wartime eisphora; but if they willingly pay on a
one-time basis an eisphora to create a capital fund that will greatly improve
the city’s financial resources over time, the city will enjoy more peaceful
relations with other states and wealthy citizens will be called on much less
frequently to support the city’s military ventures. Thus, Xenophon makes it
clear that if the city’s elite provide good leadership along the lines he
proposes, the city will prosper and so will its citizens, rich and poor.

When Xenophon presents himself as an expert advisor to his elite readers

in his Hipparchicus and Poroi, he carries out a role that his Socrates
sometimes plays as instructor of the elite in Xenophon’s Socratic works.
Although Socrates typically speaks to his elite interlocutors broadly of how
important it is that they seek out an education that will make them worthy
to lead the democratic city and sketches out for them the different facets of
such an education, on occasion he advises them in detail on how best to
carry out distinct leadership roles (Mem. ., ., .). And when Socrates
reaches the limits of his own knowledge, he refers his associates to
knowledgeable men who can educate them. Xenophon emerges in his
Hipparchicus and Poroi as just such a knowledgeable man who can help
produce competent leaders in specific spheres through his written advice.
Although Xenophon does not explicitly vaunt his own expertise in
cavalry matters in the Hipparchicus or civic finance in the Poroi, he
establishes his credibility as an instructor in these areas through his
confident display of his knowledge. In each work, he shows that he is
intimately familiar with the multiple dimensions of his topic and can
provide useful commentary on these. Indeed, his extensive knowledge
enables him to instruct not only on how to succeed within existing
parameters, but also on how to work to modify these in ways that will


See Mem. .. and .., with Dorion and Bandini b:  and : , respectively; cf.
: ccvi–ccix and a: –.
 Xenophon in the Hipparchicus and Poroi
serve the city. Xenophon conveys an optimism in each work, moreover,
that if his readers follow his advice, they will be able to succeed as leaders of
the city.
Xenophon’s mode of instruction, however, varies in each work. As we
have seen, in the Hipparchicus Xenophon directly addresses and instructs
his reader on how best to carry out the office of hipparch, whereas in the
Poroi he is somewhat more oblique in his educational approach. He
identifies at the start of this work a major problem – the city’s need to
support its populace through war with other states – and then proposes in
detail financial reforms that will enrich the city and eliminate the cause of
its aggression abroad. As he sets forth these reforms and the arguments in
support of them, he models for his elite readers how a democratic rhētōr
might go about winning passage of these reforms in the Athenian
Assembly; all that is needed for them to become a reality is for one of
his readers to step forward as advocate of them before the Athenian people
and thereby provide the leadership needed to win their passage (cf. .).
If Xenophon, as author, shows himself in the Poroi to be knowledgeable
concerning how to carry out the vital role of democratic rhētōr, in his
Anabasis, as we shall see, Xenophon goes so far as to cast himself conspic-
uously in this role in presenting himself as a leader of a Greek mercenary
force. In so doing, he vividly illustrates for his Athenian readers how a
member of the elite can lead a mass of men by deftly exercising the power
of persuasion.
  

Xenophon the Democratic Orator

The Politics of Mass and Elite in the Anabasis

Xenophon’s deep interest in the role of elite Athenians under the democ-
racy is not limited to his Athenian works that we have surveyed in earlier
chapters but manifests itself subtly, but substantially, elsewhere in his
corpus, most notably in his Anabasis. This chapter argues that the Ana-
basis, a work that on the surface has little to do with Athens as it recounts
the march of the Ten Thousand with Cyrus into the Persian Empire
(–), provides a sort of mirror to Athens as Xenophon depicts the
need for, and challenges of, elite leadership in the quasi-democratic setting
of the Cyrean army. The Anabasis, in setting forth how an adept member
of the Athenian elite – Xenophon himself – succeeds as a leader of the
Cyreans, not only confirms in action the principles that Xenophon and his
Socrates endorse elsewhere for effective elite leadership within the Athe-
nian democracy but also elaborates on how important it is for an elite
leader of the masses to be an able and persuasive speaker. It does so by
portraying Xenophon not just as a gifted general, as we might expect in a
narrative concerning a military expedition, but as a skilled democratic
orator (rhētōr) who wins over the Cyrean masses through his verbal
virtuosity.
In recent years, scholars have focused increasing attention on Xeno-
phon’s Anabasis, whose long popularity as a school text seems to have
contributed to its neglect in scholarly discourse. The Anabasis is emerging
in current scholarship as an intriguing work that is generically innovative
and narratologically complex as an autobiography of sorts written in the


Xenophon’s Socrates makes it clear in his advice to a cavalry commander that effective speech is
essential to military leadership (Mem. ..–; cf. Eq. Mag. ., .), but the Anabasis goes well
beyond this in illustrating its central importance to military command in a wide range of contexts
(cf. Tuplin : ). Marincola (: ) rightly observes: “The role of rhetoric in Xenophon’s
vision of leadership is paramount.”

Thus Flower : .


 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
third person. Although scholars have investigated many literary and
historical facets of the Anabasis, they have not fully appreciated its Athe-
nian resonances and how Xenophon’s depiction of himself as a successful
leader of the Cyreans complements his reflections elsewhere on elite
leadership within the Athenian democracy. In advancing this interpreta-
tion, I do not mean to suggest that Xenophon consciously wrote the
Anabasis as a coded reflection on the Athenian democracy, but rather that
the Anabasis explores elite roles in a quasi-democratic setting in a way that
reflects Xenophon’s strong interest in elite political behavior within the
Athenian democracy and that offers his elite Athenian readers an optimis-
tic vision of the efficacy of elite leadership of the masses.
This chapter first proposes that we should be attuned to the Athenian
resonances of the Anabasis not least because it conspicuously makes
Xenophon the Athenian its protagonist, and then considers how Xeno-
phon’s success as leader of the Cyreans reflects his ability to adapt
Athenian-style elite leadership of the masses to his new context. It will
argue that Xenophon presents the social and political behavior of the
Cyrean force and his own role as a leader of it in terms that evoke
democratic Athens. Especially noteworthy is the way that Xenophon
portrays himself as a successful democratic orator, who is equally adept
at persuading mass audiences in deliberative and forensic contexts. Finally,
this chapter turns to the implications of this reading for our assessment of
the Anabasis as a historical account and our understanding of Xenophon’s
perspective on elite leadership of the masses.

The Anabasis as an Athenian Story

The explicitly Athenian orientation of much of Xenophon’s corpus makes
it natural for us to seek out the possible Athenian resonances of the
Anabasis, and the Anabasis itself encourages this by placing Xenophon
the Athenian at the center of its narrative and making him its protagonist.
Xenophon’s Athenian origins crop up repeatedly and conspicuously in the


On its generic innovation, see Bradley  and Flower : –. On its narratological
complexity and, in particular, the entanglement of the narrator and the character Xenophon, see
Grethlein ; cf. Bradley ; Ferrario : –; Flower : , –. At several points
the third-person narrative is interrupted when the narrator breaks into the text in the first person: see
.., .., .., .., .., .. (cf. ..); Bradley : –; Grethlein : ; cf.
Gray : –.

It is controversial as to whether Xenophon hoped to conceal his authorship of the Anabasis as HG
.. might suggest; Tuplin (: ) finds this plausible, but Flower (: –) is skeptical.
References to “Xenophon” in this chapter may be to Xenophon as author or as character within the
 The Anabasis as an Athenian Story 
course of the Anabasis. Most obviously, when the narrator first introduces
Xenophon, consistent with his regular identification of characters by their
city of origin on first mention, he identifies him as “Xenophon the
Athenian” (..) and identifies him by his origins several more times
in the opening books (.., .., ..) until Xenophon comes to
dominate the text to such an extent that identification of him by city is no
longer necessary. Although Xenophon and the other seven named Athe-
nians in the Anabasis give Athens but a small numerical presence in the
Cyrean ranks, the fact that one of these named Athenians, Xenophon, is
mentioned  times in the course of the work puts this Athenian
ultimately at the heart of the narrative.
The narrator goes far beyond this, however, in bringing Athens before
his reader. For example, at the pivotal moment when the Cyreans find
themselves stranded in the center of the Persian Empire after the treach-
erous capture of their generals and Xenophon is about to step forward to
lead the Greeks, the narrator abruptly interrupts the chronological flow of
his narrative to transport his reader to Athens so as to explain how
Xenophon came to join the expedition (..–). This extensive
flashback describes Xenophon’s consultation with “Socrates the Athenian,”
who expresses misgivings about his proposed journey on the grounds that
his friendship with Cyrus might be “a cause for accusation from the city”
since Cyrus had assisted the Lacedaemonians in the war with Athens
(..); and it goes on to describe how Xenophon, on Socrates’ advice,
leaves Athens to consult Apollo at Delphi concerning the journey; returns
home again, where he reports to Socrates the results of his inept consul-
tation; and then sails forth from Athens to join the Cyreans. Later in the

Anabasis; where it is not clear from the context which of these is meant, I will specify “Xenophon the
author” or “Xenophon the character.”

I follow the reading of most manuscripts of “Theopompus, the Athenian” at .., though some
read Xenophon here (cf. Grethlein :  n. ).

For a list of the sixty-six participants “whose name and nationality are given in the Anabasis,” see Roy
(: –), who observes that “four (nationalities) stand out as more numerous than the rest,
namely Athenians, Spartans, Arcadians and Achaeans,” but “no Athenian common soldier is
mentioned at all” (). Flower (: ) counts  mentions of Xenophon, but a search of
the Thesaurus Linguae Graecae yields .

This passage figures prominently in the debate concerning the cause of Xenophon’s exile (see
Introduction, note ). Even if Xenophon’s service with Cyrus was the cause or a cause of his exile,
I agree with Flower (: –) that the Anabasis should not be read simply or primarily as an
apologia for his participation in the march of the Ten Thousand under Cyrus.

On this flashback, see Bradley : –; Flower : –; and Grethlein : –. At its
conclusion, the narrator returns to the present time frame and the plight of the Cyreans, but soon
takes us to Athens again as he recounts Xenophon’s dream that his father’s house is struck by
lightning (..–).
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
Anabasis, the narrator twice refers explicitly to Xenophon’s eventual exile
from Athens. He does so first within his excursus on Xenophon’s later life
at Scillus near Olympia, which begins “when Xenophon was in exile”
(..); and Xenophon’s future separation from Athens crops up again
when the narrator observes, in connection with Xenophon’s plans to
return home, that “not yet had the vote been put forward in Athens
concerning his exile” (..). Although these allusions to Xenophon’s
eventual exile from Athens are terse, the narrator gives them prominence
by breaking into the narrative’s chronological flow to offer a glimpse of a
troubled future.
The narrator repeatedly flags the significance of Athens for Xenophon
in other ways as well. Thus, for example, he speaks at one point of how
Xenophon, who as general had been entrusted by the Cyreans with a
portion of their booty for dedications, “had a votive offering made out of
Apollo’s share of his portion and dedicated it in the treasury of the
Athenians at Delphi” (..). Furthermore, as Xenophon weighs whether
to accept sole command of the army, the fact that “his name should be
greater when it should arrive in his city” (..) is a potential entice-
ment. And just as Ithaca exerts a persistent draw on Homer’s Odysseus,
Athens does so on Xenophon, whom the narrator describes repeatedly as
on the verge of sailing off to return home, and Xenophon’s own words
confirm this.
Consistent with this emphasis on Athens as central to Xenophon’s
identity and as a present absence for him throughout his journey is the
way Xenophon shows that he is conscious of his Athenian origins in a wide
range of circumstances. For example, when he deliberates over what he
should do after Tissaphernes’ seizure of the generals and asks himself,
“From what state am I expecting the general to come and organize these
things?” (..), his homeland’s capacity for producing great leaders


On the textual variants for epeidē d’ epheugen and their possible significance in the debate
concerning the date of Xenophon’s exile, see Tuplin : – and Green :  and 
n. . On the Scillus excursus, see Bradley : –; Flower : –; Grethlein : ; on
its modern reception, see Rood .

Cf. .. and .., which may allude to Xenophon’s eventual exile.

Although the narrator simply refers to Xenophon’s efforts to “sail away” at .., .., .., and
.., Xenophon makes it clear in his own words at .. and .. that he had been seeking to
sail “homeward”; the narrator then explicitly refers to Xenophon’s preparations to go “homeward”
at .. (see Bradley : ). For reservations concerning Bradley’s thesis (–) that the
Anabasis is a nostos narrative, see Flower : –, . On Homeric allusions and resonances in
the Anabasis, including explicit references to the Odyssey at .. and .., see Tuplin .
 The Anabasis as an Athenian Story 
seems to weigh on him. Soon after this when he has been named as a
general and addresses the troops, Xenophon gives pride of place to Athens’
defeat of the Persians at Marathon as he seeks to inspire the troops to fight
bravely against their Persian foes (..–). Later, when Xenophon is
offered the sole command of the troops, he decides that this should go
instead to a Spartan since the Spartans defeated Athens in the Peloponne-
sian War and currently hold hegemony over the Greeks (..–); and
in the final book Xenophon warns the Cyreans not to defy the Spartans,
because their power is immense and their allies include the Athenians
whom they defeated (..–).
If Xenophon’s Athenian origins and identity are never far from his
mind, they also do not escape the notice of those around him. In a
playful exchange, Xenophon suggests that the Lacedaemonian
Cheirisophus should have the skills to “steal” a position on a nearby
mountain since Lacedaemonian boys are trained to steal without being
caught (..–; cf. Lac. Pol. .); Cheirisophus turns the barb back
against Xenophon, pointing out that Athenians – and particularly their
leaders – are adept at stealing from public funds (..). Less playful is
the complaint of the Arcadians and Achaeans under Callimachus the
Parrhasian and Lycon the Achaean before splitting off from the Cyrean
force that “it was shameful for an Athenian to be in command of
Peloponnesians and Lacedaimonians though he contributed no troops
to the army” (..). Xenophon’s Athenian identity, however, works
in his favor in his initial exchange with Seuthes, the Thracian prince, who
said that “he would not distrust anyone who was an Athenian; for he
knew, he said, that the Athenians were his kinsmen and he believed they
were loyal friends” (..; cf. ..–, ). Although Xenophon’s
relationship with Seuthes, which is portrayed at length in the ensuing


Thus Mather and Hewitt :  and Lendle : . Cf. Mem. .., where Socrates, in
conversation with the younger Pericles, asserts that Athenians are the “most ambitious”
(philotimotatoi) of all men.

