The war councils of Xerxes and the origins of political philosophy

The divine pretense of Xerxes is vividly illustrated in the famous episode where he has the Hellespont whipped with 300 lashes for the destruction of his bridge.2 This striking moment emphasizes Xerxes’ assertion of exclusive power, not only over his fellow men and subjects but also over nature itself. In truth, he seems to perceive himself as an all-powerful deity that is incapable of tolerating any aspect of the natural world not submitting to his will.3

However, just before embarking across the sea, a curious juxtaposition follows when he prays to the sun and makes offerings to the Hellespont–as if he has suddenly recalled the existence of other gods:

[He prayed] to the sun that no accident might befall him which would keep him from subduing Europe before he reached its farthest borders (εὔχετο πρὸς τὸν ἥλιον μηδεμίαν οἱ συντυχίην τοιαύτην γενέσθαι, ἥ μιν παύσει καταστρέψασθαι τὴν Εὐρώπην πρότερον ἢ ἐπὶ τέρμασι τοῖσι ἐκείνης γένηται) […] [repenting] having whipped the Hellespont and gave gifts to the sea as atonement (μετεμέλησέ οἱ τὸν Ἑλλήσποντον μαστιγώσαντι καὶ ἀντὶ τούτων τὴν θάλασσαν ἐδωρέετο).4

Equally striking is the portrayal of the power vested in λόγος, particularly as Xerxes prepares to reveal his decision to attack Greece. In a curious contrast to his otherwise tyrannical manners, he declares: “so that I not seem to you to have my own way, I lay the matter before you all” (ἵνα δὲ μὴ ἰδιοβουλεύειν ὑμῖν δοκέω, τίθημι τὸ πρῆγμα ἐς μέσον).5 It is his intention to avoid appearing authoritarian that prompts him to place the matter “in the middle” (ἐς μέσον) for discussion, thereby inviting input from his counselors. However, this language of openness sits uneasily alongside his earlier proclamations of divine right and command, where he insists that “no land that the sun beholds will border ours, but I will make all into one country, when I have passed over the whole of Europe” (οὐ γὰρ δὴ χώρην γε οὐδεμίαν

κατόψεται ἥλιος ὅμουρον ἐοῦσαν τῇ ἡμετέρῃ, ἀλλὰ σφέας πάσας ἐγὼ ἅμα ὑμῖν χώρην θήσω, διὰ πάσης διεξελθὼν τῆς Εὐρώπης).6

In Herodotus’ narrative, Xerxes thus represents a complex symbol of power, as he struggles between the desire for divine authority and the challenges of leadership and governance. A pertinent question for the modern reader is why Herodotus as the narrator chose to juxtapose these contrasting representations in this specific manner? I will argue that the Herodotean narrative presents an early form of political philosophy–specifically, a profound social critique aimed at highlighting deep-seated issues within the political sphere. This critique, I contend, goes beyond a mere historical reconstruction of allegiances at the Persian court and the subsequent ramifications in the conflict between Greece and Persia. Instead, the narrative suggests the potential for transforming politics to prevent such destructive oppositions from emerging. The conceptual assumption regarding the emergence of political philosophy that will be articulated in this article thus posits that political philosophy relies on the capacity to envision social ideals that transcend the existing political order. More specifically, this investigation assumes that political philosophy entails the ability to conceive of socially transformative visions that are not sanctioned by divine authority .⁷

To establish a foundation for understanding the Herodotean contribution to the emergence of this transformative perspective, the article will commence with an overview of the argumentative content and the initial outcome of the War Councils. Subsequently, it will examine the impact of the dream visions, emphasizing how these supernatural elements influenced the debate and ultimately shaped Xerxes’ final decision. Next, there will be an exploration of the dominant scholarly interpretations, particularly the prevailing “tragic” perspective, which implies a sense of predestination in Xerxes’ march–whether through divine ordinance or the weight of tradition. However, an alternative viewpoint will then be introduced that emphasizes the inherent tension between the two differing accounts that led to Xerxes’ choice: the “secular” perspective represented by the councils and the “metaphysical” interpretation encapsulated in the dream narratives. It is by further elaborating on this tension, as well as by presenting a critical comparison with similar understandings of the origins of political philosophy found in previous scholarship, that this article aims to clarify the political-philosophical dimensions of Xerxes’ War Councils.

