Spartan adventures

The autonomy guaranteed to the Greek cities by the King’s Peace in 386 represented in principle an advance in interstate diplomacy; but then as now the word autonomy was elastic, and Sparta by its behaviour soon made clear its intention to interpret it in the way most favourable to itself. That is, it applied the old criterion of “what is best for Sparta.” Its first move, in 385, was to break up the polis of Mantinea into its four constituent villages. This move was intended to dismantle the physical polis of Mantinea as well as its democracy; in the particular Mantinean context the return to the villages strengthened the political influence of the wealthy and oligarchic landowners, whose estates adjoined the villages. The “troublesome demagogues,” as Xenophon calls them, were expelled. Sparta could perhaps have represented the original 5th- or possibly 6th-century Mantinean synoecism, whereby the villages had been joined into a polis, as a breach of local autonomy (that is, of the right of the separate villages to exist as political units), but it is doubtful that Sparta even bothered to formulate any such justification. It would have been too hollow a reply to the more-obvious interpretation that it was simply exploiting its supremacy to infringe on the autonomy of the Mantinean polis.

Soon after, Sparta responded to an invitation, surely welcome in view of its previous northern and central Greek involvements, to interfere against the rising power of Olynthus in northern Greece. Grown populous and powerful since its synoecism in 432 at the instance of Perdiccas II of Macedon, the city had survived the military reorganization of Macedonia by Perdiccas’s successor Archelaus (413–399). Now another Macedonian king, Amyntas III, who had succeeded to the Macedonian throne about 393 after a series of short, weak reigns, joined two Greek cities, Acanthus and Apollonia, in an appeal to Sparta against Olynthus. The Spartans sent Phoebidas north, but in a momentous development he was asked into Thebes en route by a pro-Spartan faction there. Without reference (naturally) to the authorities at home, Phoebidas installed a garrison on the Cadmea, the Theban acropolis (382).

The occupation of the Cadmea was a famous instance of Spartan high-handedness; indeed, it produced such a revulsion of feeling that Sparta lost its leadership of Greece. Had Phoebidas’s act been promptly disowned by Sparta, the damage could have been contained. King Agesilaus, however, approached the matter solely from the point of view of Spartan advantage; he once again posed the question of whether the action had been good or bad for Sparta, with the result that Phoebidas was punished with a fine but then reemployed elsewhere, and the garrison in Thebes was retained. Meanwhile (380), Olynthus was reduced.

The Second Athenian Confederacy

Agesilaus, however, gave the wrong answer to his own question; the Cadmea episode meant that Sparta would no longer have things its way. When a group of Theban exiles liberated the Cadmea in 379, they were helped by Athens, though at first unofficially. Athens, whose foreign policy in the years 386–380 had been cautious in the extreme, evidently felt it could not risk Spartan reprisals for its help to Thebes without seeking moral and military support from other Greek states. It now made a series of alliances, with Chios, Byzantium, and Methymna on Lesbos, which prefigure the formation of the Second Athenian Confederacy, formally inaugurated in 378. The charter of the new confederacy was issued at the beginning of 377. Athens was right to suspect Spartan anger; an attempted raid on the Piraeus by the Spartan Sphodrias at this time is best seen as a response to the new mood in Athens. The raid failed in its object, whatever exactly that was. Once again Sparta did not pursue the offender.

The aims of the new confederacy are set out on an inscription of cardinal importance, the “charter” document. The enemy singled out is Sparta, while the main ally is Thebes. Hostility toward Sparta, however, though it was certainly the motive shared by Athens and Thebes, does not adequately explain the participation of islanders such as the Rhodians and Chians. In these islands the main fear must have been of encroachment by such Persian satraps as the energetic Mausolus. In this respect the new alliance recalls the early 470s, when alarm felt in eastern Aegean waters about Persia’s intentions had led to the formation of the old Delian League. Yet the charter says nothing about Persia or the satraps in so many words; that would have been too provocative given Athens’s naval weakness at the time. On the contrary, it is likely that a clause actually spelled out an intention to remain within the structure of the King’s Peace. But this is not quite certain because the relevant lines were subsequently erased, probably in a moment of Panhellenist ardour.

Action against Persia may then have been once again envisaged, but in other respects the precedent of the Delian League was explicitly avoided. There was to be freedom and autonomy for all as well as an allied chamber, or synedrion, that could put motions directly before the Athenian Assembly. An inscription from 372 shows that this chamber had an allied president. In other words, an improvement was intended on the old synod of the Delian League, which met (presumably) only when Athens called it and had no way of influencing policy in an immediate or effective way; for instance, there is no sign of allied influence in Thucydides’ detailed account of the preliminaries to the great Peloponnesian War. The synedrion was to decide on the membership of the confederacy, and it had some financial competence. There was to be joint judicial action: although there would not exactly be a joint court, the synedrion was to participate in treason trials alongside the Athenian Assembly and Council. It is possible (according to recent reinterpretation of the relevant inscriptions) that, within the framework of the confederacy, the Athenians operated an enlightened policy of arbitration and used “foreign judges,” thus anticipating sophisticated Hellenistic methods of settling interstate disputes.

The restrictive policies adopted by Athens are interesting as showing awareness of what had been 5th-century grievances. There was to be no tribute, no governors, no garrisons, and no cleruchies. Land outside Attica was not to be cultivated by Athenians, and “unfavourable stelae” (inscribed pillars) were to be taken down. (Perhaps this is a reference to grants of the right to own land in the empire. It does not seem, however, that much or any land had survived in Athenian hands after the end of the empire in 404, and the importance of this clause may be merely symbolic.) Except for the pledge against private cultivation of land outside Attica, every one of these pledges was to be broken sooner or later, mostly sooner. There is even a hint by an orator of a private Athenian estate on the island of Peparethus, and thus one perhaps should make no exceptions at all.

Athens now began to reorganize its public finances and to build ships. A new system of levying taxes by taxation groups (symmoriai, singular symmoria) was introduced. To make sure there were no cash-flow difficulties, rich individuals were expected to produce money for the state from their own resources and then recoup it from their taxation group. The new Athenian navy defeated Sparta in the battle of Naxos (376), a victory won under the command of the Athenian Chabrias. In western waters another great Athenian commander, Timotheus, won the battle of Alyzia. Those successes produced new members for the confederacy (some states had cautiously stood aloof at first). In Boeotia—which Sparta, under King Agesilaus and initially the other king, Cleombrotus I, repeatedly invaded in the years after the liberation—there was a surprising land defeat of some Spartan contingents at the hands of the Theban Sacred Band, an elite military force composed of 150 pairs of lovers. This, the battle of Tegyra (375), anticipated the more-famous Spartan defeat at Leuctra four years later. The very existence of a Sacred Band was militarily significant, indicating that Spartan professionalism was now being copied by others who would soon overtake Sparta.

By 375 these efforts had exhausted all parties, and they were ready to make peace, or rather to accept another King’s Peace. (Greeks felt uncomfortable about their involvement in this kind of Persian-inspired diplomacy, in which the various peaces were “sent down”—i.e., imposed—by the Persian king. As a result, the Persian aspect to this and other initiatives tends to be minimized or ignored by some literary sources, notably the “Panhellenist” Xenophon.) This time Athens’s improved position was acknowledged in a clause specifically giving it the leadership by sea.