Xenophon does not explicitly name Athens here, but rather speaks of “his fatherland” (..) and
then “the city” (.., ..).

Xenophon also speaks of Spartan supremacy at .., echoing the narrator’s comments at .., as
Grethlein (: ) observes.

Earlier in the Anabasis, Cheirisophus also highlights Xenophon’s Athenian origins when he
responds to Xenophon’s address to the surviving generals and captains: “Before this, Xenophon,
I have known you only to the extent of having heard that you were an Athenian” (..).

Although this is an odd claim since Cheirisophus is sole commander of the mercenaries at this
point, Flower (: ) makes a good case against emending the text, arguing that this is “yet
another narrative strategy by which center stage is given to Xenophon as the major protagonist in
this drama.”
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
narrative, proves to be a troubled one, it is significant that it is framed as
one between an Athenian and his Thracian “kinsman.”
In placing Xenophon the Athenian at the center of his narrative and
calling attention in a variety of ways to his Athenian origins and identity,
Xenophon the author makes the Anabasis an Athenian story in a very
literal sense, as a story about an Athenian. Xenophon’s elite Athenian
readers would not have missed this and were likely drawn to the Anabasis
by the fact that it related the adventures and successes abroad of one of
their own. In particular, they may have found appealing its portrayal of
Xenophon’s success in leading a Panhellenic force since this confirmed
their ideal vision of Athenians as versatile and capable individuals and
natural leaders of other Greeks.
The Anabasis, however, is also an Athenian story on a more subtle level,
in that its Athenian protagonist finds himself in an environment that calls
for adept elite leadership of the mass of Cyrean soldiers, and succeeds as
leader in large part by adapting the role of an Athenian democratic orator
to win over the soldiers in deliberative and forensic settings reminiscent of
those found in Athens. Xenophon’s portrayal of his success in these
terms is significant for our understanding of the Anabasis and its relation-
ship to Xenophon’s explicitly Athenian works.

The Anabasis and Democratic Athens

The sociopolitical dynamics and institutions of the Cyrean army, as viewed
through the Athenian eyes of Xenophon the author, evoke democratic
Athens in a variety of ways. Whatever the historical realities of the relations
and interactions among the Cyreans may be, Xenophon’s depictions of


Non-Athenian readers of the Anabasis would presumably have read it in ways that reflected their
own distinctive experiences, but we know little about these readers and their perspectives. Cf.
Flower : –.

Thucydides’ Pericles praises Athenians in his funeral oration because “as it seems to me, each
individual among us could in his own person, with the utmost grace and versatility, prove himself
self-sufficient in the most varied forms of activity” (..) and goes on to link this to the city’s
power in the Greek world; Gorgias’ model epitaphios likewise praises the Athenian war dead for their
versatility, including their capacity to succeed in both word and deed (fr. .–). For Athenians
as natural leaders of the Greeks, see Thuc. .–; Lys. .; Pl. Mx. d; Hyp. .; Ziolkowski
: –.

Athens is thus much more present in the Anabasis than scholars have allowed; Tuplin (: ),
for example, posits: “The peculiar nature of Anabasis means that Athens is both everywhere
(through Xenophon the Athenian) and still hardly present.”

For a recent historical analysis of the Cyreans as a military force, see Lee .
 The Anabasis and Democratic Athens 
these bear an Athenian imprint. This likely reflects both how Xenophon,
as an Athenian, experienced and processed the march of the Cyreans as it
took place and how, as an Athenian, he remembered and recalled it many
years later when he apparently wrote his Anabasis. In any event, once we
recognize these Athenian resonances in the Anabasis, we can better under-
stand Xenophon’s perspective on the march of the Ten Thousand, and
more broadly his vision of ideal elite leadership in circumstances in which
political authority lies ultimately with the masses.
What facilitates Xenophon’s representation of the sociopolitical dynam-
ics and institutions of the Cyrean army in terms that evoke the Athenian
democracy is the broad resemblance between a large army on the move and
a Greek polis. While Xenophon does not explicitly describe the Cyrean
force as a polis, he makes it clear that it is potentially a city-state since it
could decide at any time to end its march and colonize new territory – a
possibility that crops up explicitly at several points (..–, ..–,
.., .., ..–, ..–; cf. Thuc. ..) – or seize and occupy
an existing city, as the Cyreans contemplate in the case of Byzantium
(cf. ..). Although scholars debate how far Xenophon means to press
the analogy between army and state, for our current purposes what is
important is that he views them as sufficiently similar to portray the
communal life of the army in terms that in many respects apply equally
well to Athenian civic life.


Scholars have tended to assume that because Athenians constitute only a portion of the Cyrean
army that we should not view this group in terms of the Athenian polis (see esp. Dalby : –;
cf. Dillery :  n. ; Hornblower : ; Lee : ); this may be a useful caveat for
scholars seeking historical information about the Cyreans, but it overlooks the fact that Xenophon
himself views the Cyreans through an Athenian lens.

The Anabasis may have been written in the s: see Cawkwell : – (arguing that it was
written between  and ), with a review of earlier scholarship; cf. Flower : –. There is
not sufficient evidence to determine whether Xenophon was writing in response to an account by
Sophaenetus; Cawkwell (: –, ) believes this may be the case, but Stylianou (:
–) rejects this. Although Xenophon may have kept a diary on the march (see Stylianou :
–, esp.  n. ; contra Cawkwell : –), it may only have contained notes and
Xenophon likely relied primarily on his memory – and, arguably, a good bit of imagination – to
reconstruct what he presents in the Anabasis.

Hornblower () collects numerous examples of military forces engaging in political behavior in
classical and Hellenistic Greece and discusses the circumstances that might be especially conducive
to this.

Nussbaum () goes too far in viewing the Cyrean army as a polis, as noted by Marinoviç :
– and Lee : –. Dalby (: ) suggests that the Cyreans resemble a colonizing
expedition more than a polis. Dillery (: –; cf.  n. ) argues that the Cyreans are most
like a polis in Books  and , but more like a “heroic community” in Books  and ; for criticism of
this position, see Tuplin : .
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
In his portrayal of the Cyreans on their march, Xenophon presents a
sort of alternate Athens – albeit one composed of Greeks from many
different places and soldiers at that – in which the Athenian sociopolitical
world and the tensions within it are reflected, if not precisely replicated.
The Cyrean army is, like democratic Athens, unmistakably composed of
mass and elite, and this shapes and problematizes their interactions on the
march and especially in camp, where they convene in institutional settings
that are reminiscent of the Athenian Assembly and popular courts. The
challenge for the elite Cyreans, as also for Athens’ elite citizens, is how to
work with the masses to survive and prosper in an often dangerous
world. Xenophon, through his depiction of the Cyrean generals and
their interactions with their troops, explores what constitutes good leader-
ship in this quasi-democratic environment, and ultimately offers himself
up as a paradigm of how to navigate the challenges of this, in large part
because of his ability – like successful Athenian rhētores – to deploy speech
effectively in deliberative and forensic settings.
In what follows, we will first consider how Xenophon the author depicts
mass and elite interactions among the Cyreans and the institutional
settings in which these occur in terms that evoke his native Athens, and
then focus on how Xenophon the character adapts the role of Athenian
rhētōr to lead the Cyreans in large part by the power of persuasion.

Mass and Elite in the Anabasis

The Cyrean army consists of an elite cadre of named generals and captains
and a largely undifferentiated mass of soldiers. Most conspicuous among
the ranks of the elite in the opening two books of the Anabasis are the
generals Clearchus, Proxenus, and Meno, whose aristocratic bonds of
philia and xenia with Cyrus lead them to join his expedition. In the
course of Proxenus’ obituary, the narrator highlights the gap between elite


On mass and elite in Athens, see Ober .

Cf. Flower : : “This self-portrait moves beyond apology into the realm of scripting a
paradigm of the ideal democratic leader (one who must be both answerable to and in control of the
common citizens and soldiers).” Tuplin (: ) is less inclined to view Xenophon as a
democratic leader in the Anabasis: “perhaps he is simply inviting us to see him as a good leader.”
On Xenophon as a model leader in the Anabasis, see Due : –; Rood : ; Gray
b: –; Flower : –.

On this basic split, see Azoulay a: ; pace Lee (: ), who posits that “there is little
evidence that the Cyreans, whether officers or soldiers, paid much attention to class distinctions or
organized themselves in economic categories.”

Xenophon makes this explicit in the case of Clearchus (..–) and Proxenus (..; cf. ..).
Although he seems reluctant to speak of Meno, whom he detests (..–; cf. Danzig :
 The Anabasis and Democratic Athens 
and masses when he asserts that “he was able to command gentlemen
(kaloi kagathoi)” but not his soldiers (..; cf. ..). Xenophon
stands out among the elite in the remaining five books after he is elected
general, and there are numerous indications of his elite status. His aristo-
cratic philia and xenia with Proxenus and then Cyrus prompts him to
accompany the Cyreans (..; cf. ..); his association with Socrates
(..–) hints at his elite education; the fact that he brings his own horses
on the expedition (.., ..; cf. Eq. .) and a resplendent dress
uniform (..) points to his wealth; and, if the rigors of a military
campaign hinder the pursuit of elite pastimes, the excursus on Scillus
indicates that he will one day enjoy an elite lifestyle, including hunting,
there (..–). Emblematic of Xenophon’s elite status and his manage-
ment of it in the presence of his troops is his readiness to step down, if
briefly, from his horse to toil alongside the common soldiers (..–,
..) – a dramatic gesture that is meant to show solidarity with his
troops but attests simultaneously to the gap that normally separates him
from them.
If the Cyrean generals – or, more precisely perhaps, a subset of them –
stand out among the elite politically and socially, the generals and captains
together constitute an elite group that stands apart from the mass of
soldiers. Xenophon makes this very point when he first addresses the
assembled generals and captains:
But perhaps it is really right that you should somewhat excel them. For you
are generals, you are taxiarchs and captains. When there was peace, you had
the advantage of them both in money and in honor; now, therefore, when
there is war, you must think it right that you should be superior to the
majority (tou plēthous), and that you should plan for them and toil for them
if ever this is necessary. (..–)

–), as a friend of Cyrus, he portrays Cyrus treating him as such (..–; cf. ..). In any
event, Meno’s aristocratic background is evident from the sexual slanders leveled against him at
.. (cf. Pl. Mx. b); Plato speaks explicitly of his aristocratic status (Mx. b). Xenophon also
applies many markers of aristocratic status to Cyrus (see esp. ..–). On Cyrus’ exploitation of
elite interpersonal ties, see Azoulay a: –.

The narrator draws a similar distinction between the Persian nobility (aristoi) and the barbarian
troops at ... For kaloi kagathoi used in this social sense of members of the upper class, see
Chapter .

Clearchus engages in a similar gesture at ..–; on this and other similarities between
Xenophon and Clearchus, see Grethlein :  and  n. . These egalitarian gestures stand
in contrast to how Cyrus, in anger at his barbarian troops when they fail to extricate wagons stuck in
mud, orders the Persian nobles with him to get down in the mud to do the task (..).

On the Homeric resonances of this passage, see below in the text.
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
Their collective superiority to the common soldiers is likewise at the heart
of his subsequent appeal to them to seek out replacements for the recently
lost generals and captains: “For without leaders nothing noble or good
(oute kalon oute agathon) can be accomplished anywhere, to put it broadly
and certainly in warfare” (..). If only some members of the Cyrean
elite are in a narrow social sense “gentlemen” (kaloi kagathoi), Xenophon
suggests here that all the officers, as leaders, are capable of manifesting the
attributes of real gentlemen through noble and good action.
The mass of soldiers outside this elite are defined largely by contrast
with it and as a collective rather than as named individuals. Although
they are typically designated as “the soldiers” (hoi stratiōtai), when
Xenophon addresses his fellow elite officers in the passage quoted earlier
he revealingly refers to them as “the majority” (to plēthos) (..–), a
term Xenophon uses elsewhere in his corpus to refer to the Athenian
people (dēmos). As a group, they lack the superior virtue and fortitude
of their leaders and are prone to the sort of mob behavior that elite
Athenian writers, including Xenophon, attribute to the Athenian
masses. On the march they are susceptible to the rigors that they face
(..–, ..–), in camp they scuffle with one another
(..–) and are ready to use violence against their leaders (..,
.., .., .., ..). When the soldiers are convened as a body
to make decisions, they are volatile and vocal (.., .., ..,
.., ..) and vulnerable to bad advice and manipulation by those
addressing them (..–). Because of their weaknesses and defects,
on the march and in camp they variously need to be cheered up,
instructed, guided, prodded, and rebuked by their superiors – especially
Xenophon – for their own good and that of the group.
Admittedly, there is something timeless and universal about this inter-
class dynamic for a Greek audience, and elements of this can be traced
back to Homer. Indeed, when Xenophon first addresses the assembled


Cf. .., where Xenophon speaks of Cleonymus the Laconian and Basias the Arcadian on their
deaths at the hands of the enemy as kaloi kagathoi – this seems to be prompted by their bravery
under attack (cf. ..) rather than by their social status. In his Socratic works, as we have seen,
Xenophon and his Socrates take a broad view of kalokagathia as nobility in behavior that is not
limited to the aristocracy.

