Read Hiero the Tyrant and Other Treatises (Penguin Classics) Online
Authors: Xenophon
[1] Simonides’ response to this was to say, ‘What an important thing prestige seems to be, Hiero! People long for it so much that they’re prepared to do anything, no matter how exhausting and dangerous it [2] may be, to get it. Look at all the trials and tribulations tyranny apparently involves, according to you – but you tyrants still hurtle headlong towards it, drawn by the prestige it carries and by the desire to have everyone unswervingly and subserviently carry out all your commands. You want everyone around you, wherever you are, to look up to you in admiration, yield their seats to you and get out of the way in the streets for you, and make you the revered object of everything they say and do in your presence. After all, these are the typical behaviour patterns displayed by people towards a tyrant they are subject to and towards anyone else they respect.
[3] ‘In my opinion, you see, Hiero, our craving for prestige is a point of difference between us humans and the other animals. I mean, it looks as though the pleasures of eating, drinking, sleep and sex are available to all creatures equally, but love of honour isn’t a natural feature of the irrational animals, or even of all humans. People with this innate love of honour and praise are the ones who are furthest removed from the animal realm; they are regarded as men and not
[4] just as human beings.
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I don’t find it surprising, then, that you tyrants put up with all the hardship tyranny involves, given the extraordinary amount of honour you receive. For it seems to me that our delight in status and prestige is the closest we humans can get to the kind of pleasure the gods experience.’
[5] ‘No, Simonides,’ Hiero replied. ‘I think even a tyrant’s prestige has [6] much in common with his sex-life, as I described it to you. We agreed that favours granted by people who don’t reciprocate one’s affection
are not acts of kindness, and also that sex with an unwilling partner is not enjoyable. By the same token, services rendered by men out of fear are not acts of respect. I mean, surely we wouldn’t describe it as [7] a sign of respect for the offender in either case, when people yield their seats against their will or when they make way under duress for someone who is their social superior? And it’s very common for [8] people to give gifts to those they hate, especially when they are particularly afraid of something bad happening to them at their hands.
‘It would be reasonable, I think, to regard this behaviour as prompted by servility, but acts of respect seem to me to stem from the opposite condition. When people think that someone is in a position to do [9] them good and that it is thanks to him that their situation is improving, and so his name is always on their lips and they are constantly singing his praises; when each one of them looks on him as his own personal benefactor, and of their own free will they make way for him and yield their seats to him, out of affection, not fear; when they present him with garlands for his good services, from which they all benefit, and freely offer him gifts;
that
– the kind of service I’ve described – seems to me to be true respect, and when a man is taken to deserve this kind of treatment, I would say that he is the recipient of genuine honour. And I, for my part, would count someone who is honoured [10] like this a happy man, because as far as I can see he is not the target of conspiracies, but the object of concern for his well-being, and he lives a life untroubled by fear and the malice of others, free from danger and misery. A tyrant, however, I can assure you, Simonides, spends all his time, day and night, as if he had been condemned to death by the whole human race for his iniquity.’
After listening to this speech of Hiero’s, Simonides said, ‘If it’s so [11] awful to be a tyrant, Hiero, and you’ve come to this conclusion about it, why haven’t you shed this terrible burden? Why is it that no one – neither you nor anyone else – ever willingly gives up his position as a tyrant, once he has gained it?’
‘Yes, Simonides,’ he said, ‘this is exactly the most pitiful aspect of [12] tyranny. It is impossible to let go of it. How could a tyrant ever raise enough money to pay back in full the people he stole from, or serve all the prison sentences to compensate those he imprisoned? How
could he recompense all the people he put to death by coming up [13] with an adequate number of deaths to die? Do you want to know what I think, Simonides? I think that the only person who might profit by hanging himself is a tyrant; I have come to the conclusion that he is more likely than anyone to gain from this course of action, because he is the only person in the world whose interest is as little served by getting rid of his misfortunes as it is by keeping them.’
[1] ‘Well, Hiero,’ Simonides replied, ‘your current state of depression about tyranny doesn’t surprise me, since you think it stops you achieving your goal of being liked by people. I think I can teach you, however, that rulership does not prevent you being liked and that in fact you’re [2] better off than ordinary citizens in this respect. In considering whether or not I’m right, let’s ignore for the time being the issue of whether the greater power a ruler wields means that he can also confer a greater number of favours; what I want us to do instead is imagine an ordinary citizen and a tyrant performing the same service and then try to see which of them would win more gratitude from their identical acts.
‘I’ll start with the most trivial examples and go on from there. [3] Imagine, first, a ruler and an ordinary citizen catching sight of someone and greeting him in a friendly fashion. In this example, whose greeting, do you think, would be more welcome? Now let’s have both of them complimenting the man. Whose compliments would afford more pleasure, do you think? Suppose each of them honours the man with an invitation to a sacrificial feast. Whose invitation would be more [4] gratefully received, in your opinion? Imagine both of them looking after a sick man. Isn’t it obvious that the more powerful the person, the more his ministrations will delight the patient? Now let’s have them giving identical presents. Isn’t the answer obvious in this case too? The most powerful members of society could be half as generous as an ordinary person, and their gifts would still count for more.
[5] ‘In fact I’d go so far as to say that the gods cause a kind of aura of dignity and grace to surround a ruler. Not only does authority make
a man more prepossessing, but despite the fact that it’s still the same person, we also get more pleasure from seeing him when he is in a position of authority than we did when he was an ordinary citizen, and it’s more of a thrill to talk to eminent members of society than it is to talk to our social equals.
‘Now, you were particularly bitter about the tyrant’s situation with [6] regard to affairs with boys, but they’re not put off in the slightest by old age in a ruler, nor do they take any account of ugliness in the person they’ve taken up with, because by itself high standing in society vitally enhances a person’s appearance, so that blemishes disappear and attractive features shine out even more clearly.
