Greek Statues Were Brightly Painted and Kind of Stupid Looking

The Perception:

Quick, what do you picture in your head when we say, "Ancient Greece"? If you're like most people you either picture lots of dudes standing around in togas, or white marble statues with no pupils in their eyes:

Those ornate statues made of pure white marble, depicting the austere beauty and power of epic gods and heroes, have made quite an impression on history. Renaissance sculptors carved their own marble statues based on the belief that that's how the ever wise Greeks did things.
The Reality:

Ancient Greece looked more like someone crashed their LGBT pride parade into a Mardi Gras Festival.
Recent studies using the awesome powers of lasers and shit (no, seriously!) have found that once completing the iconic marble statues and buildings we know today, the Greeks covered them head to toe in bright primary colors. Greek sculptors worked together with painters to come up with psychedelic patterns and colors to make their statues and buildings pop.

So in the midst of all that theorizing and philosophizing, the Greeks were also really focused on making sure their day to day life looked like the album cover of Magical Mystery Tour. Oh, and you know the iconic Parthenon? Based on the way buildings were painted back then, it was most likely an eye-searing mash of bright yellow, red and blue.

Why We Picture it Wrong:

As years passed, like with the Pyramids, the primitive paint used on the statues chipped and wore off, so when they were rediscovered by later civilizations, they appeared in their all white form. And frankly people just liked the idea of the all white marble look.

Even so, archaeologists knew that the statues used to be painted, since there were ancient records showing people painting the damned things. However, people simply preferred to display the plain white statues, since they looked more like something made by the founders of Western civilization should look like, in the minds of many scholars. Pure, clean, capturing the shape and essence of scientific accuracy and artistic beauty--whereas the painted versions kinda looked like something you might have made during middle school art class.


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Ancient Greek Lessons About Gay Marriage

The dizzying spectrum of same-sex relationships.

The status of same-sex relationships is a central problem for modern Westernized societies. Many countries allow same-sex couples the right to a "civil union" but withhold from them the name of marriage. The Netherlands was the first modern nation to legalize marriage proper for gay people, in 2001. Since then, seven U.S. states have also legalized gay marriages, although one, California, has just backtracked.On May 26, California judges upheld a constitutional amendment banning same- sex marriages in the state—one year after a court decision that had made such unions legal.* The ban is based on the idea that there is—or should be—something fundamentally different about sexual and romantic relationships between people of the same sex and those between a man and a woman. Since history is so often invoked, either implicitly or explicitly, on both sides of the debate, now is a particularly good time to look back at the history of same-sex relationships. Opponents of gay marriage argue that it threatens the "traditional" (i.e., historical?) family, while defenders—like Speaker of the California Assembly Karen Bass—often look to the "tide of history" to overturn the ban.

James Davidson, a British classicist, has just published a fascinating, meandering, funny, and thought-provoking study of how ancient Greek men loved one another, which ought to be required reading for anybody curious about the antecedents of the current impasse. His book is a landmark study that challenges earlier historical interpretations of the evidence. For instance, scholars working in the tradition of Kenneth Dover (author of Greek Homosexuality, 1978) have argued that the Athenians were obsessed with anal sex, which they saw as an act of domination and humiliation. Davidson brilliantly shows that this interpretation is largely a projection on the part of modern historians, who have been reluctant to imagine a world where gay relationships could be expressions of love, affection, and appreciation, rather than deeply skewed power arrangements.

Davidson draws our attention to the variety of social conventions surrounding male same-sex relationships, even within the geographically small area of ancient Greece. The very idea of "Greek love" or "Greek homosexuality" as a single social institution comes to seem somewhat misguided as Davidson shows how very differently people behaved in, say, Sparta, Elis, and Athens. The Athenians—who have bequeathed us the most evidence—were very unusual; citizens of other Greek cities were puzzled by the Athenian practices of "paederasty," or "boy-love," which involved the courtship of young men but which were also associated with the boys' education.

Davidson emphasizes that we should not think of these relationships in terms of child abuse. He argues, more vigorously than other historians have done, that the Athenians themselves were very much concerned to mark the distinction between those who were underage (i.e., under 18) and those who were not. As Davidson portrays it, same-sex relationships—which seem to have generally taken place between youths in their late teens and young men in their early 20s— were an important part of a boy's journey to manhood. Upper-class Athenian men usually got married at around 30, often to a much younger girl. Of course, many men continued to be interested in "boys" even after marriage; happily married poet Sophocles and unhappily married philosopher Socrates both flirted with young men at drinking parties and caused no scandal in doing so. (The amazing thing about Socrates' sex life, according to Plato's Symposium, was not that he fancied the gorgeous Alcibiades but that he resisted having sex with him, even when snugglng under the same blanket.) Long-term same- sex partnerships did exist (for instance between the tragic poet Agathon and his lover Pausanias), but these seem to have been rare and less socially accepted. The assumption was that men grow less crazy for boys as they approach middle age, and that boys would remain attractive to men only until their first beard began to grow— perhaps at around 20, since adolescence came later for ancient people.

Athenians, in turn, were puzzled by the sexual practices of other Greek societies. In Sparta, for instance, a curious kind of sex seems to have been the custom between well-behaved men and chaste teenage boys.Apparently the lover was supposed to relieve himself only by rubbing against the boy's cloak: The cloak had to remain on at all times, as a sort of all-body condom. Cretan rituals were equally strange, from an Athenian perspective. There was a ceremony that Davidson identifies as a form of gay marriage, involving carefully choreographed, public "abductions" of pretty male teenagers by their male lovers. This seems to have been something that happened not to every reasonably attractive boy but only to the very cutest. The boys who were chosen in this way were treated as special thereafter and won the dangerous honor of serving in the front lines in battle. These ceremonies were a way of forming public same-sex
bonds and of conferring a public blessing on the most attractive youngsters in a generation.

In short, there was no single "traditional" way to conduct same-sex relationships in ancient Greece. This fact in itself might make us leery of any claims about what a "normal" or "traditional" domestic setup might look like. Love comes in many guises and gets culturally legitimized in many ways, and that has been true since antiquity. Any claim about "the way things have always been" is liable to be false.