The councils and the dreams

In the speech that opens the councils, Mardonius is portrayed as expressing his loyalty to Xerxes’ earlier judgment, which asserted that Xerxes should carry out his father Darius’ intentions to subdue the Greeks alongside the rest of Europe.8 In this context, Mardonius produces what may appear to the modern reader as a notably distorted appeal for moral consistency:

Master, you surpass not only all Persians that have been but also all that shall be; besides having dealt excellently and truly with all other matters, you will not suffer the Ionians who dwell in Europe to laugh at us, which they have no right to do (ὦ δέσποτα, οὐ μοῦνον εἶς τῶν γενομένων Περσέων ἄριστος, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν ἐσομένων, ὃς τά τε ἄλλα λέγων ἐπίκεο ἄριστα καὶ ἀληθέστατα, καὶ Ἴωνας τοὺς ἐν τῇ Εὐρώπῃ κατοικημένους οὐκ ἐάσεις καταγελάσαι ἡμῖν ἐόντας ἀναξίους). It would be strange indeed if we who have subdued and made slaves of Sacae and Indians and Ethiopians and Assyrians and many other great nations, for no wrong done to the Persians but of mere desire to add to our power, will not take vengeance on the Greeks for unprovoked wrongs (καὶ γὰρ δεινὸν ἂν εἴη πρῆγμα, εἰ Σάκας μὲν καὶ Ἰνδοὺς καὶ Αἰθίοπάς τε καὶ Ἀσσυρίους ἄλλα τε ἔθνεα πολλὰ καὶ μεγάλα ἀδικήσαντα Πέρσας οὐδέν, ἀλλὰ δύναμιν προσκτᾶσθαι βουλόμενοι, καταστρεψάμενοι δούλους ἔχομεν, Ἕλληνας δὲ ὑπάρξαντας ἀδικίης οὐ τιμωρησόμεθα).9

In this passage, Mardonius presents an argument that exemplifies a form of self-referential ‘internal critique’–that is, an argument that, in relation to the criticizing subject itself, underscores an inconsistency between a normative principle and a specific normative view. In the specific type of internal critique employed by Mar-donius, an implicit normative principle is revealed to be at odds with an explicit normative view.10 The principle in question pertains to the Persian approach of conquering and enslaving without retaliation. The explicit view, in turn, arises from the Persians’ reluctance to take up arms against the Greeks. How can it be justified that the Persians refrain from conquering the Greeks in retaliation, when they have subdued so many other innocent peoples? This encapsulates the essence of the internal critique employed by Mardonius, which disregards the possibility of abstaining from conquest altogether.

Indeed, Mardonius seeks to ground his endorsement of Xerxes’ position solely on the validity of the king’s λόγος, or his reasoned arguments. What Mardonius tries to achieve, then, is to reinforce the strength of Xerxes’ arguments by drawing them to their logical conclusion.11

The primary argument he employs against the expedition is rooted in his own experience: it would be futile to attack the Greeks, who are far more powerful than the Scythians, who also managed to defeat the Persians–something Artabanus himself was compelled to witness during the reign of Darius:

Now I advised Darius, your father and my brother, not to lead his army against the Scythians, who have no cities anywhere to dwell in (ἐγὼ δὲ καὶ πατρὶ τῷ σῷ, ἀδελφεῷ δὲ ἐμῷ Δαρείῳ ἠγόρευον μὴ στρατεύεσθαι ἐπὶ Σκύθας, ἄνδρας οὐδαμόθι γῆς ἄστυ νέμοντας). But he hoped to subdue the nomadic Scythians and would not obey me; he went on the expedition and returned after losing many gallant men from his army (ὁ δὲ ἐλπίζων Σκύθας τοὺς νομάδας καταστρέψεσθαι ἐμοί τε οὐκ ἐπείθετο, στρατευσάμενός τε πολλοὺς καὶ ἀγαθοὺς τῆς στρατιῆς ἀποβαλὼν ἀπῆλθε). You, O king, are proposing to lead your armies against far better men than the Scythians–men who are said to be excellent warriors by sea and land (σὺ δὲ ὦ βασιλεῦ μέλλεις ἐπ᾽ ἄνδρας στρατεύεσθαι πολλὸν ἀμείνονας ἢ Σκύθας, οἳ κατὰ θάλασσάν τε ἄριστοι καὶ κατὰ

γῆν λέγονται εἶναι). It is right that I should show you what danger there is in this (τὸ δὲ αὐτοῖσι ἔνεστι δεινόν, ἐμὲ σοὶ δίκαιον ἐστὶ φράζειν).15

