On the False Embassy

Demosthenes

Demosthenes. Vol. II. De Corona, De Falsa Legatione, XVIII, XIX. Vince, C. A. and Vince, J. H., translators. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1926 (1939 reprint).

For I would never pay a man a farthing to stand here by my side and make an outcry about his sufferings, since truth and fact cry out loudly enough. Nay more, the commonalty of the Phocians are in such an evil and pitiable plight that there is no question with them of prosecuting at an Athenian scrutiny—only of living like slaves in mortal terror of Thebans and of Philip’s mercenaries, who are billeted on them after they have been disarmed and distributed among villages.

Do not allow this plea. No, Aeschines must prove either that the Phocians are not ruined, or that he did not promise that Philip would protect them. These are the questions for a scrutiny of an embassy: What has been accomplished? What did you report? If the truth,—go in peace; if falsehood,—take your punishment. What matter if the Phocians are not in court? You have played your part in reducing them to such straits that they can neither help their friends nor repel their enemies.

Moreover, apart from the discredit and infamy attached to these transactions, it is easy to show that they have involved the commonwealth in very serious perils. You all know that the prowess of the Phocians, and their control of the pass of Thermopylae, gave us security against the Thebans, and ensured that neither Philip nor the Thebans would invade either the Peloponnesus, or Euboea, or Attica.

But, overborne by the impostures and falsehoods of these men, you have flung away the security of position and circumstances which the city enjoyed. That security was fortified by arms and an unbroken front, by strongholds of our allies and a broad territory; and you have acquiesced in its devastation. Your former expedition to Thermopylae, made at a cost of more than two hundred talents, if you include the private expenses of the troops, has gone to waste; and so have all your hopes respecting the Thebans.

But of all the many shameful services rendered by Aeschines to Philip, let me mention the one that really implied the most insolent disdain of the city and of you all. Philip was resolved from the first to do for the Thebans all that he has done, but Aeschines by the perversions of his report revealed your repugnance, and so intensified both your hostility and Philip’s friendliness towards the Thebans. How could the man have treated you more arrogantly?

Now take and read the decrees of Diophantus and of Callisthenes. They will show you how, when you did your duty, you made it an occasion of services of praise and thanksgiving, both at Athens and abroad; but when you had been led astray by these men, you brought your wives and children in from the country, and ordered the festival of Heracles to be held within the walls, in time of peace. It makes me wonder whether you will release unpunished a man who has deprived even the gods of immemorial observances. Read the decree.

(The Decree of Diophantus is read)

So you decreed at that time, men of Athens, agreeably to your achievements. Now read the next.

(The Decree of Callisthenes is read)

That is the decree you then made; and you owe it to these men. It was not with such expectations that you either made the first draft of the peace and alliance, or subsequently consented to add the words, and to his posterity, but in the hope of marvellous benefits through their agency. Yes, and since then you all remember how many times you have been agitated by news of Philip’s army and auxiliaries at Porthmus or at Megara. True, he has not yet set foot in Attica; but you must not look only at that and abate your vigilance,—you must bear in mind that, thanks to these men, he has it in his power to do so whenever he chooses. You must keep that danger before your eyes, and abhor and punish the author and purveyor of that power.

No doubt Aeschines will eschew a direct reply to the charges alleged, and in his desire to lead you as far as possible away from the facts, he will dilate on the great blessings that peace brings to the world and set against them the evils of war. He will eulogize peace in general terms, and that will be his defence. But all those considerations tell against him. For, if peace, which brings blessings to others, has brought so much vexation and bewilderment to you, what are we to say except that these men with their bribe-taking have perverted to evil a thing in itself excellent? What next?

Perhaps he will ask: Do you not retain, and shall you not retain through the peace, three hundred war-galleys with stores and money for them?

In reply to that, you have to reflect that Philip also has greatly strengthened his position owing to the peace, as regards his material resources in arms, in territory, in revenues, which last have increased largely.

And so indeed have ours, to some extent. But as to those other resources, of policy and of alliance,—and it is by them that all nations hold advantages for themselves or for stronger states—in our case, bartered away by these men, they have perished, or at least deteriorated: his are now formidable and far greater.[*](Section numbering in the Loeb varies starting in this section and continuing through to 110. Milestones representing the Loeb numbering are indicated.) It is surely unfair that, while Philip, thanks to these men, enjoys extended alliances and increased revenues, the advantages that we should in any case have gained from the peace should be reckoned by them as a set-off against those that they have sold. For our gains are not a compensation for our losses; far from it! No; what we now have would equally have been ours, and what we have not would have been added to us, but for these men.