Sweeping claims about the social impact of sexual arrangements should be made with caution, too. Instead, history can usefully complicate contemporary assumptions. Opponents of gay marriage often express concern that legalizing such relationships will somehow damage our communities. Davidson's book argues convincingly that in ancient Greece, at least, socially accepted relationships between men actually worked to create greater cohesiveness within the city-state. Men whose lovers or ex-lovers were in a different parish, a different social class, or from a different age group had a connection that in turn helped bind the larger community together. In Athens in 514 B.C., for example, the tyrant Hipparchus tried to steal the aristocratic boyfriend of a middle-class young man named Aristogeiton; the boy refused, and the lovers banded together to assassinate the tyrant and his brother. Aristogeiton and his beloved Harmodius were much celebrated in later poetry and art. Their love, which overcame the boundaries of both class and tyranny, became an emblem for the democracy that developed in Athens six or seven years later.

Greek Love provides an important invitation to open our eyes to the multiplicity of ways in which people loved one another in ancient Greece. Davidson's perspective blurs the long-running debate over the theory, associated with Foucault, that "homosexuality" is a category of modern vintage; his emphasis on relationships, rather than sexual identity, helps us see that on many levels, it really doesn't matter much whether any Greeks thought of themselves as "gay." And if labels matter less than love in its many guises, that in itself is an argument against the claim that there is anything unnatural about extending the option of marriage—of public acknowledgment of a sexual, domestic, and romantic partnership—to homosexual couples

But looking back to Greece should also make us cautious of claims about "the tide of history." History comes in waves, not tides. There is, unfortunately, no reason to expect that time by itself will lead to progress. History is always a weak argument for social change. The fact that the Greeks recognized a wide variety of same-sex bonds, and the Victorians did not, tells us nothing about what ought to happen in California, or in the rest of the United States for that matter. We should remember a simple truth known to anybody who has taken Philosophy 101: You can't get an ought from an is (or even a was). Whatever public legitimacy was, or was not, granted to same-sex relationships in any previous culture, it would still be entirely unjust, within the terms of our own society, to deny homosexual couples the legal status available to heterosexual relationships.

Correction,Sept. 29, 2009: This article originally stated that California lawmakers upheld a ban on same-sex marriages on May 26. The author meant California judges. (Return to the corrected sentence.)

Emily Wilson teaches classical literature at the University of Pennsylvania. She is the author of a book about tragedy.

Originally Posted Tuesday, Sept. 22, 2009

The Woman Behind Alexander the Great: Olympias

The Figurehead:

Alexander the Great was, well, great (there was very little tendency towards sarcastic monikers in ancient times). By the time he died, he was the proclaimed king of Asia, with a kingdom which stretched from Greece and Egypt to modern India--comprising one of the largest and most culturally diverse empires the world has ever seen. Intelligent, courageous and a leader of men; Alexander the Great was a man's man.

The Woman Behind the Scenes

He was also a momma's boy. You may already be tangentially aware of the existence of Alexander's mother thanks to the frighteningly boner-inducing depiction of Olympias by Angelina Jolie. Never has an audience been given so much reason to forgive an Oedipus Complex than the movie Alexander.

Beautiful, powerful and heavily involved in a snake-worshiping cult of Dionysus, Olympias is regularly depicted as sleeping with snakes. Hell, Olympias was the Angelina Jolie of 4th century B.C.

When questions came up about Alexander's claim to the throne, she claimed that the god Zeus himself impregnated her under an oak tree, a legitimate claim to any damn throne Alex could point a finger at. Knowing Olympias, that is strangely plausible.

When her husband, Phillip, took a new wife and divorced Olympias, she had him assassinated. Well, we don't know for sure she was behind it, but let's just say she is said to have placed a golden crown on the murderer, dedicated a memorial to him and hung the sword he used to kill Phillip in a temple of Apollo, elevating it to the status of a legendary weapon. She then forced her replacement wife to hang herself and had the two children she had with Phillip killed, assuring Alexander's claim to the throne was unrivaled.

When the now-king Alexander was gone (read: the entire time he was king), Olympias wielded great influence and power, often contradicting the efforts of the guy who was supposed to do that, the regent Antipater. Antipater's many official complaints on the matter went unnoticed by Alexander, who was happy to let his mother do as she wished. Hell, between wanting to fuck her and being scared to death of her, who wouldn't?

The Final Bitchslap

After Alexander's death, Olympias remained a prominent world figure, waging wars on behalf of her grandson's failed claim to the throne. Most telling is the last message from Antipater to his beloved Macedonian people. On his deathbed, with Olympias eager for the opportunity his vacant seat would provide, Antipater coughed out a warning to the Macedonians to never let a woman rule over them. Not a hot one, anyway.

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Alexander @ Cracked

Alexander the Great was the king of Macedon during the 4th century B.C. who saw the Mediterranean, the Middle East, and Asia and decided they would make a really bitchin' backyard.


Alexander on a typical Thursday



Just the Facts
  • Alexander was born in 356 B.C. in Macedon.
  • In creating the Pan-Hellenic Empire, Alexander arguably created the world's first superpower.
  • Used complex, long-term strategies to win land, riches, and conquests through methods other than killing everyone. This philosophy was later termed grand strategy.
  • When it did come time to knuckle down and kill everyone, he turned out to be pretty good at that too.


  • Youth
    Alexander was the son of King Philip II of Macedon and his fourth wife Olympias. On his father's side of the family, he boasted to be descended from Heracles (more commonly Hercules to modern audiences). On his mother's side, he claimed descent from Achilles, the great warrior who fought and died in the siege of Troy. As if he needed something else to brag about, his mother and father both claimed to have prophetic dreams the night of his conception that led them to believe that Zeus was involved in creating the child. Talk about winning the genetic lottery.

    Some serious shit went down the day of Alexander's birth. Philip's army defeated the combined forces of their neighbors the Illyrians and the Paeonians. Philip's horses also won in the Olympic games. And the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, burned down. There's a joke in there somewhere, but honestly we're still not entirely sure how to react to that.

    Realizing that they had a child on their hands whose birthday seemed to be directed by Roland Emmerich, Philip and Olympias did the only reasonable thing two parents could do: they had him tutored by the smartest son of a bitch in all of Greece. Philip appointed Aristotle as Alexander's personal teacher. For a classroom, they used the Temple of the Nymphs at Meiza. Yeah, take a moment to think about that.

