Abstract This essay is a discussion of one of the great lessons of history that is given to us from the Father of History

Herodotus. This original title of this essay was: One of Herodotus great leitmotifs is the mutability of human fortune and the fragility of human life. J. Griffin. Discuss. Griffins statement is concerned with the great sense of tragedy and with the elements of the tragic genre that are interwoven into Herodotus Histories. This is not an accidental outcome on Herodotus part. It is known that he spent time in Athens and was a friend of the great tragedian Sophocles. But Herodotus starts a tradition that is continued throughout the tradition of the historian; he sees the tragic patterns that repeat themselves, and using hindsight and inquiry he forces his readers to reconsider their current situation. In this essay I focus on his original paradigms for the changing nature of human fortunes the story of Candaules and Croesus of Lydia. The elements of these stories; human pride, hubris and ambition, the jealousy of the gods, love of power over people, and deviation from custom recur again and again throughout the Histories, as I will show. I discuss the issue of fatalism and how much control mortals really have over their own fortunes, arguing that although oracles and ancestral curses are often referred to, unlike in tragedy, Herodotus does not present the situation of the double-bind in quite the inescapable situation it is in tragedy. The story of the dream of Xerxes, in particular will serve as my example for this point. I discuss the motif of the tragic warner, a popular figure in tragedy, and one much discussed in relation to the Histories. However my discussion of this motif is centred about the wisdom that is either gained or not gained from a reversal of fortunes. The story of Croesus will be my main focus for this point, although I will also look at the case of Cambyses and his reversal, as well as Xerxes refusal to heed the advice of his advisor Artabanus

I will discuss the issue of human weakness and fragility, connecting them with the relationships people have, particularly with family members. The association of weakness with dependence or need for others is highlighted by the way that Herodotus tyrants, such as Cambyses and Periander, frequently suppress or banish natural filial affections or isolate themselves from their friends and advisors.

The Certainty of Change: The moral lesson of The Histories

It is, I think, impossible to doubt that Herodotus is attempting to impart to his readership the unpredictability of human fortunes. If we consider the very first story, the story of Gyges, we see the reversal of fortunes. Gyges emerges as king, legitimised by the Delphic Oracle, while Candaules is killed, because he was so boastful of his beautiful wife that he defied the nomos of the Lydians, For with the Lydians, as with most barbarian races, it is thought highly indecent even for a man to be seen naked1 and allowed her to be viewed naked by Gyges. In this short episode we see the elements that feature so strongly in Herodotus other moralistic logoi. Candaules flouts tradition, just as Cambyses does in Book 3 and the Scythian king, Scyles does in Book 4. Candaules also displays hubris, in this case excessive pride in his wife and a determination to have his good fortune in having such a beautiful wife acknowledged by Gyges. This is remarkably similar to Croesus determination to have Solon announce him as the happiest of men, and Herodotus himself makes the connection between his presumption and his fate explicit:
After Solons departure nemesis fell upon Croesus, presumably because God was angry with him for supposing himself the happiest of men. It began with a dream he had about a disaster to one of his sons: a dream which came true.2

We are clearly presented with a moralistic causal chain for the fall of Croesus fortunes. But, to use Griffins word, fortune is mutable and in the case of Gyges his fortune changes for the better. Despite his having the dreadful choice between killing or being killed, his life, as far as we know, ends well. It is his descendent Croesus who must pay the price for his sin, he had expiated in the fifth generation the crime of his ancestor3. Yet even in saying this, it is impossible not to be aware of an odd tension. Was Croesus always doomed because of a family curse or was it because of his own hubris and presumption? Herodotus seems to be suggesting both possibilities, even though they seem incompatible. But if we look again at the passage at 1.34,
1 2

Herodotus, 1.10 Ibid, 1.34 3 Ibid, 1..91

God was angry with him, so we may possibly have a situation where God withheld his justice upon Gyges until he found the recipient who he felt was most suited to divine retribution because of that persons hubris; and that Croesus could have saved himself earlier if he had realised his danger and brought about the character change necessary to avoid his fate. Nevertheless our acceptance of human fortune as unpredictable, and particularly if we follow the paradigm of Croesus story, that it is due to human mental weakness in imagining ourselves greater than we are, receives a check when we consider the divine intervention in Book 7. Artabanus sage advice to Xerxes about the danger of overreaching himself, is overruled by the god:
if you do not at once undertake this war: just as in a moment you rose to greatness and power, so in a moment will you be brought low again.4 Are you the man, said the phantom, who in would-be concern for the king is trying to dissuade him from making war on Greece? You will not escape unpunished, either now or hereafter, for in seeking to turn aside that which must happen5

