The Gods in the Athenian Assembly

Chapter 12 The Gods in the Athenian Assembly Gunther Martin There has been no dearth of recent scholarly debate about the relationship between polis and religion. The degree to which the state controlled the religious activity in its territory has been well explored and it is generally agreed that the legislative body of a polis was one of the most important regulators of religion. Sourvinou-Inwood 1990 is seminal. For reservations, or rather warnings of exaggerations see e.g. Kindt 2012: 16-35. The opposite direction of influence – the role of religion in the decision-making of the legislator, in this paper the Athenian assembly On the assembly and religion see now Parker 2011: 41-8. In this paper I treat the assembly of the fifth and fourth centuries without further distinction, although it was not the only legislative body throughout this period: in the fourth century, the assembly could only pass decrees (ψηφίσματα) but not laws (νόμοι). I shall use the term statute here to cover everything the assembly passed. The evidence for attitudes towards the gods and religion in the two centuries differs, so it is difficult to say whether much changed along with the legislative procedure: Thucydides and most of Aristophanes cover the time before the Athenian defeat in the Peloponnesian War, while the extant speeches from the assembly are younger than that. I am glad to note that Hannah Willey in the last section of her contribution this volume and I arrive at reconcilable or even similar views about the laws we find inscribed. In other instances, the common name nomothesia must not blur the different traditions on and practices of “lawgiving” that our papers deal with and the distinction between “the divine origins of law [singular]” (Willey p. 000) and the day-to-day business of passing laws and decrees [plural] in Classical Athens. – has received much less attention: how important is religion in the assembly meetings, and what kind of presence (if any) do the gods have there? The answers to these questions, however elusive they may be, are the pathway to the implied ‘theology’ underlying the assembly meetings. This paper will offer a brief survey of three parts of the assembly: the part framing the discussions, the debate on sacred matters (ἱερά), and the subsequent points of the agenda concerning non-sacred business (ὅσια). THE PRELIMINARIES Assembly meetings began with a series of religious acts, in some of which the gods were directly invoked. A sacrifice was performed and the herald made the official prayers: ἐπειδὰν τὸ καθάρσιον περιενεχθῇ καὶ ὁ κῆρυξ τὰς πατρίους εὐχὰς εὔξηται, προχειροτονεῖν κελεύει τοὺς προέδρους περὶ ἱερῶν τῶν πατρίων καὶ κήρυξι καὶ πρεσβείαις καὶ ὁσίων. When the purifying sacrifice has been carried round and the herald has spoken the traditional prayers, the prohedroi are commanded to take a vote on the traditional sacred matters, on heralds and ambassadors, and on the non-sacred matters. (Aeschin. 1.23) In Aeschines’ description the sacrifice formally demarcates the assembly, both spatially (περι-φέρειν) and in terms of its pure ritual status: the carrying round of a piglet reinstates the character of the assembly place as sacred space. The ‘prayers’ that Aeschines mentions are parodied by Aristophanes in the Thesmophoriazusae: εὔχεσθε τοῖς θεοῖσι τοῖς Ὀλυμπίοις καὶ ταῖς Ὀλυμπίαισι, καὶ τοῖς Πυθίοις καὶ ταῖσι Πυθίαισι, καὶ τοῖς Δηλίοις καὶ ταῖσι Δηλίαισι, τοῖς τ’ ἄλλοις θεοῖς, εἴ τις ἐπιβουλεύει τι τῷ δήμῳ κακὸν τῷ τῶν γυναικῶν, ἢ ’πικηρυκεύεται ... κακῶς ἀπολέσθαι τοῦτον αὐτὸν κᾠκίαν ἀρᾶσθε, ταῖς δ’ ἄλλαισιν ἡμῖν τοὺς θεοὺς εὔχεσθε πάσαις πολλὰ δοῦναι κἀγαθά. Pray to the Olympian gods and goddesses, to the Pythian gods and goddesses, to the Delian gods and goddesses and to the other gods. If one hatches plans against the dêmos of the women or sends ambassadors (sc. for peace) …, curse that person himself and his house so that they perish wretchedly, but to the rest of us women pray that the gods give many good things to all (Ar. Th. 331-6, 349-51). Aristophanes’ women hold an assembly that imitates the men’s proceedings. Cf. Austin/Olson 2004: 150. The term ἐκκλησία is used in l. 301; the formula that opened the discussion occurs in l. 379. Their prayer is probably close to its model; that makes it our best source of information about the real prayer, and other, less parodic, evidence does not alter the picture. Rhodes 1985: 36-7. There is no doubt that the prayer started with a clear and weighty invocation of the gods; we have to allow for exaggeration, but many elements are only slightly altered. The prayer has a remarkably negative character: it is almost exclusively a curse and is even called a curse in one source; Din. 2.16 ‘At first in each <assembly> they curse (ἀρὰς ποιούμενοι) the wicked.’ In §14 Dinarchus calls the same act a prayer (εὐξάμενον, sc. the herald), and it is likely that Aeschines’ εὐχαί does not refer to any other prayers: the start with εὔχεσθε in Aristophanes suggests that his women’s prayer was not preceded by another one. while the prayer for those well-disposed towards the city is merely an appendix (less than two of 21 lines), the request that the gods punish those who subvert the process of deliberation is much more prominent and extended. If the curse can have any effect on the present debate, it is to deter those who plan to pervert the deliberation and intend to speak against interest of the Athenian commonwealth. It does not describe any immediate interference of the gods. So the gods are not asked to prevent those who fall under the curse from speaking or to suppress their contributions, but to hit them afterwards. Nor are they called upon, for example, to inspire the politicians or generally lead the discussion in the direction that is most beneficial to the state (contrast the church services customary in many countries ahead of the opening of parliament). We have no record of any official religious act during the debate, but in the aftermath of a decision the gods could again be involved. They could be asked to sanction laws on religious matters. In the unusual case of the law about the Sacred Orgas the Delphic Apollo was even given the choice between two different decrees (IG II2 204 = RO 58). Any decree or law could also be put under divine protection by adding an invocation at the head of the text. It is again Aeschines who seems to imply that it was at the mover’s discretion to add gods to the text of the decree. γράψει δ’ ἐν τοῖς ψηφίσμασιν εὐχὰς ὑπὲρ τῆς πόλεως ταῖς σεμναῖς θεαῖς. In our decrees he will write prayers to the Solemn Goddesses on behalf of the city. (Aeschin. 1.188) So the gods are requested to watch both the debate and the statute resulting from it. Religious acts provide the frame within which the deliberative process takes place. The gods are invited, as it were, but they will become active only when the debate is over. They hand out rewards or punishment to the participants and guarantee that the decision found is implemented in a salutary way (cf. the more specific ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ on the inscriptions instead of θεοί etc.). In the debate itself, that means in the exchange of arguments, the gods are much less consistently brought to the fore, as the following brief survey of the most important phenomena will show. THE DEBATE ON τὰ ἱερά At half of the fourty regular assembly meetings per year the Athenians reserved the first three items on the agenda for ἱερά, that is ‘sacred matters’, Arist. Ath. 43.6. Aeschines’ περὶ ἱερῶν τῶν πατρίων in the first quote. His distinction between ἱερά and ὅσια leads us to the terminology of public funding, which provides an analogy, if it is not rather the same phenomenon on a more general level: public finances are divided broadly into two different categories, also called ἱερά and ὅσια. There has been controversy about the dichotomy, in particular about the second of these terms, but on finances the matter is relatively clear: τὰ ἱερά are funds that are owned by the god and must be restored if removed (i.e. ‘borrowed’ from the god). They can only be spent for sacred purposes, for otherwise it would be temple robbery. τὰ ὅσια are the funds at the disposal of the state and can be used for whatever the δῆμος wishes. Samons 2000: 327; Jay-Robert 2009: 123-25, although her definition of ὅσια as the realm of the law is irritating; Martin 2009: 6 with n.17. The term ὅσιον is a negative one: the money is not tainted, not ἀνόσιον. That means the gods have no reason to disapprove of its use, but it is not their concern – or if it is, then only because it is spent in a way that must cause direct offence to them (and becomes ἀνόσιον). If we transfer this distinction to politics, then most of the political debate is ὅσιον: as long as the gods’ property and entitlements are not infringed, the Athenians are free in their decision. The city organises herself and her dealings as she pleases, and every member of the assembly is entitled to speak and vote as it seems good to him. At times issues of ἱερά must have been controversial, and perhaps none more so than the establishment of new cults. Robert Garland believably supposes that much debate preceded the admission of the exotic Bendis into the Athenian pantheon. Both the Thracian origin of the goddess and the considerable expenditure in connection with her cult are likely to have provoked resistance. It would be interesting to know the arguments that have been put forward on either side: from the necessity to bind the Thracians closer to Athens and to strengthen divine support for the city at the eve of the Peloponnesian War to the fear that the traditional gods might be neglected there is plenty of room for disagreement. But Garland considers it ‘inconceivable that the sponsors of the new goddess […] argued their case along wholly secular lines.’ Garland 1992: 113. Our main problem is that we know only the result of the debate; about the way in which it was reached all we have are plausible assumptions. The richest body of evidence for the bulk of ‘sacred matters’ is the inscribed statutes that were passed in the assembly. As far as we can judge, they are mostly quite technical: it is the cult practice – not the gods – that is at the centre of the decree. The key questions in the debate seem to concern the regulations of worship and the operation of sanctuaries: how much is to be sacrificed and when, who is to perform which function, and which requirements need to be fulfilled, for example, for entry into the sanctuary. See for example IG II2 47.23-36: Ἀθηνόδω[ρος] εἶπεν· περὶ ὧν ὁ ἱε-/ρεὺς λέγει ὁ τοῦ Ἀσκληπιο̑ Εὐθύδημος, ἐψηφίσθ-/αι τῶι δήμωι· ὅπως ἂν τά τε προθύματα θύηται // ἃ ἐξηγε̑ται Εὐθύ[δ]η[μ]ος ἱερεὺς το̑ Ἀσκληπιο̑ κα-/ὶ ἡ ἄλλη θυσία γίγνηται ὑπὲρ το̑ δήμο το̑ Ἀθηναίω-/ν, ἐψηφίσθαι τῶι δήμωι τοὺς ἐπιστάτας τοῦ Ἀσκ-/ληπιείο θύεν τὰ προθύματα ἃ ἐξηγε̑ται [Εὐ]θύδη-/μος ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀργυρίο το̑ ἐκ το̑ λιθοτομε̣[ί]ο̣ [․․․]ο․-//[․]ο ἐξαιρομένο, τὸ δὲ ἄλλο ἀργύριον [κα]τα[βά]λλ-/[ε]ν ἐς τὴν οἰκοδομίαν τοῦ ἱερο̑· ὅπως δ ἂν καὶ Ἀθ-/ηναῖοι κρέα νέμωνται ὡσς πλεῖστα τοὺς ἱεροπ-/[οι]ὸς