    Further cementing his reputation as the coolest dad in the ancient world, Philip also allowed Alexander a crack at taming the meanest warhorse he'd ever seen. Despite being 10 at the time, little Alex succeeded. He named the horse Bucephalus and would take the horse with him on his military campaign all the way to India. When the horse finally passed away from old age, Alexander named one of his many new just-conquered cities after him as Bucephala, which stands to this day. Nothing like a pet getting a city named after it to make you feel inadequate, don't you think?


    Teenage War Hero
    No that is not the title of a retro 80's-style romantic comedy. At least, not until we finish the screenplay. Alexander really was 16 years old when he started commanding Macedonian armies to crush the nuts of whoever looked at him funny. He fought a long campaign afterward with his father that established the Hellenic Alliance. Keep in mind that Alexander did all this by riding in the front lines with his armies so that he could show them the proper way to kill.

    Despite the father/son bonding that military conquest usually entails, a rift was fast growing between Philip and Alexander largely over the fact that Philip took yet another wife who was herself a Macedonian, meaning that any heir she produced would have a greater claim to the throne than Alexander who was only half Macedonian. At a banquet Alexander made his father look like a drunken buffoon and went to live in Illyria for a little while before continuing to dick with his father's plans to produce a pure Macedonian heir.

    It should be noted that the Illyrians treated Alexander as a respected guest. And the memory of him kicking their asses in battle was still fresh in the mind. So if this story teaches us nothing else, it's that you can totally beat favors and respect out of people.


    Alexander Becomes King (Through a Shitload of Violence)
    In 336 B.C. Philip was assassinated by one of his bodyguards during his daughter's wedding. Which as dick moves go is pretty spectacular. The assassin was caught and killed on the spot, but Alexander, 20 years old at the time, saw opportunity and moved quickly. Before the dust had settled, the Macedonian army named him king. And in the ancient world, you tended not to argue with the guys who had all the weapons when it came to appointing government officials.

    Also par for the course in the ancient world, Alexander consolidated his power through murder. Lots of it. Of the people who were potential threats to his claim to the throne, he only spared two of them. The first he simply put into custody (to be murdered a few years later) and the second was too mentally disabled to be considered a credible threat. Some speculate that the source of his brain damage was Olympias botching an attempt to poison him. Did we mention that she was stone cold crazy and kind of a bitch?

    In the wake of Philip's death, most of the Greek citystates decided they had had enough of that Hellenic Alliance shit and tried to rebel. Alexander was advised to use diplomacy but it turns out he just wasn't in the mood for that. Instead he took his cavalry and went to go brutalize the rest of Greece back into line. Seeing the writing on the wall, most of the Greek armies chose to just surrender, including Athens. What really caught them off-guard was that he pardoned everyone involved in the revolt. We imagine he did so with a conspiratorial grin and a sinister laugh just to fuck with them.

    Where shit got complicated was when Alexander went to secure the northern border by finding everything that didn't like Macedonians and relieving it of those pesky rebellious tendencies via violence. Illyria hadn't learned from past mistakes, tried to rebel and soon found themselves being smacked down like an uppity ho. But they got off light compared to Thebes. Thebes wouldn't surrender, so Alexander burned the city to the ground and killed almost everyone in it. He let the neighbors who were smart enough to surrender divide up what was left of the land. After Athens finished soiling themselves, they dropped that revolt bullshit and agreed that living under a Macedonian was better than dying under the hooves of his warhorse.

    Now that Alexander had finished either terrifying or slaughtering his enemies into submission, it was time to put his gigantic balls to the wall and go after the real prize: the Persian empire.


    Persia II: This Time it's Personal
    This might require a little background. Empires trying to kick the crap out of each other wasn't really all that uncommon back in those days. Understand that if you were part of one empire and learned of another one, it was on. You were pretty much obligated to go to war and stomp on each other's faces because that's just what empires do. And the Greeks and Persians took that shit seriously. Greece wasn't even an empire proper, but they and the Persians still loved to mix it up.

    The fighting had come to a stalemate because the Persian navy pretty much dominated the Mediterranean, but on land the Greek army were the superior fighters. Their respective strengths made them veritable opposites while being evenly matched. This was comic book superhero stuff centuries before comic books were even invented.

    With all this in mind, no one was particularly surprised when Alexander decided now that he had an empire that he should get all up in the Persians' grill. The generals advised him to build up the strength of the Greek navy so that they could take the Persians on at sea. But Alexander, like the loose cannon cop on the edge of the law who doesn't play by the rules, told them to fuck off because he had a plan.

    He took the Greek army into Asia minor and proceeded to take every town he crossed from whatever poor schmuck was ruling them at the time. When he came to the town of Gordium, he found the Gordian Knot, a giant mass of rope so tangled that no one had ever figured out how to untie it. Prophecy said that whoever could solve the Gordian Knot would become the king of Asia. Alexander took his sword and hacked it apart in a manner that would be immortalized in analogies for years to come. We like to imagine this was preceded by him saying, "Check this out."

    After that display of smugness and creativity, he went on his asskicking tour of the coast slowly winding his way down. The Persians offered some resistance, but for the most part he was having a relatively easy time of it. Whatever town he conquered was incorporated into the Hellenic empire, allowed to keep their local customs, and all of the unpopular Persian policies were done away with. After a while, the towns saw what a sweet deal they'd be getting so they just started surrendering and asking to join the Greeks. By the time Alexander reached Egypt, they greeted him as a liberator and gave Persia the finger.

    At this point, the plan came together. The Persian navy no longer had any strategically viable ports to dock at and was rendered useless. And without the stores of grain and wealth coming from Egypt, the empire's economy started to suffer as well while Alexander used it to strengthen his own army. That's like bullying a guy at the beach only to learn that when your back was turned he slept with your girlfriend.

    With all of that taken care of, Alexander marched on and captured Assyria, Babylon, and finally the capital Persepolis itself. He now had the largest empire in the world.


    India: Because It Was There
    You know how we just said that Alexander controlled the largest empire in the world? After remembering the whole Gordian Knot thing, he decided it wasn't largest enough. His next target was India. Strategically it made sense as it would provide a route into Asia that didn't involve dealing with those batshit psychos in what would later become Afghanistan. India was also attractive for its vast agricultural resources and exotic goods.