However, much like Darius before him, Xerxes disregards the warning from Artabanus–asserting instead that “in this enmity there is no middle ground” (τὸ γὰρ μέσον οὐδὲν τῆς ἔχθρης ἐστί). Xerxes thus argues that either the Greeks will strike against the Persians, or the Persians will launch an assault on the Greeks, and ultimately, one side will surrender to the other. Hence, his sentiment is that there is no avoiding the war.16 Yet that same night, Xerxes’ conviction in this necessity wavers, leading him to conclude that Artabanus is correct.17

However, he is soon swayed once more, this time by a recurring nightly vision of an imposing and menacing figure that both encourages and threatens Xerxes to proceed with his planned campaign. After its initial appearance, Xerxes pays no heed to the dream figure, but when it reappears the following night, he feels compelled to follow its instructions. After donning the king’s attire and resting in his bed, the same vision magically compels Artabanus to embrace the decision as well–despite having previously been the only member of Xerxes’ betrothed group to dare to challenge the planned invasion and being firmly convinced that the dream figure was not of divine origin (οὐδὲ ταῦτα ἐστι […] θεῖα).18

Thus the final impetus for the decision to march against Greece, as suggested at this juncture in Herodotus’ narrative, does not lie in the authority of speech or in the divine power of Xerxes.19 Instead, the ultimate authority emerges from a divine figure encountered in a nocturnal vision. This inspires Artabanus to offer the following reinterpretation of Xerxes’ boldness:

I judged that you had only to remain in peace for all men to deem you fortunate (γνώμην εἶχον ἀτρεμίζοντά σε μακαριστὸν εἶναι πρὸς πάντων ἀνθρώπων). But since there is some divine motivation, and it seems that the gods mark Hellas for destruction, I myself change and correct my judgment (ἐπεὶ δὲ δαιμονίη τις γίνεται ὁρμή, καὶ Ἕλληνας, ὡς οἶκε, φθορή τις καταλαμβάνει θεήλατος, ἐγὼ μὲν καὶ αὐτὸς τράπομαι καὶ τὴν γνώμην μετατίθεμαι). Now declare the gods’ message to the Persians, and bid them obey your first command for all due preparation (σὺ δὲ σήμηνον μὲν Πέρσῃσι τὰ ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ πεμπόμενα, χρᾶσθαι δὲ κέλευε τοῖσι ἐκ σέο πρώτοισι προειρημένοισι ἐς τὴν παρασκευήν). Do this, so that nothing on your part be lacking to the fulfillment of the gods’ commission (ποίεε δὲ οὕτω ὅκως τοῦ θεοῦ παραδιδόντος τῶν σῶν ἐνδεήσει μηδέν).20

In this way, Herodotus portrays Artabanus as shifting all responsibility for the impending war to a realm beyond human control: the concept of a divine mandate (δαιμονίη ὁρμή θεήλατος) is what ultimately compelled Xerxes on his march.

Herodotus’ identification of this as the fundamental cause of the campaign is a claim that has been supported by some of the most prominent voices in modern scholarship.²¹ More recently, the structural necessity implied by the divine dream scene has been reaffirmed by Christopher J. Tuplin through an analysis of the commonly accepted intertextuality between Xerxes’ dreams and that of Agamemnon in the Iliad . In Book 2, Zeus sends Agamemnon a deceptive dream, appearing as the wise Nestor, promising swift victory over Troy if he launches a full-scale assault. In Xerxes’ dreams, the clear and authoritative (albeit false) prophecy of success is absent, yet the divine necessity to attack is emphasized just as strongly as in the Iliad .²²

All the same, can we really be certain that Herodotus genuinely believed, or intended for his audience to view, Xerxes as a man divinely chosen to be a recipient of immortal deception and tragically destined to march against Greece? Or might it be that the ultimate purpose for his presenting these episodes in this manner served some other aim?