See HG .. (cf. ..); Mem. ..; Vect. .. In his Cyropaedia, Xenophon also speaks of the
Persian masses as to plēthos (.., ..) in an apparent projection of his Athenian experience of
class structures; on class structure and behavior in the Cyropaedia, see Azoulay a: –.

The Xenophontic material is treated below in the text.

Azoulay (a: –) speaks of the mass of Cyreans as “fickle” and an “ungrateful, envious mob”;
Rood (b: ) as “unruly, unreasonable, and even bestial.”
 The Anabasis and Democratic Athens 
generals and captains and exhorts them to set a brave example for their
soldiers (..–, quoted above), he echoes Sarpedon’s analysis of the
privileges and obligations that separate the warrior elite from those fighting
under them (Il. .–). And if Xenophon can equate the Cyrean
elite with the aristocratic heroes of the Iliad, the narrator suggests that the
Cyrean masses, whose foolhardiness threatens their homecoming, resemble
Odysseus’ reckless sailors – at one point, he attributes the moral short-
coming of Odysseus’ men, atasthalia, to some of them (..).
Notwithstanding these and other Homeric echoes, Xenophon’s por-
trayal of the sociopolitical dynamics of mass and elite is firmly grounded
in his contemporary world and evokes the Athenian milieu that was so
familiar to him. Although the general class dynamics that Xenophon
describes were not unique to contemporary Athens, Xenophon links
them closely to Athens in his other writings. Notably, when he portrays
the turmoil in Athens in the closing years of the Peloponnesian War in
his Hellenica, a similar class dynamic appears when the dēmos in
Assembly insists on its power to vote on whether to execute the generals
from Arginusae without trials: “the majority (to plēthos) shouted out that
it was a terrible thing if someone would not allow the dēmos to do
whatever it wished” (..), and then “the mob (ho ochlos) broke out
again with shouts” (..) in support of the proposition that those
seeking to block this vote should be tried along with the generals.
Although Euryptolemus speaks at length against this extralegal process
and in defense of the generals (..–), the dēmos finds them all
guilty and puts to death the six who are present (..). According to
Xenophon, however, the Athenians soon changed their minds and
sought legal action against “those who had deceived the dēmos”
(..). In this episode, the Athenian dēmos manifests many of the
same tendencies that the mass of Cyreans do: they are vocal, volatile, and
all too ready to scapegoat their own leaders. Xenophon’s depiction of
the Arginusae generals “on trial” before the people, in fact, finds signif-
icant parallels, as we shall see, with a scene that occurs repeatedly in the
Anabasis, in which Xenophon as general finds himself on trial before the
mass of troops.


On the Homeric echo, see Tuplin : –. For similar sentiments, see Cyr. .. and Eq.
Mag. ..

On this and other Homeric vocabulary in the Anabasis, see Tuplin : – and  n. .

Azoulay (a: ) notes the general similarity of the Cyrean troops and “the carping dēmos in
Athens.” On the Arginusae affair, see Chapter .
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator

Democratic Institutions in the Anabasis

If the class dynamics of the Cyrean force and those in Athens overlap, even
more so do the institutional contexts in which these play out. With
considerable frequency, the Cyrean troops convene, like the Athenian
Assembly, to deliberate about future courses of action and, like the
Athenian popular courts, to hold trials. Although the Cyrean “assembly”
and “popular court” lack the formal trappings of their Athenian counter-
parts and are not formally distinct from one another – the same troops
participate in both, and what starts as an assembly meeting may turn into a
judicial hearing and then back into an assembly meeting (..–) – the
assembled Cyreans carry out discrete deliberative and judicial functions at
any one time. This functional distinction is strongly reinforced, as we
shall see in the next section, by the fact that Xenophon in his frequent
speeches before the Cyreans adopts the deliberative or forensic discourse
that the occasion demands, just as speakers before the Athenian Assembly
and courts do.
When the Cyreans convene to deliberate over what course of action is
best for them, they resemble the Athenian Assembly in numerous respects.
For example, they cry out their approval or disapproval of speakers and
pass resolutions in accordance with “what seems best” to them. In so
doing, they, like the Athenian dēmos in Assembly, show that the ultimate
authority in decision-making lies with them and that they are in charge
(kurioi). Xenophon, in fact, exploits the Cyrean troops’ anxiety about


Ferrario (: ) and Tuplin (: ) in my view underestimate the democratic affinities of
these institutions.

It is important to remember too that while the Athenian Assembly and popular courts are formally
distinct, the Assembly can serve in a judicial capacity (see Hansen : –) and the same
individuals could attend the Assembly and serve as jurors (see Ober : –).

For the Cyreans’ vocal interjections, see .. and .. (anethorubēsan) and .., .., and
.. (anekragon); on audience outcries in the Athenian courts and Assembly, see Bers ; Ober
: ; Hansen : –; Tacon . For the Cyreans’ passage of resolutions with the
formula edoxe tauta (“these things seemed best”) and variations on this, see .., .., ..,
.., .., .., .., .., .., .., .., .., .., .., ..
(cf. ..); the resolutions passed by a subset of the Cyreans at .. (Clearchus’ troops) and
.. (Arcadians and Achaeans) are also described in these terms. For this formula in resolutions of
the Athenian Assembly, see Hansen : . While it is true that the use of edoxe tauta in
connection with the Cyreans’ resolutions does not necessarily mean that they are working within a
truly democratic framework (thus Hornblower : ) and on several occasions the same
formula is used to refer to the resolutions of the generals (.., .., .., .., ..) or
the generals and the captains (..), the basic equation with Athenian democratic practice seems
clear; Xenophon, in fact, speaks of the Athenian resolution for annual sacrifices after Marathon in
these terms at ...

On the Athenian dēmos as kurios in the Assembly and elsewhere, see Ober : –.
 The Anabasis and Democratic Athens 
preserving their authority – as Athenian speakers also do with their mass
audiences – when he reminds them that they must guard jealously
against those who would act unilaterally and without the endorsement of
the majority since otherwise “you collectively will not be kurioi to declare
war on whomever you may wish or to conclude it” (..).
The Cyrean army in assembly resembles the Athenian Assembly not
only in its authority to declare war but also in its ability to pass laws
regulating behavior and to specify the legal procedures to be followed
in the event of violations. Thus, at one point, the assembly of
soldiers legislates to ensure good discipline in the face of recent
breaches of this:
Then they all stood up and said that the men who initiated this behavior
should pay the penalty, and that in the future no one should be again
permitted to initiate lawlessness (anomias); but if any did, they were to be
put on trial for their lives; and the generals were to bring all offenders to
trial, and trials were likewise to be held in the matter of any other offenses
that anyone had committed since the time of Cyrus’ death; and they
appointed the captains as jurors. (..)

Here and elsewhere (..; cf. ..), the Cyrean assembly shows a level
of legislative sophistication on a par with that of the Athenian Assembly, as
it goes beyond the passage of simple decrees on policy matters and
establishes laws that are meant to bind their community in the future
and legal procedures for enforcing these.
At one point, moreover, the Cyrean assembly generates a judicial
process for the review of generals that bears a close resemblance to
democratic Athenian practice. Soon after the Cyrean assembly passes its
law against lawlessness, “It was likewise resolved that the generals should
stand trial (dikēn huposchein) for their past conduct” (..). This initiation
of a judicial review of all the generals recalls the scrutiny (euthunai) of all
outgoing officeholders, including generals, before popular courts in Ath-
ens, by which the Athenian dēmos held accountable those in positions of


On the exploitation of such concerns in the Assembly and courts, see Ober : – and Hesk
: –.

The Athenian Assembly had the sole authority to declare war and make peace: see Hansen :
–.

After / a new law could be proposed in the Athenian Assembly, but its passage ultimately
required the approval of a specially convened popular court of nomothetai: see Hansen : –.
Athenian laws typically specify an offense and the procedure for bringing suit against the offender:
see Todd : –.
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
responsibility in the city. Although Xenophon is vague about the proce-
dural details of the Cyrean measure, it appears that this scrutiny is carried
out before the assembled soldiers acting as a popular court – a function, as
we shall see, that they carry out on other occasions as well and in a manner
that evokes the Athenian courts.

Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr

The connection between the Cyrean assembly and popular court and
their Athenian analogs is further strengthened by the fact that Xenophon
plays a very Athenian role as rhētōr before the Cyreans in these settings
and adapts the rhetoric of the Athenian Assembly and courts to the
deliberative and forensic settings in which he finds himself. Indeed,
Xenophon speaks before the Cyreans not only far more than any char-
acter within the Anabasis as he presents speech after speech before the
army from Book  on but also in a recognizably Athenian manner.
Especially noteworthy is how Xenophon, like Athenian speakers, care-
fully crafts his rhetoric to appeal to and win over a mass audience by


On the Athenian euthunai for outgoing generals, see [Arist.] Ath. Pol. .; Hamel : –.
The phrase dikēn huposchein, which Xenophon uses here of the judicial review of the Cyrean
generals (cf. ..), occurs at Mem. ..– with reference to the review to which heads of state
subject themselves (dikēn hupechein); Athenians speak of the rendering of accounts as euthunas
huposchein (Lys. .; cf. .). On the evocation of Athenian practice here, see Lendle
: .
In Athens, incoming officeholders, including generals, are also subject to review by dokimasia
(see Hansen : –). Xenophon makes no mention of this in connection with the Cyrean
generals, but does speak at .. of the review of new cavalry members and their mounts in these
terms (edokimasthēsan), which recalls the Athenian practice of dokimasia of cavalrymen and their
horses before the Council ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. .; cf. X. Eq. Mag. .–, .; Oec. .); in the
same passage, an Athenian, Polystratus, is named hipparchus of this newly constituted cavalry.

Nussbaum (: ) and Anderson (: –) assume that the captains named as jurors for
hearing charges of anomia at .. also hear charges against the generals, but this does not seem to
be what Xenophon has in mind. The procedures set up at .. are specific to charges of anomia:
the generals, as in cases involving military offenses in Athens (see Christ : –), are in charge
of these trials, and the captains serve as jurors. A separate resolution at .. calls for the scrutiny of
generals, and Xenophon’s ensuing trial is apparently before the troops at large (see esp. ..;
cf. ..), and there is no mention of the captains.

On the importance of public speakers in Athens, see Mem. ..–; Ober : – and
passim; Hansen : –, –.

As Flower (: ) observes, “In books , , and  . . . about half of the text consists of speeches,
and the vast majority of them are delivered by the character Xenophon”; cf. Rood b: ;
Grethlein : , ; Tuplin : –, –. Tuplin (: –) proposes that the
abundant and varied direct discourse in the Anabasis, including that attributed to Xenophon,
contributes to its “realism,” but there is in my view something distinctly unreal about
Xenophon’s domination of direct speech from Book  on.
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
showing respect for democratic principles and procedures and commit-
ment to the common good.
That Xenophon, as a rhētōr among the Cyreans, is acting in a manner
analogous to a democratic orator in Athens is evident when Lacedaemo-
nian envoys seeking to hire the Cyreans ask Seuthes and his crony
Heracleides about Xenophon:
When the Lacedaimonians asked what sort of a man Xenophon was,
Seuthes replied that he was not a bad fellow on the whole, but he was a
friend of the soldiers (philostratiōtēs), and on that account things went the
worse for him. And they asked: “The man plays the demagogue (dēmagō-
gei), you mean, with the men?” “Very much so,” said Heracleides. (..;
cf. ..)
While the narrator does not endorse the pejorative designation of Xeno-
phon’s activities as demagoguery, his role calls to mind that of Athenian
popular politicians, who as “leaders of the people” (dēmagōgoi) address
them through speech in the Assembly and popular courts, and who can
claim through their good services in these contexts to be philodēmoi –
“friends of the people.”
Let us first consider how Xenophon employs speech successfully in the
assembly of the Cyreans and then turn to his masterful legal rhetoric in his
trials before the Cyreans.

Xenophon’s Deliberative Oratory

When Xenophon steps forward to rescue the Cyreans from their straits
after the seizure of the generals by Tissaphernes, he does so, first and
foremost, as a knowledgeable, inspiring, and versatile rhētōr, who knows
when and where to speak, what to say, and how to say it well and adapt his
message to his audience. Xenophon first displays his rhetorical skills, in


On elite accommodations to democratic sensibilities in the Athenian Assembly and courts, see Ober
.

For the designation of Athenian popular politicians as dēmagōgoi, see HG ..; Connor :
–; Ober : –; on their claim to be philodēmoi, see Connor : –; cf. Brock
: . Connor (: – n. ) identifies An. .. as “the first locus where a word
related to demagogos is itself clearly deprecatory.”