    Feeling gracious (and pompous), Alexander offered the Indian chieftans the chance to come and submit to his authority. Since he offered a reasonably high standard of living for that time period, some of them thought this to be a good deal and decided they could put up with taking a few orders here and there from a foreign megalomaniac. Those that didn't give in... well, you probably know where this is going.

    Long story short, the Greek army proceeded to ruin a bunch of Indians' shit over a series of lengthy and bloody battles, including chasing one tribe across the land and engaging them in four different sieges. After an epic battle with the armies of the Punjabi ruler Porus, Alexander was pretty damn impressed by how much harder these guys fought than the Persians and made an alliance with Porus, appointing him ruler of one of the new Hellenic Indian satrapies.

    Alexander himself was wounded from fighting and his armies were weary. Finally figuring he had kicked enough ass (for now), Alexander sent his men home on the return to Persia. Naturally, when he got back he killed everyone who became corrupt and traitorous in his absence. That's just how he rolled.


    Death
    While staying in Persia, Alexander was planning a new campaign starting with the invasion of Arabia. Maybe he just really wanted a new horse. It doesn't matter because he never got around to it due to the fact that he rather inconveniently died at the age of 32. Yes, you heard that right. All of these accomplishments and he was only 32. If you are in your 30's and reading this, you may go ahead and start your mid-life crisis ahead of schedule.

    He fell ill after drinking one night, which wasn't all that suspicious. The fact that it lasted almost two weeks before he croaked was. Some have speculated that he was poisoned. If you have been at all paying attention through this topic, you probably can imagine why they would think that. There was no political disagreement that you couldn't solve with murder back then and the Macedonians in particular loved to get their assassin on. The main argument against this is the fact that it took 12 days for the bastard to die. That's not a particularly efficient poison.

    More likely, he died of malaria. It's very War of the Worlds-esque that history seems to turn on the activities of mosquitoes. Mosquitoes are bastards.

    After Alexander's death, he was interred in a gold sarcophagus. His remains were later taken to Memphis, then Alexandria, and then... well honestly nobody knows where the fuck he is right now. After a long history of Mediterranean rulers filing past his corpse thinking that they could catch some of that Macedonian mojo (including Caligula stealing Alexander's breastplate so that he could wear it back home for a creepy motherfucker contest), we're inclined to believe his ghost finally got sick of that shit and just hid the body so he could get some fucking sleep.

    Today he is one of the most legendary figures in history. His spread of Greek culture had a geometric effect on the development of the modern world and he changed both politics and warfare. He was the role model for the Roman empire and his formation of the Indian satrapies indirectly led to the creation of the most powerful royal dynasty in Indian history... So what have you done today?


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    Agis III of Sparta, 331 BC

    "He ordered the rest to make their escape with all speed and to save themselves for the service of their country, but he himself armed and rising to his knees defended himself, killed some of the enemy and was himself slain by a javelin cast."

    - Diodorus, Library of History

    When Agis III succeeded his father as King of Sparta in 338 BC, Alexander the Great was off in Persia fighting Emperor Darius III. Figuring it was a good time to fuck some shit up, A3 as he was known in the underground hip-hop scene, rallied anti-Macedonian leaders to his cause, raised a decent army, invaded Crete and started pushing his way towards Athens.

    Agis wasn't above petty vandalism to make his point.

    Deciding this guy wasn't fucking around, Alexander sent his most battle hardened general and an army of 40,000 men to open a 10-gallon drum of thermonuclear whoop-ass on the Spartans. On the battlefield outside the city of Megalopolis (they just don't name cities like they used to) the two armies faced off in one of the largest battles ever fought between Greek armies in the Classical Age.

    Despite being outnumbered roughly two-to-one, Agis wasn't going to back down from any opportunity to drench the tip of his spear in a few gallons of human plasma. Screaming the most horrible profanities they could think of as they went, A3 charged out in front of his men and fought like a goddamned madman, slashing people with his Spartan blades, before receiving a disturbing number of reciprocal wounds across his chest, head and legs.

    Figuring he was dead, A3's guards recovered his severely-wounded body, laid him on his shield and began carrying him from the field. Remembering that he was a shit-wrecking King, A3 decided he wasn't going to let a few pesky mortal wounds keep him on the sideline while his army got destroyed.

    So he ordered his army to retreat while he held off the onslaught. By himself.

    Unable to stand and bleeding like a poorly wrapped package from the butcher shop, Agis got to his knees, gripped his blades and proceeded to hamstring enough charging enemy troops to buy his army time to withdrawal. The Macedonians backed off slowly, presumably because they'd just gotten owned by one dude on his knees. Realizing they didn't want to get anywhere near his swords, someone chucked a javelin through his torso, probably catching at least a bit of his enormous balls in the process.


    Further Reading:
    • Diodorus. Library of History. Trans. C.B. Wells. Harvard Univ. Press, 1967.
    • The Cambridge Ancient History. Ed. John Boardman. Cambridge Univ. Press, 1982.
    • Warry, John. Alexander, 324-323 BC. Osprey, 1991.
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    Gold and Aristotle

    In a decision made on April 11, 2001, the Greek Council of the State (Greece's Supreme Court) decided that TVX, a Canadian gold company that aimed to build a large gold-processing plant near the ancient city of Stageira in Chalcidice, northern Greece, could not go ahead with its plans. The Council ruled by a large majority, 20 to 7, that the company's plans would endanger the area's environment and antiquities. It was a huge victory for Greek archaeologists, environmentalists, and the inhabitants of nearby Olympiada village and a sharp rebuke to the Greek government, especially to Deputy Finance Minister Pahtas and Environment Minister Laliotis, and to the Ministry for Culture's Central Archaeological Council, which had accepted TVX's environmental study.

    Archaeologists and conservationists had feared that the plant would severely effect the environment, seriously threatening the health and way of life of Olympiada, a village close to the ancient city, and the antiquities. Situated on a promontory on the east coast of the Chalcidice peninsula, Stageira, the birthplace of Aristotle, was destroyed in 349 B.C. by the powerful Macedonian king Philip II.

    Despite protracted mass demonstrations during the last decade by the inhabitants of Olympiada and nearby villages, TVX Hellas-Hellenic Gold pushed ahead with its plans. The company secured the full backing of the Greek Government, the Ministry for Culture, the Ministry for Environment, and certain archaeologist and scholars who sit of the Central Archaeological Council (CAC), the advisory body of the Minister for Culture. In May 2000, CAC members voted by 12 to 4 to allow TVX to build their plant literally on top of an archaeological site that includes Early Iron Age (tenth century B.C.) settlements and Hellenistic era antiquities.