Speaking generally, men of Athens, you will doubtless agree that, however many misfortunes have befallen the city, if Aeschines had no hand in them, they ought not to be visited upon him. On the other hand, if the right policy has been taken by others, it is not fair that their success should save him. Take into account everything to which he contributed; requite him with gratitude, if he deserves it, with resentment, if his conduct provokes resentment.

How then will you reach a right conclusion? Do not allow him to make a hotch-potch of the faults of the generals, the war with Philip, the blessings of peace; but consider one thing at a time. For example, we were at war with Philip. True. Does anyone blame Aeschines for that? Does anyone wish to arraign him for the events of the war? Not a single man. Then so far he is acquitted; he need not say a word. A defendant should adduce witnesses and submit proofs on the issues in dispute, not mislead the jury by addressing his defence to points of agreement. You are not to say anything about the war, Aeschines. No one blames you for that.

Afterwards certain persons advised us to make peace; we took their advice; we sent ambassadors; and they brought back to Athens envoys authorized to conclude peace. Here again no one blames Aeschines. Does anyone allege that he broached the question of peace? Or that he acted wrongly when he brought the delegates here? Not a single man. Then about the mere fact that the city made peace he need not say a word; for that he is not chargeable.

Suppose I am asked: What do you mean, sir? At what point do you begin your accusations? I begin at this point, men of Athens—at the time when you were deliberating, not whether peace should or should not be made—that question was already decided—but what sort of peace. Then he contradicted men who spoke honestly, and he supported the mover of a venal resolution, being himself bribed. Afterwards, when appointed to receive the oaths of ratification, he disobeyed every one of your instructions; he brought to ruin allies of ours whose safety had never been imperilled in time of war; and he told lies which both in quantity and quality exceed all records of human mendacity before or since. At the outset, until Philip got a hearing on the question of peace, Ctesiphon and Aristodemus undertook the first initiation of the imposture, but, when the business was ripe for action, they passed it on to Philocrates and the defendant, who took it over, and completed the enterprise of destruction.

And now that he is answerable for his misdeeds, and must stand his trial, being as he is a knave, a scoundrel, and—a government clerk,[*](Demosthenes often alludes scornfully to Aeschines’ profession of γραμματεύς. Aeschines seems first to have been private secretary to the statesmen Aristophon and Eubulus. After his career on the stage, he obtained an under-clerkship in the Civil Service, and subsequently became Clerk of the Council and Assembly. This was an official of some dignity; he was appointed by popular election and enjoyed the privilege of free maintenance in the Prytaneum or Town Hall.) he will conduct his defence as if he were on trial for the peace, not to make his justification broader than his indictment—that would be folly—but because he can see in his own acts nothing that is good, nothing that is not criminal, while a defence of the peace, if it has no other merit, will enable him to pose as a Friend of Humanity.

Speaking of the peace, I fear, men of Athens, I sadly fear that we are unconsciously enjoying it like men who borrow money at a high rate of interest. For these men have betrayed the security and guarantee of the peace—the Phocians and Thermopylae. Anyhow, we have not to thank the defendant for peace. What I am going to say is strange, but quite true. If any man is really pleased with the peace, let him be grateful to those generals whom everyone denounces. For, had they fought to your satisfaction, you would have scorned the very name of peace.

Peace, then, we owe to the generals; a perilous, insecure, and precarious peace to these men and their venality. Put a stop, then, to his eloquence about the peace. Make him address himself to his own performances. Aeschines is not on trial for the peace; the peace is discredited through Aeschines. That is easily proved. Suppose that the peace had been concluded, and that you had not thereafter been deluded, and none of your allies destroyed—what human being would the peace have aggrieved? I mean, apart from the consideration that it was not a glorious peace. For that fault Aeschines is indeed partly to blame, as he supported Philocrates. However, in the case supposed, no incurable mischief would have been done. As the case stands, he is answerable for a great deal.

Well, I suppose that you are satisfied that all this ruin and mischief was shamefully and wickedly perpetrated by these men. For my part, gentlemen of the jury, I am so reluctant to play the informer in these matters, or to ask you to do so, that, if we are dealing with blunders due to stupidity or simplicity or any other sort of ignorance, I acquit Aeschines, and invite you to do the like.

And yet ignorance is not a fair excuse in public life; no man is required or compelled by you to handle politics. When a man puts himself forward with a persuasion of his own ability, you receive his advances, as kindly and courteous people should, with goodwill and without jealousy; you give him appointments and entrust him with public business.

If he succeeds, he will be honored, and so far will gain an advantage over ordinary people; but if he fails, shall he put forward excuses and apologies? That would be unfair. For it would be very poor consolation indeed to our ruined allies, or to their wives and children and the rest, to be told that their sufferings were due to stupidity on my part, not to say on his.