Xenophon broadly resembles the figure of the “wise adviser” found in Herodotus and Thucydides
(see Rood ), but he carries out his advisory role conspicuously as a rhētōr. Dio Chrysostom
(.–) holds up Xenophon’s speeches in the Anabasis as exemplars of rhetorical virtuosity for
students of oratory (see Tuplin : – on the reception of Xenophon in antiquity by Dio and
others); Grote (: .–, , –) extols Xenophon’s oratorical brilliance in the Anabasis,
and credits the Athenian democracy for nurturing such skills among its citizens.
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
fact, just before he puts himself forward, as he engages in an internal
dialogue in which he deliberates over what his role should be in the current
crisis and through a series of rhetorical questions convinces himself that he
must take action (..–). Xenophon’s success in persuading himself to
step forward is the precursor to his successful use of rhetoric when he
addresses, and advises, in rapid succession three ever-larger circles of
listeners – first Proxenus’ captains, next all the surviving generals and
captains, and finally the assembled army.
In rousing Proxenus’ captains to action, Xenophon speaks with a
rhetorical polish, flourish, and confidence that set him apart from earlier
speakers in the Anabasis. Consider, for example, his pithy declaration to
the captains, that “at times I feared the truce more than I now fear war”
(..); his striking assertion that the gods shall be the referees (agōnothe-
tai) of the contest of bravery that the Cyreans are entering (..); and his
apparent coinage of a new word when he calls on the captains to take the
lead in rousing others to valor and thereby show that they are “more
worthy to be generals” (axiostratēgoteroi) than the generals (..).
When a rival speaker, Apollonides, dismisses Xenophon’s advice as “talk-
ing nonsense” (phluaroiē) (..), Xenophon turns the charge of “talking
nonsense” back at him (..) and proposes that he be expelled from
their number (..). The captains, goaded on by Agasias, who iden-
tifies Apollonides as a barbarian on the basis of his pierced ears (..),
assent to this and proceed to gather the surviving officers so that they too
can hear Xenophon’s advice.
After these captains have summoned together the hundred or so surviv-
ing generals and captains and the eldest of Proxenus’ captains invites
Xenophon to address the group (..), Xenophon not only reiterates
his call to action but also speaks of the elite status of those before him and
what this demands of them in the current circumstances. As noted earlier,
he echoes Homer’s Sarpedon in linking the privileges that the leaders enjoy
in peacetime with their obligation to excel in time of war and to be
superior to “the majority” (to plēthos) (..–), and he emphasizes that
success in war or peace depends on good leaders (..); it is incumbent
on the officers, therefore, to show themselves to be brave men on the
battlefield and to call on those under them to do the same (..).


On the coinage, see Ferrario : .

Such “meta-rhetorical” exchanges are common in the Athenian Assembly: see Ober : –
and Hesk : –, –.

On Xenophon’s friendship with Agasias, see Flower : –.
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
Xenophon points out, moreover, that this is not only the noble course but
the expedient one since it will best ensure the safety and survival of the
Cyreans (..). Xenophon’s rousing rhetoric evokes admiration from
unlikely quarters as the Spartan Cheirisophus in the same breath acknowl-
edges his Athenian origins and commends him “both for what you speak
and do” (..); Xenophon, in fact, has done nothing yet except speak, so
the second part of this praise would appear to apply to his initiative in
stepping forth as rhētōr.
After his success in winning over first Proxenus’ captains and then the
entire surviving leadership of the Cyreans, Xenophon next addresses the
assembled Cyreans, and in so doing shows his adaptability as a rhētōr who
is able to persuade not only fellow members of the elite but a mass
audience. After Cheirisophus and Cleanor briefly address and rouse up
the troops, Xenophon steps forward and addresses them at great length in
two speeches separated by a brief interlude (..–, –). Dropping
the elitism of his previous speech before the generals and captains, he
adopts an Athenian-style democratic rhetoric that is designed to win over a
mass audience.
Having donned his best war garb (..), Xenophon rises up to advise
the troops concerning how best to surmount their current challenges and
return safely to their homes (..–). Like Athenian speakers before the
Assembly, Xenophon appeals to his audience largely on the basis of what
will be most advantageous to them. For example, he points out that if they
were brave in fighting on behalf of Cyrus, all the more should they be
courageous as they seek to save their own lives (..), and in concluding
his speech he points out that victory will not only deliver them from their
enemies but also benefit them materially since victors in war preserve their
own possessions and gain those of the conquered (..; cf. ..–,
..–).
Xenophon, however, not only broadly mirrors his native city’s deliber-
ative oratory in this speech but also draws on the rhetoric of its patriotic
funeral orations for the war dead (epitaphioi) and adapts this to his
Panhellenic audience of fellow mercenaries. As he rallies the troops to


Cf. Rood b: : “He addresses three different groups in turn (Proxenus’ men, the officers, and
the army as a whole), using slightly different rhetoric for the different audiences.”

On the salient role of arguments based on expedience before the Athenian Assembly, see Hunt
: – and Christ : –.

Ferrario (: ) suggests that this speech “is part battle-exhortation, part funerary oration.”
Although this speech draws on the tropes of battle exhortation speeches that are so familiar in Greek
historiography, it presents these within a deliberative framework, and, consistent with this, as we
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
act courageously against the Persians, he invokes Athens’ defeat of them at
Marathon and the collective Greek victory over them at Salamis and
Plataea (..–). While Xenophon betrays his Athenian origins in
highlighting Athens’ victory at Marathon and treating it at greater length
(..–) than the later shared Greek victories (..), he takes care to
attribute all these together to his audience’s ancestors (progonoi) when he
introduces and concludes this excursus (..,  bis). Indeed, just as the
speakers of the Athenian epitaphioi seek to unify their Athenian audiences
on the basis of their common ancestry and rouse them to valor by the
example of the achievements of these ancestors, Xenophon attributes a
common ancestry to his audience of Greek mercenaries and exhorts them
to emulate their noble progenitors (..). In Xenophon’s native Athens,
the appeal to a common ancestry of nobility among Athenians is unmis-
takably democratic since all Athenians share in this; his adaptation of this
ideal to his fellow Greek mercenaries likewise appeals to, and exploits, the
democratic idea that they all share a noble heritage to which they must
live up.
Consistent with this democratic elevation of the common soldier is
Xenophon’s appeal to his audience to rise to the challenge of the current
circumstances, in which the enemy expects them to be ruined by lack of
leadership and indiscipline:
So our present commanders must show themselves far more vigilant than
their predecessors, and the men in the ranks must be far more orderly and
more obedient to their commanders now than they used to be. We must
pass a resolution that if anyone is disobedient, whoever of you may be at
hand at the time shall join with the officer in punishing him. In this way the
enemy will find themselves mightily deceived; for today they will behold
not one but ten thousand Clearchuses, who will not allow anyone to be a
bad soldier. (..–)
Although Xenophon does not abandon here his belief in the importance of
leaders that he had highlighted in his speech before the generals and
captains (..), he offers the mass of soldiers an opportunity to place

shall see below in the text, the assembled soldiers are called on to vote on whether to accept
Xenophon’s advice. Tuplin (: ) observes that Xenophon includes only three battle harangues
(.., .., ..) in the entire Anabasis.

On the treatment of these episodes in the Attic funeral orations, see Loraux : –. On the
significance of the Persian Wars in the Anabasis, see Rood b: –, –; cf. Grethlein
: , .

Ziolkowski (: –) collects the references; cf. Loraux : –.

See Loraux : – and Lape : –.
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
themselves on the same level as their leaders by joining with them to
punish the disobedient. In declaring that the enemy in this case “will
behold not one Clearchus but ten thousand,” Xenophon equates the
soldiers with their strict deceased general and thus minimizes for the
moment the real distinctions between officers and the soldiers under them.
In addressing the Cyrean troops, Xenophon emerges not only as a skilled
democratic rhētōr who knows how to appeal effectively to a mass audience
but also as an adept popular politician who knows how to advance his
agenda by employing democratic mechanisms. Early in his speech, for
example, Xenophon both proposes a resolution and himself puts it to a
vote. When a man propitiously sneezes right after Xenophon expresses the
hope that the gods may look favorably on the Cyreans’ resistance to their
opponents, Xenophon proposes that the Cyreans vow to sacrifice to Zeus
the Savior and the other gods on their safe arrival in friendly territory, and
puts this to a vote: “‘Whoever is in favor of this resolution,’ he said, ‘let him
raise his hand.’ And they all raised their hands” (..). Later, when
Xenophon proposes that the assembled troops vote for a measure to improve
discipline (.., quoted above), the Spartan Cheirisophus picks up on
Xenophon’s earlier use of democratic process and puts this measure and
Xenophon’s other proposals to a popular vote: “‘Whoever is in favor of this
resolution, let him raise his hand.’ They all raised their hands” (..).
Here and on other occasions (.., ..), Xenophon proves himself so
persuasive a speaker and advisor that the troops cannot help but vote
unanimously in favor of what he advocates.
Xenophon also displays his familiarity with democratic procedure when,
in addressing the troops here, he twice invites anyone who wishes to speak
to do so – a hallmark of the Athenian Assembly where “anyone who
wishes” (ho boulomenos) can speak. In the first instance, he explicitly
extends this invitation to men of any rank, stating that “if any other plan is
thought better than mine, let anyone, even if he is a private soldier
(ho idiōtēs), be bold to present it; for our survival is the common concern
of all” (..; cf. ..). Later, with the democratic nature of this type of


On Xenophon’s piety in the Anabasis, see Haywood ; on the importance of piety in
Xenophon’s theory of leadership across his corpus, see Flower .

As Krüger (: –) notes, the Cyreans vote by show of hands, just as the Athenians do in
Assembly; on the Athenian practice, see Hansen : –.

On Xenophon’s remarkable success in the Anabasis, Cawkwell (: ) observes that “he seems
never to make a mistake. Both in counsel and in action, Xenophon was always right.” Cf. Rood
: ; Ferrario : .

See Hansen : .
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
offer already established, he simply states, “if anyone sees a better plan, let
him speak it”; and when no one steps forward, he proceeds to put the
matter to a democratic vote – “Whoever is in favor of these measures, let
him raise his hand” – and the proposal is carried (..; cf. ). Here and
elsewhere, Xenophon democratically invites popular participation in
debate but at no cost to pursuing his own agenda.
It is surely no accident that Xenophon the Athenian first addresses the
Cyrean masses at length and in democratic terms, first proposes measures
to them and puts these to the vote, and first calls on average soldiers to
speak before the Cyrean assembly if they wish. This transplanted Athe-
nian is intimately familiar with the challenges of mass decision-making and
knows how to work within a democratic framework to achieve his ends
through persuasive speech and democratic procedures. This does not mean
that Xenophon fully embraces democratic principles – his address to his
fellow members of the elite in which he appeals to them on the basis of
their superior status suggests otherwise (..–) – but rather that he
recognizes the power of the Cyrean masses and the general necessity of
winning their support to pursue his vision of the common good.
That Xenophon does not always feel bound to work within democratic
parameters is evident on one conspicuous occasion. When Xenophon
speaks to the soldiers and advises them to return to Greece from Trapezus
by land rather than by sea, the narrator reports:
At this the soldiers cried out, saying that there was no need to go by land.
Xenophon, realizing their foolishness (aphrosunēn), did not put anything to
a vote, but persuaded the cities [sc. in the region] to repair the roads
voluntarily, urging that they would be free of the army sooner if the roads
were easy to travel on. (..)


Cf. the similar invitation at Dem. ..: “If anyone has anything better to propose, let him speak
and advise.”

At ..–, after the narrator indicates that “the opportunity to speak was offered to anyone who
wished it (tōi boulomenōi)” in the discussion of a proposal to join up with Seuthes and many speak
in support of this, Xenophon – who favors the proposal (cf. ..–.., ..) – says, “If anyone
holds a contrary opinion, let him speak; if not I will put this to a vote”; when no one speaks in
opposition, Xenophon puts the matter to a vote and it is carried. Cf. .., where Xenophon, who
is defending himself before the Cyreans against the charge that he has deceived them, invites
skeptics to speak out, but no one steps forward.

By contrast, in the opening books Clearchus never addresses the massed Cyreans all together, just
his own troops (..–) – and this only when he fails to achieve his ends by force (..) – and
then a larger group of his troops, those of Xenias and Pasion, and any others who wish to listen
(..–, ); his speeches are brief as befits a Spartan and not conspicuously adapted to a mass
audience; and although he invites others to speak at one point (..) and several rise to speak of
their own accord, he has rigged the debate by arranging for his agents (..) to advance his agenda
through their speeches (.., ..–).
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
Interestingly, while Xenophon does not openly flout the will of the troops,
he circumvents their decision-making authority since he views this as
necessary and feasible under the circumstances. This episode suggests
that if Xenophon normally works through the Cyrean assembly, this is not
because he has unwavering respect for the wisdom of the masses but rather
because he has adapted pragmatically to the constraints of his political
circumstances.

Xenophon’s Forensic Oratory

If Xenophon the author envisions the army as a popular assembly that
requires advice and instruction from an effective rhētōr like Xenophon the
character, he also pictures it as a popular court in which Xenophon must
draw on his rhetorical skills to defend himself from the slanders and
charges for which he seems to be a magnet. While the Anabasis stops short
of presenting a mirror image of Athenian legal procedure and adjudication
in the three scenes in which Xenophon stands trial before the Cyreans, its
forensic stage evokes the Athenian popular courts. Like Athenian gen-
erals, who faced prosecution frequently in the popular courts, Xeno-
phon, as general, must defend himself before the mass of Cyreans and on
charges that would be very familiar to an Athenian audience: deception
of the people, hubris, and bribery. In each case, Xenophon deftly


Cf. Rood b: . Although Xenophon’s decision to circumvent the assembly of troops does
not entail outright deception of them, Xenophon’s Socrates allows for the possibility that a general
might need to deceive his own troops for their own good (Mem. ..); contrast Cyr. ..–,
where Xenophon limits the use of deception to gaining an advantage over enemies (see Hesk :
–).