    When TVX-Hellas's plans were unveiled in 1996, nearly 100 archaeologists and scholars from the United States and Europe signed protest resolutions. The Greek branch of the International Council on Monuments and Sites described the proposal to establish a gold-processing plant in the "native city of the great philosopher Aristotle" as "a time bomb."

    TVX-Hellas is half owned by Toronto-based TVX Gold, Inc., and half by Normandy Mining, Ltd., of Australia. Its gold-production method consists of using cyan to extract gold from the large quantities of mined arsenic pyrites. The result is colossal amounts of toxic waste dumped into tailing ponds.

    During the last few years, the area close to the ancient city of Stageira frequently turned into a battlefield. There were mass demonstrations by local people opposed to the TVX-Hellas plant. Resistance ommittees were formed and an outpost was set up on the road from the village of Olympiada to the mining installations, which operated 24-hours a day throughout the year. Violent clashes with the special riot units of the Greek police, sent in from Athens and Salonica, resulted in hundreds of arrests. Police set up road blocks and stopped locals going about their business. Incidents of police placing their revolvers against people's heads were reported. At mass trials demonstrators--mostly inhabitants of the Olympiada--were accused of "resistance to police" and "destruction of private property" and dozens were convicted and sentenced to jail.

    Soultana Athanasiadou, who lives in Olympiada, spoke of the fear and insecurity felt by the villagers. "We fear for our health and for the village. We have a beautiful village surrounded by forests, clean sea, and ancient Stageira. Many tourists come here. All this would be gone if TVX have their way."

    Nikos Mitsios, a local Councilor, pointed out that TVX-Hellas was preparing a large-scale installation that would have processed "not just the minerals produced at Chalcidice, but also minerals from all over the Balkans and the eastern Mediterranean." It would, he said, have become "an international processing center using cyan and arsenic, deadly toxic materials."

    Mitsios was tried seven times and has received a total sentence of 12 years on charges relating to demonstrations. He spoke of the "cynicism and hypocrisy" of the Greek Government and of the ex-Minister for Culture, Elisavet Papazoi, currently Deputy Foreign Minister. A few years ago Papazoi strongly protested against the establishment of a gold-processing plant close to the ancient city of Pergamos on the Aegean shore of Turkey, but signed the decision allowing TVX-Hellas to build a similar plant on top of antiquities in Greece.

    A road built in 1960, and now out of use, bisects the archaeological site of Stageira. Road constructors paid no attention then to antiquities, but since 1990, following repeated intensive petitioning by local Olympiada authorities to the Ministry for Culture, the archaeologist of the 16th Ephorate (district) of the Greek Archaeological Service, Kostas Sismanides, is excavating the city of Stageira. His team has unearthed the city walls, the Agora, temples, and other buildings of the sixth-fourth centuries B.C., as well as houses dated to the fourth-third centuries B.C.

    Sismanides holds that following its destruction the city became uninhabited, although the third-century B.C. houses his excavations revealed need explaining. In Byzantine times (tenth-eleventh centuries A.D.), defensive walls, a fort, and some related installations were built; these are being excavated by the 10th Ephorate of Byzantine Antiquities.

    Clearly visible at a distance of just three kilometers from the site of ancient Stageira and two kilometers from the village of Olympiada, are the installations of the gold mine acquired in 1996 by TVX-Hellas. Following a decision by the Ministry for Culture in July 1999, archaeological excavations were carried out in September-November 1999 at the specified area where TVX-Hellas proposed building their gold-processing plant.

    The excavations, carried out by Sismanides, revealed remains of Early Iron Age (tenth century B.C.) settlements and buildings of the Hellenistic era (third-first centuries B.C.) including parts of a city wall, standing up to 1.50 meters high and 2.60 meters thick, a sacrificial area, houses with cobbled stone floors, storage spaces, and workshops including two well-preserved pottery furnaces dated to the fourth-third centuries B.C. Some members of the CAC have expressed doubts about what Sismanides describes as "city wall" and "sacrificial area."

    Sismanides holds that the whole area upon which TVX-Hellas intended to build the gold-processing plant lies "in the middle of a large ancient city which, according to the archaeological finds, flourished from the middle of the fourth to the first century B.C." According to the ancient Greek historian Plutarch, when Aristotle was tutor to Philip's son the later Alexander the Great, he appealed successfully to the Macedonian king to allow the inhabitants of Stageira to rebuild their city a few years after its destruction.

    For Sismanides, the city he claims to have found is the rebuilt Stageira of the Hellenistic times, although he has yet to find any inscriptions confirming this. He states that "I'm able to say this because all excavated finds are dated post the middle of the fourth century B.C." that is after the destruction of the Stageira of the Classical era. But his view is doubted by archaeologist Haido Koukouli, current acting head of the 16th Ephorate, who says that it is not certain that the finds indicate an ancient city.

    The problem is that Sismanides was not allowed to complete his excavations at this site. Minister for Culture Papozoi remained convinced that there was no reason why the TVX-Hellas plans should not go ahead. She could only allow Sismanides to carry out limited excavations to be concluded by May 15, 2000, a decision that brought fierce protests from local Olympiada authorities.

    Sismanides identified numerous archaeological settlements from prehistoric times to the nineteenth century A.D. near the area he was able to excavate. These uninvestigated sites were seriously threatened by the construction of the proposed gold-processing plant and the toxic waste it would have generated.

    TVX-Hellas proposed that the toxic waste should be dumped at a new tailings pond to be created at a ravine three kilometers away. Preliminary excavations in that area, carried out in the second half of 1999 by Yiannis Tavlakis of the 10th Ephorate of Byzantine Antiquities, produced few pottery sherds from the thirteenth century A.D. onward and remains of various mine related buildings from Byzantine to modern times.

    The site of the proposed tailings pond was on the boundary of a Natura 2000 protected site that was officially described in 1999 by Kimon Chatzibiros, an associate professor at the National Technical University of Athens, as a "landscape which refers to the image we have about virgin prehistoric nature. Its condition is characterized as natural and perfect," which is "very sensitive to any intervention."

