On the Chersonese

For no man is so simple as to believe that though Philip covets these wretched objects in Thrace—for what else can one call Drongilus and Cabyle and Mastira and the other places that he is now occupying and equipping?—and though he endures toil and winter storms and deadly peril for the privilege of taking them,

yet he does not covet the Athenian harbors and dockyards and war-galleys and silver mines and the like sources of wealth, but will allow you to retain them, while he winters in that purgatory for the sake of the rye and millet of the Thracian store-pits. It is not so, but it is to win these prizes that he devotes his activities to all those other objects.

What, then, is the task of sound patriots? To know and realize all this, to shake off our outrageous and incurable slothfulness, to contribute funds, to call upon our allies, and to provide and arrange for the permanent upkeep of our existing army, so that just as Philip has a force ready to attack and enslave all the Greek states, so you may have one ready to protect and assist them all.

For if you trust to mere expeditions, you can never gain any of your essential objects. You must first levy a force and provide for its maintenance, and appoint paymasters and clerks, and arrange that there shall be the strictest watch kept over your expenditure, and afterwards you must demand from your paymasters an account of their moneys, and from the general an account of his campaign. If you do this, and if you are really in earnest about it, you will either compel Philip to keep the peace fairly and to abide within his own frontiers—and that would be the greatest blessing of all—or you will fight him on equal terms.

But if anyone thinks that all this means great expense and much toil and worry, he is quite correct, but if he reckons up what will hereafter be the result to Athens if she refuses to act, he will conclude that it is to our interest to perform our duty willingly.

For if you have the guarantee of some god, since no mere mortal could be a satisfactory surety for such an event that if you remain inactive and abandon everything, Philip will not in the end march against yourselves, by Zeus and all the other gods, it would be disgraceful and unworthy of you and of the resources of your city and the record of your ancestors to abandon all the other Greeks to enslavement for the sake of your own ease, and I for one would rather die than be guilty of proposing such a policy. All the same, if someone else proposes it and wins your assent, so be it: offer no resistance, sacrifice everything.

But if no one approves of this, and if on the contrary we all of us foresee that the more we allow him to extend his power, the stronger and more formidable we shall find him in war, what escape is open to us, or why do we delay? When, men of Athens, shall we consent to do our duty? Whenever it is necessary, you will say.

But what any free man would call necessity is not merely present now, but is long ago past, and from the necessity that constrains a slave we must surely pray to be delivered. Do you ask the difference? The strongest necessity that a free man feels is shame for his own position, and I know not if we could name a stronger; but for a slave necessity means stripes and bodily outrage, unfit to name here, from which Heaven defend us!

Therefore, although I would gladly touch on all the other topics and explain the way in which certain politicians are working your ruin, I will confine myself to pointing out that whenever any question arises that concerns Philip, instantly up jumps someone and tells you how good a thing it is to preserve peace, and what a bother it is to keep up a large army, and how certain persons want to plunder your wealth, and all that sort of thing; and by these speeches they put you off and afford leisure for Philip to do whatever he wishes.

But the result of this is for you indeed repose and idleness, for the present—blessings which I am afraid you will one day consider dearly purchased—but for the speakers the popularity and the payment. But in my view it is not to you that they should recommend peace, for you have taken the advice and there you sit: it is to the man who is even now on the war-path.

For if Philip can be won over, your share of the compact is ready to hand. Again, they should reflect that the irksome thing is not the expense of securing our safety, but the doom that will be ours if we shrink from that expense. As for the plunder of your wealth, they ought to prevent that by proposing some way of checking it and not by abandoning your interests.

And yet, men of Athens, it is just this that rouses my indignation, that some of you should be distressed at the prospect of the plunder of your wealth, when you are quite competent to protect it and to punish any offender, but that you are not distressed at the sight of Philip thus plundering every Greek state in turn, the more so as he is plundering them to injure you.

What then is the reason, men of Athens, why these speakers never admit that Philip is provoking war, when he is thus openly conducting campaigns, violating rights, and subduing cities, but when others urge you not to give way to Philip nor submit to these losses, they accuse them of trying to provoke war? I will explain.

It is because they want the natural anger that you would feel at any sufferings in the war to be diverted against your wisest counsellors, so that you may bring them to trial instead of punishing Philip, and that they may themselves be the accusers instead of paying the penalty for their present wrong-doings. That is the meaning of their suggestion that there is a party among you that desires war, and that that is the question you now have to decide.[*](διαδικασία is a lawsuit between rival claimants to an estate, etc. The war-party and the peace-party are here rival claimants for the votes of the Athenians.)

But I am absolutely certain that, without waiting for any Athenian to propose a declaration of war, Philip is in possession of much of our territory and has just dispatched a force against Cardia. If, however, we like to pretend that he is not at war with us, he would be the greatest fool alive if he tried to disprove that.

But when our turn comes, what shall we say then? For of course he will deny that he is attacking us, just as he denied that he was attacking the men of Oreus, when his troops were already in their territory, or the Pheraeans before that, when he was actually assaulting their walls, or the Olynthians at the start, until he was inside their frontiers with his army. Or shall we say, even at that hour, that those who bid us repel him are provoking war? If so, there is nothing left but slavery; for there is no alternative between that and being allowed neither to defend ourselves nor to remain at peace.

Moreover, you have not the same interests at stake as the other cities, for it is not our subjection that Philip aims at, but our annihilation. He is well assured that you will not consent to be slaves; or if you consent, will never learn how to be slaves, for you are accustomed to rule others; but that you will be able, if you seize your opportunity, to cause him more trouble than all the rest of the world.