I borrow the phrase “forensic stage” from Scafuro . Xenophon’s consciousness of, and interest
in, Athenian forensic practice is evident throughout his corpus, for example, in his presentation of
the “trial” of the Arginusae generals in the Hellenica (..–), of Socrates’ trial in his Apology, and
of Ischomachus’s mock trials in the Oeconomicus (.–). Note also how Xenophon offers advice
to cavalry commanders on the strategic use of the Athenian courts in his Cavalry Commander
(.–). This strong interest on Xenophon’s part likely lies behind his projection of an Athenian
forensic disposition onto the Persians in the Cyropaedia, where he maintains that Persian boys are
educated in large part by bringing charges against each other for offenses including theft, robbery,
assault, cheating, and slander before the officers in charge of them, who serve as judges (..–).
Cf. Xenophon’s interest in how leaders administer justice in a variety of settings (see Gray b:
–).

On the frequent prosecution and conviction of generals in Athens, see Hamel : –.
Xenophon alludes to this common occurrence in describing how Ischomachus, who practices
oratory at home in case he has to appear before an Athenian court, includes in his regimen
joining in the prosecution of a general (Oec. .).

As Tuplin (: ) observes, Xenophon gives his long apologiai in response to problematic
situations rather than in direct reply to specific critical speeches on the same scale.
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
maneuvers, as Athenian litigants do, by adapting his rhetoric to the
exigencies of winning over a mass audience. Although no formal verdict
is reported in any of these “trials,” it is clear in each case that Xenophon
has succeeded in fending off the malicious and unfair attacks on him.
Xenophon’s first trial revolves around the charge that he has deceived
the troops by seeking to trick them into sailing to Phasis to found a new
city (..). Although Xenophon had already disavowed in an assembly of
the troops any interest in pursuing his idea of founding a city and had
defended himself against the slander of Silanus that he was seeking to do
this without having persuaded the army (..–), the general Neon once
again raises this concern among the troops, prompting them to gather
angrily in groups and act as though they might resort to violence as on
earlier occasions (..–). Realizing that he might be executed without a
trial (cf. ..–), Xenophon hastily convenes an assembly to speak in
defense of himself (..). Rather than turn his defense into a prosecu-
tion of the generals who had recently approached him with the proposal to
found a new city (“Xenophon did not prosecute [katēgorei] the generals”)
(..), Xenophon seeks to defend himself against what he characterizes as
slander (..). In speaking of the charge against him, Xenophon repeat-
edly refers to it as “deception” of the troops – a charge that recalls that of
“deception of the dēmos” in Athens, which Xenophon speaks of in his
Hellenica (..). The heart of Xenophon’s defense is a series of
arguments based on likelihood, a favorite argument in the Athenian
courts; he could not possibly have sought to trick the troops into sailing
to Phasis since this would have been foolhardy – one could not deceive the
troops into sailing east rather than west, and even if Xenophon were to
succeed in such a deception, he would inevitably be found out and
punished when the troops found themselves in Phasis rather than in
Greece (..–). The absurd charge against him, Xenophon asserts, arises


These defense trials figure prominently in Xenophon’s broader efforts throughout the Anabasis to
justify his behavior during the expedition. Tuplin (: –) aptly observes of the Anabasis’
narration of Xenophon’s life history: “The closest [texts] would be the real or fictive law court
apologiai of Andocides On the Mysteries, Isocrates Antidosis or Demosthenes On the Crown.” On
Xenophon’s self-justification in these speeches, see Rood b: –.

Tuplin (: , ) observes that only here is agora used in the Anabasis to mean “assembly,”
and examines the possible Homeric resonances of this.

Likewise, Athenian litigants regularly protest the slanders leveled against them: see, e.g., Lys. .,
, , , –, .

Xenophon uses the verb exapataō seven times in his speech (.., , , , ,  bis; cf. ..).

On the Athenian charge of apatē tou dēmou, see Christ  and Hesk : –. Lendle (:
) notes the parallel with Athenian practice.

On the eikos argument, see Gagarin : –.
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
from the jealousy of those who envy the honor he receives from the
soldiers; but this is unfair, as Xenophon would never stand in the way of
anyone seeking to serve the best interests of the troops (..). Consistent
with this populist stance, Xenophon proceeds democratically to invite
anyone present to speak if he finds the charge against him plausible: “If
anyone among you supposes either that he could be deceived himself by
such tales, or could deceive another by them, let him speak and instruct”
(..). No one steps forward, however, and no formal vote is taken;
the trial abruptly ends without a verdict, as Xenophon successfully turns
the troops’ attention away from judging him and toward deliberating over
what he characterizes as a crisis in discipline in the army (..).
Xenophon’s second trial, in which he faces a charge of hubris, has
more formal features of a judicial hearing and these point to an Athenian
model. After the assembly of the troops passes a resolution that the
generals should each undergo a trial (dikēn huposchein) concerning his
past conduct – a procedure, as noted above, that recalls the euthunai that
all outgoing officials are subject to in democratic Athens – and the
assembled troops condemn and fine three of their generals, “Certain
men prosecuted (katēgorēsan) Xenophon, alleging that they were struck
by him, and they made their prosecution on the grounds that he was
guilty of hubris” (..). The allegation of hubris, on which the
ensuing trial focuses (.., ; cf. , ), stems from Xenophon’s
ready use of force against recalcitrant and disobedient soldiers, which
he defends as justified under the circumstances. The care with which
Xenophon addresses the charge of hubris suggests that for the Cyrean
masses, as for a democratic Athenian audience, hubris connotes an
arrogant act of violence that is particularly sensitive when perpetrated
by a member of the elite against a social inferior.
Xenophon begins his defense by cross-examining his first accuser with a
series of questions to ascertain the specifics of the charge, in a process that
recalls the erōtēsis to which litigants sometimes had recourse in the


Cf. Din. ..

For the argument that this trial is held before the assembled troops, see above, note .

Grethlein (: –) observes that the narrator had briefly treated these challenging
circumstances at .. and that Xenophon’s speech here is an analepsis that “fleshes out the
summary of the main narrative”; cf. Ferrario : –.

On the nuances of hubris for an Athenian audience, see Ober : –; MacDowell :
–; Fisher : –. Although Athenian litigants could bring a public suit for hubris (graphē
hubreōs), it may have been more common for them to complain of hubris while bringing a suit
under a different rubric (see Christ : –). Lendle (: ) compares the hubris charge
against Xenophon with its Athenian analog.
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
Athenian courts. Xenophon first inquires as to the general situation of
the army when he struck his accuser, and when the man replies that this
was when the army was in dire straits due to the cold and a huge amount of
snow, Xenophon points out that it was improbable that he had the energy
to act hubristically at a time when the entire army was beleaguered and
exhausted (..). When Xenophon proceeds to ask his accuser why he
was struck – “Was it in a fight over a boy? Was it an act of drunken
violence” (..–; cf. ..) – he proposes possible contexts for hubris
that would be familiar to an Athenian audience from the popular courts.
Finally, Xenophon offers his own vivid account of what prompted him to
strike his opponent: he had caught his accuser, whom he had ordered to
carry a sick soldier, attempting to bury the man while he was still alive
(..–). Xenophon’s startling revelation evokes an outcry from his
jurors, as it might too in an Athenian court, that he had given the accuser
fewer blows than he deserved (..). When Xenophon invites his
other accusers to explain why he hit them, no one rises up, and he proceeds
to explain that he only struck men whose behavior threatened the common
good or their own individual survival (..–).
To bolster his argument that he only struck men when this was called
for, Xenophon calls on his jurors themselves as witnesses, as Athenian
litigants sometimes do:
But that I justly struck those men, you rendered judgment yourselves; for
you stood by, holding swords, not ballots, and it was within your power to
come to their aid if you chose; but, by Zeus, you would neither give these
men aid nor would you join with me in striking anyone who was disorderly
[cf. ..–]. Consequently, you gave the bad among them license to act
with hubris by letting them alone. (..–)
Xenophon not only appeals to his jurors as witnesses but also scolds them
for their past errors while holding out the possibility of rectifying these by
taking appropriate action in the current case – a rhetorical tack Athenian
orators also sometimes take with their mass audiences. Xenophon

 
On erōtēsis in the Athenian courts, see Carawan . See esp. Lys. .

On the conspicuous role of narrative in Athenian forensic oratory, see Johnstone : –.

On the routine vocal participation (thorubos) of jurors in Athenian courts, see esp. Bers .

Xenophon’s defense of his approach to discipline suggests that he has found the right balance
between the harshness of Clearchus (.., ) and the laxness of Proxenus (..–) (see Flower
: ; cf. Grethlein : ).

For jurors as “witnesses,” see Is. .; Dem. ., .; Ober : –; Christ : .

See, e.g., Dem. .–; on this tactic, see Ober : –. Note also that Xenophon pictures
his jurors, like Athenian jurors, voting with “ballots” (psēphoi); on the Athenian practice, see Todd
: –.
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
concludes, as Athenian defendants often do, by appealing to his listeners to
recall his many good deeds and services to them (..–; cf. ..,
quoted below). The narrator reports that “then people began getting up
and recalling past incidents, and all turned out well” (..), bringing this
trial scene to an end.
Xenophon’s third trial takes place near the end of the Anabasis when he
finds himself facing a charge of bribery. The narrator reports that one of
the Arcadians rose to prosecute (katēgorēsōn) Xenophon (..), alleging
that “Seuthes has enriched him personally while he deprives us of our
wage” and suggesting that Xenophon deserves to be stoned to death as
punishment (..–); two speakers in succession rise up to support the
Arcadian accuser, as sunēgoroi might in an Athenian court. The precise
charge against Xenophon is not clear at first. As Xenophon rebuts it, he
dismisses the possibility that he took money belonging to the mass of
troops (.., ) and that he has thereby wrongly appropriated public
funds – a practice that Cheirisophus identified earlier as routine among
Athenian politicians (..; cf. HG ..). Instead, he focuses on what he
claims is the more plausible scenario, namely, that Seuthes had paid
Xenophon a smaller sum than he owed the troops, so as to avoid paying
them a larger amount, a charge that Xenophon speaks of as bribery
(edōrodokoun) (..), a familiar Athenian charge against those active in
public life, including generals. He rebuts this charge by inviting the
Cyreans to demand from Seuthes, who is present, the money he owes
them since this would render the alleged bribe fruitless and lead Seuthes to
demand his money back from Xenophon.
Most of Xenophon’s speech, however, is devoted to defending his
character and his behavior toward the troops not only in the immediate
past but also since he became one of the generals, as he seeks to demon-
strate that he deserves the Cyreans’ gratitude (charis) (.., cf. ) for his
many services to them and not the threat of a sentence of death. In
adopting this strategy, Xenophon resembles Athenian defendants who
place great emphasis on their good character and services to the city and


On appeals for charis in the Athenian courts, see Christ : –, with earlier bibliography.

On sunēgoroi in the Athenian courts, see Rubinstein .

On the charge of dōrodokia in Athens, see MacDowell ; Harvey ; Strauss ; Taylor
a, b. Azoulay (a: ) notes the Athenian parallel.

Azoulay (a: ) argues on the basis of .. that Xenophon admits he received hospitality
presents from Seuthes, but Flower (: –) persuasively refutes this.

On the role of “ingratitude” in Xenophon’s speeches of self-justification in the Anabasis, see Rood
b: .
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
on this basis seek charis from jurors in the form of a favorable verdict.
Indeed, Xenophon concludes his speech by making an impassioned appeal
to his mass audience to be mindful of the injustice they will be committing
if they do not show charis to their loyal supporter and benefactor:
If you do what you are proposing, know that you will have slain a man who
has passed many sleepless nights for your sake, who has endured many toils
and dangers (ponēsanta kai kinduneusanta) with you, both when it was his
duty and when it was not, who has also, by the graciousness of the gods, set
up with you many trophies of victory over the barbarians and who, in order
to prevent your becoming enemies to anyone among the Greeks, has exerted
himself to the very utmost of his power in opposition to you. (..)
Xenophon’s language here recalls appeals for charis in Athenian forensic
oratory: he bases his claim, as Athenian litigants often do, on the dangers
that he has endured for the group. When Xenophon concludes his
speech, Charminus the Lacedaemonian rises to speak in his support
(..) as an Athenian sunēgoros might, and then two more speakers
address how they might get their wages from Seuthes and his corrupt
sidekick Heracleides (..–). As in the earlier two trials, the narrator
reports no formal verdict but makes it clear that Xenophon has persuaded
the masses of his innocence and won his case.

Xenophon’s success as a leader of the Cyreans reflects not only his

adeptness as a rhētōr who knows what to say and how to say it to the
troops in their different guises as assembly and popular court but also his
political canniness in controlling, as best he can, the circumstances under
which he addresses the troops. Thus, as we have seen, Xenophon works
behind the scenes to win over Proxenus’ captains (..–, –) and
then the hundred or so surviving generals and captains of the Cyreans
(..–) before he ventures to address the assembled Cyreans for the
first time (..–, –). And when Xenophon sees the soldiers
meeting in groups and getting angry because of the rumor that he intends
to lead them to Phasis rather than Greece, he prudently seizes control of
the situation by assembling the troops and addressing them (..–) – a


On the prominent role of character in Athenian defense speeches, see Johnstone : – and
Lanni : –. On appeals for charis in Athenian forensic oratory, see above, note .

See, e.g., Lys. .. On the role of dangers endured in appeals for charis, see Christ : –.
Xenophon’s summary of his contributions to the Cyrean community here not only is appropriate to
the immediate context of the trial but serves as a sort of coda to the Anabasis.