    The cyan gold-processing method is practiced in the United States and elsewhere, although it has been heavily criticized. The policy of the European Union is unclear, but cyan is being used widely at a number of gold mines in Eastern Europe. It was at an old processing plant of this type at Baia Mare, Romania, where a tailings pond dam recently failed, causing an unprecedented pollution and ecological catastrophe which effected Hungary, Yugoslavia, and Bulgaria. Drinking water was contaminated and the fish population was exterminated.

    The Chairman of the Board and Managing Director of TVX-Hellas Yiannis Drapaniotis claimed that "the Baia Mare case does not apply to TVX." Although he accepted the possibility that "cyan can cause great damage to the ecosystem," he emphasized that TVX-Hellas would take all measures for "destroying cyan" after use and insists that the processing method was "not dangerous."

    TVX-Hellas financed the archaeological excavations at the site to the tune of over 200 million drachmas (about $500,000.00). Drapaniotis stated that his company was prepared to "take every measure to protect and preserve the antiquities found and will make them accessible to visiting scholars." TVX-Hellas also contributed substantially to a fund donated by the Greek Head of State Kostas Stefanopoulos to the Royal Ontario Museum as a contribution to a new exhibition hall for Greek antiquities.

    But TVX-Hellas has been accused numerous times of ignoring environmental restrictions imposed by the Greek Ministry for the Environment and neglect towards antiquities. In fact, the 16th Ephorate of Antiquities filed a legal suit against the company for the alleged destruction of antiquities at two locations. In the early 1970s, when Greece was ruled by a military junta, the then owner of the gold mines carried out ground leveling activities that obliterated antiquities near Sismanides' excavations.

    By the 1980s, METBA, a Greek state-owned company, attempted to revive and extend gold processing at Olympiada. The outcome of this attempt is clearly and revealingly set out in an official parliamentary reply in April 1992 by the Deputy Minister for Industry and Technology to a question asked by Christos Pahtas, a Parliamentary Deputy for Chalcidice: "As regards the investment for gold production from the pyrites of Chalcidice by METBA, we inform you that the investment was definitively canceled because the area's inhabitants, as well as the local authorities, strongly reacted and called upon the Government not to go ahead with the establishment of such a plant in Chalcidice. The same reaction occurred at other areas where an attempt was made to establish the plant."

    According to local Olympiada authorities, Pahtas, who with the election of a new Greek Government in the fall of 1993 became the Deputy Minister for Industry and Technology, played a leading role in supporting TVX-Hellas's successful bid to buy up the gold mines at Olympiada and elsewhere in the Chalcidice peninsula.

    In January 1994, alarmed by "unconfirmed information" that the Ministry was planning the establishment of a large gold-processing plant at Olympiada, the late Ioulia Vokotopoulou, then head of the 16th Ephorate of Antiquities, sent an "urgent" letter to Pahtas, stating that "the excavation of ancient Stageira is in process with very important finds up to now, which augur for important future discoveries. This fact and the name of Aristotle, the philosopher from Stageira, already make this area one of the most important historical and archaeological sites in Europe."

    In 1995, the then Minister for Culture Thanos Mikroutsikos stated in Parliament that it would be "a world's first and shame if a gold metallurgy is constructed near the ancient Stageira." By contrast, in 1998, Pahtas, now a Deputy Finance Minister, declared according to a press report, that "the Government and company will face together whatever reactions." In that year the Government's candidates were heavily defeated at local elections in the wider area of Stageira.

    In May 2000, the Central Archaeological Council decided by a 12 to 4 vote to allow TVX-Hellas to build their plant right next to antiquities excavated by Sismanides. Dimitris Konstantios, Director of the Byzantine Museum in Athens, stated in the CAC session that he could not agree with the view that the antiquities excavated at the proposed TVX-Hellas plant be protected, but not the "cultural entity as a whole," that is the totality of the archaeological site. The Chairperson of the CAC Lina Mendoni, the General Secretary of the Ministry for Culture, replied to Kostantios' argument by stating that the "subject of the cultural landscape" could have been discussed if earlier mining and processing operations "had not altered so much" of the landscape.

    Ironically this very issue was included in archaeological legislation revealed at the end of the September 2000 by the current Minister for Culture, Theodoros Pangalos, who like his immediate predecessor and like the Greek Ministry for the Environment, has approved the gold plant. The new bill states that "archaeological sites include the necessary surrounding space, which allows monuments to preserve their historical, aesthetic and operational unity." This view has been accepted by the CAC, but when the Council proposed a 300-meter protective zone around the antiquities at the TVX-Hellas premises, the company challenged it.

    The study and protection of archaeological sites and monuments in unity with their natural environment, is a cornerstone of modern archaeology and site management. This philosophy has been codified and included at international cultural conventions and in agreements ratified by Greece. Yet it appeared that the Greek Government gave the go-ahead to TVX-Hellas' plans, on the pretext of a financial investment crucial to the Greek economy, while contravening international agreements and simultaneously proposing a new archaeological law of which cases such as TVX-Hellas would have been in violation. It is also contradictory that a few years ago the Greek Government decided to preserve, protect, and make available to the public the remains of the Lykeion, Aristotle's school in Athens, while it would abandon the ruins of the philosopher's native city to a company whose activities, by their very nature, would drastically alter the environment.

    Such paradoxes can only be explained by a double standard. The Greek government in theory accepts the principles of archaeology and protection for antiquities, but in practice, such principles can be waived at the behest of powerful companies who have the expressed support of Ministers. This situation is a mockery of science, ethics, and the law.

    On both sides of the Aegean, at Stageira and at Pergamos, the drama of gold-processing plants versus peoples' health, the environment, and antiquities has been acted out on epic proportions, in the cases of extreme importance for the future of proper protection of antiquities. It appears that Normandy Mining Ltd., half-owner of TVX-Hellas, also own the gold plant near Pergamos, as well as a company that is trying to establish gold-processing plants in Thrace, northeastern Greece. The locals' wishes and rights are being suppressed by state agencies who, in a truly "big brother" mentality, say they know best. As the Managing Director of TVX-Hellas put it, "the wider society and the Greek state decided in favor of the gold plant for the benefit of local society."

    And so, the archaeological area of Stageira and the inhabitants of Olympiada, descendants of refugees from Asia Minor, faced a second destruction. This time by toxic waste and road and port facilities constructions which would transform the present picturesque tourist resort into a heavily polluted environment. It was under these circumstances that the local Olympiada authorities appealed to the Council of the State in a final attempt to reverse the government's decision to allow TVX-Hellas build a gold-processing plant.

