2 - The Attic Neighbour?

Summary

A long-standing rivalry, filled to the brim with warfare and mutual dislike – that is the picture provided in most investigations of Atheno-Boiotian relations. These often, however, employ a shorter chronological framework, rather than a diachronic overview of the Archaic and Classical periods (550–323 BCE), as will be given here. Moving through this time frame, the fluctuations in outlook between the two will be examined, illustrating that the notion of long-standing enmity with brief moments of friendship portray a faulty impression of this relationship. The wider perspective allows for a more complex picture to emerge. It also brings to the fore the issues of historiography, or how the silence or cursory treatment of events in our sources should not automatically be taken as evidence of periods of hostility, such as after the Persian Wars. This analysis of these periods betrays the intentions of our (literary) sources and, in turn, the assumptions of later scholars in following them. Instead, the neighbourly relationship was mostly one of peaceful co-existence, only occasionally disturbed by the threat of a common foe or through direct warfare.

[T]hey feared that if the Athenians had it (Ambrakia) they would be worse neighbours to them than the present (ones).

—Thuc. 3.113.6¹

How did the Atheno-Boiotian relations develop throughout the circa 200 years between Peisistratus’ rise and the Battle of Chaironeia? There were divided loyalties, hostilities, shifting alliances and desperate last-minute coalitions, making for a scintillating read if one wishes to trace the constant changes in the political landscape. The purpose of this chapter is to provide a succinct overview of Atheno-Boiotian relations during that time. The 200 years can be divided into larger blocks of friendly or hostile relations. There were exceptions to the rule. The period between Mantinea (362) and Chaironeia (338), for instance, characteristically draws less attention in other studies, because there is less to write about. This suggests a period of hostility, but it was a tepid one at best. This chapter provides a descriptive background of the neighbourly history for the thematic studies, which will treat particular aspects more in depth. What emerges is a complex picture of evolving hostilities and collaborations that demonstrates that a monolithic interpretation of inborn animosity does not apply to the Atheno-Boiotian history.

2.1 Benign Beginnings? From Peisistratus to Cleisthenes (546–507/6)

Conventional histories of Atheno-Boiotian relations start with Athens’ mid-sixth-century tyrant Peisistratus. After two earlier unsuccessful attempts at grabbing control, the third time proved the charm in 546.² The help he received from befriended families elsewhere was instrumental. This help was perhaps given in return for earlier favours.³ According to Herodotus the fiercest supporters were the Thebans:

Many of these gave great amounts, the Thebans more than any, and in course of time, not to make a long story, everything was ready for their return: for they brought Argive mercenaries from the Peloponnese, and there joined them on his own initiative a man of Naxos called Lygdamis, who was most keen in their cause and brought them money and men.⁴

Considering the Thebans’ vaunted wealth, known from epic poetry and recent osteological investigations, their use of it to improve their political situation is understandable.⁵ Their help ensured the tyrant’s indebtedness through the customs of charis, presumably with a future return on their investment in mind. Its exact extent is unknown, but perhaps this took the form of agreements concerning the desirable borderlands (Chapter 4.1). This exchange of money and services established a friendly co-existence. Their good rapport is expressed in the Odyssey’s Catalogue of Heroines edited under Peisistratid aegis.⁶ The origins of the heroines can be retraced to Central Greece and southern Thessaly, Thebes and southern Boiotia in particular. Tyro, Odysseus’ first mention, can track her bloodline to the Aeolids, a mythological family with roots in Thessaly. The wily hero follows this up with heroines connected to Thebes and Boiotia: Antiope is a daughter of the Boiotian river Asopos; Alcmene is the mother of Heracles; Megara is the daughter of Creon and wife to Heracles. Epicaste, a different name for the more familiar Jocaste who descends from the original founders of Thebes, the Spartoi, finishes the Boiotian tetraptych.⁷ According to Stephanie Larson, the Thessalian connections are linked with Boiotia, due to their prominence in the Boiotian ethnogenesis.⁸ The inclusion of these central Greek heroines is telling. It juxtaposes this material with traditional Athenian genealogies such as those offered for Phaedra and Ariadne by Odysseus. In Larson’s words: ‘The geographical associations of the Odyssey’s catalogue thus suggest that a positive political and cultural relationship between Boeotia, especially Thebes, Thessaly, and Athens, marked the period of the catalogue’s final composition.’⁹ Although it is not conclusive, these heroines’ insertion can be read as a Peisistratid attempt to reflect their most important ties – Thessaly and Thebes – within the context of cultural productions such as the Odyssey.

Why would the friendship with the Thebans help Peisistratus, other than repaying incurred debts? Christopher Pelling argued that a befriended tyrant in neighbouring areas is a powerful weapon to have as it is easier to arrange affairs with one leader compared with other forms of government.¹⁰ Forging individual ties with a tyrant streamlined the interactions. In the case of border disputes or other conflicts, satisfying the wishes of the tyrant responsible for the ‘foreign policy’ of his polis was easier than to please oligarchies or democracies with their multitude of opinions.¹¹ Friendly co-existence could be beneficial to both parties. Each had their own areas of interest. The Peisistratids focused on expanding in the Thraceward region and the Cyclades, whereas the Thebans struggled with the Orchomenians to expand their grasp over north-western Boiotia.¹² It seems unlikely either side directly helped the other expand, but the collaboration offered stability that could have provided the necessary security to expand without fear of pending difficulties in other theatres. The main rivals for the Thebans were the Orchomenians, and a friendly tyrant in Athens prevented a possible two-front war. Their possible alliance with the Locrians fits into this narrative as does the joint dedication with the people of Halai. Both would have helped to pressure the Orchomenians.¹³ For Peisistratus, his friendly ties with the Argives, Thebans and Eretrians ensured most of his immediate neighbours would not intervene with his tyranny.¹⁴

This seems more relevant in light of Peisistratus’ origins. He came from Philaidai, in the vicinity of Brauron (see Figure 2.1). Some scholars posit this was the basis for his putsch.¹⁵ Jessica Paga questions the Peisistratid prominence in this region. His roots lay there, but he was far from the sponsor of the Brauron cult or the deeply involved local man that some scholarship portrays him to be.¹⁶ This loose attachment makes the lack of interest in the Euboian Gulf and the Oropia more understandable. Instead, he focused on strengthening his base in the Thraceward region and his grasp over the more central regions of Athens.

Figure 2.1 Places mentioned in Peisistratid-Theban relationship.

Notably absent in this overview is the conflict over Eleutherai, a border town located in the Mazi plain (Chapter 4.1.1). Scholarship is divided into two camps over its alignment with Athens, based on the introduction of the Dionysios Eleutherios cult in Athens. One group relies on the Parium Marble, a third-century chronicle that claims the first performance of the City Dionysia occurred in the 530s.¹⁷ The other group prefers the end of the sixth century, due to the difficulties of restoring the first performance of the festival around the 530s.¹⁸ Their argument is based on epigraphy. The victor’s list of the Dionysia catalogues victors down to 346 but no further back than 502/1, meaning an earlier date was unlikely. Recent epigraphic material from Thebes and excavations at the Dionysios sanctuary in Athens support a later date (Chapter 4.1.1).¹⁹ This removes the only attested conflict during Peisistratus’ tyranny.

The friendship continued throughout the Peisistratid tyranny, with the hereditary ties passing from Peisistratus to his sons Hipparchos and Hippias. The expulsion of the family by invading Spartan troops and Athenian insurgents in 510 changed matters. This reconstruction deviates from customary histories that place a neighbourly conflict over Plataia in the years of the Peisistratid tyranny. Although the Plataians and Peisistratids forged an alliance in 519, hostilities with the Thebans did not ensue. Hostilities erupted only at the end of the sixth century (Chapter 3.1.1). Instead, this alliance was another Peisistratid attempt to forge friendly ties in Central Greece. An example of the continued friendly relationship between the tyrants and the Thebans is Hipparchus’ dedication at the Ptoion near Akraiphnia. This marble base is about 20 centimetres high and circa 28 centimetres in diameter at its widest point. The inscription was inscribed all around the socle.²⁰ The inscription was brief: ‘set up by Hipparchus, son of Peisistratus’. Nevertheless, it indicates Peisistratid interest in a Theban sanctuary whose transregional apogee had passed at this time.²¹ The location continued to attract a large Boiotian crowd, however, and a dedication by the Athenian tyrant would stand out, perhaps signalling his continued friendship with the Thebans.

2.2 First Blood: The Late Sixth Century and the Atheno-Boiotian Conflict

The disposal of the tyrants and the subsequent civil strife in Athens created the breeding ground for hostilities between the Athenians and some of their Boiotian neighbours (510–507/6).²² A Spartan-backed oligarchy under Isagoras initially took root but quickly faltered. The Athenian demos revolted and recalled his rival Cleisthenes and other exiles. These returnees initiated an ambitious ‘democratic’ programme that involved significant reforms.²³ Disgruntled by his exile, Isagoras appealed for help to his friend Cleomenes, the Spartan king. Joining the Spartans were other Peloponnesians, including the Corinthians and the Chalkidians, as well as a coalition of Boiotian poleis under Theban aegis.²⁴ The coalition forces broke in as far as Eleusis, when strife erupted and the Corinthians withdrew, forcing the Peloponnesians to withdraw as well. This left the Boiotians and Chalkidians to face the Athenians alone. The Chalkidians suffered an abysmal fate: they were defeated, ransomed and a cleruchy was installed near their polis. The Boiotian coalition soldiered on and even obtained some successes by capturing Oinoe and Phyle, before suffering a defeat at the hands of the Athenians, who celebrated their victory in a lavish manner (Chapter 5.2.2).²⁵ The reasons for the Boiotian involvement are probably related to xenia ties between their leaders and the Spartans. Another reason was their membership of the Peloponnesian League, rather than a desire for revenge over previous territorial disputes (Chapter 3.1). The result significantly shifted the political landscape, as the Athenians secured an alliance with the Plataians and annexed Eleutherai and perhaps Oropos (Chapters 3.1.1, 4.1.1–4.1.3).

It was this defeat that set the pace for subsequent years. The loss was a temporary setback for the Thebans.²⁶ Rather than lamenting their defeat, they looked for new allies and approached the Delphic Oracle for help. In its characteristic enigmatic way, the Oracle replied that the Thebans had to reach out to those nearest to them.²⁷ In confusion they responded that the Koroneians, Thespians and Tanagraians had already fought alongside them. After deliberating the matter in an assembly they realised the Oracle alluded to their kinship with the Aeginetans.²⁸ The Thebans appealed to the Aeginetans, who sent them the divine images of the ‘Sons of Aiakos’.²⁹ Believing the odds were in their favour, the Thebans took the field against the Athenians, but came undone again. They now pressed their new allies for hoplites rather than sacred statues.³⁰

This formula proved more successful, with the Aeginetans declaring war on the Athenians unannounced, a diplomatic faux pas in Herodotus’ eyes. They descended on the shores of Attica and ravaged the coast, while the Athenians were warding off Boiotian troops.³¹ One can wonder whether the Aeginetans would break with norms in such a blatant matter. It could be Herodotus’ way of portraying the Athenians positively through victimising them. When hostilities ended is uncertain, but the conflict ostensibly lasted several years. A back-and-forth on the Attic-Boiotian borders is likely, with each party trying to establish control over areas of this contested landscape. A prolonged conflict meshes with Ernst Badian’s sketch of the Cleisthenic reforms (Chapter 4.1.1).³² The impetus for a new political constellation came in 508/7 after Cleisthenes’ return, but the confirmation and execution of these reforms would take several more years and probably lasted until the end of the sixth century.³³ The implementation of these reforms was mired in ongoing military crises, with the likely perpetrators the Thebans and their Boiotian and Aeginetan allies. The aftermath of these invasions was physically visualised in the Attic landscape.³⁴ In addition to the expansion and upgrade of the fortifications of border demes such as Eleusis and Rhamnous, other coastal demes like Sounion or Piraeus received elaborate attention in response to the Aeginetan forays.

The conflict between the Athenians and Boiotians ended sometime around the turn of the century, with evidence for continued warfare lacking. Although a lack of evidence is not conclusive, the Athenian and Plataian decision to march out en masse to face the Persians at Marathon in 490 would be striking if the threat of the Thebans still loomed.³⁵ With the Aeginetans we are on looser ground, since conflicts flared up intermittently until the Battle of Salamis in 480. Perhaps their Boiotian collaboration ended around 501/0.³⁶ That end date would align with the Athenian decision to send twenty triremes in support of the Ionian Revolt in 499. Those ships would have been badly needed if the Aeginetans continued to raid the littoral demes at the time.³⁷ The lack of references to further neighbourly conflicts and the likelihood that the Cleisthenic reforms were functional around 501/0 provides a possible terminus ante quem for these localised, neighbourly hostilities.

2.3 Troubling Times: The Persian Wars of 480/79 and the Aftermath

The next neighbourly interaction is during Xerxes’ invasion of Greece in 480/79. The eventual victory of the Greek alliance over the Persians reshaped the Greek self-perception and bred a sense of military, political and cultural superiority in the victors.³⁸ The invasion and its responses are a watershed in Atheno-Boiotian relations, though in the basking light of triumph lay the shadow of medism. The decision of the Thebans and most Boiotians – except the Thespians and Plataians – to join the Persians after an initial resistance at Thermopylai contrasted with the Athenians’ continued resistance. This decision darkened their future, especially in the eyes of the victors who used this history to castigate the medizers at politically expedient times (Chapter 5.2.3).