The tragic interpretations

More recently, the tragic interpretation of Herodotus’ historical understanding has been defended by Jonas Grethlein:

Besides divine envy that seems to underlie the apparition that appeared to Xerxes, divine retribution and the cycle of good and bad fate are competing models that conceptualize dramatic changes in the Histories […] In the end, as the dreams of Xerxes reveal, human beings are at the mercy of the gods.23

It is, in fact, not incorrect to suggest that a sort of tragic view of history may be perceived in Herodotus’ work,²⁴ particularly in the general conception that human happiness and success are ephemeral. In another section of the Histories , this conception is explicitly conveyed through the famous vision of the cyclical nature of human destiny, expressed by Croesus after his downfall:

I must first teach you this: men’s fortunes are on a wheel, which in its turning does not allow the same man to prosper forever (ἐκεῖνο πρῶτον μάθε, ὡς κύκλος τῶν ἀνθρωπηίων ἐστὶ πρηγμάτων, περιφερόμενος δὲ οὐκ ἐᾷ αἰεὶ τοὺς αὐτοὺς εὐτυχέειν).25

Nevertheless, the Herodotean resolution of the conflict between reasoned argument and absolute might could be interpreted in a different light. This interpretation would stress the tension between the “secularism” and the “metaphysical” elements inherent in the juxtaposition of the council scene and the dream se- 26 quences.²⁶

The tension between the secular nature of the decision facing Xerxes and its metaphysical resolution was first highlighted by Friedrich Solmsen in one of his final contributions to the field of Classical philology. Solmsen noted that the predominantly secular version depicted in the council scene is indeed reinforced by the subsequent narrative–specifically at the point when Artabanus and Xerxes reconsider the decision to proceed with the march after the campaign against Greece has already begun. However, at this juncture, they abruptly overlook the supposed divine intervention of the dream.27

Before turning to a reexamination of the interpretive model introduced by Solmsen, we should look, however, at another possible way of resolving the narrative tension inherent in the War Councils.

What should we make, then, of the fact that Herodotus chooses to resolve the clash and fusion of the two opposing representations: on one hand, the λόγος of the free city-state (ruled solely by ‘master custom’ (δεσπότης νόμος)),28 and on the other, the ultimate power of the god-king (the tyrant whose power claims extend to the point of being immune to ὕβρις) within the context of a dream? One way to approach this question, without resorting to a Herodotean vision of divine ordain, is to turn to the arguments presented in the War Councils that precede the tale of Xerxes and Artabanus’ ominous dreams.

Here, the first argument of Xerxes also resonates particularly strongly with the reader, since it is echoed–as we have seen–by Mardonius, who employs internal critique to defend his master’s position. This argument revolves around Persian custom, or νόμος, here portrayed as the historically approved and divinely sanctioned path of the Persians. According to Xerxes, supported by Mardonius, this path involves a relentless pursuit of conquest and subjugation, and a continuous striving to expand the empire’s dominion.29 Thus, the implication is that Xerxes’ dream and his own mode of thinking and reasoning are conveying the same message:

To return to the dream of Xerxes: the dream is telling Xerxes the truth […] Xerxes is a kind of tragic figure, but what drives him into an act of hybris is not his fate, but the nomoi of Persia, which he cannot abandon without changing the nature of his empire and endangering his own position.³⁰

As far as it suggests a likely historical substrate in the Persian quest for greater imperial dominion, this attempt to resolve the challenges stemming from the apparent conflict in the narrative is well-founded.31 However, I prefer to examine the Herodotean tension between argument and religiously sanctioned authority from a different perspective. I argue that through his distinct and nuanced accounts of the factors influencing Xerxes’ ultimately disastrous campaign against Greece, Herodotus is engaging in what can rightly be termed political philosophy.

Herodotus and political philosophy

What happens with the sudden nightly visions of Xerxes and Artabanus, I argue, is that the conflicting claims of the μόναρχος and λόγος dissolve and dissipate. This results in an acknowledgment of the necessity for a standard that surpasses both the authority of argument and supernatural power–whether it be the divine power governing even the king, or the equally formidable force of tradition and law in any form: the νόμος that Herodotus, quoting Pindar, famously described as “king of all.”³² In other words, the interpretation I propose is one that acknowledges a He-rodotean recognition of generally binding law or custom functioning as a universal authority over society and human relations overall,³³ while also recognizing the need for the political community to distance itself from this kind of authority and to acknowledge diverging principles when such distancing becomes necessary.³⁴ The tension between “metaphysics” and “secularism” in the narrative is thus obliterated at the moment when the Histories delves into a critique of politics and political life in general.