In this case, the Solonian advice given by Artabanus is accepted by Xerxes, he changes his mind about invading Greece, his ambition and hubris is tempered by the experience and wisdom of his advisor. We can hardly blame the two men for believing that the Persian invasion was divinely designed to succeed. But how can we attribute Xerxes change in fortunes to his own downfall, given his willingness to set a limit on his own ambitions? Griffins explanation seems to be that the dreams were a test, a Macbeth temptation:
The whole story of the expedition of Xerxes itself is, in one vital aspect, the story of divine temptation, superhuman presumption and aspiration, and eventual defeat and despair...the divine impels man, by a temptation too strong to be resisted.6

4 5

Herodotus, 7.14 Ibid, 7.17 6 Griffin, p. 49-50

Griffin seems to be suggesting that the god is putting Xerxes apparent humility to the test. This is a good explanation for Xerxes decision, but I think that this is an inadequate summary in one respect, because although Griffin certainly highlights the tragic flavour of Xerxes story, it does not discuss the dilemma forced upon Xerxes. Surely this dilemma weakens the accusation of ambition and hubris, just as it does with Gyges, who kills his master not for ambition, but because Candaules actions put him, Gyges, in a kill or be killed situation. And Gyges of course was fortunate enough to avoid a re-reversal of fortunes. Could not the god then have extended Xerxes the same courtesy, given that he was persuaded to invade by divine coercion invade or fall? Xerxes dilemma is the clearest possible example to support Griffins statement of mutable human fortunes and frail human life. Xerxes double bind means that he will inevitably fall, whatever choice he makes. Is his fate in his own hands at all, or must we simply accept a fatalistic world? If we consider the story of Polycrates, who, following the Solonian advice of Amasis throws away his ring only to have it returned to him again, I think we can avoid this fatalism. On a surface reading of the Samian Logos we are given a situation similar to Xerxes. Polycrates attempts to avoid a reversal of fortunes but fails, and so his fall is inevitable. Of course, on examining the story we quickly realise that Polycrates misunderstood the entire point of Amasis warnings. The ring was not what he valued most, what he valued was his power. Had he thrown away his power who can say how his life would have gone? I suggest then, that Xerxes dilemma is another instantiation of Polycrates dilemma. If Xerxes had seen that his bind was caused by his unwillingness to sacrifice his good fortune (his power and position), then perhaps he could have attempted the same course of action as Polycrates, and if he had succeeded, the ultimate tragedy that enveloped him might have been avoided. I suggest then, that Xerxes bind is self-imposed because the sole criterion for his decision is what will keep him in power; which course of action will keep his fortune good. This saves Xerxes logos from contradicting Herodotus paradigm of the fall of hubristic kings and from the charge of fatalism.

This can be further evidenced if we return to the story of Croesus. It is not until a complete reversal of fortunes, with imminent death facing him that Croesus learns the Solonian lesson:
Croesus, for all his misery, as he stood on the pyre, remembered with what divine truth Solon had declared that no man could be called happy until he was dead.7

It is I think significant that through all his previous sufferings the death of his son, the siege upon Sardis that he never recollected Solons advice. A full reversal of fortunes was essential to endow him with wisdom of the human condition8. A similar complete reversal is necessary to force Cambyses to feel pity and regret for the actions he did for the sake of consolidating his throne. Shapiro notes the importance of experience for understanding Solons wisdom:
Cyrus does not learn wisdom from Solons words any more than Croesus does. The difference is that Croesus later learns wisdom through his own sufferings, while Cyrus good fortune shields him from such experiences.9

Xerxes has no experience of the kind of sufferings that Croesus has, and so like Cyrus, as his invasion takes place we are given increasing examples of his overconfidence and recklessness, and his refusal to take Artabanus advice10. Xerxes appears no longer to recognise wisdom or to envisage the possibility of a reversal of fortunes. I think that the continual testing of Xerxes after he makes the decision to invade is important for tracing his character and to understanding that Solonian wisdom was never his; as Lattimore says, Fallen kings drop their delusions with their power.11 So Xerxes is unable to avoid his bind because he is unable to make the sacrifice and so avoid the decision altogether. He is completely blind to the possibility of a third option to abdicate his throne and accept a new life that will not raise divine jealousy or test human limitations. That a third choice is possible can be inferred from the story of Sabacos:

7 8

Herodotus, 1.86 The debate on whether Croesus actually gains lasting wisdom is taken in by Stahl and Shapiro (see bibliography). 9 Shapiro, p.353 10 Herodotus, 7.46-51 11 Lattimore, p.31