    The April 11 decision by the Council of the State may mean the end for TVX-Hellas's plans, but in theory, the company can produce a revised environmental study of the consequences of the gold-processing plant operations. This new study would have to be considered by the Council of the State. In the past, however, the Council of the State has never overturned any of its previous decisions.

    Originally posted: Archaeology

    Winning at Olympia

    You say, "I want to win at Olympia." ...If you do, you will have to obey instructions, eat according to regulations, keep away from desserts, exercise on a fixed schedule at definite hours, in both heat and cold; you must not drink cold water nor can you have a drink of wine whenever you want. You must hand yourself over to your coach exactly as you would to a doctor. Then in the contest itself you must gouge and be gouged, there will be times when you will sprain a wrist, turn your ankle, swallow mouthfuls of sand, and be flogged. And after all that there are times when you lose.

    Epictetus, Discourses 15.2-5, trans. W.E. Sweet


    This summer in Athens athletes, officials, spectators, promoters, and reporters will once again witness the spectacle of the modern Olympics. Many will assume that the modern games are a true reflection of the ancient ones, that the events and ceremonies and the ideology of universal brotherhood and amateurism recall the Olympics of Greece's golden age. They would be surprised to learn that the ancient contests were quite different from our own, and that Greek athletes were not amateurs.

    A generation ago the study of ancient sport focused on antiquarian concerns--how Greeks threw the discus or how far they could jump. Glossing over the violent, erotic, and materialistic aspects of Greek sport, and downplaying abuses and opportunism, scholars simply accepted idealistic notions about who these athletes were and why they competed. Now, using a variety of evidence, we are demythologizing the ancient Olympics. Excavations at Olympia and at the sites of other games have led to a new understanding of athletic participation and the role of spectators in ancient sport. Archaeology and art history, especially epigraphy and the reexamination of vase paintings, have allowed us to test and revise ancient literary accounts of how athletes trained, worshiped, competed, won, and celebrated, and how they were motivated, rewarded, and honored.

    Every four years heralds traveled throughout the ancient Greek world proclaiming a sacred truce, affording safe passage through any state for all travelers to and from the games. All Greeks were invited to attend or compete in the great festival and games at the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia. And come they did, from 776 B.C. (the traditional date of the first Olympiad) to at least the late fourth century A.D., making the games the most enduring of Greek institutions. These panhellenic gatherings were vital to Greek ethnicity. They were multinational, but only free, male Greeks could compete. At Olympia visitors and participants from Greek city-states throughout the Mediterranean shared a common culture in which religious piety and enthusiasm for sport were of pivotal importance. By the mid-sixth century Olympia had emerged as the pinnacle of a circuit of four great panhellenic sacred "crown" games with wreaths awarded to the victors. The others, at the sanctuaries of Delphi, Isthmia, and Nemea, were held sequentially, with at least one festival each year culminating in the finale at Olympia. Named after the winner in the men's sprint race, the Olympiads provided a common chronology at a time when each city-state had its own calendar.

    Athletics were only part of a religious festival at Olympia that honored Zeus with processions and sacrifices. One end of the original racecourse may have extended close to the Altar of Zeus, where athletes swore oaths on slices of boar's flesh that they would abide by the rules of the games. Athletes competed for the glory of Zeus, and the ancient Greeks felt that victors were divinely favored. The sole prize was a crown of olive leaves cut from Zeus' sacred grove. Over time the competitions became a larger part of the festival, with more events and expanded facilities, but the games never became fully secular.

    Excavations have taken place at Olympia for more than a century, but interpretations of the early history of the site have recently been revised. Archaeologists now suggest that major athletic events were not part of the earliest festivals at Olympia. Scholars have claimed variously that the original contests served as sacred rituals, funeral games, offerings to gods, initiations, or reenactments of myths. The second-century A.D. traveler Pausanias and others recount myths that Herakles founded the games to honor Zeus or that they were established by King Pelops after winning a chariot race against King Oinomaos of Pisa. Traditions also speak of a refounding or reorganization of the games during the Greek Dark Age (ca. the ninth century B.C.). The earliest literary account of athletic competition, Patroklos' funeral games in Homer's Iliad, reflects the athletic world of the eighth century or earlier. Homer mentions valuable prizes (bronze cauldrons and tripods; horses, cattle, and women; armor and iron) and contests (chariot racing, boxing, wrestling, running, armed combat, discus, archery, and javelin), but his poems contain no specific reference to games at Olympia. Although archaeologists have found evidence of funeral games in the Late Bronze Age (thirteenth and twelfth centuries B.C.) elsewhere in Greece (a funerary coffer from Boeotia with scenes of mourning and various contests; vases with scenes of boxers and chariot races), there is no evidence for them at Olympia.

    German archaeologists Alfred Mallwitz and Klaus Herrmann reject the idea of Mycenaean games associated with Pelops and argue that cult activities preceded athletics at Olympia. They note that there are earlier remains in the area but those suggesting a sanctuary (e.g. votives) are not older than the Geometric period (from about the tenth century to 750 B.C.), and that the Pelopeion, the shrine of Pelops at Olympia, is later than a stratum of black ash, animal bones, and votive figurines dated to about 700. Recent studies by Catherine Morgan, a Cambridge University archaeologist, and others suggest that the numerous metal figurines and tripods found at Olympia are dedications rather than prizes for athletic competitions. Morgan's study characterizes early Olympia (from the late tenth until the eighth century) as a rural shrine for a rustic cult of Zeus. According to Mallwitz, the oldest wells near the stadium date to the early seventh century. It would appear from the archaeological evidence that the first games, traditionally dated from 776, were humble and local, and that major athletic competitions did not emerge until ca. 700 or even 680, when the addition of equestrian contests allowed more conspicuous displays of the status and resources of competitors. Owning horses in poor and rocky Greece was a sign of great wealth, and Isocrates and Aristotle both wrote that "the breeding of racehorses is possible only for the very rich." Rivalries among emerging city-states contributed to increased participation and intensification of competition.