Cf. Timasion’s advice to the generals not to convene an assembly of troops but to seek to persuade
their captains first (..).
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
prerogative Xenophon and the other Cyrean generals share with Athenian
generals, who can request that the Assembly meet. Xenophon shows
similar political shrewdness when, after his bribery defense speech, he
delegates to Polycrates the Athenian, a crony (cf. .., ..,
..–), the dirty work of urging the troops to seize Heracleides,
Seuthes’ henchman, on the grounds that he has stolen money owed to
the troops for their efforts (..).
Xenophon’s depiction of himself as an adept rhētōr and canny politician
in the Anabasis recalls Thucydides’ portrayal of Pericles in his Histories.
Thucydides’ Pericles, like the Anabasis’ Xenophon, is distinguished by his
ability to both speak and act (..; cf. X. An. ..); controls strate-
gically the circumstances under which Assemblies are convened (..,
..; cf. X. An. ..–); and stands ready to oppose the will of the
masses as needed (.–, .–; cf. X. An. .., quoted above). And,
notwithstanding his unwavering commitment to the common good, Per-
icles, like Xenophon, finds himself under attack by the masses when all
does not go well. In his third and final speech in the Histories, Pericles
defends himself and his leadership after plague and the hardships of war
have turned the dēmos against him:
And yet I, with whom you are angry, am as competent as any man, I think,
both to determine on the right measures and to expound them, and as good
a patriot (philopolis) and superior to the influence of money. For he who
determines on a policy, but fails to lay it clearly before others, is in the same
case as if he never had a conception of it; and he who has both gifts, but is
disloyal to his city, cannot speak with the same unselfish devotion; and if he
has loyalty also, but a loyalty that cannot resist money, then for that alone
everything will be on sale. (..–)
Xenophon portrays himself in the Anabasis as displaying these ideal
leadership qualities to which Pericles lays claim: he is not only knowledge-
able but also an effective rhētōr who can express what he knows; he is
utterly loyal to the Cyrean troops; and, as his victory in his final trial
shows, he is above bribery.


See Hansen : .

The narrator says of Polycrates that he was “induced” (enetos) by Xenophon to speak; Clearchus
also makes strategic use of collaborating speakers (..). On the usefulness of having agents
speak in one’s place, see Cyr. .. and Hier. .–; cf. Mem. .. On the general importance of
the support of friends in politics, see Mem. .. and ...

See Rood b: , –, and : , ; Flower : .

Xenophon likewise resembles Pericles when he exhorts the Cyrean troops to remain unified in the
face of adversity for honor and survival (..–), a message Pericles conveys passionately to the
disheartened Athenians in his final speech before them in the Histories (..–, ..–).
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
If Xenophon is consciously invoking Thucydides’ Pericles as a model for
his leadership of the Cyrean masses in the Anabasis – which seems quite
possible in light of his intimate familiarity with the work of his predeces-
sor, whose Histories he continues in his own Hellenica – he may also aspire
to portray his sway over the Cyrean masses as similar to that of Pericles
over the Athenian dēmos. Thucydides asserts with approbation that while
Pericles led Athens it was a democracy in name but in fact under the rule
of its foremost citizen (..). Xenophon plays a similarly dominant role
in the quasi-democratic environment of the Cyrean army, and in so doing
provides effective leadership in pursuit of the common good. Although
Pericles and Xenophon cannot change the parameters of their political
circumstances and face considerable challenges, each succeeds in leading
the masses through a combination of rhetorical ability and political
shrewdness. Arguably, in fact, Xenophon surpasses Pericles because he
successfully leads not fellow citizens but a mass of troops from many
different city-states and with divergent interests. His ability to succeed in
this setting – and in numerous instances even to win unanimous assent
from the Cyrean assembly and popular court through his persuasive
powers – marks him out as a truly exceptional leader.

If Xenophon views his experience with the Cyreans through a distinctly

Athenian lens in the Anabasis, this text may tell us as much about how an
elite Athenian comprehends and interprets the world around him as it does
about the march of the Cyreans through the Persian Empire. Although
modern scholars have been attentive to the fact that Xenophon’s personal
biases and apologetic agenda may affect what he includes in his account,
they have not sufficiently appreciated how his Athenian perspective may
fundamentally shape his narrative, from his presentation of the sociopolit-
ical dynamics and institutions of the Cyrean troops to his portrayal of his
own role in leading them. This interpretation of the Anabasis problema-
tizes its use as a historical source, especially for reconstructing how the
Cyreans interacted with one another and made decisions together on their
march and for assessing Xenophon’s role as leader. One may reasonably
suspect, for example, that the Cyreans acted less like the Athenian dēmos in
the Assembly and popular courts than the Anabasis suggests and that
Xenophon acted less like an Athenian rhētōr in his interactions with them
than his account indicates.
Although this reading casts doubt on the historicity of elements of
Xenophon’s account, it may yield valuable evidence of another kind,
namely, concerning Xenophon’s vision of how elite individuals can induce
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
the masses to make good decisions and collaborate in carrying these out. As
we have seen, Xenophon explicitly addresses this question as a pressing one
for the Athenian democracy in his Athenian works. The Anabasis consid-
erably enriches our understanding of Xenophon’s perspective on the traits
and skills that an elite leader must have to succeed in a setting where
authority lies ultimately with the masses. It not only shows how Xeno-
phon, as a deft leader, puts the principles of successful elite leadership of
the masses into action but also elaborates on the importance of rhetoric
and persuasion for this as it shows Xenophon succeeding as leader in large
part because he is a masterful orator.
Several features of Xenophon’s perspective on elite leadership of the
masses in the Anabasis are noteworthy. First and fundamentally, Xeno-
phon emphatically endorses political engagement and leadership on the
part of the elite. The Anabasis’ Xenophon provides a model of determined
engagement from his dramatic initial decision to step forward and lead
after the seizure of the generals through his trials, figurative and literal, as a
general of the Cyreans; his own survival and that of the other Cyreans
depends on his willingness to assume the role of leader and to carry
through on this despite all challenges. This is consistent with Xeno-
phon’s advocacy elsewhere of political engagement on the part of the elite
within the Athenian democracy, for example, when his Socrates prods
Charmides to overcome his shyness and put himself forward as rhētōr
before the Athenian Assembly (Mem. ..–), and when he presents
Ischomachus as a model gentleman who is self-sufficient on his well-run
estate but prepared to serve the city in various capacities, including as
public prosecutor in the courts and speaker in the Assembly (Oec.
.–). Elite political engagement is essential, Xenophon suggests, not
only on the grounds of expedience – this allows elite individuals to advance
their own interests and the common good simultaneously – but also
because this is the right and proper course for the elite to take as members
of a community; as Xenophon puts it in his speech before the assembled
captains and generals, the privileges that they enjoy as members of an elite
oblige them to make superior contributions to the community as leaders
(An. ..–; cf. Mem. ..).
Second, Xenophon not only advocates political engagement in the
Anabasis but also offers his readers guidance on how to exercise leadership


Howland (: ; cf. Higgins : –, ; Buzzetti : , –) is too pessimistic in
his assessment that “[t]he Anabasis, like the Republic, lets us see the limits of politics.” For criticism
of Howland’s Straussian reading of the Anabasis, see Rood : –.
 Xenophon the Democratic Orator
in a setting in which the masses hold the ultimate political authority. The
Anabasis shows through its portrayal of Xenophon how a skilled leader can
navigate popular institutions in which common soldiers deliberate and
adjudicate by deploying rhetoric effectively and thereby seek what he
believes to be in the community’s best interest; in so doing, it suggests
that persuasion is key to effective leadership of the masses not only within a
democratic city but also in a military camp where common soldiers must
be won over by their leaders. Notably, Xenophon is highly pragmatic in
using rhetoric to achieve his ends, adapting it as necessary, as we have seen,
to win over elite and popular audiences. Although Xenophon does not
comment explicitly on this flexibility, one may infer from his success in
persuading diverse audiences to join in the pursuit of the common good
that this is a natural and necessary accommodation to the audiences that he
addresses and justified by his need to elicit their willing participation and
cooperation in joint ventures.
Third, Xenophon presents an optimistic picture of the efficacy of
controlling the masses and guiding their decisions, notwithstanding the
substantial challenges and risks that this may entail for a leader, and some
assurance that it is possible to keep one’s community on track in pursuing
the common good while seeking the personal honor that members of the
elite naturally pursue (cf. .., ..; Mem. ..). In representing
leadership of the masses as a feasible, if challenging, endeavor and one that
bears rewards for both elite leader and community, Xenophon offers his
elite readers an attractive picture of productive engagement with the
community at large and the positive consequences of this. Elsewhere,
too, Xenophon suggests that leadership entails toil and hardship but pro-
duces benefits for the leader and his community that fully warrant the
sacrifices that are required (Mem. ..–).
Although Xenophon sets forth principles for effective elite leadership of
the masses more explicitly elsewhere, his Anabasis vividly shows how
Xenophon himself puts these principles into action as leader of the
Cyreans. While Xenophon’s positive portrayal of himself no doubt serves
multiple purposes including apologetic ones as he casts his participation in
a mercenary expedition in a favorable light, it also confirms, and elaborates
on, the vision he lays out elsewhere for elite leaders within the Athenian
democracy. Xenophon’s elite Athenian audience might well take pleasure


Thucydides, by contrast, seems more pessimistic about leaders keeping the masses under control,
to judge from his portrayal of the deficiencies of Pericles’ successors (..–); cf. Ober :
–.
 Xenophon the Democratic Rhētōr 
in this account of how one of their own could successfully navigate the
politics of mass and elite outside the city, and aspire to do the same by
emulating him in carrying out their own political roles within the city. If
Xenophon, as an exile from his city for much of his adult life, could not
personally put these lessons into practice in Athens, his elite Athenian
audience could.
 Conclusions
Elite Readers, Elite Citizens

This study has argued that Xenophon seeks to educate his elite Athenian
readers concerning their critical political role within democratic Athens
and that he pursues this project in diverse ways in his writings. Xenophon’s
profound interest in this topic may have its origins in the turmoil that he
witnessed in Athens in the final decade of the fifth century and that he
recounts in the opening books of the Hellenica. Xenophon’s presentation
of the Arginusae affair () makes it clear that in his view the success of
the Athenian democracy depends largely on the quality of its elite leaders,
on whose advice and guidance the dēmos relies. Although Xenophon’s
narrative of the events of / suggests that he is sympathetic with those
who sought to replace democracy with a moderate oligarchy, his negative
depiction of the reign of the Thirty, which turned out to be far from
moderate, and his favorable portrayal of the restored democracy indicate
that he does not regard constitutional change as realistic or even desirable
for Athens. In light of this, the question of the political role of the city’s
elite takes on a special urgency for Xenophon: If the democratic city
cannot prosper without good elite leadership, how can the Athenian elite
lead responsibly and effectively?
Xenophon addresses this question from a variety of vantage points in his
corpus. In his Socratic writings, Xenophon depicts his Socrates working
tirelessly to challenge destructive elite attitudes and behaviors and to mold
his elite interlocutors into men who can lead the democracy successfully.
The Memorabilia casts Socrates as an educator who seeks to produce as
many competent politicians as possible from among his elite companions
by showing them the often deep gulf between their ambition to lead the
city and their preparation to do so. In his conversations with elite Athe-
nians, Socrates pointedly critiques the assumption that wealth or lineage
qualifies a man to lead the city and insists on the importance of education
in producing men who have the values, knowledge, and skills needed to
lead. A true gentleman (kalos kagathos) according to Socrates is