τὸς ἱεροποιο̑ντας ἐπιμε{με}λε̑σθαι {ἐπιμελε̑σθαι} τῆς ἑ-/[ο]ρτῆς τὸ ἐκ τοῦ δήμο γιγνόμενον· νέμεν δὲ τὰ // [κρέ]α το̑ μὲν ἡγεμόνος βοὸς τοῖς πρυτάνεσιν … Athenodorus made the motion. On the matters the priest of Asclepius, Euthydemus, speaks about, let the People vote: in order that the preparatory sacrifices which Euthydemus, the priest of Asclepius, advises and the other sacrifice be made on behalf of the Athenian People, let the People vote that the Epistatai of Asclepius are to perform the preparatory sacrifices from the silver generated from the quarry …; and that the other silver is to be spent on building in the precinct. In order to ensure that the Athenians are distributed as much meat as possible, the Hieropoioi in charge are to take care of the part of the celebration that is held by commission of (?) the δῆμος. The meat of the leading bull is to be given to the Prytaneis … We have very little evidence for the course of the debates that resulted in this and similar decisions, but the contribution of an ‘expert’ is worth noting. A ‘theological’ debate about the gods seems unlikely. Euthydemus, the priest of Asclepius, apparently spoke (l. 24 λέγει) and expounded (l. 26 ἐξηγε̑ται) The verb underlines that he was not just one of those priests that came to their temporary job by accident but that he possessed expertise comparable to that of an exegete (on the two different types of sacred officials cf. Garland 1990: 77-82). concerning sacrifices; either he or another person (such as Athenodorus, the mover of the decree) made suggestions for the funding of the sacrifices, about what is to happen with the rest of the means, and about the distribution of meat. Euthydemus’ priestly authority of may have warranted that the motion was passed without much controversy. Even if it met with resistance in the assembly, disagreement would probably concern the financial arrangements or the emphasis on feeding the Athenians. Riders, which might give an indication of resistance or disagreement with successful proposals, do not alter the picture but deal with the same level of technicality or the publication of the statutes: cf. e.g. IG I3 78.47-59. They do, as far as I see, not offer an alternative view on the divine. As Robin Osborne shows in his contribution to this volume, statutes such as this enable us to draw conclusions about the Greeks’ conceptions of the gods. Looking at it from the other end, we may surmise that the assembly did not discuss which animals were appropriate to be sacrificed to a particular deity, let alone what were the nature and needs of the gods – the consistency concerning the principles makes it clear that these matters were probably as little contentious as the general idea that the gods do demand a certain amount of respect. The question may rather have been how best to put that respect and the reverence of the δῆμος into practice – and perhaps financially how costly an expression of respect was necessary and appropriate. So in these debates the assembly saw to it that the gods received the worship that they were entitled to and that was necessary to satisfy them. The rationale behind this procedure could be left unspoken (at least in the statutes): if the gods are not satisfied, they withdraw their protection or even turn against the Athenians. Evidence from the assembly for an eplicit statement of this rationale is missing. The prosecutor of Nicomachus, however, discusses legislation passed by the assembly to revise the old laws. He insinuates a link between the sacrifices ordered by Solon’s kyrbeis and Athens’ success, and a change of her luck that will follow the redrafting of the laws by the defendant (Lys. 30.18-19). τὰ ὅσια (AND UNCLEAR INSTANCES) The idea that the gods must be paid respect and not be offended is not restricted to sacred business but could also encroach on the section on ὅσια. This originates from the character of the ‘non-sacred’ business outlined above, which is far from being strictly ‘secular’. If it can be argued that a proposal possibly violates the gods’ rights or ignores their demands, i.e. if it can be conceived that the city’s good relationship with them may be at risk, there is a potential opportunity for speakers to bring up divine matters and raise objections against proposals. To do so, however, they must suggest that the matter has enough weight to touch the gods. In the debate about the recall of Alcibiades in 411 the Eleusinian priestly families of Eumolpidae and Kerykes protested by invoking (Th. 8.53.2 ἐπιθειαζόντων) the gods. The reason was that Alcibiades was under a curse for the profanation of the mysteries. It has been suspected that they were called upon by the state officials to comment in their capacity as guardians of the mysteries. Hornblower 2008: ad loc. Even if they raised their objections on their own accord, the way Thucydides identifies them shows that they were certainly not perceived as private individuals. Alcibiades’ (alleged) offences against the mysteries warrant the intervention of the men associated with the cult in the political debate: recalling someone the city itself had ordered to curse conjures up the threat that the gods punish the city that consciously harbours a delinquent. The stakes were high, and the Athenians were aware that their decision could determine the fate of their city: Peisander, who had negotiated with Alcibiades and proposed his recall, ‘coming forward in the face of much protest and outrage, called forth each one of the protesters and asked him what hope he had for the salvation of the city.’ Th. 8.53.2 (transl. Lattimore 1998) In the end the religious argument was not impervious: for when Alcibiades was eventually recalled, the δῆμος instructed the Eleusinian priests to revoke the curse – so the Eumolpidae’s and Kerykes’ objection was accepted, but the Athenians found a way to eliminate the danger of cursing themselves. Plu. Alc. 33.3. The seriousness of the situation in 411 BCE, which Peisander emphasises, facilitates the employment of religious arguments. It is, above all, at turning points – or events that a speaker wishes to be perceived in that way – that religion could be dragged into the public debate. When Aristophanes attributes to the Athenians a general susceptibility for omens and oracles (the personified Demos in Knights is said to σιβυλλιᾶν, l.61), he may be describing a disposition for which the war served as a catalyst. The Athenians’ propensity to predictions may even have increased in acute crises: Thucydides reports an upsurge in oracles before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War Th. 2.8.2 ‘Many prophecies were declared and interpreters of oracles made many recitations both among those making ready for war and in other cities (transl. Lattimore 1998). and mentions that diviners had promised that the Sicilian campaign would be a success. He also mentions disputes about the wording of an old oracle at the height of the plague (Th. 2.54.2-3). However, he does not specify whether people discussed it in the assembly or just on the streets and on the agora (ἐγένετο μὲν οὖν ἔρις τοῖς ἀνθρώποις). Cf. also Th. 2.21.3 ‘They formed groups in violent disagreement, some demanding that they go out, others opposing this, and prophets recited prophecies of every sort, which they were eager to hear according to individual inclination’ (transl. Lattimore 1998). Even if only with hindsight after the failure of the expedition, the Athenians interpreted their decision in 415 as influenced by the oracles: Thucydides does not state whether the diviners read out the prophecies on the Pnyx. The assembly, however, appears more suitable for a pronouncement on matters of the state than a private consultation, and we know of other cases where oracle-collectors were even called upon by the δῆμος. Plutarch’s account of these events also gives the impression of discussions of experts in the assembly (Plu. Nic. 13.1-2 ‘It is said that the priesthood also strongly opposed the expedition. But Alcibiades, who used other diviners, promised on the basis of some ancient oracles that the Athenians would gain great glory from Sicily. To his advantage some public messengers came from Ammon with an oracle that predicted that the Athenians would capture all the Syracusans; the oracles that indicated the opposite they did not report, fear to say something of ill omen.’ Cf. Paus. 8.11.12). ὠργίζοντο δὲ καὶ τοῖς χρησμολόγοις τε καὶ μάντεσι καὶ ὁπόσοι τι τότε αὐτοὺς θειάσαντες ἐπήλπισαν ὡς λήψονται Σικελίαν They were furious at the oracle-collectors, seers, and anyone whose divinations had made them hope that they would capture Sicily. (Th. 8.1.1, transl. Lattimore, adapted) Much more important and serious were oracles that instead of coming from dubious sources such as Bacis and being sold on the streets were issued by the Delphic Apollo and other established oracles. The Athenian state (just as the other Greek poleis) made inquiries about particular issues, such as the dispatch of a colony and military and diplomatic matters that concerned Athens’ relations to the external world. Parker 1985: 306-10. For oracles other than Delphi cf. e.g. n. 827. Domestic matters were not object of consultations. This and the fact that the oracle seems never to reject a specific proposal (Parker p. 316) may suggest that the oracle had the particular function of legitimation. So important matters of state could prompt a consultation of an oracle. The Athenians had sent to Delphi when Xerxes invaded Greece and had received the famous oracle about the wooden walls, which the assembly had to decode. Hdt. 7.142-3. A similar consultation was apparently proposed by one Ameiniades, just before Philip of Macedon entered central Greece and threatened to invade Thebes and Athens, a turning point that led to the battle of Chaeroneia: ἀλλ’ οὐ προύλεγον, οὐ προεσήμαινον οἱ θεοὶ φυλάξασθαι, μόνον γε οὐκ ἀνθρώπων φωνὰς προσκτησάμενοι; οὐδεμίαν τοι πώποτε ἔγωγε μᾶλλον πόλιν ἑώρακα ὑπὸ μὲν τῶν θεῶν σῳζομένην, ὑπὸ δὲ τῶν ῥητόρων ἐνίων ἀπολλυμένην. οὐχ ἱκανὸν ἦν τὸ τοῖς μυστηρίοις φανὲν σημεῖον, ἡ τῶν μυστῶν τελευτή; οὐ περὶ τούτων Ἀμεινιάδης μὲν προύλεγεν εὐλαβεῖσθαι καὶ πέμπειν εἰς Δελφοὺς ἐπερησομένους τὸν θεὸν ὅ τι χρὴ πράττειν, Δημοσθένης δὲ ἀντέλεγε φιλιππίζειν τὴν Πυθίαν φάσκων. But did not the gods forewarn us, not admonish us to be on our guard, all but adopting a human voice? As far as I am concerned, I have never seen a city more under the protection of the gods but ruined by a few orators. Was the portent at the mysteries, the death of the initiates, not clear enough? Did not Ameiniades warn us to take precautions and send to Delphi to ask the god what we should do? And did Demosthenes not speak against him and claimed the Pythia acted in the interest of Philip? (Aeschin. 3.130) Aeschines is likely to misrepresent events, but if what he says is at least plausible to his audience, the incident at the mysteries was brought up as a matter that combined religious urgency with a political twist: The most appropriate setting for this episode would be the meeting of the council immediately after the mysteries, which discussed the conduct of the mysteries (cf. Andoc. 