‘So identical acts of kindness are appreciated more when performed [7] by tyrants than they are when performed by ordinary citizens. Under these circumstances, since you’re actually capable of doing far greater favours and of giving far more generous gifts than ordinary citizens can, doesn’t it follow that you’re bound to be liked much more than ordinary people as well?’
Hiero wasted no time in replying. ‘No, of course it doesn’t, [8] Simonides,’ he said, ‘because we’re also forced to put into effect, far more commonly than ordinary citizens are, the kinds of measures which make people unpopular. We have to exact money to cover [9] essential costs, compel people to protect all the things that need protection, punish criminals, curb potential violence; and when the time for rapid action comes and a land or naval expedition is called for, we have to see that the people in charge take their responsibilities seriously. Moreover, a tyrant needs mercenary troops, and this financial [10] burden is particularly resented by his subjects because they think that the point of keeping these troops is self-interest rather than the promotion of social equality.’
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‘Well, Hiero,’ Simonides replied, ‘I’m not going to deny that you [1] have to concern yourself with all these matters, but I do think that although some of your concerns certainly lead to unpopularity, others
are richly appreciated. For instance, instructing people in excellence – that is, showing how much you admire and value the best and most excellent achievements – is a concern which is appreciated. However, the task of censuring, disciplining and imposing penalties and punishments on underachievers is bound to incur unpopularity. In my opinion, then, a ruler should delegate to others the task of punishing anyone who needs disciplinary action, but should retain for himself the job of awarding prizes. The soundness of this idea is confirmed by experience. For instance, when we want to hold a choral competition, it is the ruler
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who puts up the prizes, while the job of assembling the choirs is given to impresarios, and it is left to others to train them and to discipline those who fail to come up to scratch in some way. The immediate result in this case is that the agreeable aspect of the competition is due to the ruler, while the disagreeable aspects are left to others.
‘Why shouldn’t all other public business be carried out on the same principle? Every state is divided into tribes or regiments or companies, with officers put in charge of each division.
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If one were to treat these divisions like choirs and offer them prizes for excellence of equipment, drill, horsemanship, courage in battle and honesty in negotiations, it seems reasonable to assume that enough rivalry would develop for all these qualities to be assiduously cultivated. There can be no doubt that, motivated by the passionate desire to win an award, troops would set out for their destination with greater alacrity, and that in a time of taxation people would pay up more promptly.
‘Another beneficiary would be agriculture, a pursuit of the greatest utility, but which, as things stand, is singularly lacking in the spirit of rivalry. But agriculture would improve immensely if one were to offer prizes for the estate or village which farmed the land most admirably, and there would also be a great many beneficial consequences for those of your subjects who channelled their energies into farming.
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For example, their incomes would go up, self-discipline and industry generally go together, and when people have work to do they rarely turn to crime.
‘Again, if trade is an activity which does a community some good, offering a reward for the person who brings in the most business would also serve to encourage more people to become traders. And
if it were known that anyone who discovers a way to make money which doesn’t involve any inconvenience will be honoured by his state, then this is another area where research would flourish. In short, [10] if it were clear that good innovations in
any
area of life will not go unrewarded, this too would encourage large numbers of people to make it their business to try to discover something useful. And when benefit is occupying the minds of large numbers of people, more ways will inevitably be found to promote it and bring it about.
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‘In case you’re anxiously thinking that offering prizes for such a lot [11] of occupations will be very expensive, Hiero, you should bear in mind that there are no more cost-effective commodities than those which are paid for with prizes. Just look at the vast amounts of money, effort and attention people are willing to spend preparing for horse-races, athletic contests and choral competitions.’
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‘I suppose you may well be right on this, Simonides,’ Hiero said, ‘but [1] can you tell me how I can employ my mercenaries without being hated for it? Or do you think that once a ruler has become popular he has no further need of bodyguards?’
‘No, of course he’ll continue to need them,’ Simonides answered. [2] ‘I am well aware that human beings are no different from horses in the sense that some of them become more ungovernable the more their needs are satisfied.
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Fear of bodyguards is quite an effective way [3] to control that kind of person. At the same time I don’t think you’d find anything that would be more helpful to the gentry than your guards. I’m sure you keep them as your own personal guards, but a [4] great many masters have in the past been murdered by their slaves, so the mercenaries should be instructed, right from the start, to act as the personal guards of every single citizen of the state and to go to their assistance if they find anything like that happening. I mean, we all know that states do have a criminal element, so if your guards had orders to protect the citizens too, their help would constitute another service your subjects would appreciate.
[5] ‘Moreover, your mercenaries could probably be more successful than anyone at calming the fears of country folk as they go about their business and at providing security for them and their flocks, not only on your own estates, but all over the countryside. By guarding the crucial positions they can give your subjects time to look after their own affairs.
[6] ‘Then again, who would be better placed to gain advance intelligence of secret and unexpected enemy incursions, and to forestall them, than a standing force of armed and organized troops? And in times of war, what could be more useful to your subjects than a mercenary force which will probably be perfectly ready to relieve them of most of the hard work, danger and need for vigilance? [7] And wouldn’t the presence of a standing force inevitably make any neighbouring states clearly see the desirability of peace, since nothing is better than an organized body of troops at keeping one’s own side safe and at upsetting the enemy’s plans?
[8] ‘Once your subjects realize that your mercenaries are no threat to anyone unless he is a criminal, that they deter potential criminals and help the victims of crime, watch out for the citizen body and face danger in its defence, surely they’re bound to be absolutely delighted to bear the costs of maintaining such a force, aren’t they? At any rate, the guards they keep on their own property are used for more trivial tasks than these.’
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