After the actual conflict, medism was not forgotten, but its memory reshaped according to the polis commemorating it. In Athens’ case, medism was often suppressed because of the focus on the Battle of Marathon in 490. In this battle, no (mainland) Greeks participated on the Persian side, making it ideal for commemoration in the post-war period. Moreover, the Athenians did not have to share the credit for this battle with any other poleis. The castigation of medizers stood in stark contrast to the pre-war period. Prior to the conflict, working with the Mede was commonplace and not stigmatised. Only in the aftermath of the wars and the Hellenic League’s ideological campaigning did a sense of vilification attach to the term.³⁹

The decision of Boiotian poleis to medize occurred in several stages. The Battle of Thermopylai in 480 and the defeat of the forces of the Hellenic League against Xerxes constituted a turning point. The passes to Central Greece were defended by a relatively small force: 300 Spartiates under Leonidas accompanied by other Peloponnesians and a Boiotian force consisting of 400 Thebans and 700 Thespians. For the Thespians, this constituted a significant sacrifice, but the limited amount of Thebans is striking. Some scholars view the defence at Thermopylai as a manoeuvre to slow down the Persian advance to allow for evacuations to be arranged. Others view it as an all-out defence, or even the launch pad for a counter-offensive. A third option envisions a short-lived defence, aimed at creating a diversion to collect and organise a defence in Boiotia.⁴⁰ Whether this constituted a fully committed defence by the Boiotians remains a matter of debate, considering the small number of troops supplied. If it was not a concerted effort, why were there Thebans (and Thespians) at Thermopylai? Personal ties to the Spartan royal house may have played a role, whereas the contributions from Thebes could reflect a segment of the population unwilling to medize.⁴¹ There was, however, no concerted region-wide effort to counter the Persians.⁴²

According to Herodotus, the Thebans and other Boiotians had already submitted to the Persians and were at Thermopylai as hostages of Leonidas.⁴³ Plutarch, a staunch defender of Boiotia, polemicised against the Halicarnassian historian by pointing out that the Thebans were present at an earlier communal defence effort in Thessaly. He bases himself on Aristophanes of Boiotia.⁴⁴ While Plutarch’s diatribe may ascribe loyalist motives to the Boiotians, the basis of his work provides a counter narrative to Herodotus. His assertion that Boiotians were present at Tempe is consistent with Herodotus’ account of Thermopylai and suggests the latter battle may have been a pivotal moment in the decision to medize.⁴⁵ Herodotus does not explicitly detail the composition of the land army marching to Tempe, but mentions only the two most notable lieutenants, Euenetos for Sparta and Themistocles for Athens.⁴⁶ This increases the likelihood that he omitted a Boiotian contingent at Tempe, who would have marched under their own banner. The full history eludes us, but Bernd Steinbock has advanced the discussion by applying the idea of a ‘consistency bias’ to Herodotus’ narrative.⁴⁷ This means that any action by the Thebans or Boiotians that was inconsistent with his image of ‘arch-medizers’ was dismissed. To rationalise their subsequent behaviour, Herodotus retrojected their medizing onto the past, creating a consistent image of zealous medizing policy. His attitude towards the Thebans and Boiotians stands in stark contrast to other medizers. Alexander I of Macedon, for instance, receives a benign appraisal. In this case the historian remains ‘sensitive to people’s occasional powerlessness’.⁴⁸ No such sensitivity is forthcoming for the Boiotians. Nevertheless, Herodotus ironically admits the Thebans were divided over the medizing course.⁴⁹

The Theban defence at Thermopylai was therefore not one of compulsion, but a reflection of a party with enough influence to offer Leonidas a stay at the Herakleion, and which showed their commitment to the Hellenic League.⁵⁰ When that help was not forthcoming, the decision to medize was easier. The decision was facilitated by the friendship ties between an exiled Spartan in the Persian retinue, Demaratus, and the leader of the medizing party in Thebes, Attaginus.⁵¹ The advance of a substantial army and these ties meant that the pro-Persian group became more dominant in Theban affairs.⁵² Regional rivalries, like the ones Herodotus ascribes to the Thessalians and Phocians, were probably less important.⁵³

If the Boiotians medized because their position was lost and there was no allied force forthcoming, why did the Thespians and Plataians continue to resist? For the Plataians, their intimate connection to the Athenians provides the answer. Another factor could be the local rivalry with the Thebans, whose medizing ways gave the impetus to resist Persia. The Thespian case is less apparent. Simon Hornblower is less doubtful: ‘These two cities (Plataia and Thespiai) were historically aligned with the Athenians and this is no doubt a large part of the reason why they took a different line from their neighbours.’⁵⁴ But the Thespian connection emerges only after the wars. None of our sources indicate any internecine friction between the Thebans and Thespians, but a large part of the Thespian male population had perished at Thermopylai under Damophilos. These men may have been pro-Spartan with ties to the Theban contingent resisting the Persians.⁵⁵ Relations between the new Theban leadership and the Thespians were perhaps less cordial, prompting the Thespians to throw their lot in with the Greek alliance. It could have been a precursor to the events after the Battle of Delion (424), when the decimated hoplite class struggled to subdue the Thespian populace whose Athenian sympathies were objectionable to the koinon.⁵⁶

Another possibility could be the Thespian relations with the Plataians. Their shared cult of Hera Kithaironia forged a strong local tie.⁵⁷ The cult is confined to the Thespike and Plataike. This cultic connection is not easily traceable to this early stage. The date of the Hera temple in Plataia is uncertain as is the ascription of the epithet Kithaironia to the Hera cult in Thespiai. Yet this shared cult could have created the sort of bond to inspire a united front within the Boiotian political landscape.⁵⁸ Moreover, the later instalment of the festival included ritualised feasting, as can be gathered from Thespian inscriptions. These common meals then forged a close connection between these poleis.⁵⁹ Because of the cult’s importance to Plataian identity through the Daidala festival, the shared celebrations of the cult could have generated a stronger bond between the Plataians and Thespians and could have nudged the latter towards resisting the Persians.⁶⁰

Their decision proved to be the right one, as the Persian forces were driven from mainland Greece after the Battle of Plataia in 479. A swift retaliation against the Thebans ensued, as the Hellenic League besieged the city. Its impenetrable walls became totemic for medism, since many pro-Persian elements in Central Greece fled to the Cadmeia.⁶¹ A prolonged siege achieved little. A deal was reached that only the ringleaders of the medizing party were handed over and the siege was lifted. These ringleaders, however, were executed without a fair trial, casting a stain on their wilful surrender. Fortunately for the Thebans and other Boiotian medizers, that was the only punishment incurred.

So what followed? A different era in the Greek world started.⁶² The unilateral domination of the Spartans and their Peloponnesian League made way for a bifurcated structure in which Athens established itself as a leading power in the Greek world. Part of this new power came from their leading role in the Delian League that had formed to oppose the Persians and avenge their heinous acts. Its political goals were clear: to retaliate for the vicissitudes suffered at the hands of the Great King by taking the war to him.⁶³ Allegedly, the aims of the Delian League were irreconcilable with friendly neighbourly relations. David Yates, for instance, who emphasises the laudable view that enacting punishment for medism was self-defeating for the Athenians’ aims, cannot divorce himself from the idea that the Thebans could be exempted from this rule: ‘Athens needed an ethnic war that unified their Greek allies against a foreign threat. The Thebans and Dolopians could be singled out as scapegoats.’⁶⁴ It overlooks the notion that this Panhellenist, ideological veil concealed that the Athenians (ab)used this military tool to fulfil imperialistic objectives in the Thracian Chersonese and other areas of interest they had targeted since the second half of the sixth century.⁶⁵ So while the Athenians could stigmatise the Thebans, it undermined the aims of their alliance. This forces us to reconsider the neighbourly relationships after the Persian wars.

For instance, the Atheno-Plataian connection was bolstered by the final battle of the war taking place at Plataia. Promises were made to keep the Plataike an inviolable territory (Chapter 4.1.3). What about the rest of Boiotia? A period of détente and perhaps Atheno-Boiotian collaboration followed, though most scholars view the period as being rife with raw emotions of revenge. Insofar as is possible to reconstruct this period, little has been said about the neighbourly interactions in the early stages of the Delian League. One notable exception is Albert Schachter, who gingerly suggests a cordial relationship (Chapter 3.2.1).⁶⁶

The Spartan perception of medizers differed from the Athenian one. The former castigated the medizers. The latter undertook cultic exchanges, which helped the reintegration of their Boiotian neighbours after the war (Chapter 3.5). Another element was the rise of a Panhellenic political project under Athenian aegis: the Delian League. This required a different attitude towards former medizers. The situation was not dissimilar to what occurred after the Second World War in Europe, with Western Germany swiftly reembraced by the other European forces and their American allies. That does not ignore the lingering feelings of dislike among the populations of Western Europe, but on a macro-political level, there was a relatively quick rehabilitation of the erstwhile enemies. While the Persian Wars should not be viewed through the same prism as the Second World War, there is little evidence for a fierce retaliation against the Boiotians from the Athenian side in the post-war decades. The Panhellenic ideology of the Delian League was designed to embark on a war against the quintessential Other, the Persians. A unified Panhellenic ideology was embedded in this compact, stressing unity and (Ionian) kinship to strengthen the cohesion of the alliance.⁶⁷ Punishing the medizers served no purpose, but disrupted the harmony, since many island and Ionian members of the League had fought on the Persian side.⁶⁸ Singling out poleis for punishment would not garner confidence among the Athenian allies that a similar fate would not await them.⁶⁹ The Athenian campaign against Carystus, on the southern tip of the Euboian peninsula, is sometimes viewed as an Athenian punishment against medizers. Yet Thucydides describes a campaign where the Carystians refuse inclusion in the Delian League, without mentioning medism. Herodotus alludes to another campaign, but this occurred prior to the Persian Wars.⁷⁰ The sentiment of revenge against medizing Greeks seems to mostly emanate from the Spartan side. They undertook a campaign against the Thessalians to expand their influence in the Amphictyony.⁷¹

There is one source that could vindicate an antagonistic view. It concerns a bronze plaque from Olympia, dedicated by the Olympian judges presiding over arbitration cases at the Zeus sanctuary. Letter forms indicate a date in the 470s and its contents concern the verdict of a fine meted out to the Boiotoi:⁷²

Ἄγαλμα Διός· Πύρρο γρ[α]φέας·

καὶ Χαρίξενος καὶ τοὶ μαστροὶ.

[τ]αὶρ δίκαις, ταὶρ κὰ τõν Βοιοτõν Μένανδρος

[κ᾽] Ἀριστόλοχος τοῖρ Ἀθαναίος ἐδικαξάταν,

[ἐ]πέγν̣ον καὶ τοῖ Θεσπιέσσιν καὶ τοῖρ σὺν αὐτὸς

[σφ]ὲ δικαίος δικαστᾶμεν κ᾽ ἀπὸ τõν Θεσαλõν

[ἐ]πεδίκαξαν.

Offering to Zeus. Pyrrhon, secretary, Charixenos, and the mastroi have

decided that the verdicts which Menandros and Aristolochos rendered

against the Boiotians in favour of the Athenians, were not justly rendered

in favour of both the Thespians and their dependants, and they have

rescinded the penalty against the Thessalians.

(trans. A. Schachter)

Some scholars believe this retribution was handed out along the fault lines of medism.⁷³ If that were the cause, it goes unmentioned. An omission does not exclude the possibility that other indictments were used as a cloak for medism, yet the speculative nature of that argument reveals the reluctance of Greek poleis to invoke medism as a justifiable indictment against fellow Greeks at this juncture. The judgement rather reflects an epichoric Thespian perspective, who did not want their sacrifices in the Persian Wars to be ignored (Chapter 5.1.1).⁷⁴ They do not contest their relation to their fellow Boiotians. Their desire is to be excluded from the monetary fine exacted upon them.⁷⁵ Maybe this involved monetary reparations for the destruction of Athens and Thespiai at the hands of the Boiotians and the Persians. All this bronze tablet shows is the continued existence of a Boiotian political entity that was fined at the instigation of the Athenians.⁷⁶ The absence of the Spartans is easily explained. The Peloponnese hardly suffered destruction during Xerxes’ invasion, making any claim from their side preposterous. Despite the declaration for a fine occurring at a Panhellenic shrine, a monetary fine is relatively minor in light of the destruction of a city. The Boiotian poleis would be more than willing to buy off the affair with money, considering the debate in Thebes during the siege of 479: ‘No, rather if it is money they desire and their demand for our surrender is but a pretext, let us give them money out of our common treasury (for it was by the common will and not ours alone that we took the Persian side).’⁷⁷

The subsequent execution of the Theban ringleaders by the Spartan general Pausanias nullified that possibility. Perhaps the Athenians would have been satisfied with a one-time payment, rather than the punishment of the elites. Money could be found in the pockets of the prosperous Thebans and Boiotians, judging from their remarkable quick recovery from the Persian Wars.⁷⁸ Communal games at the Itonion and Onchestos appear to have continued in the decades after the war. Organising these events required money, indicating the Boiotians could still procure sufficient funds. Another indicator of wealth is the participation of Boiotian elites in Panhellenic events.⁷⁹ Financially, Boiotian elites apparently suffered no penury following the war. Their inclusion in these Panhellenic games implies they were not widely stigmatised.