He dreamt that a man stood by his bed and advised him to assemble all the priests in Egypt and cut them in half, and he is supposed to have said that he believed the dream to have been sent by the gods, to provoke him to sacrilege and involve him in some disaster at the hands of either gods or men. He refused, therefore, to do what was advised; on the contrary, he preferred to leave Egypt, as the destined period of his rule there had come to an endhis dream, forced him to leave Egypt of his own accord.12

Xerxes character flaw is what we see in Croesus, Cyrus, Cambyses and Polycrates. In keeping with Griffins tragic theme it is reminiscent of the Sophoclean tragic flaw, flaws that reinforce our frailties because usually we cannot see past them, as the Herodotean kings and tyrants cannot see past their own good fortune and envisage a life without power. This latter characteristic fits in neatly with what Griffin calls, the fragility of human life. The very human fragility of these kings is generally striking because in almost all cases they seem so unaware of it. The most obvious instance of this is Croesus tragic overture to Cyrus before his practical military advice:
I have learnt much from my own cruel misfortunes. Doubtless, if you think that you and your men are immortal, there is little point in my telling you my opinion; but if you recognise the fact that both you and the troops under your command are merely human, then the first thing I would tell you is that human life is like a revolving wheel and never allows the same people to continue long in prosperity.13

Cyrus human frailty is his overconfidence, his hubris and, as this passage indicates, his belief that his success is superhuman. These human weaknesses are the ultimate downfall of Herodotus tyrants. Cambyses regains his human compassion only when he realises that, as a mortal man, he is about to die an early and inglorious death. His absolute power now means nothing and he expresses his regrets for killing his brother Smerdis now recognising the human feelings of kinship and fraternity that had been missing from his soul as he had gained power and lost sanity 14. Herodotus coupling of tyranny with indifference to human ties of family can also be found in the story of
12 13

Herodotus, 2.139 Ibid, 1.207 14 Ibid, 3.65

Periander. Periander kills his wife and exiles his son and makes him a pariah in society.15 It is not until the tyrant feels death approaching that he is moved to reconcile with Lycophron. We can see that as with Cambyses, human bodily weaknesses seem to go hand-in-hand with human feelings, a condition which the absolute monarchs in Herodotus, with so much self-confidence, must experience to understand. So human fragilities are linked with human fortunes; and as the Herodotean tyrant moves further and further away from ordinary human difficulties and frailties, they also isolate themselves from others, paradoxically weakening their own positions, as in the cases of Cambyses and Periander. In the case of Cyrus, Darius, Polycrates and Xerxes, their isolation takes the form, not of crimes against family, but of isolation from their advisors. Although Cyrus accepts Croesus military advice, he is blind to the moral lesson in the above passage. Darius, Polycrates and Xerxes all refuse to heed the warnings given them by their close kin. 16 So character frailties become more pronounced as individual power increases and are the ultimate cause of a change in fortunes. The fickleness of fortune is more than just a major theme. It is a unifying factor throughout The Histories: What lasts in history is change 17, as Stahl remarks about the ending of the proem. The various digressions that Herodotus makes, many of which seem to have little or no bearing on the historical narrative, reinforce or further illustrate the leitmotif, e.g. the story of Arion 18, the story of Sabacos, and the story of Mycerinus19. Herodotus is using these stories to back up his claims about history and the human condition:
I will proceed with my history, telling the story as I go along of small cities of men no less than of great. For most of those which were great once are small today; and those which used to be small were great in my own time. Knowing,

15 16

Herodotus, 3.50-52 Ibid, 3.124, Polycrates warned by his daughter; 4.83, Artabanus warns Darius; 4.46-51, Artabanus warns Xerxes 17 Stahl, p.2 18 Herodotus, 1.23-24 19 Ibid. 2.129-133

therefore, that human prosperity never abides long in the same place, I shall pay attention to both alike.20

Solons dialogue with Croesus, therefore, reflects Herodotus account to us. Solons stories seem to be unconnected except by the moral lesson he wishes to impart about human happiness. The same could be claimed about The Histories and the moral lesson of human fortunes; making Herodotus the paragon of tragic warners, and one who attempts, though as with most tragic warners generally in vain, to impart his wisdom both to his contemporaries and to his later audiences.

20

Ibid, 1.5

Bibliography Griffin, J. 2006 Herodotus and tragedy, in The Cambridge Companion to Herodotus, ed. Dewald C. and Marincola, J., Cambridge University Press Herodotus, The Histories, trans. De Selincourt, A. 2003, Penguin Classics, London Lattimore, R. 1939, The Wise Advisor in Herodotus in Classical Philology, vol.34 Shapiro, S.O. 1994, Learning through Suffering: Human Wisdom in Herodotus, in The Classical Journal, vol. 89

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