1.111, Mikalson 1975: 60-61) on Boedromion 24). But Demosthenes was not a member of the council in that year, and there is no good reason why he should have been invited to speak to that point. We do not know at which part of the meeting Ameiniades made his proposal. It deals with religious matters, but not with τὰ πάτρια ἱερά in the sense that the laws and decrees suggest. In any case, it illustrates how politics and religion could intertwine. Ameiniades’ proposal leaves no doubt that he saw it as a portent from the start and intended to have the oracle give an interpretation. But the religious component is not isolated: the political situation is also delicate, and Ameiniades’ suggestion must have carried the notion that the portent had political significance and was related to the conflict between Athens and Macedon. If such an interpretation had not been obvious (as a consequence of the dramatic political situation), Demosthenes could not have so easily rejected the consultation of Delphi on the grounds of the oracle’s alleged political bias. Again the seriousness of events in both the religious and the political sphere prompts the blurring of the two aspects in the assembly: the situation is such that an incident at one of the most important festivals is interpreted as a political intervention of the gods, and the resulting consultation of the oracle would again likely have had an impact on the political plane: Demosthenes’ intervention suggests that he expected Apollo’s response to consist in a political demand to the detriment of Athens – one which the city would have been virtually obliged to follow on account of Delphi’s religious authority. His answer is to diminish the religious significance of the oracle and pronounce that the institution is politically biassed: the Pythia, that means the human personnel of the oracle, is disassociated from Apollo; Demosthenes questions that she speaks with oracular authority rather than with a political agenda. That tactic is not approved by Aeschines, and we must not assume that the Athenians, even if they followed Demosthenes in this case, were prepared generally to accept such discrediting of the oracle. Despite the political potential that is here ascribed to Delphi, it is worth noting the limitations that are set to the gods’ influence on Athenian politics through their oracles. First, oracular pronouncements need to be solicited – they do not pre-exist, waiting to be presented to the assembly. That means the city has to become active; Apollo does not influence the city’s business unless he is asked and the city thereby subjects herself to his advice (i.e. decides to forfeit her sovereignty to make her own decision). Second, the oracles on non-sacred matters only help in affairs that affect the city’s relation to the outside world: oracles concerning strictly domestic ὅσιον legislation or jurisdiction are not attested. Cf. Parker 1985: 310. So far the instances of religion being used in the debate of ὅσια political issues had been related in texts that did not emanate directly from assemblies. This may give the wrong impression that such references are frequent. In addition, the religious element in the debate is often used by authors to mark the debate or the contribution as of extraordinary weight. The direct evidence from the assembly, i.e. the extant 15 assembly speeches in the Corpus Demosthenicum can serve as corrective. D. 1-10, 13-17, not all by Demosthenes. Other speeches that seem to address the assembly are later fabrications (D. 11, Andoc. 3, Lys. 34), but they conform to the principles stated here. From these speeches emerges a picture that differs remarkably from the passages that have been presented up to now. They suggest that religion was largely kept out of the discussion: most speeches contain only isolated and insignificant references to gods or religion, insofar as they do not carry emphasis on the religious element: the gods are mentioned mostly in the form of invocations and in incidental references (e.g. to their sanctuaries or festivals). The latter reflect the fact that sanctuaries were important landmarks or that the social community was in many respects identical with the religious community. Thus when, for example, the Propylaea occur in a list together with shipsheds (D. 13.28), we may not wish to assign to the mention a particular religious significance – just as a community called ‘Corpus Christi’, be it in Cambridge, Oxford or in Texas, can be mentioned without any religious connotations being intended. The gods need not therefore be presumed absent (i.e. the matter is not ‘secular’), but in most cases they seem to have no relevance for the matter at issue. Formulaic invocations are, for the most part, void of any particular religious significance, as they have assumed a different value of expression: νὴ Δία is primarily an exclamation, a marker of emphasis, and does certainly not suggest any involvement of the father of the gods. E.g. when Demosthenes imitates a dialogue (4.10): ‘Is Philip dead?’ – ‘No, by Zeus (μὰ Δί’), but injured.’ The matter is different if the formulation deviates from the standard: one of the strongest instances comes at the end of the Third Philippic. In the closing words the speaker expresses, in general terms, his hope for the blessing of the city: that the decisions of the people turn out well (9.76). He adds the rare invocation ὦ πάντες θεοί. Only Dem. 6.37 (in very similar use) and Dem. 18.324. All three instances occur at the very end of the speech. Τhe passage demonstrates the relationship between the deliberation and the gods: ἐγὼ μὲν δὴ ταῦτα λέγω, ταῦτα γράφω. ... εἰ δέ τις ἔχει τούτων τι βέλτιον, λεγέτω καὶ συμβουλευέτω. ὅτι δ’ ὑμῖν δόξει, τοῦτ’, ὦ πάντες θεοί, συνενέγκοι. This is all I am going to say and propose. … If someone has something better than this, he shall speak and add his advice. Whatever you decide, by all gods, may it be beneficial. The gods are invoked, without, however, being credited with a clear role. They are neither meant to influence the assembly so as to decide on a certain course of action nor are they expected afterwards to steer events in a direction so that with hindsight the decision will seem to have been the right one. Ar. Nu. 587-9 expresses hope of just that: ‘They say that the city is badly counselled, but that the gods will put right whatever you bungle.’ Rather, events will run their course without any external intervention. The vote is open, as the indefinite relative ὅτι signals. At the same time Demosthenes wishes that the decision itself be expedient and have a positive effect. The sentence, therefore, is not so much a prayer, i.e. a request to the gods, as a pious wish, i.e. the expression of a hope: Demosthenes cannot determine the outcome of the debate, but as a good Athenian he hopes that it will prove beneficial. The invocation of the gods is therefore best interpreted as Demosthenes calling the gods to witness his sincerity and the intensity of his wish: at a highly emotional point at the end of the speech, after all the arguments have been put forward, Demosthenes turns his eyes away from the political bickering to the greater good of his polis. He moves away from the particular arguments for one side and concentrates on the spirit of the assembly: the attempt to find the best course of action to the benefit of Athens, and by invoking the gods he also emphasises that this spirit is in harmony with them. Demosthenes conveys that he does not accuse his opponents of consciously making proposals that are against divine will or detrimental to the city. Instead, the interest of Athens comes first, no matter whose motion wins the day. The gods are envisaged at their most active in a trope that is taken from the stock of Athenian public ideology (and potentially that of many other poleis) and underlies the political discourse: the idea that the gods are on the city’s side and care for her strength and preservation. Aristophanes’ Knights has Paphlagon and Agoracritus tell of dreams in which the city’s patron goddess Athena showers blessings onto Athens (1168-87). In the extant speeches the favours are not attributed to a specific god. Aeschines (3.130 above: ‘I have never seen a city more under the protection of the gods but ruined by a few orators.’) even suggests that the gods are united in protecting the city – an idea not contradicted in other texts. Qua trope the idea is undisputed in public discourse, even when the actual course of history seems to speak against it. Cf. Aeschin. 3.130 above, Dem. 18.253: so even after the battle of Chaeroneia and Athens’ loss of influence or even independence, Demosthenes tries to reconcile the defeat with the idea of divine favour. The dogma-like character of the idea is explored in Parker 1997. It makes sense that it be so: from a rhetorical angle it is easier to win the ears of one’s audience and motivate them with the positive message that their city is beloved by the gods. But the frequency and the commonplace nature of the idea of the gods’ support can also be explained quite pragmatically: there is no point in an orator standing up and advising the people to embark on a certain policy if he is convinced that the gods hate the place. Hence the trope virtually formulates a precondition of public debate – it is not itself debated in the assembly. Rather, the assembly starts on the assumption that the gods at least are not biased against the city. Calling the gods friends of the city is a patriotic eulogy; the regular use is reassuring or encouraging, not argumentative. Demosthenes, by contrast, gives the trope a twist and uses it in an inverted form to propose a particular course of action. He suggests that the gods in their benevolence have created the present situation and that the city owes it to them to act accordingly (D. 1.10, 15.2). He thereby insinuates the existence of an obligation, but stops short of saying that the gods themselves intend that reaction. Once, however, in an exceptional gambit, he goes further, stating explicitly that a god wanted to provoke a certain reaction, in other words that the god intended to influence the assembly. But his argument is a paradox, and Philip of Macedon has conquered several important cities that either belonged to the Athenians or were in their sphere of influence. This would have been cause to doubt that divine favour has been bestowed on Athens, but Demosthenes’ interpretation of events turns the situation on its head: δοκεῖ δέ μοι θεῶν τις, ὦ ἄνδρες Ἀθηναῖοι, τοῖς γιγνομένοις ὑπὲρ τῆς πόλεως αἰσχυνόμενος τὴν φιλοπραγμοσύνην ταύτην ἐμβαλεῖν Φιλίππῳ. εἰ γὰρ ἔχων ἃ κατέστραπται καὶ προείληφεν ἡσυχίαν ἔχειν ἤθελε καὶ μηδὲν ἔπραττεν ἔτι, ἀποχρῆν ἐνίοις ὑμῶν ἄν μοι δοκεῖ, ἐξ ὧν αἰσχύνην καὶ ἀνανδρίαν καὶ πάντα τὰ αἴσχιστα ὠφληκότες ἂν ἦμεν δημοσίᾳ· νῦν δ’ ἐπιχειρῶν ἀεί τινι καὶ τοῦ πλείονος ὀρεγόμενος ἴσως ἂν ἐκκαλέσαιθ’ ὑμᾶς, εἴπερ μὴ παντάπασιν ἀπεγνώκατε. It seems to me, men of Athens, that some god, out of shame for the things that are done in the name of the city, has instilled this restlessness into Philip. For if he wanted to stay content with what he has conquered and occupied and did