Another possible indication of friendly relations comes from Athens. It concerns two bronze vessels from 480–470. One was found in Karabournaki and a similar hydria is on display at the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence. The former was found in Attica, whereas the latter’s provenance is unknown. Yet the vessel was manufactured in Thebes: τõν Θέβαις αἴθλον.⁸⁰ The similarity between the two vessels might indicate the Athenian vessel was produced in Boiotia, hinting at possible athletic interactions between the two regions. While far from conclusive, the participation in Theban games demonstrates there was no stigma attached to participating in its games shortly after the Persian Wars. It seems there was no widespread Athenian condemnation or punishment. The shielding of the Boiotians against Spartan interests, while founded upon Athenian interests, suggests the initial post-Persian war decades were a period of détente or even, for instance, close collaboration or alliance (Chapters 3.2.1, 3.5).

2.4 An Age of Extremes: Domination and Destitution (458–404)

The decades after the Persian invasion are shrouded in darkness, with only snippets of information available. Neighbourly interactions are more traceable for the 450s. Two major battles were fought on Boiotian soil in this decade: the Battle of Tanagra (458) and the Battle of Oinophyta (458). Each profoundly impacted the Atheno-Boiotian relationship.⁸¹

The first was heavily contested and pitted a Spartan army against an Athenian army supported by Thessalians and Argives.⁸² The Spartan presence reoriented political loyalties in the region, with pro-Spartan regimes taking over in Thebes and Boiotia after the battle (Chapter 3.2.3). The dust had hardly settled on Tanagra before Athenian soldiers were marching into Boiotia again. They mustered an army under Myronides’ command and defeated the Boiotian forces at Oinophyta. After the victory, Myronides tore down the walls of Tanagra, took a hundred of the richest men from Opuntian Locris hostage and subdued Boiotia and Phocis.⁸³ An alliance between the Athenians and the Delphic Amphictyony is recorded around this time.⁸⁴ Whether it pre- or post-dates the Battle of Oinophyta is unclear. Perhaps the Athenians’ control over Delphi and Phocis meant they employed the symbolic capital of Apollo’s sanctuary to tie the members of this political organ together since the Spartans had marched on Doris to expand their influence in the Amphictyony.⁸⁵ The Athenians would then have achieved what the Spartans could not: a dominant position in the religious affairs of (Central) Greece.

The victory at Oinophyta inaugurated an unparalleled period of Athenian domination over Boiotia. Friendly elites were installed to ensure compliance with the new order (Chapter 3.2.3). Their inclusion in the Athenian empire is perhaps found in the Athenian Tribute Lists. Yet the name of two Boiotian poleis in the inscriptions depends on ambiguous restorations.⁸⁶ Thucydides provides an insight into the new arrangements as he mentions a Boiotian contingent in an Athenian campaign to Thessaly to restore Orestes, the exiled son of the king of Thessaly. He refers to this contingent as Athenian allies.⁸⁷ This reference suggests the Boiotians were at least formally allied to the Athenians. Whether that involved integration into the League is unknown, but their military assistance was a significant boost to the military possibilities of the League in Central and Northern Greece (see also Chapter 4.3).

This Athenian domination proved ephemeral. The region was in turmoil after the five-year truce between the Athenians and Spartans ended in 446. Tensions flared up over the control of the Apollo sanctuary in Delphi, with the Spartans placing it in Delphian hands before the Athenians marched in and restored the Phocians to power.⁸⁸ Trouble was brewing elsewhere too. In 446 Euboian, Locrian and Boiotian exiles took over Orchomenos, Chaironeia and other places in Boiotia.⁸⁹ Thucydides’ silence on their motives is somewhat frustrating, but presumably these men formed part of the ousted groups after the events of 458. An Athenian response materialised swiftly. The general Tolmides marched out with a thousand hoplites and an unspecified number of allied troops. Initially, his expedition was successful. Chaironeia was taken, its populace subjected to andrapodismos and a garrison installed.⁹⁰ The army withdrew from the town and were en route to Haliartos to await reinforcements when the exiles – the Orchomenizers – ambushed the Athenians near Koroneia.⁹¹ The Athenians were soundly beaten: a portion of the army perished and others taken prisoner. In exchange for the bodies of the fallen, they were forced to withdraw from Boiotia. After their retreat the Boiotian poleis became autonomoi again.⁹² The exiles’ ease in recruiting troops and wreaking havoc on the north-western parts of Boiotia demonstrates the Athenian hold was fairly loose, although this could have been the result of the recent catastrophe in Egypt and other wars stretching manpower thin.⁹³

The Boiotian insurgence inspired revolutionary fires in Megara and Euboia, demonstrating the difficulties Boiotians could inflict upon the Athenians beyond their borders.⁹⁴ These revolts during an ongoing war with the Spartans may have prompted the quick settlement with the Boiotians. The loss of this strategic region was precipitated by the Athenian war fatigue. Reflecting this sentiment are the unfavourable terms of the Thirty Years’ Peace concluded with the Spartans after the subjugation of the Euboians.⁹⁵ The Athenians gave up important Megarian harbours such as Nisaia and Pagai (Chapter 4.2.1) while abandoning Achaia and other posts in the Peloponnese. The withdrawal of the Athenians allowed the Boiotians to restore their koinon, but whether the Plataians became a member remains unclear (Chapter 4.1.3). Their Athenian alliance remained intact and pro-Athenians were still found in the koinon, as detailed by proxenia awards.⁹⁶

The loss of Boiotia meant accusations of medism hurled at the Boiotians became in vogue – save for the Plataians and perhaps the Thespians – in Athens. The Panhellenist ideal was dusted off by Pericles, despite the lack of an imminent Persian threat. He invited delegates from everywhere, including Boiotia, to discuss the Greek sanctuaries that had burned down, the sacrifices needing to be made to the gods in name of Hellas and how to secure the seas from piracy. Despite doubts about the historicity of this event, a certain interest in the Panhellenist discourse is noticeable in other ways.⁹⁷ At this time, the Athenians set out to ‘re-invent’ their city through the beautification of many of its sanctuaries and important sites.⁹⁸ Omnipresent in the decorations was the eternal struggle against the ‘other’, one of the defining tenets of Panhellenism. Its political exponent, however, had been put on hold, precipitated by the lack of Persian aggression. The notion of eleutheria from the oppressor was adapted to become a flexible and multipurpose concept that enabled the Athenians to justify their continued rule over the League, despite the lack of Persian danger. This was best expressed in the Tatenkatalog, a canon of deeds performed by the glorious predecessors of the Athenians that promulgated their self-identity as the champions of freedom and defenders of justice.⁹⁹ It incubated the belief that Athenian rule was the norm to guarantee the freedom of the Greeks against the Persians and that of their own in the face of their Greek enemies.¹⁰⁰

This had repercussions for the attitude towards the Boiotians. Without the need for a united Panhellenist campaign and with the return of hostilities, there was no need to ignore the medizers’ actions during the Persian Wars. I suspect Boiotian medism became a popular trope in the run-up to the Peloponnesian War. At this point it was politically expedient to emphasise the past behaviour of the Boiotians since they were Spartan allies. In a struggle for dominance and Panhellenic acclaim, pointing out that the Spartans were allied to medizers could prove beneficial (Chapter 5.2.3). That attitude accords with the increasingly narrow Athenian view of the Persian Wars before the Peloponnesian War.¹⁰¹ Contributions made by other poleis, like Corinth, were increasingly suppressed and devalued.

The period between the Thirty Years’ Peace treaty of 446 and the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War in 431 was characterised by increasing tensions throughout the Greek world. But these had less to do with an inveterate enmity between the Athenians and Boiotians. Other factors were more important, such as the Corcyrean and Corinthian appeal to Athens and Sparta for help, or the Spartan self-image as wardens of honour and leaders of Greece.¹⁰² The growing challenge to Spartan honour and their frail confidence triggered a response that eventually led to war.

Various factors contributed to its outbreak. A conflation of fears, interests and desires created a powder keg that, despite all the repeated efforts from both sides to arbitrate the matter and deescalate the tension, needed just a small spark to explode.¹⁰³ And explode it did. According to Thucydides, a Boiotian affair triggered the war.¹⁰⁴ In 431 pro-Theban Plataians plotted a coup with befriended Theban peers, such as Eurymachos, to change the town’s political allegiances after its secession from the koinon sometime before.¹⁰⁵ Whether the koinon condoned the action is uncertain. The inclusion of boiotarchs in the attack suggests so but these were all Thebans, hinting at an exclusively Theban undertaking.¹⁰⁶ The endeavour went horribly wrong. The Plataians imprisoned most of the attackers before unlawfully executing them.¹⁰⁷

Informed of the nocturnal attack, but unaware of the executions, the Athenians implored their Plataian allies to stay calm and prevent further escalation. Meanwhile every Boiotian present in Attica was incarcerated for leverage in future negotiations.¹⁰⁸ The Athenians were hoping for a diplomatic solution, even if they blamed the Thebans for breaching the Thirty Years’ Peace.¹⁰⁹ The news of the prisoners’ execution in Plataia ended the window for negotiations. From that moment the war devolved into a brutal conflict that witnessed immoral killings, outlandish destructions and horrid executions. In tandem with the slipping moral standard came the ever-growing size of the resources invested in the war, with war now raging on an unprecedented scale.¹¹⁰

As a Spartan ally, the Boiotians opposed the Athenians. This was the result of prearranged alliances, not an innate neighbourly hostility. The koinon’s independent role for most of the war appears to support that notion.¹¹¹ In the revolt at Lesbos Boiotians were instrumental in stirring up discontent towards the Athenians not on account of Spartan considerations, but to strengthen their own kinship ties around the Aegean.¹¹² Another example is their support for their beleaguered Megarian neighbours in 424 before the Spartans did.¹¹³ Other actions had more severe results. The destruction of Plataia in 427 marked a change from the previous military engagements, which hitherto had negligible impact upon the war. This erased a renowned town and dealt a propagandistic blow to the Athenians, who neglected to aid the Plataians (Chapter 4.1.3).¹¹⁴

In 424 the Boiotians decisively beat the Athenians at Delion, halting a string of Athenian successes and causing a reversal in the war. Delion was the result of an Athenian plan to pin down the Boiotians with a pincer move. One army under Demosthenes would install friendly regimes in Chaironeia and Siphai to secure the Corinthian Gulf promontory. Another army under Hippocrates would march on Oropos and Tanagra and recreate the successful epiteichismos tactics that had worked so well at Pylos against the Spartans by reinforcing and fortifying Delion (Chapter 4.2.1).¹¹⁵ The two-pronged attack would split the koinon’s forces and erode its cohesion from fortified bases, eventually taking them out of the war. The plot faltered, as the plans for Siphai and Chaironeia were discovered, leaving Hippocrates to fend for himself at Delion. His isolated army bore the full weight of the Boiotian forces and were trounced in battle. Emphasising Boiotian independence is not to diminish their involvement in the conflict – Delion in particular was a turning point in the war and for Boiotian self-awareness – but underlines their independent course from their Spartan allies.¹¹⁶ That emerges during the negotiations before the Peace of Nicias in 421. They refused to act as a third-rate power or subordinate ally to the Spartans by handing over their conquered possessions without concessions (Chapter 3.1.2).

Two notorious events of the decade after the Peace of Nicias were the Profanation of the Mysteries and the Mutilation of the Herms scandals in Athens. Implicated citizens were condemned, their property confiscated. Those who had fled the scene were condemned to death in absentia. The impact of the events stretched beyond the borders. According to Thucydides, those embroiled in the scandals colluded with the Boiotians to hand over the city to them.¹¹⁷ It reveals the persistent danger the Boiotians could pose to the stability of the Athenians through their proximity, especially during crises. While the Spartans were still traipsing at the Isthmus, the Boiotians were already on the border.¹¹⁸ This allowed them to acutely respond to changes in Athens, making their threat much more palpable than the distant Spartans.

Throughout the later stages of the war the Boiotians thwarted Athenian ambitions by fighting in Sicily and occupying the border fortress at Dekeleia.¹¹⁹ The fortification of Dekeleia in particular proved fruitful. It cut off the Athenians from the silver mines in Laurion and severed the transport axes running through Attica, especially the vital artery with Oropos, where a substantial amount of imported grain arrived. The support in Sicily, Byzantium and Asia Minor shows how the Boiotians fostered their kinship ties around the Greek world. This went beyond the demands made of other allies within the terms of the Peloponnesian League.¹²⁰ Their zeal is probably best explained by a desire to create their own lasting legacy, independent of the Spartans. Another vigorous blow came in 411, when the Athenians lost Oropos to the Boiotians. This takeover precipitated the loss of Euboia, a vital asset for Athenian survival (Chapter 4.1.2). In the next few years the Athenians were pushed into a corner but continued to work their way out of trouble. Yet after some minor success, the Athenians spiralled downwards. The final strike came in 405 at the Battle of Aegospotami (Chapter 5.1.2). The loss of their fleet was too severe to overcome and sealed their fate.