 Conclusions 
distinguished from others not by wealth or family but by his pursuit of an
education that makes him worthy to lead the city.
In the Oeconomicus, Xenophon offers a complementary perspective on
what makes a real gentleman, by considering how an elite Athenian
should manage his estate (oikos) and his daily activities not only to
improve his personal circumstances but also to enhance his ability to
contribute to the city. Xenophon’s Socrates relates a conversation
between himself and Ischomachus, whom he presents as a consummate
kalos kagathos. Ischomachus, unlike many of his elite peers, recognizes
that the continuous production of wealth is fundamental to maintaining
not only his lifestyle but his status in the city including as a civic
benefactor, and therefore embraces a work ethic as farmer, estate
manager, and entrepreneur that will augment his wealth. In carrying
out his daily activities, moreover, Ischomachus prepares himself to serve
the city as hoplite, cavalryman, litigant, and even leader since his man-
agement of the oikos, as a polis in miniature, allows him to develop skills
that can be applied to leading the city.
Xenophon’s Symposium shows Socrates pursuing his mission of trans-
forming the city’s elite into worthy leaders even amid the distractions of a
dinner party hosted by Callias. Socrates, aided by Antisthenes, exposes the
deficiencies of Callias’ expensive sophistic training and seeks to educate
him concerning his proper political role within the city. While Callias’
great wealth and high birth qualify him by traditional standards to be
called a gentleman, he does not merit this name by Socratic standards since
he has neglected to prepare himself to lead the city. Socrates urges Callias,
who is consumed by his passion for his boy-love Autolycus, to redirect his
energies toward learning what made the city’s great leaders of the past
successful so that he can become qualified to seek leadership positions, and
to cultivate an enduring friendship (philia) with Autolycus that is based on
a mutual and honorable ambition to achieve distinction within the city.
Whereas Xenophon in his Socratic works deploys Socrates to set forth
the political responsibilities of the Athenian elite, in his Hipparchicus and
Poroi he offers expert advice in his own voice directly to his readers
concerning how they can succeed in playing specific leadership roles. In
Hipparchicus, Xenophon instructs his readers not only on how to carry out
the basic duties of a cavalry commander but also on how to deal with the
social and political challenges of this office. In Poroi, he outlines an
ambitious program of financial reform for the city and presents arguments
in favor of implementing this and, in so doing, models for his elite reader
how a public speaker could go about persuading the Athenian Assembly to
 Conclusions
embrace changes that would improve the situation of Athenians at home
and abroad.
Xenophon adopts yet another approach to advising his elite readers on
their political role within the democracy in presenting himself as a suc-
cessful leader of a band of Greek mercenaries in the Anabasis. Although
Xenophon’s leadership of the Cyreans is far removed from his native
Athens geographically, his success hinges largely on his ability to adapt
the role of an Athenian democratic rhētōr to his new surroundings.
Xenophon finds himself in a political situation that recalls that of his
native Athens where successful elite leadership demands, above all, the
ability to address and win over mass audiences through effective rhetoric.
Indeed, Xenophon’s mastery of rhetoric enables him to interact success-
fully with the Cyrean masses in settings reminiscent of the Athenian
Assembly and courts, and ultimately to lead them safely out of the Persian
Empire. The Anabasis, viewed in this light, not only memorializes Xeno-
phon’s successes as a general of a mercenary force but also validates, and
elaborates on, the principles of effective leadership of the masses that
Xenophon sets forth in his explicitly Athenian works.
It is easy for Xenophon’s modern reader to miss the significance of his
educational mission in its historic context. Although Xenophon’s advice
to his readers to seek out an education that will give them the values,
knowledge, and skills to lead the democracy competently may seem
rather obvious, the disastrous reign of the Thirty, which many elite
Athenians had supported, made this advice timely and important. The
Thirty, as Xenophon portrays them, were not only morally depraved but
politically incompetent, and their elite supporters might well benefit
from both moral and political instruction concerning their role under
the restored democracy. When Xenophon insists that a gentleman is
made not by wealth or ancestry but rather by the pursuit of an education
that will make him worthy to lead the city, he rebukes the arrogance of
elite Athenians who confused economic and social distinction with
political merit and exhorts his elite peers to transform themselves into
principled and qualified leaders.
If Xenophon’s vision of the proper political role of the elite within the
democratic city derives ultimately from Socrates, as his Socratic works
suggest, his promulgation of this to the Athenian elite through his diverse
writings is his own distinct achievement. Whereas Xenophon’s Socrates
seeks to improve the city one individual at a time through his conversa-
tions, Xenophon ambitiously endeavors to persuade the presumably
numerous members of his elite Athenian reading audience to exert
 Conclusions 
themselves to become capable leaders of the city. If his message for the elite
is relatively straightforward, his presentation of it is creative and varied, as
he deploys his Socrates to convey this in his Socratic works, instructs his
readers in his own voice on how to carry out specific leadership roles in his
Hipparchicus and Poroi, and offers himself up as a model statesman and
rhētōr in the Anabasis. Indeed, Xenophon’s efforts to address his elite
Athenian peers and to engage them in leading the democracy competently
are distinctive and set him apart from contemporary elite writers in Athens,
none of whom takes up this mission as directly and persistently as he does.

A close reading of Xenophon’s communications with his elite Athenian

readers not only illuminates his efforts to educate them concerning their
political role and responsibilities under the restored democracy but also
clarifies his perspective on the Athenian democracy and the place of the
elite within it. Although Xenophon, like many of his elite peers, may have
been drawn to support the oligarchic Thirty, he came to accept the city’s
democratic constitution and became a strong advocate of the elite working
within it to advance the common good. Indeed, Xenophon promotes good
citizenship on the part of the Athenian elite in many forms through his
writings. He envisions the elite serving the democratic city not only as
hoplites, cavalrymen, liturgists, and payers of the war tax but also in key
leadership roles as public speakers, hipparchs, and generals.
That Xenophon is not an avid democrat, however, is evident from his
critical depiction of fundamental democratic institutions. In his portrayal
of the Arginusae episode, for example, Xenophon paints an unattractive
picture of the dēmos in the Assembly and implicates the Council in the
unjust condemnation of the generals (HG ..–, –). Elsewhere,
he suggests that a hipparch, if he is to succeed, will need to have agents in
the Council who can appease its anger should the need arise (Eq. Mag.
.). Xenophon also expresses concern about the city’s legal apparatus and,
in particular, the ability of sykophants to victimize the elite through
litigation, or the threat of it, before the popular courts (HG ..).
Xenophon may be a reformed oligarch, but this does not make him an
enthusiastic democrat.
Xenophon supports the democratic city not because he admires its
institutions but rather because he sees no good alternative to democracy
in Athens and is committed to the success and prosperity of his commu-
nity. The failure of elite opponents of the democracy to alter its constitu-
tion permanently in / meant that Athens would remain a democracy
for the foreseeable future, and the civil strife that ensued from the excesses
 Conclusions
of the Thirty highlighted how large a stake all citizens had in the city’s
political stability and harmony. It is in this context that Xenophon exhorts
his elite Athenian readers to prepare themselves to provide the leadership
that the democratic city sorely needs from them.
Notably, Xenophon appeals to Athens’ elite to step forward and lead the
democracy responsibly on the basis not only of the common good but of
their own interests. Elite Athenians, he posits, have much to gain from
seeking positions of leadership within the city and carrying these out
successfully: this will win them honor and distinction from their fellow
citizens, and they will be in a position to help their friends and family
members. Consistent with this is the advice of Xenophon’s Socrates that
true gentlemen should collaborate and cooperate with one another to
acquire political power within the city so as to be in a position to protect
and advance their own interests while simultaneously pursuing the com-
mon good (Mem. ..–). Although Socrates imagines gentlemen work-
ing together to advance their interests within a democratic framework and
is not advocating oligarchic revolution, this vision of the political role of
the elite within the democracy does not jibe well with that advanced in
democratic ideology, which acknowledged the distinctive role of elite
citizens in leading the city but insisted on their subservience to the dēmos
and its interests (Ober ).
If Xenophon views it as incumbent on elite Athenians to lead the
democratic city for the common good and their own benefit as well,
however, he insists that they must make themselves worthy of leading.
They must set aside their arrogant assumption that as gentlemen on the
basis of wealth or birth they are qualified to lead the city, and seek out an
education that will make them true gentlemen who have the values,
knowledge, and skills that will enable them to lead effectively. While
Xenophon is no doubt elitist in identifying his elite peers as the natural
pool from which the city’s leaders will be drawn and in seeing the
democracy as absolutely dependent on elite leadership, his emphasis on
merit rather than superficial class markers as the basis for political leader-
ship is of great importance. Xenophon’s satirical depiction of members of
the elite who think they deserve to lead the city solely on the basis of their
class attributes suggests that he is working to overcome entrenched
assumptions on the part of his elite readers and to induce them to seek
an education that will give them a moral and political foundation for
leading well.
Xenophon does not pretend that it will be easy for his elite readers to
transform themselves in this way, but he holds out the promise that those
 Conclusions 
who strive to do so will achieve prominence in the city and benefit
themselves, their friends, and their community. In promulgating this
message through his writings, Xenophon offers his Athenian peers an
appealing and compelling framework for understanding their political role
under the democracy and emulates his Socrates, who serves the democratic
city by seeking to produce as many competent leaders as possible for it.

It is natural to wonder whether Xenophon’s communications with his elite

peers may provide evidence not only of his educational mission and
political vantage point but also of how elite Athenians viewed themselves
and their relationship to the city under the fourth-century democracy.
Since we have only Xenophon’s writings and not his audience’s responses
to these, we can only speculate on how they might resonate with his
Athenian peers, but there is reason to believe that Xenophon is attuned
to their attitudes, concerns, and aspirations and is responsive to these.
If we were to attempt to sketch a profile of elite Athenians on the basis
of Xenophon’s exhortations and appeals to his readers, we might do so
along the following lines. Xenophon’s elite Athenians are acutely conscious
of the attributes that set them apart from average citizens and are grappling
with the question of what role, if any, they should play within the
democracy. On the one hand, they are drawn to honor and ambitious to
acquire this by achieving distinction in public life; on the other hand, they
are conscious of the challenges this entails and aware that forgoing political
aspirations and focusing on private concerns is a real option. Although
they understand that men of their class have exceptional opportunities to
lead the democracy and to work for the common good, they are eager to
protect and pursue their own personal and financial interests and are alert
to how their civic roles may impinge on, or advance, these.
Xenophon’s elite Athenians are not enemies of the democracy who seek
to overthrow it, but they are wary of the vacillations of the dēmos and
conscious of their vulnerability to the popular will as expressed through the
Assembly, Council, and popular courts. The pressing issue for them is not
whether they should fully embrace democracy, but how to flourish within
a democratic polity whose institutions are unlikely to change substantially.
While Xenophon’s elite Athenians must decide as individuals whether
to compete to lead the city as orators, hipparchs, and generals, they can
draw on their networks of elite friends in the pursuit of political power and
influence. Philia is important to them not only in personal life but in
political life, where like-minded members of the elite can collaborate and
cooperate to gain and maintain positions of political prominence. Elite
 Conclusions
Athenians enjoy a competitive advantage over average citizens in the
political sphere, and it is only natural for them to make the most of this
to exercise political influence within the democracy (cf. Mem. ..–).
Although one could argue that Xenophon creates his elite readers in his
own image and that his assumptions concerning them tell us more about
him than his elite contemporaries, this does not appear to be the case. The
glimpses that we get of the Athenian elite in other sources are broadly
consistent with what Xenophon takes for granted in addressing his elite
readers. In particular, Xenophon’s direct appeals to elite interests seem well
tailored to his elite Athenian peers to judge from their attitudes and
behaviors as documented elsewhere.
That elite Athenians were highly attuned to their self-interests and
concerned to protect and pursue these even in civic life is evident, for
example, from how wealthy Athenians responded strategically to the city’s
requirement that they carry out expensive liturgies. They routinely con-
cealed their wealth to avoid initial assignment to liturgies by the city’s
officials and to discourage other wealthy men from seeking to transfer their
obligations to them through the antidosis procedure. While this sort of
behavior was at odds with the democratic ideal that citizens should eagerly
serve the city with person and property, from the perspective of elite
Athenians concealment of wealth was a prudent measure to protect their
assets and their families, who relied on these. Although some wealthy
Athenians may have taken such steps because of their opposition to, and
resentment of, the democracy, most probably did so simply to reduce large
expenditures that could diminish their fortunes over time and with this
their status and ability to enjoy an elite lifestyle (Christ : –).
So too in the legal sphere we find elite Athenians strategically pursuing
their self-interests. The substantial body of forensic oratory that survives
from democratic Athens attests to how readily elite Athenians deployed
litigation, and the threat of it, against their elite peers in pursuit of their
personal and financial interests while often insisting that they were simul-
taneously defending the democracy’s laws and advancing its interests.
Indeed, elite litigants see no inherent contradiction between serving them-
selves and the city at the same time (Christ : –).
When Xenophon communicates with his self-interested elite peers
about their political role within the democracy, he thus naturally appeals
to them to step forward to lead the democracy not only on patriotic
grounds but also because they can protect and advance their own interests
in doing so. Xenophon’s open and unabashed communication of this
message reflects the license he enjoys as an elite Athenian addressing other
 Conclusions 
members of his class through the medium of writing. In this context,
nothing hinders Xenophon from acknowledging elite self-interests and
seeking to harness these to induce his readers to step forward to lead the
democratic city.
Xenophon’s freedom to speak bluntly in his intra-elite communications
stands in contrast to the evident constraints on elite speakers addressing
mass audiences in forensic and deliberative oratory. As Josiah Ober ()
demonstrates in his classic study of the social and political dynamics of
Attic oratory, elite Athenians were under considerable pressure to assure
their mass audiences that they subordinated their private interests to those
of the city and deployed their elite attributes – wealth, high birth, and
education – to serve the city. Ober (: –) proposes that elite
speakers were not merely paying lip service to democratic ideology, but
I suspect that many were doing precisely this. For such men, rhetoric was a
tool to be deployed to win a suit before a popular law court or the passage
of a decree in the Assembly, and deference to the dēmos and its democratic
ideology was expedient toward these ends. It was clearly in the interest of
elite speakers in these contexts to downplay their pursuit of their self-
interests and submerge their elitism.
If Xenophon’s self-interested elite readers are not ultimately distinct
from the elite Athenians whom we encounter in Attic oratory, we may
posit that while elite Athenians were essential contributors to the democ-
racy as liturgists, politicians, and military leaders, many did not fully
embrace democratic principles and ideology. Individually and collectively,
elite Athenians remained conscious of what set them apart from average
citizens and attuned to their self-interests and how to defend and advance
these within the democratic city.
This is not to say that elite Athenians after the debacle of the Thirty
posed an existential threat to the democracy. On the contrary, to all
appearances the fourth-century democracy achieved a high level of political
stability and concord. It is important to appreciate, however, that this
came about not because elite Athenians eschewed elitist attitudes and the
pursuit of their self-interests, but rather because they found common
ground with the dēmos in working for shared objectives within and outside
the city. In this case, the remarkable achievement of Athenian democracy
was that it successfully elicited cooperation among men of different classes
and often disparate social and political assumptions. Xenophon, in fact,
may have fostered this cooperation in his own small way by assuring his
elite readers that they could best serve their own interests by working to
provide good leadership within the democracy.
 Conclusions
These suggestions concerning the attitudes and perspectives of Xeno-
phon’s elite Athenian peers are tentative. A comprehensive history of elite
Athenians and their evolving place in the democracy across the classical
period remains to be written. When such a history is written, however, this
study suggests that Xenophon’s communications with his elite Athenian
readers contain important clues concerning how elite Athenians viewed
themselves and their place within the fourth-century democracy.
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 Index of Ancient Citations

Aristophanes (Ar.) Symposium (Smp.)