not keep going, I believe it might be tolerable for some of you – and we would bring us as a state shame and a cowardly reputation and the deepest disgrace. But being as he is, he might, by always trying something and being out for more, he may stir you into action, if you have not given up all hope. (D. 4.12) The gods’ benevolence here manifests itself in their driving Athens into despair. This is their way of saving her and making her great. The situation is good because it is so bad that the Athenians cannot tolerate it any longer and will stand up against Philip. The argument implies that it is necessary for the Athenians to rise: the unidentified god has created a situation in which the Athenians need to react – apparently with full intention (αἰσχυνόμενος) in order to provoke a reaction. The idea expressed in this paragraph is so much against the common-sense view of divine favours that one is inclined to regard the paradox, the shock- and wake-up effect, as the ultimate aim of this passage. By the use of the trope, and in particular by the idiosyncratic fashion in which he uses it here, Demosthenes alerts his audience to their sluggish effort in a war. The pronounced form of drawing in the gods (if compared with the usual reluctance to do so) in combination with the counter-intuitive construction of the argument is suitable to show the faultlines of the trope, the belief – or the dogma – that everything is alright even where it is not. It may border on irony, rendering void the significance of divine protection, if it comprises the enemy’s successes. Nevertheless, it is enlightening to look at the idea of the divine that is presupposed in Demosthenes’ line of thought: the deity – unidentified and possibly unidentifiable for both the speaker and us – takes an interest in human affairs and even has predilections. The feeling he (the masculine αἰσχυνόμενος may just be generic) nurtures is human, and the way he works is by instilling a state of mind (i.e. φιλοπραγμοσύνη) in a mortal. The situation that is thereby created is meant to compel the Athenians to react; the motive that drives them, however, is not the obligation towards the god but self-serving. That is not to exclude that some people in the audience would perceive such an obligation and be wary of an offence against the deity. The wish to satisfy and atone the god has been seen earlier in this paper and may be transferred to this passage. It is, however, necessary to note that Demosthenes does not enter this line of thought. A second limitation apparent even in this most explicit passage in the extant speeches is that, again, the god is not conceived as interfering in the political process directly. The way he makes the Athenians reach a decision is by setting up a situation to which they must react at their own initiative, thus playing on their psychology. All his ‘actions’ take place before the Athenians debate about the matter and in a distant place (the whereabouts of Philip). Instead of changing the psychological state of the Athenians he chooses an oblique approach and changes Philip’s. I have argued elsewhere (2009: 234-5) that Demosthenes’ used the trope repeatedly to suggest particular significance and raise his own profile in an early period of his career, when he was a young and upcoming orator trying to make a name for himself in Athenian politics. CONCLUSION Before I try to outline some of the ideas of the gods that were conveyed in the assembly, it is worth stating how they are talked about, or rather how not: there is no indication whatsoever of any controversy about the gods themselves. Their existence is taken for granted; who they are and how they live seems either irrelevant or uncontroversial to such a degree that no mention is required. Moreover, in public debate presumably nobody of sound mind would introduce into the discourse the idea that Athena or one of the other gods is not powerful enough to deserve quite so many sacrifices on the state’s expense. Even in the case of new gods it may be doubted that the characteristics of the deities – rather than their cults, the relevant practices and their appropriateness for Athens – were a matter of contention. Concerning the gods’ importance for the debate it turns out that the label of ‘polis religion’ ascribes to the state – and thus the assembly – a dominant role, which forgets the important part the gods themselves play (at least nominally): the city channelled religious practice in ways expedient to herself, but the purpose is to please or at least satisfy the gods in order to retain their protection and not to make them her enemies. So the gods are in theory the normative authority. In the end it is they who determine what is required: they can express their will concerning religious practice via oracular responses to the city or their sacred officials and other ‘experts’ can expound how their sympathy can be won. Where new cults were admitted to attract, retain or integrate groups of inhabitants, it is possible to assume some degree of instrumentalisation of gods (in the form of their cults) for political and economic ends, but this is probably an exception. So the gods appear as a power that must not be alienated and with which the Athenians do not deal on equal footing. The organisation and regulation of worship through the assembly has the aim of ensuring their continued support for Athens: any change could be seen as straying from the proven tradition of τὰ πάτρια. Cf. n. 821. The continuation of inherited practice, on the other hand, avoids the danger of any involuntary offence and a