It was another year before the conflict ended (404). The Athenians were in an unenviable position, their fate dependent on the judgement of former enemies.¹²¹ Following the surrender, the Boiotians proposed to raze Athens to the ground and use its lands for pasture. Bernd Steinbock argues this response emerged from the fear they suffered in 480/79 while enduring the siege by the Hellenic League.¹²² Yet that experience could have had a contrary effect and softened their demands for revenge, unless one believes the Boiotians to be truly malicious. The Spartans refused this proposal, however, on grounds of the Athenian contribution to the Persian Wars, obliquely throwing a jab at the Boiotians.¹²³ What could have induced this refusal and this oblique insult to their allies?

The Boiotians’ strained relationship with the Spartans over various issues, such as the establishment of Herakleia Trachis in Central Greece and the distribution of booty from Dekeleia, was a contributing factor.¹²⁴ From a Realpolitik perspective, a destruction of the city was detrimental to the Spartans as it removed a substantial buffer from Central Greece against Boiotian expansion.¹²⁵ In a similar fashion, the Boiotians insisted on the ritual destruction of Athens as they feared the city would turn into a powerful pro-Spartan bulwark. By transforming Attica into sacred territory, dedicated to (shared) pastoral activities, they could alleviate Spartan fears about the Boiotian appropriation of these lands. Perhaps the vicissitudes suffered during the war, such as the heinous slaughter at Mykalessos in 413, were another motive but that goes unmentioned in our sources.¹²⁶ These self-interested arguments are certainly valid and could have influenced decision-making.

But as Steinbock rightly argues, other aspects factored into the decision.¹²⁷ References to the past deeds of the Persian Wars were not a mere façade and evoked emotions on the Spartan side of the glorious resistance against the Persians.¹²⁸ It also allowed the Spartans to juxtapose the Athenians with the Boiotians, whose growing recalcitrance was worrisome to observe. Additionally, the Panhellenist discourse employed by the Spartans throughout the war made it nearly impossible to destroy fellow Greeks and offer their city as a tithe to Apollo in Delphi after they had valiantly fought the Persians.¹²⁹ It was imperative to promote a feeling of unity for a possible conflict with the Persians. Accepting the Boiotian proposal would have sacrificed any credibility of the Spartans as leaders of the Greeks. They would have committed a horrible, irreversible act that negated any future normalisation with the Athenians. It is easy to envision inherent hostility towards the Athenians inspiring the Boiotian proposal, but perhaps a small hostile clique dominating the political scene is to blame, as suggested by the Theban ambassador to Athens in 395.¹³⁰ The immediate aftermath of the war points in this direction. The proposal was more likely the extension of apprehension over Spartan behaviour than neighbourly enmity.

2.5 All Quiet on the Western Front? United against the Spartans (403–369)

After the Athenian surrender the Spartans freely dictated terms. The fleet was heavily reduced and the Long Walls protecting the city destroyed, removing the two safety nets against foreign incursions. Additionally, the source of Athens’ power, the Delian League, was dissolved.¹³¹ Symbolising their humiliating status was the inclusion into the Peloponnesian League as a Spartan ally. A new oligarchic government was installed to replace the democracy to ensure compliance with these conditions.¹³² These changes confirmed the fears envisioned by the Boiotians and Corinthians: Athens was now a Spartan pawn.

Highly unpopular from the start, the new government was confronted with rising tensions. The Spartan general Lysander installed a garrison to assuage the situation.¹³³ Thirty men were appointed to reshape the ancestral laws and stabilise the city, but their rule turned into a tyranny. They now acted as the de facto government. Moderate elements of the previous ruling clique were persecuted, and a majority of the population lost its citizenship.¹³⁴ This forced many Athenians into exile. Most of the staunchest democrats fled to Thebes, where they were offered a safe haven in defiance of Spartan demands.¹³⁵ The reason for the sudden change in outlook in Thebes is partially due to changes in leadership, with Ismenias and his party taking over (Chapter 3.2.2). Recent Spartan attempts to intervene in the polis’ affairs probably instigated these changes. According to Isocrates ‘the Lacedaimonians no sooner gained the supremacy than they straightway plotted against the Thebans’.¹³⁶ The Loeb and other editions perceive this as the capture of the Cadmeia in 380s, but Isocrates probably refers to the end of the Peloponnesian War, which could explain Ismenias’ rise to power.¹³⁷

Defying Spartan orders to extradite the refugees, the Boiotians shielded the Athenian exiles under Thrasybulus in Thebes and its surroundings to provide them with a base to launch their coup against the Thirty. Their motives were not solely altruistic. It was in their interest to support these exiles, so that the pro-Spartan regime in Athens could be toppled. Moreover, their help for the refugees was impelled by the Theban self-image to emulate the deeds of Heracles by protecting the weak (Chapter 3.4.1). Officially, the Boiotians offered no help to the refugees. Harbouring the exiles was an intractable act but did not constitute a declaration of war towards the Spartans.¹³⁸ The exiles succeeded in capturing the border fortress at Phyle, before marching on Athens itself. After a bloody battle between the regime and the exiles, the refugees came out victorious. The Spartans wished to intervene and demanded reinforcements from their Boiotian allies. The koinon refused, however, suggesting they supported the Athenian democrats. Any lingering negative emotions stemming from the Peloponnesian War appear to have been set aside, even if temporarily. Hampered by the lack of help, the Spartans were compelled to broker an agreement between the warring Athenian factions.¹³⁹

The post-war period was thus an amicable period for the neighbours, but this relationship was not formalised until 395. In the intermittent years (403–395) the relationship between the Spartans and their Boiotian allies deteriorated, laying the Realpolitik foundations for a neighbourly rapprochement. Spartan abrasive behaviour caused that deterioration, ranging from interventions in Elis to large-scale campaigns in Asia Minor. As Paul Cartledge put it, the Spartans started to increasingly act as the new Athenians towards their allies, in both repressive behaviour and expansionist tendencies.¹⁴⁰

The campaign in Asia Minor particularly influenced attitudes. The ascension of Agesilaos to the Spartan throne brought forward a leader with a distinctive mix of imperialism and Panhellenism in his convictions. He advocated a renewed war against the Persians, using a familiar expression: eleutheria for the Greeks in Asia Minor. He levied troops for the expedition and marched into Boiotia for departure on this pretext.¹⁴¹ Wishing to emulate Agamemnon on the eve of his voyage to Troy, Agesilaos wanted to sacrifice at Aulis before his departure, doubling down on his Panhellenic credentials with this Homeric invocation.¹⁴² He did not consult the Boiotians first, however, triggering a piqued response from the koinon for his intrusive behaviour and lack of decorum. When word reached the boiotarchs of his impending sacrifice at Aulis, they dispatched horsemen to the scene to halt Agesilaos’ offering. Agesilaos was incensed and sailed off in anger.¹⁴³ The boiotarchs’ actions are often interpreted as religiously shrouded political goals, but this view has been challenged. Stopping the sacrifice was not a spiel fronting for political gains. The Spartan king had violated customs by having his own diviner sacrifice, rather than the diviner attached to the sanctuary.¹⁴⁴ His actions were not a matter of charged impiety but betrayed his arrogant ambitions and were certainly not the act of a thoughtful ally. It was a prologue to the times ahead.

Any goodwill the Spartans had created by overcoming the Athenians in the Peloponnesian War evaporated. In the process they alienated allies like the Boiotians and Corinthians. These saw the writing on the wall and in 395 pushed for an alliance with the Athenians against the Spartans, leading to the Corinthian War (395–387/6). Persian money fomented anti-Spartan disaffection among Greek poleis, triggered by a range of Spartan trespasses, such as intervention in the internal affairs of allies, including Thebes.¹⁴⁵

A proxy war in Central Greece, where the Boiotians kindled a conflict between the Opountian Locrians and Phocians, provided the onset for the war.¹⁴⁶ Xenophon’s account pretends the Thebans, easily bribed by Persian money because of their moral depravity, were solely to blame for the war. Their role as a principal instigator is undeniable, but Xenophon’s characteristic defamation of the Thebans should make us cautious. He omits the Demaneitos affair. This Athenian general had sought out Conon to have the Persians wage war on the Spartans, only to be recalled and castigated for this unauthorised action.¹⁴⁷ Clearly the Boiotians were not the only Greeks looking to instigate a conflict with the Spartans, as tensions within the Peloponnesian League were rising.

This conforms to Jennifer Roberts’ view in The Plague of War that the conflicts of the early fourth century were not a separate event, but a continuation of the Peloponnesian War.¹⁴⁸ These conflicts revolved around the same goal as the Peloponnesian War: Spartan dominance and the challenge thereof. That process ended only with their defeat at Leuktra in 371.

In this case the Athenians and the Boiotians challenged the Spartans by forging an alliance in 395 (Chapter 3.2.2). Their compact quickly led to war. A string of land battles followed at Haliartos (395) and Koroneia (394) in Boiotia (see Figure 2.2). Neither alliance garnered any momentum. Fortune seemed to smile on the anti-Spartan alliance initially, as Haliartos was a resounding victory. The return of Agesilaos from Asia Minor in 394 beckoned a different course, resulting in the undecisive Battle at Koroneia.¹⁴⁹ Despite some minor successes for the coalition, they were nowhere near bringing the Spartans to their knees. Early attempts at concluding a peace in 392 were fruitless but did lay the groundwork for an important shift: the Persians switched sides. They swung their support from the Athenians to the Spartans.¹⁵⁰

Figure 2.2 Places of importance during the Corinthian War.

The tides of war definitively turned in 388. Supported by the resources of the Persian empire, the Spartans took control of Rhodes and the Hellespont. This takeover asphyxiated the Athenian war effort by cutting off their grain supply.¹⁵¹ The return of Tiribazus, a Persian satrap sympathetic to the Spartans who replaced a hostile predecessor, alerted the Spartans to the chance to settle the war in their favour. The early contours of a treaty – perhaps even a separate pact between the Spartans and Persians – were hammered out at the Persian court.¹⁵² Early in 387 Tiribazus and the Spartan ambassador Antalcidas returned to Sardis with the royal edict to be disseminated among the Greeks before the treaty was ratified in Sparta in 387/6. Often referred to as the King’s Peace, Xenophon provides us with an epitome of the treaty:¹⁵³

King Artaxerxes thinks it just that the cities in Asia should belong to him, as well as Klazomenai and Cyprus among the islands, and that the other Greek poleis, both small and great, should be left independent, except Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros; and these should belong, as of old, to the Athenians. But whichever of the parties does not accept this peace, upon them I will make war, in company with those who desire this arrangement, both by land and by sea, with ships and with money.¹⁵⁴

Stelai with terms of the peace were probably set up around Greece.¹⁵⁵ The treaty was a major victory for the Spartans as most participants consented to the terms. The Argives and Corinthians, however, initially refused to disband their union until Agesilaos’ threats of war forced them to reconsider. The Boiotians also posed a problem. Acting as representatives of the koinon, the Thebans wanted to swear to the treaty as a common polity. Agesilaos, however, was adamant that every Boiotian polis should be autonomous and represented separately. The Thebans reluctantly reconsidered after threats of a full-blown invasion of their territory. Their allies declined to offer their support, leaving them with no other choice but to adhere to Agesilaos’ wishes. Perhaps the Athenians abstained because they retained control over Imbros, Lemnos and Skyros in the treaty, confirmed by the sending of a cleruchy to Lemnos in 386.¹⁵⁶

The King’s Peace in 387/6 marked a turning point in Greek history. Acting as proxies for the Persian King, the Spartans championed the peace and made sure its provisions were obeyed by others.¹⁵⁷ In reality the role gave them licence to apply its conditions unilaterally wherever it suited them. Part of the abuse stems from the ambiguity of the term autonomia. Autonomia meant different things to different people. The term was constructed around consent, meaning it was applied in a manner perceived by the participants (Chapter 3.4.3).¹⁵⁸ The treaty was thus the perfect tool for any prospective hegemon. The Spartans happily abused the peace to enforce its terms on their opponents, such as the Boiotian koinon or any hegemonic build-up under Athenian auspices. Other poleis were notoriously exempt from its enforcement, because they either had not submitted to the treaty or were not regarded as a threat by the Spartans.¹⁵⁹ Peter Hunt astutely observes: ‘These [Common Peace treaties] had as their real and stated goal the establishment of peace in the whole Greek world. But it was always peace on the terms of one state or another; that a legal analogy was used did not mean that the result did not involve winners and losers.’¹⁶⁰ The koinon had the honour of being one of the first victims of Spartan guardianship of autonomia.¹⁶¹ Other victims were soon to follow.

Although the Corinthian War ended with the political dissolution of the Boiotian koinon, the clipping of its institutional wing did not stop quotidian interactions such as religious celebrations and trade.¹⁶² The King’s Peace did sever the Atheno-Boiotian alliance. Its abrogation meant the Boiotian poleis could pursue a different course. Some scholars argue a Spartan-Theban alliance was formalised, as the restoration of Plataia and the independence of Oropos facilitated the re-emergence of Leontiades and his partisans to political prominence.¹⁶³ That is contradicted by the Spartans’ Olynthian campaign in 382 (Chapter 3.2.3). These scholars mostly base themselves on a reference in Plutarch’s Pelopidas (4.4–5). He mentions a Theban contingent, including Epameinondas and Pelopidas, participating in Spartan actions against Mantinea. However, they ignore Plutarch’s aims in writing this piece. He wished to portray Epameinondas as the ideal philosopher-warrior but was less interested in recording actual history.¹⁶⁴ Another text frequently brought to bear is Isocrates’ Plataicus, where he mentions the Theban betrayal of the Athenians after the Corinthian War. Yet his indignation about this betrayal is tenuous. The pamphlet is filled with factual errors and was written in a spirit of antagonism towards the neighbours in the late 370s after the destruction of Plataia.¹⁶⁵ It was written from the perspective of Plataians, who may have viewed events in a different light following the destruction of their town in 373. They may have wished to castigate the Thebans before an Athenian audience, if it even was delivered before a larger audience.