Such a critique, I assert, is exactly what the audience is encouraged to engage in as the narrative embellishes the religiously sanctioned authority of νόμος, through which the power of λόγος can be thoroughly discredited, in a grotesque manner– yet still endows it with the ability to challenge what has been established through reasoned argument.35 In reality, what Herodotus accomplishes is inviting his Greek audience to engage in a debate that appears to unfold at the Persian court but is, in fact, also rooted in the specific and tangible political life of their own:

the possibility of dissent in the Persian court is raised only to be silenced. Yet, the debate does work: Artabanus’ carefully framed dissent makes Xerxes think again and reach a judgment that is more favourable to all […] Moreover, it is a decision by which Xerxes stands; it takes the intervention of the dream-vision to get the move to war back on track.36

But how effective is a debate truly if, at any moment, an appeal to tradition or the divine can undermine its outcome? Is it not the case, rather, that for a discussion on political matters to be genuinely impactful, the opposite order must first be established–that is, the examination of political issues should take precedence over any external considerations beyond the human community? And by extension, is it not essential for political philosophy to recognize visions of such transcendence? Indeed, is this not the very presupposition regarding the possibility of authentic political thought and philosophy that Herodotus’ narrative seems to expose?

Similar to, yet contrasting with, the understanding of the presuppositions for genuine political philosophy outlined above, is Jean-Pierre Vernant’s perspective on the origins of political philosophy. In the work of Vernant, the beginnings of political philosophy are equated with the emergence of an ancient counterpart to secular political thought. This Vernant believed was realized when pre-Socratic philosophy first began to project egalitarian ideals of political order onto the divine realm. More specifically, Vernant argues that it was Anaximander’s “cosmological projection” that finalized the secularization of political thought in Greek philosophy. Consequently, the “spatial framework” of the democratizing city-state, along with new conceptions of order based on principles of equality and symmetry at the human level, would have been transferred to the natural world, and thus:

Monarchia was replaced, in nature as in the city, by a rule of isonomia .³⁷

Nevertheless, one could argue that even the philosophy of Anaximander–and indeed the entirety of that segment of early Greek cosmological thought that engaged with issues of “balancing of powers” and operated with concepts presupposing ideas of ‘equality before the law’ (ἰσονομία)–38was still unable to conceive of a radical real-world alternative to the, as of yet, unreplaced (albeit broadened) elite rule.

Thus, if one accepts, as Vernant proposed, that the origins of political-philosophical thought can be traced to the renewed focus on equality–both at the societal and cosmic levels–within early Greek thought of the late 6th century, the “secularism” that emerged would still be incapable of circumventing the religious endorsement of the societal status quo. This would imply that the political thought with which this form of secularism had merged would lack the genuine capacity to instigate significant changes in the political landscape to which it referred, functioning instead (like earlier socio-cosmic concepts) as a reflection of the prevailing (albeit recently reformed) order.

Therefore, if one is interested in the emergence of a type of secular rationale that permitted the proper displacement of religious legitimization in favor of acknowledging real-world alternatives–not to mention the eventual transcendence of these alternatives through non-religiously legitimized “utopian visions of social transformation”–one must look further ahead in time.

When exploring early expressions of the latter type of secularism, the He-rodotean account of the War Councils of Xerxes appears to be the most fitting starting point. For it is within this debate and its surrounding narrative that archaic Greek “political cosmology”–the projection of prevailing societal power dynamics onto the divine realm–39seems, for the first time, to give way to a Classical Greek critique of the very idea that divine projections may influence the political sphere.

Summary and conclusion

In the present study, Xerxes’ War Councils of Herodotus Book VII have been examined through a reappraisal of the framework focusing on the tension between secularism and metaphysics in Herodotus’ narrative–an interpretative model originally introduced by Friedrich Solmsen.

The reappraisal of Solmsen’s interpretation presented here offers an alternative to the prevalent tragic perspective of history most usually associated with Xerxes’ unsuccessful campaign against Greece. The alternative reading of the present article suggests that Herodotus’ account of Xerxes’ councils on the eve of the Persian march, along with the narrative’s implications of divine intervention as the ultimate cause of the campaign, can be viewed as an early form of social critique–one anticipating political philosophy. In this view, the Herodotean narrative contrasts the account that emphasizes the significance of reasoned argument with one that prioritizes the absolute power stemming from divinely sanctioned customs, precisely to highlight the dangers of blind adherence to authority, customs, or laws of any kind.

Consequently, the perspective on the origins of political philosophy presented here suggests that political philosophy began to take shape in the ancient Greek world when the potential for transcending the existing social order first began to be envisioned. For political philosophy to emerge, then, it was essential to initiate the actual transformation of the socio-political problematizing capacities of the subjects engaged in this new way of thinking–while intentionally steering clear of the divine sphere, which the earliest forms of political philosophy appeared to be particularly critical of in relation to human affairs.