change in the relationship. In matters that are not (directly) cult-related the warnings that the gods might be offended or their rights violated follow the same idea, admonishing to prevent divine retribution. They show that the gods must be considered even in matters of politics in which the state seems to be autonomous. In all this it is not stated explicitly that the gods are going to haunt the city if they are slighted, but that can be easily inferred and the omission is likely to be euphemistic in purpose. The impression that may be left by the Athenians’ wish to please and the fear of angering the gods – in the absence of talk about the gods as anthropomorphic beings – is that the objects of their veneration are rather capricious and easily displeased. Otherwise the gods remain abstract entities. This lack of any clear indication about the gods as individuals contrasts conspicuously with the depictions on some inscribed statutes. E.g. Athens EM 6598 (IG I3 101) and AM inv. 1333 (IG I3 127). The iconography of the gods there is close to that of their cult statues. So if we assume that the same ideas of the gods underly the image and the text, the conception of the gods in the debate does not seem to differ in any obvious way from that we are familiar with from cult. In the debate, and that means in a genre where it is key to alienate as few people as possible, deviance from the mainstream of public discourse might have been counterproductive. But our sources (speeches, other literary texts, inscriptions) suggest the formal debate dispensed with concretely envisaging the gods altogether. More generally, references to religion (beyond the incidental level) and even more to the gods are rare in the direct evidence from the debate (i.e. the speeches); and in other evidence religion often has a special status and is used as an indicator of the seriousness of a matter. So despite the possibility to draw in the gods in things without a clear religious element, there does not seem to be a propensity regularly to construct arguments that describe the gods as concerned (which has a strong normative appeal, where it is used). In the contrary, claiming a potential interest of the gods in a matter needs to be reasonable: speakers are free to link political measures to the danger of provoking the gods, but the connection has to be plausible to the audience. The evidence suggests that the bar was high: Demosthenes is quite cautious in crediting events to the actions of a god (δοκεῖ δέ μοι), The same formulation in 1.10; in 15.2 the causation by the gods is not made explicit at all. and Cleon is ridiculed by Aristophanes for excessively citing oracles. The gods, it appears, do not care too much about the organisation of the fleet or similar matters. And while some turns in the course of a war may be ascribed to them with hindsight – albeit with great reluctance to name a specific originator –, Demosthenes never undertakes to predict that a god will be on the side of the Athenians. Contrast Apollo’s promise before the start of the Peloponnesian War to help the members of the Peloponnesian League (Th. 1.123.1). References to gods are reserved to serious matters – as they have great potential force, given what is at stake if the gods are provoked. In this way the gods mostly remain at the periphery of the assembly. They do not directly interfere in the preliminary sacrifice and prayer or in the protection of the laws or in the debate proper. Only if the assembly has chosen to request a god’s advice through an oracle does he determine the decision. Demosthenes is the one who comes closest to ascribing to a god the intention of actively influencing the assembly. But in the way he does it, the paradoxicality undermines the credibility. He presents motives on the parts of both god and mortals that are very different from the pattern of offence and wrath that is implied elsewhere; he also avoids any direct connection between the god and the Athenians’ choice. We end up with a theology that restricts itself and prefers avoiding definite statements to making claims that are wrong or incredible and in this way potentially unpropitious and rhetorically counterproductive. On matters of limited significance and those concerning only the internal organisation of the polis, cautiousness seems to have been greater still, and even oracles as an instrument of granting the god an influence on the decision were foregone. So while the gods were integrated in the political process through the initial sacrifice and prayer and through their protective role afterwards, the debate does not give them too much space. The relatively low presence of the gods does, however, have an important effect on the status of the assembly: for the δῆμος remains autonomous in its discussions. The assembly meeting is a platform on which only the mortals discuss and come to decisions. The non-interference of the gods leaves the responsibility for decisions firmly with the human decision makers: neither the orators nor the attendant citizens have a chance of shifting the blame onto the gods. Both remain accountable for what they have said and voted for in the assembly. It is up to the assembly to weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of the relevant move and, if necessary, bear the consequences of its bad judgment. I am grateful to the editors for the invitation to the original conference and to the participants for the discussion. This paper was written during a fellowship by the Swiss National Science Foundation, which I would also like to thank for its support.