Admittedly, a contingent was present at Mantinea, but rather as pro-Spartan parts of Theban society. Their personal relations led to their participation, rather than as official representatives of the polis.¹⁶⁶ The situation resembles Thermopylai, where Theban elements contributed in an ‘unofficial’ capacity (Chapter 2.3).

The King’s Peace abolished the Athenian-Boiotian alliance, but did not erase all traces of interregional collaboration. The ascension of Sparta as enforcer of the King’s Peace, combined with the impotence of its Theban enemies to (re)coagulate the notion of a shared Boiotianness into an alliance, left the Athenians and Boiotians at the mercy of Spartan indifference, dislike or – worse – hatred. The abuse of the peace treaty was bound to lead to resistance in the disaffected poleis of mainland Greece and the Aegean, which it did, but with unforeseen consequences.

In 383 the Olynthians extended their influence over the Chalkidian peninsula. In response, their troubled neighbours appealed to Sparta for help. According to the envoys, the Spartans were obliged to help on account of their previous intervention in Boiotia. They signalled that the Olynthians made overtures to the Athenians and Thebans for an alliance, making intervention necessary in their opinion. Although this alliance never materialised, its possibility was enough to warrant a large-scale expedition to hinder Olynthian expansion (Chapter 3.2.3).¹⁶⁷ Passive resistance to the campaign came from the Boiotian koinon. Its citizens were prohibited from participating in the Spartan campaign, a decree presumably issued under the auspices of the anti-Spartan leader Ismenias and his partisans.¹⁶⁸ The decree inadvertently destabilised the relationship with the Spartans more than envisioned. Indifference was one thing, blatant disobedience from an ally another. Thus the Spartans planned to remove the more obstinate segments of Boiotian society.

The opportunity came during the march to Olynthos in 382. The Spartan expeditionary force under Phoibidas encamped near Thebes. Leontiades, leader of the pro-Spartan faction in Thebes, proposed to betray the Cadmeia to Phoibidas during a religious festival. Spartan troops entered the city and Leontiades presented the coup as a fait accompli to the Theban council. His scheme soon found widespread support. The council decided to arrest Ismenias as a warmonger detrimental to the well-being of the polis. Ismenias received a sham trial and was afterwards executed because of his alleged medism, proving such accusations continued to wield political influence.¹⁶⁹ Preferring exile over death, 300 of his closest followers fled the city, mostly to Athens, handing Thebes over to a Spartan clique.¹⁷⁰

Other Boiotian poleis felt the Lacedaimonian hammer as well. Thespiai and Plataia were ruled by pro-Spartan regimes. Tanagra may have had a garrison, since it had a harmost in 377 and probably some years before. Thebes turned into an unlikely haven for Boiotian democrats with the pro-Spartan oligarchies controlling so many poleis.¹⁷¹ Those left fled to Athens, where they rallied around the leadership of Androkleidas, one of Ismenias’ faithful.¹⁷²

After the takeover of Boiotia the Spartans were at the apogee of their power. But they wasted any remaining goodwill from the Peloponnesian War with their coup in Thebes. Outrage and indignation dominated the responses to the capture of the Cadmeia. Most Greeks – and Spartans for that matter – were quick to condemn Phoibidas’ actions. Agesilaos managed to shield him from severe punishment and even got him appointed as the harmost of Thespiai.¹⁷³ The widespread condemnation of the action is not surprising. A takeover of a polis through subterfuge was not uncommon and would not have caused such affront. But this seizure was not a military operation, nor a clandestine endeavour.¹⁷⁴ The real transgression was the violation of the King’s Peace, by interfering in the independence of a Greek polis. The Spartans aggravated their offence by breaking the covenant of gods overseeing the treaty.¹⁷⁵

The pro-Spartan junta in Thebes was short-lived. After three years of planning, shielded by Athenian protection, Theban exiles arranged to overthrow the regime, contriving with discontent citizens still living in the city.¹⁷⁶ In December 379 a group of exiles entered the city and assassinated the polemarchs. With the support of the hoplites and cavalry, the insurgents succeeded in accomplishing the coup. The new regime re-instituted the boiotarchia, replacing the incumbent polemarchs. Despite the office’s limitations – only Theban citizens became boiotarchs – it signalled the intentions of reforming the koinon.¹⁷⁷

Help was underway from Athens while Spartan attempts to quell the uprising led to nothing.¹⁷⁸ Apprehensive of retaliation, the Athenians sent ambassadors to other poleis to persuade them to join a common cause for liberty.¹⁷⁹ The first to respond were the Chians, followed by the Byzantines, Mytileneans and Rhodians. The Athenians then convened a common council for these allies to join. Treaties with the Byzantines and Thebans were formed in rapid succession, modelled after the earlier alliances with the Chians and Mytileneans.¹⁸⁰ In the Theban treaty, a stele of the allies on the Akropolis is mentioned, presumably a reference to the terms of the earlier compacts Diodorus mentions. An additional clause refers to oaths taken by envoys, seventeen in total, twelve Athenians and five representatives of the allies, probably the island poleis Diodorus enumerated, whom he describes as allies of the Thebans.¹⁸¹ This suggests an early inception of the Second Athenian Confederacy to prevent further Spartan aggression, with Athenian-Theban collaboration at its heart.¹⁸²

The new network proved its worth three months later (378). Sphodrias, the Spartan harmost at Thespiai, decided to march his troops to Attica during the night to raid the Piraeus. His decision has puzzled scholars as the Piraeus was impossible to reach in a night’s march. Xenophon’s use of the verb προσποιέω suggests Sphodrias pretended to go one place but went elsewhere. Buckler therefore argues the harbour was never the goal.¹⁸³ Its purpose was to intimidate the Athenians in the wake of their diplomatic endeavours with the Thebans. Kleombrotos could have instigated the attack, encouraged by Athenian signs of hesitation over a looming conflict. A reminder of Spartan power could have swayed the mood in favour of less hawkish Athenians, especially with Spartan embassies present in the city.¹⁸⁴

But the botched raid had the opposite effect.¹⁸⁵ Compounding matters was the subsequent treatment of Sphodrias. His trial in absentia suggests the Spartans were keen to de-escalate the situation. His acquittal, probably through the negotiation of Kleombrotos and Agesilaos, sent a different signal.¹⁸⁶ This lack of concern for justice gave the Athenians the ammunition needed to proclaim a violation of the King’s Peace, the perfect pretext to expand their nexus of alliances. From the seed of six poleis blossomed a multilateral coalition comprising more than forty poleis. A massive stele, sometimes hailed as the most interesting epigraphic legacy of fourth-century Athens, records the extended invitation to other poleis.¹⁸⁷

There was no denying the Confederacy was now at war with the Spartans. War clouds were gathering above the Peloponnese but drifted towards Boiotia in spring 378. A full army of Spartan allies headed to Boiotia, led by Agesilaos, who came out of retirement for the occasion to punish his Theban nemesis.¹⁸⁸ The ensuing conflict, called the Boiotian Wars, proved the wisdom of Theban-Athenian collaboration. Their combined efforts kept the Spartans from defeating the Thebans and established a common front in Boiotia.¹⁸⁹ The war ended in 375 after the Spartans suffered significant losses on land at Tegyra and against the navies of the Confederacy at Naxos and Alyzia.¹⁹⁰ Xenophon claims the Boiotians afterwards marched against their neighbours and subdued them, but this is to be rejected, since this is a process that likely took years rather than weeks, as Emily Mackil notes.¹⁹¹ This process involved the removal of pro-Spartan elements from poleis such as Plataia and Thespiai to establish a secure perimeter against possible Spartan incursions.

In autumn 375 the Persian King summoned the Greeks for a renewal of the King’s Peace, a welcome reprieve for the warring parties.¹⁹² The defeats had drained the Spartan motivation for war and the Athenians were buckling under financial pressure, exacerbated by the Theban reluctance to contribute to the maintenance of the fleet. The Thebans were especially unwilling to conclude a treaty because of their recent successes in Boiotia. The treaty nevertheless happened, recognising the Spartans as hegemons on land and Athenians on the sea.¹⁹³

Xenophon attributes the treaty to a growing fear of Theban power among the Athenians and Spartans. However, he mostly divulges his dislike for the Thebans and retrojects a later attitude among segments of Spartan and Athenian society. This part of the Hellenica was probably written after the Battle of Mantinea and the rise of Theban power, thereby distorting Xenophon’s views of these years.¹⁹⁴ This allows his moralistic tendencies to emerge and exculpate both parties from enacting an imperialistic peace that only served their purposes. This mirrors the later developments of the Spartan-Athenian collaboration against the Thebans, implying the latter’s hunger for power was ultimately the cause of the rapprochement between former enemies (Chapter 3.1.3). Lingering grudges over the lack of Theban financial contributions may have been a factor, but that did not cause friction between the Athenians and their Theban allies. The Thebans justifiably refused because they were exempted from paying syntaxeis, unlike other members of the alliance.¹⁹⁵ Their financial situation was also dire: there was no financial infrastructure to maintain their army and contribute to the fleet.¹⁹⁶ Nor was the re-establishment of the koinon a frightening prospect. In 395 the alliance had been with the koinon. A resuscitation of Theban power in the region was not a surprise considering the re-establishment of the boiotarcheia after the expulsion of the Spartans.

An exciting find from Thebes sheds new light on the contemporary neighbourly relations. It concerns an alliance between the Thebans and the Histiaians on Euboia and can – with some minor reservations – be dated to 377/6.¹⁹⁷ The text runs as follows:

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[- - - - - - - - -?μὲ ἐξε͂μεν καταλ]-

ύ̣εσθαι [τὸ] ν̣ πόλεμον ḥι̣στ̣ι̣αι̣έ̣-

ας χορὶς Θεβαιον· hαγεμονία-

ν δὲ ἐ͂μεν τõ πολέμο Θεβαίον καὶ̣

4κατὰ γᾶν καὶ κὰτ θάλατταν

   vacat

[––––––––––––––––]

[It will not be allowed for?]

the Histiaeans to abandon (?) the war

without the Thebans. The leadership

of the war will belong to the Thebans both

by land and by sea.

(trans. Aravantinos and Papazarkadas)

Histiaia was the only Euboian polis to remain loyal to the Spartans after the inception of the Second Athenian Confederacy. After an uprising of Theban prisoners in 378 the polis revolted.¹⁹⁸ The Thebans here claim a hierarchical role over their Euboian neighbour, but in 375 the Histaians joined the Athenian Confederacy, possibly at their instigation.¹⁹⁹ One could cynically argue that Histiaia’s inclusion was a restriction of Theban influence. But why would the Athenians alienate their strongest ally at this point? They had blatantly violated the terms themselves during Timotheos’ campaign in the Ionian Sea, making it unlikely they could evoke the King’s Peace to force the Thebans to give up Histiaia.²⁰⁰ If Theban assertiveness was a predicament, it was a firmly kept secret. Of course the Athenians were not above maintaining double standards, but it would have been counterproductive, especially if it strengthened the Thebans’ resolve not to pay for the allied fleet.

The renewal of the King’s Peace in 375 brought a (short) period of tranquillity to the Greek world.²⁰¹ Shortly after the peace the Spartans removed their garrisons from Boiotia either forcibly by treaty or due to a lack of resources to maintain forces abroad.²⁰² Their removal offered the Thebans the needed breathing space to settle matters in Boiotia. Lessons from the past taught them the fragility of an egalitarian koinon rife with internecine struggles. They could not rely on the goodwill of their neighbours. Straightforward domination, however, could curtail their perfidious Boiotian neighbours.

In the following years, several troublesome Boiotian poleis witnessed this change first-hand, as the Thebans debilitated them one by one. Thespiai was ‘συντελεῖν μόνον εἰς τὰς Θήβας’.²⁰³ This expression has been interpreted as a dissolution of the Thespian polity, their political independence taken away and their territory turned into an appendix of the Theban chora. After the Battle of Leuktra in 371 followed another round of punishments, this time leaving no stone unturned.²⁰⁴ The Plataians found themselves in a familiar fate, fleeing to Athens, with their town razed to the ground save for its sanctuaries (Chapter 4.1.3). Other poleis, such as Orchomenos and Oropos, eluded this fate: the Theban attempt in Orchomenos failed, whereas the Athenians took over Oropos sometime in 374 or 373 (Chapter 4.1.2).

