One incident remains to be recorded, before we proceed to the crowning
catastrophe of our great historical drama. The Athenians, it should be
observed, were still nominally at peace with Sparta, and if they had
been wise they would have taken the opportunity of this respite from
hostilities to recover Amphipolis, and consolidate their empire in
Thrace. Instead of this, they looked around for fresh conquests, and
fixed their eyes on the little island of Melos, belonging to the Cyclad
group, which had been colonized in very early times from Sparta.
The Melians had not joined the Confederacy of Delos, and they might
therefore be reproached for sharing the protection of Athens without
making any return. Beyond this the Athenians had no ground of complaint
against them, for they had taken no part in the Peloponnesian War, but
had remained quietly at home, occupied with their own affairs. But
Athens claimed the haughty title of mistress of the sea, and pretended
to regard the neutrality of one insignificant island as an open
defiance of her power. Ten years before an Athenian fleet had been sent
under Nicias to reduce the refractory Melians to subjection; but the
attempt was unsuccessful, and Nicias withdrew, after having ravaged the
outlying districts. Being now more at leisure, the Athenians resolved,
in the mere wantonness of power, that Melos should only be suffered to
exist as a dependency of Athens, and thirty triremes sailed from the
harbour of Peiraeus to carry out the arbitrary decree.
On their arrival at Melos the Athenian admirals sent envoys into the
town, to summon the inhabitants to surrender. The envoys were invited
to a private conference with the chief men of the island; and between
the representatives of Athens and the Melian nobles there ensued an
extraordinary dialogue, which is given at great length by the
historian, and is commonly known as the Melian Debate. We cannot
suppose that the arguments here placed by Thucydides in the mouth of
the Athenian speaker were really uttered as set down by that writer.
Such a paradox of iniquity, such a shameless insult to the general
conscience of humanity, might have been employed by Plato, in exposing
the vicious teaching of the Sophists, or by Aristophanes in the full
riot of his satire: but the total abnegation of principle here implied
could never have been openly avowed by a responsible agent, speaking
for the most polished community in Greece. Even the worst criminals
seek to give some specious colour to their villainy; and the condemned
felon, who will face death without a tremor, shudders at the cry of
execration which greets his appearance at the scaffold. So hard it is,
even for the most depraved, to stifle the last embers of the moral
sense. We cannot suppose, then, that an educated Athenian of the fifth
century would publicly have claimed for his state the right of rapine
and murder. For this is the line of argument pursued by the
representative of Athens in the Melian Debate. The substance of what he
says may briefly be stated as follows "You are weak--we are strong;
Melos is a paltry island, Athens is queen of the Aegaean, and the
existence of an independent city in these waters is an insult to her
empire. Let us waste no time in discussions about abstract law and
right. For the mighty there is but one law--to get what they can, and
to keep it; and the weak have no rights, except by the sufferance of
the strong. This rule of conduct we know to be universal among men, and
we believe that the gods themselves are governed by it. [1] To sum up
the whole case in one word: you must yield or perish."
[1]
Desire of power, on earth a vicious weed,
Yet sprung from high, is of celestial seed;
In God 'tis glory; and when men aspire,
'Tis but a spark too much of heavenly fire.--DRYDEN.
It was in vain that the unhappy Melians tried to argue the question
from a higher standpoint; in vain they warned the Athenians that they
themselves might one day stand before the bar of justice, and plead for
their existence. They were brought back relentlessly to the grim
alternative-submission, or extermination. At length this strange
controversy came to an end, and after one final hint, of fearful
significance, the Athenian envoys withdrew, leaving the Melians to
consider their answer. The brave islanders were not long in coming to
their decision: they would not, they said, consent to enslave a city
which had maintained its liberty for seven hundred years; they put
their trust in divine justice, and in their kinsmen the Spartans, and
were resolved to resist to the last.
On receiving this answer the Athenian commanders at once laid siege to
Melos, and the doomed city was soon closely blockaded by sea and land.
The Melians made a gallant defence, and twice succeeded in breaking
through the lines of the besiegers, and conveying supplies into the
town. But presently reinforcements arrived from Athens, and the Melians
were confined within their walls. All hope of succour from Sparta had
vanished, food began to fail, and treason was at work among the
garrison. Thus driven to extremity, the Melians surrendered at
discretion. Then the Athenians showed that their threats had not been
idly uttered. All the men of military age in Melos were put to death,
the women and children were sold into slavery, and the land was
distributed among Athenian settlers.
In the fifth year of the war, after the capitulation of Mytilene, a
thousand of the inhabitants had been butchered in cold blood; and this
sentence, which seems so cruel to us, was regarded by the Athenians as
an act of mercy. Six years later, the decree which had originally been
passed against Mytilene, was actually executed on Scione, which had
revolted at the instigation of Brasidas. In this act of savage
retribution, Athens still remained within the limits of Greek
international law, which placed the inhabitants of a revolted city at
the mercy of their conquerors. But the case of Melos was different, for
that island had never been included in the Athenian alliance, and the
Melians had done nothing to provoke an attack. Thus the three names,
Mytilene, Scione, and Melos, mark an ascending scale of barbarity,
culminating in a massacre which, even in the eyes of Greeks, was an
atrocious crime. Athens had now offended beyond forgiveness, giving
colour to the accusations of her worst enemies, and heaping up
vengeance for the days to come.