Against Alcibiades (2-11)

I myself desired to be included in this number: and consequently I now find myself in the utmost peril. True, in yourselves I have an audience actively devoted to the public good, and that circumstance makes for my salvation; but I have innumerable enemies of the most dangerous kind, and by them I am being misrepresented. Nor is the contest in which I am engaged for the winning of a crown; it is to decide whether one who has done the state no wrong is to spend ten years in exile. The competitors for that prize are Alcibiades, Nicias, and myself. Upon one of us the blow must fall.

Now the legislator[*] responsible for this deserves censure; for the law which he framed violates the oath of the People and Council. Under the terms of that oath you swear to exile no one, to imprison no one, to put no one to death, without trial; whereas on this present occasion, when the person ostracized is to be cut off from his country for so long, no accusation has been made, no defence allowed, and the voting is secret.

Moreover, at a time like this those who have political associates and confederates have an advantage over the rest, because the judges are not appointed by lot as in courts of law: in the present decision every member of the community has a voice. And not only that: the law appears to me to go both too far and not far enough; for wrongs done to individuals I consider such redress as this excessive: for wrongs done to the state I regard it as an insufficient and useless penalty, when you have the right to punish by fine, imprisonment, or death.

Furthermore, if a man is exiled because he is a bad citizen, his leaving Athens will not cure him; wherever he lives, he will do this city harm and intrigue against her no less than hitherto—nay more so and with more justification than before his banishment. Today, too, above all days, your friends, I feel, are filled with sorrow and your enemies with joy, because they know that if you unwittingly banish your best citizen, Athens will derive no benefit from him for ten years.

Then still another fact makes it easy to see that the law is a bad one: we are the only Greeks to observe it, and no other state is prepared to imitate us.[*] Yet it is recognized that the best institutions are those which have proved most suited to democracy and oligarchy alike and which are the most generally favoured.

I see no reason for dwelling further on this subject, as, whatever the outcome, I should achieve nothing of immediate advantage. But I do ask you to preside over our speeches in a fair and impartial manner, and one and all to act as Archons.[*] Do not countenance abuse or undue flattery. Show yourselves kindly to him who desires to speak and to listen: show yourselves stern to him who is insolent and disorderly; for you will decide our fate all the better, if each of the cases to be laid before you is given a hearing.

It remains for me to make a brief reference to my hostility to the democracy and my membership of a political faction. Had I never appeared in court, you would have had some reason for listening to my accusers, and it would have been necessary for me to answer them on these points. But since I have been tried and acquitted four times, I do not consider any further discussion of the subject justified. Before a man is tried, it is difficult to know whether the charges made against him are false or true; but after his acquittal or conviction the matter is decided, and it is settled whether they are the one or the other.

Hence I cannot but think it strange that while defendants who are convicted by but a single vote[*] are put to death and have their property confiscated by you, those who win their case should have to face the same charges again: that while the court has the power to take away life, it should so clearly lack the authority to save it once and finally, especially as the laws forbid the same charge to be brought twice against the same defendant, and you have sworn to observe those laws.

I shall therefore say nothing of myself. I wish instead to remind you of the past of Alcibiades— although such is the multitude of his misdeeds that I am at a loss where to begin: there is not one of them that does not press for mention. Were I faced with the task of describing at length his career as an adulterer, as a stealer of the wives of others, as a perpetrator of acts of lawless violence in general, the time at my disposal would be all too short, and I should furthermore earn the ill-will of many of my fellows for making public the injuries which they have suffered. Of his conduct towards the state, however, and towards the members of his family and such citizens and foreigners as have crossed his path, I will give you some account.

To begin with, he persuaded you to revise the assessment of the tribute of the subject-states made with the utmost fairness by Aristeides.[*] Chosen with nine others to perform the task,[*] he practically doubled the contribution of each member of the alliance, while by showing how formidable he was and how influential, he made the revenues of the state a means of procuring revenue for himself.[*] Now just consider: when our safety depends entirely upon our allies and those allies are acknowledged to be worse off today than in the past, how could anyone do greater mischief than by doubling the tribute of each?