These changes in the political landscape had the potential to break the Athenian-Theban alliance. The Thebans were stricto sensu in violation of the King’s Peace by their intervention in Boiotian poleis. Scholars therefore point to 373 as a breaking point in the relationship as the Athenians could not accept such blatant violations in their role as prostates of autonomia.²⁰⁵ But this line of reasoning can be countered. Neither of the assailed poleis were members of the Confederacy and were excluded from the peace of 375. If the peace was as short-lived as Xenophon describes, its effects would have worn out by the time of the Theban assaults on the Boiotian poleis. Moreover, the Athenians were equally infringing on the autonomia of poleis. Stasis was rife in several poleis in the Adriatic, such as Corcyra, and the Athenians had no qualms intervening there.²⁰⁶ Although the Athenians were not above hypocrisy, naively accepting their self-image as incongruent with the Thebans’ actions betrays a veneration for the Athenians rather than historical reality. Even if the alliance was strained, it remained intact: epigraphic evidence proves the Thebans were involved in the Confederacy after these events.²⁰⁷

Xenophon claims that disaffection with the Thebans prompted the Athenians to sue for peace with the Spartans in 371. Athenian ambassadors invited the Thebans to participate in the peace conference in Sparta.²⁰⁸ In my opinion, this demonstrates several things. First, the Theban actions against Thespiai and Plataia were prompted because the latter clung to their Spartan alliance. Subduing them could be viewed as part of the renewed conflict after 373. Second, the despatch of an Athenian embassy stresses the importance of the Thebans within the Confederacy. Their inclusion was regarded as vital to a successful compact.

Yet actions spoke louder than words. Whereas Xenophon is right in saying the Athenian attitude towards the Thebans changed – they did not ‘commend’ (ἐπῄνουν) them anymore – they certainly did not intervene on behalf of the beleaguered Boiotian poleis. They chose the middle way: to neither support nor oppose the Thebans. This indecisiveness shows the demos was equally hesitant to raise the war cry against the northern neighbours, despite the overtones of the Plataians and their supporters such as Isocrates. Involving the Thebans in the peace treaty was paramount to maintaining their alliance, and presumably to tame their expansionist ambitions in Boiotia.

The peace conference turned out to be a heated meeting. Xenophon provides an epitome of the speeches given by the Athenian ambassadors Kallias, Autokles and Kallistratos, who voice their concerns over Spartan and Theban conduct. They present the Athenians as just guardians of the autonomia clause and the King’s Peace, but without necessarily choosing sides (Chapter 3.1.3).²⁰⁹ Despite the reservations on each side, a treaty was finalised. Each city was to confirm the compact by taking oaths on their own behalf, but a change of heart in the Theban camp imploded the negotiations. The issue was a semantic one. The Thebans wished to take the oath on behalf of the Boiotoi, rather than the Thebans. This lead to their exclusion from the pact.²¹⁰ According to Xenophon, the Athenians en masse were elated at this course, hoping the subsequent clash would decimate the Thebans.²¹¹

The Spartans were disgruntled, the Athenians stood aloof and the Thebans were waiting for the expected hammering from the Spartans, who viewed themselves as guarantors of the autonomia and the incompatibility thereof – in their eyes – with the koinon. The Athenians found themselves in an enviable position. If the Spartans marched against the Thebans, the latter’s hopes of complete domination over Boiotia could be curbed. At the same time, the Athenians would continue to benefit from their alliance to keep Sparta at an appropriate distance. They had achieved their goal: a renewed dominance of the Aegean with the added benefit of having powerful friends in Thebes.

The Spartan army under Kleombrotos marched from Phocis to Boiotia hoping to punish the Thebans, only to find an unexpected humiliating defeat on the fields of Leuktra in 371.²¹² The Thebans shocked the Greek world and shattered any remaining notion of Spartan invincibility.²¹³ News of the victory reached Athens, with a further request for aid. Instead of a warm welcome, the herald was met with indifference. Normal courtesies were not extended to him, nor was there any response to the call for help.²¹⁴

In the wake of Leuktra a new conference was convened. Attempts to broker a peace between the warring parties broke down when the Thebans abstained from attending and were automatically excluded.²¹⁵ Perhaps they were disillusioned with the recent course of events and decided Spartan stubbornness would not be subdued by one military setback. The former treaty was hardly changed. This time the Athenians were guardians of the peace. A more significant alteration was the compulsory clause: if any signatory violated the treaty, the others were obliged to defend the wronged.

Indifferent to the new treaty, the Thebans went about their business. The Thespians had proven themselves unreliable allies at Leuktra, and punishment was meted out accordingly. A year later, it was the Orchomenians’ turn. This time the carrot was a better weapon than the stick. Instead of subjugation, the Orchomenians were reckoned to belong to the territory of the allies. It is a rather curious phrase, but implies they became integrated into the koinon.²¹⁶ The Thebans also looked across their borders: the Euboian poleis changed their allegiance after Leuktra, undermining Athenian prestige and endangering the latter’s grasp over Oropos.²¹⁷

Confidence in Thebes was rising and with disgruntled Peloponnesian communities rebelling and seeking help from Boiotia, Spartan power in the peninsula quickly eroded.²¹⁸ They forged lasting ties with these communities, if the proxeny award for Timeas son of Cheirikrates, a Laconian, belongs to this period.²¹⁹ Most telling was the re-establishment of an independent Messene.²²⁰ The radical recalibration of the political landscape inevitably had repercussions for the Athenian-Theban relationship. The defeat of Sparta effectively ended the Peloponnesian War, taking a major force out of the equation.²²¹ The ascension of the Thebans as the champions against Spartan aggression placed the Athenians in a predicament. The situation no longer allowed them to bide their time and strengthen their position while the Thebans and Spartans wore each other down. Their dilemma was whether ‘they must … forgo their dreams of hegemony or to devote their energies to maintain the balance of power in Greece’.²²² For the moment they chose neither and the Theban alliance remained in place.

The invasion of the Peloponnese in 370/69 proved a turning point. It was a coup de grâce for the fledging Spartan ambitions in the Greek world. For the Thebans, the first foray outside of Boiotia and Phocis in decades was a novelty and demonstrated their new-found confidence. Their assertiveness in the Peloponnese validated Athenian trepidations over the koinon’s growing power. Their estrangement reached its apex when the Athenians agreed to an alliance with the Spartans in 369. It was then, and only then, that the neighbourly collaboration finally disintegrated (Chapter 3.1.3).²²³

2.6 An Intermezzo of Uneasy Enmity (369–346)

With a few rigorous strokes, the Thebans repainted the canvas of the Greek political world, placing themselves alongside the Spartans and Athenians in the annals of Greek history. Textbooks characteristically restrict the zenith of Theban power to the period between Leuktra and Mantinea, following Xenophon in finishing his Hellenica after the Battle of Mantinea in 362. Scholars have been inclined to follow this assessment.²²⁴ One reason is the heroization of the brilliant generals Pelopidas and Epameinondas, who are ascribed such importance that their deaths inaugurated an inescapable decline for the Thebans. Their brilliance is undeniable, as was their influence on Theban plans. But the currents of history are not just shaped by individuals. These ripple its surface, whereas the larger waves are created by long-term developments, such as geography, biology and sociology, and continue unabatedly.²²⁵ That is not a call towards determinism, but merely to point out that the right conditions were in place for these individuals to flourish.²²⁶ Thebes survived the deaths of its eminent statesmen through other talented leaders such as Pammenes. A perfectly timed demographic boom ensured that the Thebans could benefit from these leaders.²²⁷ At the zenith of their power, they both incorporated the fertile lands of the Parasopia and subdued the recalcitrant neighbours who had thwarted a Theban-led koinon in previous times. Fortifications arose at Siphai, Koroneia, Eleutherai and Haliartos, among other places, solidifying the grasp of the koinon over these areas. These fortresses also offered protection for its populace due to the horrifying experiences of the recurrent invasions during the Boiotian Wars.²²⁸

Their rise in standing after Leuktra meant the only true competitor for Theban dominance over Greece was Athens. Sparta, despite its august hegemonic role in the fourth century, was suffering a population decline, making its leading position increasingly untenable after 371.²²⁹ Athens had suffered severe losses in the Peloponnesian War that could have struck down any polis. Yet the population decrease had unforeseen advantages, providing stability and equality, preventing a collapse similar to Sparta’s. This stability enabled them to remain a force throughout the fourth century.²³⁰ Their biggest obstacle to influence and a good reputation was their irresponsible pursuit to recapture Amphipolis, which clouded their judgement and put a severe strain on their resources and the relationship with their allies.²³¹

The deck was therefore stacked against a benign neighbourly co-existence. Yet there is remarkably little hostility between the Athenians and Thebans over a prolonged period. A look at the years between the breakdown of the alliance (369) and the anti-Macedonian alliance (339/8) reveals there were few occasions they were at loggerheads. Mostly, their threats remained in the realm of words, rather than swords.

That does not mean there were no conflicts. The deaths of rulers in Macedonia and Thessaly left a power vacuum the Thebans were eager to fill. Their presence in Macedonia was strengthened through personal ties and shielded against an increased presence of Athenians in the region, who still relished the possibility of capturing Amphipolis.²³² Convulsions in the Peloponnese led to Theban interventions there. To settle matters in the long term, a peace conference was convened in Delphi in 368. The negotiations between the Thebans and Spartans broke down, however, over the acknowledgement of Messenian independence.²³³

The next year the Thebans took recourse to the best option to solidify their role in Greece: a Common Peace. They were determined to have the Persian King endorse it. An affirmation of the prostates’ role would work wonders for their standing. They would replace the Spartans and Athenians, and any notion of dissolving the koinon and the rebuttal of de jure recognition of their claim over Boiotia would be dismissed. No longer would the autonomia clause be abused by external powers to intervene in Boiotian affairs. Informing their allies of their intentions – and thereby comply with the stipulations of their alliances that prevented unilateral decision-taking – a peace conference was convened beyond the confines of Greece. Instead, it took place in Susa, deep inside the Persian Empire.²³⁴

What set this conference apart from earlier conferences was the Theban role, their assertiveness reflected in the terms presented to the King. This time there was no mention of dissolving the koinon, nor of a division of hegemonies. Instead, other powers needed to be curtailed, which meant insisting on Messenian independence to diminish the vestiges of Spartan hegemony in the Peloponnese. The naval ambitions of the Athenians had long disturbed the King and these were now openly condemned, leading to the demand for their navy to be beached.²³⁵ Under these terms, the King proclaimed his support for a renewal of the peace under Theban aegis. Predictably, both the Spartans and Athenians disagreed.

To finalise the treaty another conference was convened in Thebes (367/6), where the oath-taking would take place. The conference turned into a diplomatic fiasco. The Arcadians walked out, while other representatives bade the Thebans to send delegations to their respective cities, should they wish to obtain their oaths. The Thebans willingly obliged, only to be confronted with refusal from the Corinthians, the first stop on their travels. Other poleis swiftly followed. Their refusal, according to Xenophon, ended the Theban hopes of gaining the hegemony over Greece (diplomatically).²³⁶

Scholars have been quick to denote Pelopidas’ endeavours as a diplomatic debacle. It was not as successful as hoped, with the obstreperous Athenians and Spartans unwilling to accede to the treaty, and their allies following suit.²³⁷ The repeated abuses of the King’s Peace by both Athens and Sparta had transformed the protection the Common Peace offered to smaller poleis into a hollow shell, incapable of preventing any disruptive action by the hegemons.²³⁸ It must have affronted the Thebans to be refused this position by other Greeks, but it did not stop them from exploring other venues to promulgate their credentials as leaders of the Greeks. At Delphi their increased presence followed the footsteps of previous hegemons eager to display their dominance (Chapter 5.1.3). Another, more subtle, propagandistic tool was the possible adaptation of the Ionic script to symbolise their new leading role in the Greek world as a Panhellenic power.²³⁹

A year later (366/5) another ratification of ‘Pelopidas’ Peace’ was explored, after the Oropians had thrown in their lot with the Thebans at the expense of the Athenians (Chapter 4.1.2). A peace was concluded, with the Corinthians and others adhering to the terms of 367. That these Peloponnesian allies were ‘allowed’ to accept the peace demonstrated the Spartans’ weakness.²⁴⁰ The Athenians joined too, allegedly obtaining a royal acknowledgement of their claim to Amphipolis, perhaps in exchange for rescinding their claims on Oropos.²⁴¹ The Persian King had rebellious satraps on his mind. Satisfying the Athenians could keep them out of his domains, an acute problem as events in Samos (366) proved.²⁴² The Spartans were again isolated over their refusal to acknowledge Messenia’s independence.

The peace finally gave the Thebans the recognition they were looking for. One threat remained: the Athenians – with their navy, access to the grain baskets of the Pontic region and protection of their Confederacy. Events at Oropos opened a window of opportunity for the koinon when Athenian allies refused to confront the Thebans.²⁴³ The allies’ reluctance showed the fickleness of the Confederacy, especially since the establishment of an Athenian cleruchy in Samos (366) evoked memories of the fifth-century empire among the members of the alliance.²⁴⁴ The pact’s primary aim to protect against Spartan aggression seemed a waning memory in light of Sparta’s fortunes. The Spartan-Athenian alliance of 369 undermined a cornerstone of the Confederacy’s existence, and the time was ripe for the Boiotians to deliver a final blow to its foundations. A plan was conceived to launch a massive fleet of a hundred ships to tour the Aegean and convince members of the Confederacy to leave the alliance. Judging from their extensive contemporary proxeny network (see Figure 2.3), the Boiotians were serious about creating a large naval network around the Aegean.²⁴⁵ The people of Rhodes, Chios and Byzantium were specifically targeted to assist the scheme because of their wealth and strategic locations.²⁴⁶

Figure 2.3 Boiotian maritime network.