Clouds (Nu.) a-: 
-:  e-a: 
:  c-a: 
Wasps (V.) e-c: 
-:  e-c: 
Aristotle (Arist.)
Nicomachean Ethics (EN) Theognis (Thgn.)
a:  - West: 
Rhetoric (Rh.) Thucydides (Thuc.)
b:  ..: 
Ps.-Aristotle ([Arist.]) ..: 
Constitution of Athens (Ath. Pol.) .-: 
.-:  .-: 
.:  ..: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  ..-: 
..-: 
Demosthenes (Dem.) ..: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
Diogenes Laertius (D. L.) .-: 
.:  .-: 
.:  ..: 
.-:  ..: 

Hesiod (Hes.) Xenophon (X.)

Works and Days (Erg.) Anabasis (An.)
-:  ..: 
:  ..-: 
: – ..: 
Homer (Hom.) ..: 
Iliad (Il.) ..: 
.:  ..: 
.-:  ..: 
..: , 
Plato (Pl.) ..-: 
Alcibiades (Alc.) ..-: 
a-c:  ..: 
Apology (Ap.) ..-: 
a:  ..: 


 Index of Ancient Citations
Xenophon (X.) (cont.) ..-: 
..-:  ..-: –
..:  ..: , 
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..:  ..: , 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..-: –, ,  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..: , ,  ..: , 
..:  ..: –
..:  ..-: 
..: ,  ..-: 
..:  ..: , 
..: ,  ..-: 
..-: ,  ..-: 
..:  ..: –
..:  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..-: ,  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: , 
..-: ,  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-: ,  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..-: ,  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..: ,  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..: ,  ..-: 
..: ,  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..: ,  ..: 
..:  ..: –
 Index of Ancient Citations 
..: ,  .-: 
..-:  .: , 
..:  .: 
..:  .: 
..:  .-: 
Cynegeticus (Cyn.) .: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  .: 
.-:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
Cyropaedia (Cyr.) .: 
..:  .-: 
..:  Historia Graeca = Hellenica (HG)
..-:  ..-..: 
De equitandi ratione = On Horsemanship (Eq.) ..: 
.:  ..: 
.: ,  ..: , 
:  ..: 
.:  ..: , 
.:  ..: 
De equitum magistro = Hipparchicus (Eq. Mag.) ..: –
.: – ..: 
.:  ..-: , , 
.-:  ..: , , , 
.: , –, ,  ..-: , , 
.-:  ..: 
.-: ,  ..-: 
.:  ..: 
.-: ,  ..-: 
.-:  ..-: 
.:  ..: , 
.:  ..-: , 
.:  ..: 
.-:  .. 
.:  ..-: 
.:  ..-: , 
.:  ..-: 
.:  ..: 
.:  ..-: 
:  ..: , 
.:  ..: , , , 
.:  ..-: 
.-:  ..-: 
.: ,  ..-: 
.:  ..-: 
.:  ..-: 
.:  .-: 
.: ,  ..: 
.:  ..: 
.:  ..: , , , 
.:  ..: 
.:  ..-: 
.:  ..: 
.-:  ..: , 
 Index of Ancient Citations
Xenophon (X.) (cont.) ..: 
..:  .: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..: ,  ..: 
..:  .: 
..: – ..: 
..:  ..: , , , 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: , , , 
..:  .: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: –
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..-: 
..-:  ..: , 
..-:  ..-: , 
..: ,  ..: 
..-:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..-:  .: 
..-:  ..-: 
..: , ,  ..-: 
Lacedaemonian Constitution (Lac. Pol.) ..: , 
.:  ..: 
Memorabilia (Mem.) ..-: 
..-:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..-:  ..-: , , 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: , 
..: – ..: 
..-:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..-: , ,  ..-: 
..:  ..: , , , 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..: ,  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..-: , ,  ..-: 
..:  ..-: 
..: ,  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
..: ,  ..: 
 Index of Ancient Citations 
..:  ..: , 
..-:  ..-: 
..-:  ..: 
..:  .: 
.: ,  ..: –
.-:  ..: , –
..: – ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..: , 
..:  ..-: 
.: – ..: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
.: –,  .: , 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..-: 
..-:  ..-: 
..:  ..: –
..-:  ..: , 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: , 
..-:  ..-: 
..:  ..: , 
..-:  ..-: 
..:  ..: –, –
.:  ..: 
..: ,  ..: , , , 
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: , –
..:  ..-: 
..:  ..: , 
..-:  ..: , 
..:  .: 
..: ,  ..: 
.: ,  ..: –
.-:  ..-: 
..: – ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..: , 
..:  ..-: 
..: – ..: 
..: – ..: 
..:  ..-: –
..-:  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..: – ..-: 
..:  ..: 
..:  ..-: 
..: ,  ..: 
..:  ..: 
..-:  ..: 
 Index of Ancient Citations
Xenophon (X.) (cont.) .-: 
..-:  .-: 
..-:  .-: 
..-:  .: , , 
..-:  .: 
..:  .: 
..:  .: , 
..:  .-: 
.:  -: 
..:  .: 
..:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: , 
Oeconomicus (Oec.) .-: 
-:  .: 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.-: .  .-: 
.:  .: 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  .-: –
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.: – .: 
.-:  .-: 
.-:  .: 
.:  .: , 
.: ,  .-: 
.:  .-: 
.: , , ,  .-: 
.:  .: , 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.:  .: , 
.:  .: 
.-:  .-: 
.:  .: , , , 
.-:  .: 
.-:  .-: 
.:  .-: , 
.: ,  .: 
.-:  .: 
.: ,  .-: 
.-:  .: 
.: – .: 
.:  .: 
.-:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.: ,  .-: 
.:  .: , 
.-:  .-: 
 Index of Ancient Citations 
.:  .: 
.:  .: , 
.-:  .: , , 
.:  .: , , 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  .: 
.: ,  .-: 
.-:  .-: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  .: 
Symposium (Smp.) .: 
.: – .: 
.: ,  .-: , –
.: ,  .: 
.-:  .-: 
.: , ,  .-: 
.-:  .-: –
.-:  .-: 
.:  .: –
.:  .-: 
.-:  .: , 
.-:  .: , 
.: ,  .: 
.: ,  .: 
.:  De vectigalibus = Poroi (Vect.)
.:  .: , 
.:  .-: 
.-: ,  .-: 
.:  .: 
.:  .-: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.-:  .-: 
.-:  .: 
.-:  .-: 
.:  .-: 
.-:  .-: 
.-:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.-:  .: , , 
.:  .-: 
.:  .: 
.-:  .: 
.-:  .: 
.: ,  .: , 
.: ,  .-: 
 General Index

Academy,  Charmides, –, , –, , –,

Agamemnon,  
Agasias,  Charminus, 
Agesilaus,  Cheirisophus, , , , 
Aigospotamoi, Battle of,  Cleanor, 
Alcibiades, –, , –, ,  Clearchus, , 
Alcibiades, the younger,  Cleocritus, 
Amnesty of , the, , ,  Cleon, 
antidosis, ,  Conon, 
Antiphon,  Corinth, 
Antisthenes, , , , –, –,  Coronea, Battle of, 
Apollo,  Council, , , , , , , –, –,
Apollonides,  , , 
Archedemus, , – courts, popular, , –, , , , –,
Archestratus,  –, –, , –, –, ,
Areopagus, Council of the,  , See also sykophants
aretē, , , , , –, – Critias, –, –, –, , –, , ,
Arginusae affair, , , –, , –, , , , , See also Thirty, the
,  Crito, , –
Ariadne,  Critobulus, , –, –, –, , ,
Aristarchus, , , – 
Aristippus, – Cyreans, the. See Ten Thousand, the
Aristophanes, ,  Cyrus the Great, , 
Aristotle,  Cyrus the Younger, , , –, , ,
Assembly, , , , –, , –, –, , –, 
, , –, , , , , –, ,
–, , –, , , –, Delphi, –
–, , , See also dēmos dēmagōgoi, 
Autolycus, , , , –,  dēmos, , , –, –, , , –, , ,
, , –, , , , , –,
Balot, Ryan,  , –, , , , 
Boeotia, ,  dikaiosunē, 
Byzantium,  Diodotus, 
Diomedon, 
Callias, –, –,  Dionysodorus, –
Callixeinus, –,  Dionysus, 
cavalry, Athenian,  dokimasiai, , 
cavalry commanders. See elite Athenians: as
cavalry commanders eisphora, , , , –, –, See also elite
cavalrymen. See elite Athenians: as cavalrymen Athenians: as payers of the war tax
charis, – Eleusinium, 


 General Index 
elite Athenians erōtēsis, 
arrogance of, –, , , , , –, , Eupatridae, , , 
, , , , ,  Euryptolemus, , –, , , 
attitudes toward work and money-making, Eutherus, 
– euthunai, , 
as cavalry commanders, , , –, , Euthydemus, , –
, –, , , 
as cavalrymen, , , , , , , , Four Hundred, the, , 
, –, , , 
as entrepreneurs, , , –, –, , Gish, Dustin, 
, , –,  Glaucon, –, , , 
as estate managers, , , –, –, –, Gorgias, 
,  Gray, Vivienne, , 
as farmers, , –, ,  Gryllus, , 
as generals, , , –, , –, , ,
, –, –, ,  Hegesileos, 
as gentlemen, , , , , , –, , , Heracleides, , –
, –, , –, –, , Heracles, 
–, –, –, ,  Hermogenes, , –
as good citizens, , , , –, , , Hesiod, 
–, –, –, –, ,  hipparchs. See elite Athenians: as cavalry
as hoplites, , , ,  commanders
as leaders of the democracy, , , , –, Hippias, –
–, , , –, , –, , Hippodrome, –
–, – Hipponicus, 
leisure of, , –, ,  Homer, , , , 
lifestyle of, , , –, –, , –, hubris, , –
–, , –, , 
as litigants, , See also courts, popular; Iacchus, 
sykophants Ischomachus, , –, –, –, –,
as liturgists, , , , , , , , , , , 
, , , , – Isocrates, 
as orators, , , , , , –, –, ,
, –, , –, , ,  Johnstone, Steven, , , 
as payers of the war tax, , , , , –,
 kaloi kagathoi, , , , , , –, , ,
as phylarchs, –,  –, –, , –, –, –,
political ambitions of, –, , ,  , See also elite Athenians: as gentlemen
as political friends, , –, –, –, katastasis, 
–, , – koinōnia, 
as readers, –, –, –, See also Kroeker, Ron, 
Xenophon: and his elite Athenian audience
as self-interested, , –, –, , , Leuctra, Battle of, 
, , –, See also Xenophon: on Lyceum, 
self-interest Lyciscus, 
as workers, –, ,  Lycon, , , 
enkrateia, ,  Lysander, , –
epitaphioi, – Lysistratus, 
Erasinides, 
Erechtheus,  Mantinea, Battle of, , 
ergasia, –, ,  Marathon, Battle of, , 
ergon, , –,  Menecles, 
Eros,  Meno, 
erōs, , – metics, , , –
 General Index
misthos,  Socrates, –, –, –, , , –,
Mounichia, Battle of, , ,  –, –, –, , , ,
Mytilene,  –, , See also Xenophon: and his
Mytlinean Debate,  Socrates
Solon, 
Niceratus,  sophia, , –
Nicias,  sophists, , , , , , 
Nicomachides, , – sōphrosunē, , –
sortition, 
Ober, Josiah,  Sosias, 
Odysseus, ,  Sparta, , –, –, , , ,
oikonomia, –, –, See also elite Athenians: , 
as estate managers sunēgoroi, –
oikos, , –, –, ,  sykophants, , , , , –, 
Oinoe, 
Ten Thousand, the, , –, 
pederasty, –, , , , –,  Themistocles, , 
Peloponnesian War, , , , , , , , Theognis, 
,  Theramenes, , –, –, 
Pericles, , , , – Thirty, the, , , , , , –, –, –,
Pericles, the younger, –, , – , –, –, , –, , See also
Persia, , , , , , , , ,  Critias
Persian Wars,  Thrasybulus, , , –
Phasis, –,  Thucydides, , , , –
Philemonides,  Timocrates, 
philergia, ,  Tissaphernes, , 
philia, , –, –, –, –, Trapezus, 
–, , , See also elite Athenians: as trophē, , –, –
political friends
philotimia, , , , , , , , See also xenia, –
elite Athenians: political ambitions of Xenophon
Phyle,  as advocate of political engagement, –,
Plataea, Battle of,  , –, , –
Plato, , –, , , , , –,  as advocate of work and money-making,
Polycrates,  –
ponos, , – as cavalryman under the Thirty, , 
Prodicus, , – as critic of the Athenian democracy, –,
Protagoras,  –, –, –, –
Proxenus, –, ,  as critic of the Athenian elite, , , , –,
Prytanes, ,  –, –, , –, 
dates of his works, 
rhētores, , , , , , , , –, , as educator of elite Athenians, –, –, ,
, , , , –, –, , , , –, –, –, , ,
–, –, See also elite Athenians: –, , , –, –
as orators as exile, , –
as expert, , –, –
Salamis, Battle of,  as general, , –, 
Sarpedon, ,  and his elite Athenian audience, –, ,
Scillus, , ,  –, –, –, , –, –,
Seuthes, –, , – , , , –, –
Silanus,  and his Socrates, , –, –, , , –,
silver mines, , , – –, , , –, , –, ,
Simon,  –, , See also Socrates
Social War, , , ,  life and career, , 
 General Index 
on mass and elite, , , –, –,  on self-interest, , , , , –, ,
as orator, , , –, , –, , , –, See also elite Athenians:
– as self-interested
as reformer of the Athenian democracy, on slaves, , –, –, , –
– on women, –, –, –