What set this endeavour apart is its execution. Whereas the Spartans were brought to their knees militarily, this time diplomacy and symbolism were the weapon of choice. The Common Peace of 366/5 tied the Athenians to that pact, but their power base remained intact. Their ambitious, expansionist nature made them a perpetual danger to the Boiotians’ security, even with the Spartans subdued. By demolishing the foundation of their power, the Confederacy, and threatening their food supply by detaching Byzantium from it, the Boiotians could seriously weaken their biggest obstacle to dominance. The aim was not the future subjugation of the Athenians. Despite Epameinondas’ alleged claims to bring the Akropolis’ Propylaia to the Cadmeia and Isocrates’ alarmist message of a Theban hegemony by land and sea, the plan was probably to neutralise the Athenians, thereby ensuring their continued obedience to the Common Peace.²⁴⁷ The best method was not challenging them to a naval battle, but subtly utilising Boiotian connections throughout the Aegean and using persuasion to erode the Athenians’ power. Martin Dreher’s investigation of the Confederacy demonstrates most of the defections from this alliance were not necessarily the result of ‘anti-Athenian’ attitudes.²⁴⁸ These mostly existed among poleis forcefully brought into the Confederacy. Among voluntary members, there were few defections. This strengthens my point: that it was a Boiotian attempt to showcase their suitability as a leader, rather than foment anti-Athenian rebellions.

For the koinon with its limited economic resources, working within the confines of the Common Peace was a safer way than sinking large amounts of money into a fleet. Scholars previously looked eastwards for this endeavour’s financier, but the involvement of the Persian King has since been nuanced or even rejected.²⁴⁹ Recent investigations of Persian behaviour vis-à-vis the Greeks in the preceding period advocate a different view of the monarch’s interventions in Greece.²⁵⁰ Occupied with rebellious satraps and limited resources, the Persian King was probably less inclined to invest substantial sums in boosting the Boiotians, as his sponsorship of the Common Peace of 366/5 brought the desired stability on the edges of his empire. This was the main royal ideology and the impetus behind this institution. That goal was already achieved with the Athenians voluntarily joining that pact. This lack of Persian financial firepower explains the ephemeral nature of the Boiotian fleet, which disappears from our sources after Diodorus’ mention. He never refers to a large fleet when writing about Epameinondas’ voyage, such as when he encounters the Athenian admiral Laches. This lends credence to the possibility that the fleet of a hundred ships was never realised, but constituted a smaller flotilla, perhaps buttressed by ships borrowed from the Rhodians, Chians and Byzantines.²⁵¹ A fleet of around forty ships, which was not unconceivable for the Thebans to construct, sufficed for the ambassadorial voyage envisioned. Under cover of the Peace they would be safe from Athenian forces, while this arrangement granted the financial flexibility to wage war on other fronts. If successful, it would be a masterstroke, adding further prestige to the Thebans’ role as prostates and demonstrating to the Greeks other ways of maintaining stability and peace that did not require violations of the Common Peace.²⁵²

The measure of the scheme’s success has sparked intense debate. The debate revolves around Diodorus’ enigmatic phrasing of Epameinondas’ accomplishments (Diod. 15.79.1: ἰδίας τὰς πόλεις τοῖς Θηβαίοις ἐποίησεν). Modern scholarship is divided into three camps. One side argues that the voyage achieved little and was a failure.²⁵³ On the other side, there are scholars who argue for a full-blown revolt against the Athenians.²⁵⁴ A moderate position grants a minimal amount of success, believing the Byzantines revolted against the Athenians, but debates whether further rebellions took place.²⁵⁵

Although Epameinondas’ actions were intended to undermine the Athenians’ base of power, they were not inherently bellicose in nature. There was no aggression involved nor were his actions overt acts of war. The scheme aimed at dislodging members from the Athenian Confederacy. Its aim was to demonstrate to other Greeks that unlike the previous purveyors of the Common Peace, they acted according to the stipulations of that treaty and were fit to act as its guarantor.²⁵⁶ The measure of success depends on one’s conception of its objectives. If the intention was to create a Theban thalassocracy to replace the Athenian Confederacy, then obviously it failed, despite efforts to create a lasting network.²⁵⁷ If the objective was to deprive the Athenians of access to the Hellespont and wreak havoc within their alliance, then the voyage was successful. The latter represented a massive boost to the Theban cause in the atomised political landscape of the fourth century.

In 364 the Boiotians solved matters closer to home. Despite the death of Pelopidas, interventions in Thessaly ensured the Thebans of a majority of votes on the Amphictyonic Council, while a plot instigated by discontent elements in Orchomenos led to a subjugation of this recalcitrant polis.²⁵⁸ Their hands free of troublesome factions at home, the Thebans again turned towards the Peloponnese. Their involvement led to the Battle of Mantinea in 362. It pitted two large coalitions against each other, with the Athenians and Spartans on one side, and the Thebans on the other, constituting one of the few clashes between the two neighbours on a battlefield. It was the greatest battle the Greek world (hitherto) ever witnessed and many lives were lost, including that of Epameinondas. As so often in the fragmented political landscape of the fourth century, it solved preciously little.²⁵⁹

An atmosphere of exhaustion took over the Greek world after the battle. Beaten down and war weary, all warring parties except the Spartans renewed the Common Peace in 362/1.²⁶⁰ Most of the terms stayed the same. What changed was the explicit injunction prohibiting the King from intervening in Greek affairs, if the enigmatic decree from Argos known as the Greek response to the Satraps’ Revolt can be trusted. It stipulates that all adherents to the peace shall act in unison, should the King or anybody from his territory move against the signees. In exchange, his claims to Asia Minor are acknowledged.²⁶¹ There appears to have been no single polis claiming to champion the treaty. Instead, an extensive pact was created that included the Athenians, Thebans and several other larger poleis, except the Spartans. The Peloponnese and Arcadia remained a hotbed of conflict, proving the battle of Mantinea had not alleviated any of the problems haunting the Greek political landscape earlier.²⁶²

The next decade (350s) formed a watershed. One factor is the succession crises in Thrace and Macedonia, prompting Athenian intervention.²⁶³ Thracian matters were settled in a satisfactory matter, but in Macedonia the young king Philip hoodwinked the Athenians into a deal to safeguard his inheritance by promising to hand Amphipolis to them in due course. Two years later (357) their naivety was exposed when the Macedonians occupied Amphipolis and did not surrender it, starting the War on Amphipolis.²⁶⁴ A second issue in 357 was the cessation of two members of the Confederacy, Chios and Rhodes, which were supported by the Byzantines and Coans in their attempts to break away, the Social War. Deciding the war in the rebels’ favour was the threat of an all-out war from the Persian King, who grew weary of Athenian marauding in the eastern Aegean.²⁶⁵ A third problem was the outbreak of the Third Sacred War, which pitted the Thebans as leaders of the Amphictyony against the Phocians and their Spartan and Athenian allies. This conflict proved to be the downfall of the Thebans, as it drained their resources and opened the way for Philip of Macedon to enter the fray in Central Greece as champion of Apollo and Delphi.²⁶⁶ The conflict raged for eleven years and ended in the Peace of Philokrates (357–346), but the Athenians and Thebans never engaged in any direct fights.

The one exception between Mantinea and Chaironeia was a struggle in Euboia. Two opposing factions on the island pulled in both powers to settle a civil war. In a remarkably quick campaign the Athenians emerged victorious, resulting in the Euboians’ withdrawal from their alliance with the Boiotians.²⁶⁷ Nicholas Cross blames the demise of the Boiotian influence here and in the Peloponnese on the lack of lasting personal ties with the new allies, but this overlooks the divergent goals in different war theatres.²⁶⁸ The Boiotians realised the need to create enduring relationships, as shown by their maritime endeavour. In the Peloponnese, they aimed to create stable economic links with the Peloponnesian poleis. Their allies started minting on the same Aeginetan standard after Leuktra.²⁶⁹ Simon Hornblower echoes Ephoros’ statement about the Boiotian pedigree by stating that ‘Theban cultural baggage was so limited in comparison to the Spartan agoge and Athenian paideia, leaving preciously little but medism and treachery’, yet their dedications at Delphi counter that notion (Chapter 5.1.3).²⁷⁰

An overview of thirty years of Athenian-Boiotian hostility from Mantinea to Chaironeia is brief. It constitutes one pitched battle, a diplomatic naval campaign, a small skirmishing campaign in Euboia and the arbitrated dispute over Oropos in 366. For two main Greek powers, especially neighbours who were supposedly natural enemies, that appears relatively minor. This takes on added importance in light of the wars that were fought during this time. The Sacred War offered ample opportunities for hostilities, considering the Thebans were hamstrung in Phocis. The Thebans could have similarly profited from their alliance with Philip of Macedon to challenge an Athenian Confederacy without some of its strongest members. Yet neither pounced on the opportunity. Instead, they focused on other more pressing issues – for the Boiotians the matters in Phocis; for the Athenians in the Aegean – with little interest in exploiting the other’s weaknesses. It is a stern reminder that the neighbourly relations were more complex than a dualistic ‘friendly’ or ‘hostile’.

It is tempting to view this inchoate warring as the result of a short-lived Theban hegemony, with the Battle of Mantinea quelling Theban hegemonial aspirations. The death of the charismatic leaders Pelopidas (364) and Epameinondas (362) exposed the inherent weaknesses of the Theban hegemony: the lack of a sustainable institutional framework to integrate their allies.²⁷¹ This argument revolves around an inscription detailing payments of war contributions to the Thebans during the Third Sacred War and the mention of Byzantine synedroi bringing these funds.²⁷² There are grounds to believe there was no extensive network akin to the Delian League in place, but some formal mechanism must have directed these funds, or made decisions pertinent to the allies.²⁷³ The most convincing support for this view comes from Albert Schachter, who argues the Thebans’ insatiable obsession to finally subdue the Phocians led to a long-drawn-out war that unveiled their Achilles’ heel: monetary penury.²⁷⁴ Its solution was manpower, as the Boiotians repeatedly ‘mercenaried’ their troops to willing rebellious satraps or the Persian king. Schachter also manages to ‘push’ the period of Boiotian domination into the 350s. Mantinea had a negligible effect on the Greek political landscape and did little to alter Thebes’ position as the dominant military force. Xenophon’s remark that Mantinea put the Greek world into more disarray was therefore not unfounded.²⁷⁵

The Boiotians remained the strongest force in Greece, despite the death of their most brilliant leaders. Boiotia was under Theban sway and the Delphic Amphictyony firmly under their control. The time was ripe to remove the final obstacle to domination and overshadow Athens. But instead of cementing their status as a unilateral superpower, the koinon’s endeavours in the 350s devolved into a quagmire that drained their finances. They fought an indefatigable foe whose income seemed endless, the Phocians. This opened the door for Philip of Macedon, who came to dominate the Greek political landscape in the following decades. His meteoric rise to power eventually opened the way for an Atheno-Theban reconciliation.

2.7 A Brave New World: Macedon Enters the Fray (346–323)

From the ashes of the Third Sacred War arose the Macedonian phoenix under Philip. The energetic king turned his kingdom around, transforming it from a backwater exploited by external political actors into a political and military powerhouse.²⁷⁶ His victory in the Sacred War confirmed his star was rising, with the Boiotians and Athenians taking a back seat. During the conflict and its immediate aftermath, the king foreshadowed the silhouettes of his later strategy: a carrot for the Athenians, but a stick for the Boiotians.²⁷⁷ On the one hand, he offered a bilateral alliance and peace treaty to the Athenians in 348, surprising even his staunchest opponents.²⁷⁸ The king’s reasons for peace can only be guessed at, but perhaps it was to isolate the Thebans from the Athenians and prevent a rapprochement between the two strongest poleis in Greece.²⁷⁹ On the other hand, he ignored requests for help from Thebes in 347 – both the king and the koinon were fighting on the side of the Amphictyony against the Phocians and their allies – and was apathetic to their concerns.²⁸⁰ Instead, he let them revel in their discomfort, allowing Tilphousa and Chorsiai to be transformed into Phocian bulwarks in western Boiotia before sending a small expeditionary force to aid the koinon.²⁸¹ Perhaps it was due to personal reasons after his period of ransom in Thebes as Diodorus writes that the king enjoyed seeing the victors of Leuktra humbled.²⁸²

The Thebans proved their resilience by defeating the Phocians at Abai, prompting the latter to call upon their hitherto tepid allies to become more involved in exchange for the control of three strategically located towns occupying the Thermopylai pass (see Figure 2.4).²⁸³ Both the Athenians and Spartans complied and sent contingents to block the passage. Diplomatic exchanges between the Macedonians and Athenians, and other belligerents, nevertheless continued. Numerous embassies went back and forth, only to be played by the Macedonian king, who meanwhile expanded his territories in Thrace.

Figure 2.4 Important places during Third Sacred War.

The source material for these embassies is problematic. The most extensive sources, Aeschines and Demosthenes, provide information in speeches from later years when the treaty itself was highly controversial and castigated. Narrative histories are lacking.²⁸⁴ What seems certain is that the final blow came when news reached the Athenian embassies of the Phocians’ unconditional surrender to Philip. The king’s takeover of the Thermopylai pass sent Athens into a frenzy, and precautions were made for an impending invasion.²⁸⁵

Demosthenes and other like-minded citizens saw the war clouds gathering. Others, such as Aeschines, believed the end of the war could effectuate a positive outcome. They hoped that Philip would act as a harbinger of justice to the Thebans by restoring Plataia and other Boiotian poleis. Their beliefs were fuelled by calculations of interest, believing the Boiotians were becoming too powerful and arrogant, providing sufficient motives for Philip to punish them, rather than the Phocians. That certain segments of Athenian society honestly believed the king would negate his oaths shows amoral calculations were not considered implausible in interstate contexts. But the accuracy of these claims is doubtful.²⁸⁶ The Athenians finally assented to the terms of the Peace of Philokrates in 346 after realising the Phocian cause was lost. The Peace was a negative agreement, a mechanism to guarantee the parties involved refrained from action.²⁸⁷ The Phocians received a separate treaty and were punished accordingly, but not to a draconian extent.²⁸⁸ One of the punishments was the Phocians’ loss of their seat on the Delphic Amphictyony, which shifted to Philip. Combined with his earlier votes obtained through his Thessalian takeover, the king was in control of the Amphictyonic Council, a honour that previously rested with the Boiotians.

In the following years the Macedonian threat withered but in 344 the atmosphere became increasingly bellicose. Philip’s influence in Greece was steadily growing and Demosthenes jostled for influence in the Athenian Assembly, hoping to thwart the king’s process.²⁸⁹ Confronted with continued obstinate Athenian behaviour, Philip decided a different tactic was needed to weaken them. Instead of retaliating with brute force, he offered to modify the current peace treaty by transforming it into a common peace in 344.²⁹⁰

Philip had studied his political history well. The synedrion of the Athenian Confederacy preferred the common peace option. Its implementation would have created a multilateral peace that severed the hierarchical ties between Athens and its allies, replacing it with a direct peace between Philip and the members. This isolated the Athenians from their defensive network. The proposal ultimately broke down because of unrealistic counter-proposals by the Athenians.²⁹¹ Anti-Macedonian politicians were now gearing up for war and their influence gradually grew.²⁹² Demosthenes, for instance, spoke out against the peace proposal. His Second Philippic warns of Philip’s danger and juxtaposed Athens with poleis such as Thebes, selfishly aiding foreign powers as they had done in the Persian Wars.²⁹³

Demosthenes’ premonition of war became reality in the years after 343. Philip’s subjugation of Thrace and the attempts to replace Euboian leadership with friendly regimes put the Peace of Philokrates under further strain.²⁹⁴ Around this time Demosthenes started to make conciliatory remarks about the Boiotians.²⁹⁵ Perhaps he aimed to include them in a grand alliance against the Macedonians. His mission achieved little, with only former enemies like the Byzantines and Kallias of Chalkis welcoming the call.²⁹⁶ Shortly afterwards Demosthenes delivered his Fourth Philippic, reiterating the need for a broad anti-Macedonian alliance.²⁹⁷ War waged on in the Pontic area, with the Athenians supporting their beleaguered Byzantine allies. The final straw came in 340: Philip captured a massive Athenian grain fleet, prompting them to officially declare war upon the king.²⁹⁸

Matters grew worse when an Amphictyonic Council meeting in spring 339 jeopardised the peace between the Athenians and Boiotians. The cause was the Athenian dedication of golden shields at the Apollo temple in Delphi, meant to embarrass the Boiotians (Chapter 5.1.3).²⁹⁹ The Amphissans officially brought the charges forward, but the impetus for this action probably came from their Theban allies.³⁰⁰ Despite the initial bleak outlook for a rapprochement, the dispute inadvertently opened the possibility to achieve Demosthenes’ long cherished wish: a neighbourly alliance.

Rather than denying the charge, Aeschines, one of the Athenian delegates, turned the tables on the Amphissans. He indicated the Amphissans’ use of the sacred plains near Cirrha to the amphictyons, whose inspection of the plains confirmed his claims. Faced with an ultimatum by the council, the Amphissans assumed their Boiotian allies would shield them from harm. But they abstained from intervention. In the following meeting Philip was appointed leader of the Amphictyonic army. Both the Boiotians and Athenians refrained from attending: the Boiotians because they had no desire to participate in a vote to declare war on their allies, the Athenians because Demosthenes persuaded them to abstain due to the possible detrimental consequences for the relationship with the Boiotians.³⁰¹

The stars aligned perfectly for a rapprochement. An alliance proper, however, was still in the works, despite some reconciliatory gestures. Philip had set his sights on invading Attica and from his base in Elateia made overtures to his Boiotian allies to join in the invasion or stay aloof. Terrified at this prospect, the Athenians sent delegations to Thebes to convince them to join in an alliance against Philip. Much to their surprise, and after significant concessions, the Boiotian council preferred an alliance with the Athenians over supporting their Macedonian ally (Chapter 3.4.4).³⁰² Instead of an unimpeded march to intimidate the unrepentant Athenians, Philip now faced a coalition of Greek poleis led by the two strongest powers in mainland Greece: the Boiotians and Athenians. In the initial phase of the war the coalition forces achieved some minor successes.³⁰³ Undeterred, but weary of the costs, Philip sent embassies to both Thebes and Athens to solve the situation diplomatically.³⁰⁴ These attempts were fruitless and the warring parties called out for more support. Supporting Philip were the Phocians and Thessalians. The anti-Macedonian coalition mustered the help of eight other polities.³⁰⁵ The armies met on the fields of Chaironeia.³⁰⁶ The result was a grand victory for Philip, who now dominated Greece, marking a significant turning point in Greek history (Chapter 5.2.9).³⁰⁷ The battle’s result formed a watershed in Athens’ foreign policy. Treaties dominate the epigraphical landscape prior to the battle, but the post-338 policy aimed at cementing ties with individuals to further their goals rather than bilateralism.³⁰⁸

Poleis were now no longer completely independent. While the leaders in Sparta, Athens and Thebes always factored the Persians into their deliberations, they were still capable of overthrowing incumbent hegemons through collaborations with other powers.³⁰⁹ The Macedonian victory ended that.³¹⁰ The power of Macedon was too large to be toppled, even with the support of all the Greek poleis. As before, the fragmented political landscape prevented a unified front. The coming of Macedon may have even been celebrated by some poleis, who had suffered from the oppressive hegemons in Central Greece and the Peloponnese.

Obviously, that had repercussions for the Athenians and Boiotians. Philip wasted no time in settling the score after his victory. First on the list were his former allies in Thebes. They were forced to ransom the bodies of their fallen at Chaironeia. The city was garrisoned by a Macedonian force, its pro-Macedonian exiles restored and a small clique installed to rule the koinon. The koinon was not dissolved, but Theban influence was gravely reduced by the (proposed) restoration of Plataia, the reinstitution of Orchomenos and Thespiai, and the independence of Oropos.³¹¹ The Athenians, however, received reconciliations. The bodies of their fallen were restituted for free and their claims to islands such as Lemnos acknowledged. In return, the Confederacy needed to be disbanded. Both powers were reduced to their core, rendering any possible collaboration feebler in the face of Macedonian power.

The disparate treatment is striking but makes sense when considering Philip’s aims. The Boiotians had broken their treaty as allies and their ‘immoral’ behaviour deserved punishment. The garrison in Thebes controlled one of the main axes of transportation in Greece. The Athenians were simply an enemy who deserved lenient treatment. Concessions could sway them into reconciliation, as cooperation was more desirable than resistance, especially as their navy could be vital for an upcoming invasion of Persia.³¹² The Athenians thanked Philip by dedicating statues of Philip and his son Alexander in the Agora, but at the same time appointed Demosthenes to deliver the Funeral Oration of the fallen.³¹³

Nevertheless, it was imperative for Philip to consolidate his gains. To accomplish this he reverted to a familiar mechanism: the Common Peace. This time it encompassed all the Greeks while its guarantor was Philip, not the Persian King. Philip went a step further and created a grand alliance, the League of Corinth, ostensibly brought into life to combat the Persians.³¹⁴ The king was crowned the hegemon of this new Greek army. Under Macedonian tutelage that most elusive of Panhellenist goals had been fulfilled: the Greeks united to combat the common foe.³¹⁵

Philip’s intentions were abruptly interrupted by his premature death in 336, leaving the Macedonian throne to his young son Alexander.³¹⁶ For many Greek poleis, including Athens and Thebes, this was an opportune moment to voice their dismay over the new political order and remove the Macedonians as hegemons from the League of Corinth. But the embers of freedom soon died out. Rumours of an impending rebellion prompted Alexander to move his army into Greece and many poleis acknowledged Alexander as the king. The new king then convened a meeting at Corinth with the members of the League to appoint him his father’s successor in the Greek war against Persia for revenge and eleutheria.

News of the young king’s alleged death in 335, however, sparked a new revolutionary fire. Fomenting the rebellious sentiment in Thebes was the return of anti-Macedonian exiles from Athens.³¹⁷ The Athenians, spurred on by Demosthenes – and possibly Persian gold – sent money and weapons to the insurgents. The old alliance was rekindled, with the Assembly voting to forge a defensive alliance with the Thebans.³¹⁸ It was a presumptuous move, as Alexander was still alive. The king initially intended to be lenient. He needed all the troops he could gather for a campaign against Persia and the Thebans were a crack force. But the Thebans desired no reconciliation and hoped to incite further rebellion by appealing to all Greeks to join them in their struggle for eleutheria and to topple the tyrant.³¹⁹ With that, the Thebans struck at the core of the message Philip and Alexander espoused at Corinth.

Anxious that the scourge of rebellion would spread, the king swiftly moved his armies into Greece. His rapid approach froze the Athenians, who refrained from militarily supporting the Thebans. Meanwhile, the young king defeated the Thebans in battle, entered the city and razed it to the ground, except for its sanctuaries. Women were raped, children enslaved, and the men slaughtered. Few escaped the rampage, a prerogative left to proxenoi of the Macedonians and priests and priestesses. Those with other sympathies who managed to escape found their way to Athens or the Persian army.³²⁰ Thebes’ destruction radically recalibrated the political and physical landscape of Boiotia and Greece. Some may have rejoiced due to their previous difficult relationship with the Thebans, but for a majority of Greece, there was little to be celebrated.³²¹ Central Greece entered a new era, and it was a Macedonian one.

According to our partisan sources the destruction was a result of Alexander’s Greek allies, including Athens, who voted for Thebes’ razing because of its medism in the previous century.³²² It was more likely the wish of returned exiles of poleis who had suffered at the hands of Theban oppression in the years prior, such as the Orchomenians, Thespians and Plataians. They participated in the sack of the city and were rewarded with parts of its territory.³²³ The Panhellenist discourse was perhaps a convenient cover for more ‘mundane’ motivations.

The destruction of Thebes sent shock waves throughout the Greek world, but perhaps none more so than in Athens. Despite their aversion to the Macedonians and their relationship with the Thebans, they remained aloof from the revolt. Even virulent war hawks like Demosthenes refrained from action after initially expressing their sympathy with the rebellion.³²⁴ Alexander rewarded their restraint by handing the Oropia to the Athenians (Chapter 4.1.2).³²⁵ In return, he demanded the extradition of several prominent anti-Macedonian politicians but rescinded after Athenian embassies persuaded him otherwise.³²⁶

Thebes’ destruction ushered in a new era for the Athenians. Their politicians, realising Alexander and Macedon were too great a force to handle, reverted to a period of political conservatism. The removal of their strongest ally and the creation of a pro-Macedonian Boiotia effectively ended the security of the Athenian borders and meant that Alexander could march into Attica at any given time. The disruptive effects of Macedonian intervention in Boiotia therefore had ramifications not only for the koinon but equally for Athens.

The end of Thebes did not mean the end of Atheno-Boiotian relations. A substantial Theban exile community remained in Athens and proxenia ties between the regions were upheld.³²⁷ Yet Macedonian rule, combined with Thebes’ destruction, had altered the political landscape of Greece forever. Neither Athens nor Thebes would reach similar heights in political and military power.

The Greek world had undergone a radical transformation with the ascension of Macedonian rule. Full independence no longer existed, as the overwhelming power of Macedon shattered previous mores of interstate relations. The death of Alexander in 323 inspired various Greek poleis to rise in revolt with hopes of regaining the reins, a revolt known as the Hellenic War.³²⁸ The lack of a clear successor to the Macedonian throne further fuelled the revolutionary fires. The Athenians joined the revolt as well. Their position initially put them at odds with the Boiotian poleis, who were fearful that an Athenian victory would lead to the restoration of Thebes. This proves the prudence of the Macedonian intervention in Boiotia, as the Athenian war effort was stymied by a hostile koinon.³²⁹ In the early phases the anti-Macedonian alliance achieved some successes, but these were ephemeral and the war ended in disappointment. Macedonian rule was reinstated, and in retaliation, the Athenians lost control over the Oropia and Samos and saw its democracy annulled.³³⁰

Less than a decade later, one of the successors vying for the Macedonian throne, Cassander, decided to restore Thebes.³³¹ The Athenians enthusiastically supported the project, as evidenced by the list detailing the contributions to its rebuild.³³² Undoubtedly, their enthusiasm was enhanced by the presence of a large refugee community, serving as a constant reminder to their plight. But part of it was the history Thebes carried.

This overview shows that war was not an inevitable prospect for the neighbours. A chart of their history does not follow a straight line that represents continuous hostility. Nothing suggests that the starting point of their shared journey determined the course, nor was any setback an insurmountable one. A litany of events characterises the Atheno-Boiotian relations, and it cannot conceivably be captured in one framework or another. In that sense, it reflects human nature and experience to its fullest.