    For centuries the events and facilities at Olympia were spartan for both athletes and spectators. Sources such as Epictetus' Discourses mention the heat, the crowds, the makeshift accommodations, and the poor sanitation. In striking contrast to the grandeur of the temples of Zeus and Hera, the classical stadium was a simple running track outside the sacred precinct. Only judges and diplomatic representatives had permanent stone seats in a small area on the southern embankment. Spectators camped out nearby or came early, standing or sitting on the grassy embankments to watch the competitions.

    Held in late summer, the ancient Olympics had no winter events, no water or ball sports, and no oval tracks. There were no women's events, and adult women were barred from attending the games on pain of death. Age classes for men and boys (perhaps from 12 to 17 years old) developed, but there were no team sports and no second prizes. The games included various footraces (of about 200, 400, and at most 4,800 meters) and even a race in armor, but there was no ancient marathon. Olympia also had equestrian events, horse and chariot races for which the owners, not the drivers, were declared the victors. Owners did not even need to be present, and often hired drivers or jockeys, a circumstance allowing monarchs, tyrants, and even women to become Olympic victors. Alcibiades, the Athenian politician and general, entered seven chariots in the games of 416 B.C. We do not know if he personally drove any of them but he "won" first, second, and third or fourth place. Kyniska, daughter of a Spartan king, won the four-horse chariot race in 396 and 392 B.C. According to Suetonius, in A.D. 67 the Roman emperor Nero made a travesty of the games by competing personally in a ten-horse chariot race held for his benefit. Even though he fell from his chariot and did not finish the race, Nero was declared the victor. The Greeks later rejected those games and his victory as unofficial.

    There was a pentathlon--discus throw, javelin throw (using a throwing thong), long jump (using hand-held weights), footrace (probably 200 meters), and wrestling--but no decathlon. A debate on the system of choosing the winner in the ancient pentathlon has now gone on longer than the modern Olympics. There are theories about elaborate point systems, lots, byes, rematches, and comparative victories or relative placements, but most scholars favor some system of progressive elimination of competitors down to two opponents who wrestled each other in the final event.

    Wrestling, boxing, and the pankration, a combination of the two, were known as "heavy" events because, without weight classes or time limits, bigger athletes dominated. In these events byes were allotted if there was an odd number of entrants, and a competitor might have to face an opponent who had just sat out a round. In the pankration punching, kicking, choking, finger breaking, and blows to the genitals were allowed; only biting and eye gouging were prohibited. A recent study by Michael Poliakoff, a leading authority on ancient combat sports, has shown that pankratiasts could wear light boxing "gloves" made of strips of leather and designed, like all Greek boxing gloves, to protect the hands of the puncher, not the face of the opponent. The bronze boxer at the Terme Museum in Rome and a fragment of a relief on a tombstone at the Kerameikos Museum in Athens show scarred faces, broken noses, and cauliflower ears. Vase paintings of boxing matches show bloody noses. Satirical epigrams claim that boxers became so disfigured their dogs did not recognize them and they could not claim inheritances:

    When Odysseus returned safely to his home after 20 years, only his dog Argos recognized him when he saw him. But you, Stratophon, after you have boxed for four hours, neither dogs nor your fellow citizens can recognize. If you will be so kind as to view your face in a mirror, you will affirm with an oath, "I am not Stratophon." (Lucillius, Greek Anthology 11.77, trans. W.E. Sweet)

    O Augustus, this man Olympikos, as he now appears, used to have nose, chin, forehead, ears, and eyelids. But then he enrolled in the guild of boxers, with the result that he did not receive his share of his inheritance in a will. For in the lawsuit about the will his brother shows the judge a portrait of Olympikos, who was judged to be an imposter, bearing no resemblance to his own picture. (Lucillius, Greek Anthology 11.75, trans. W.E. Sweet)


    Wrestling matches were decided by falls, but boxing and pankration bouts continued until one athlete gave up or was incapacitated. Stories tell of deaths and even a posthumous victory: before he died in a stranglehold, the pankratiast Arrhichion is said to have dislocated his opponent's ankle, forcing him to give up. Athletes had legal immunity in cases of unintentional homicide, but the Olympic judges denied victory to one Kleomedes of Astypalaia, apparently for intentionally killing his opponent in boxing.

    Although the number of events at Olympia remained limited, local athletic festivals offered a vast array of competitions in male beauty, dancing in armor, chariot dismounting, torch racing, team events, and more. Epigraphic studies, such as the publication of new victor lists from the Panathenaic Games at Athens and numerous inscriptions recording contests in Hellenistic and Roman times from Alexandria to Aphrodisias, continue to reveal more about games beyond Olympia. The inscriptions reflect the proliferation of prizes, honors, and festivals throughout the Mediterranean. Some new games were modeled on Olympia, but Olympia and the other panhellenic games remained the most revered. Finally historians and inscriptions record gifts of money and buildings and the patronage of Olympia and athletes by such famous figures as Herod, king of Judaea, and Roman emperors including Hadrian.

    Historians debate whether "sport" as we know it is a modern phenomenon--the word has no classical equivalent--or a continuation of ancient traditions. Some see modern sport as distinctive in its secularism and its concern with quantification and records, but others see ancient and modern sport as part of a continuum, an enduring heritage. Whether sport is modern or timeless, great athletes have always understood effort and agony. On occasion the media undermine our sense of athletic awe by bringing us too close, showing anorexic beauties and anabolic beasts. Who were the athletes of Greece, and how different were they? How were they prepared and rewarded? What motivated them to risk shame and injury? How did they react to victory and sudden fame? How did they see themselves, and what was their place in society?

    Ancient competitors went to Olympia on their own initiative and at their own expense; they were not screened at home by athletic trials or officially supported by local committees. Access to state gymnasiums was usually open and free, but training required time, money, and instruction. Although there were a few state entries in chariot races, for centuries after the games began there is no certain evidence of state subsidies for athletes, so family resources were an important advantage. The first evidence for government subsidies is an inscription from Ephesos, dated to about 300 B.C., that records a trainer's request for funds for an athlete. Other inscriptions show both the continuing involvement of the urban elite, who sometimes referred to themselves as the "gymnasium class" and who received physical training as youths (epheboi) in young men's organizations, as well as the rise, from the first century B.C. on, of guilds of full-time vocational athletes (with membership certificates, officers, and pensions). Olympians had to swear that they had been in training for ten months, and for one month prior to the games they had to train at Elis, the city that hosted the festival and games at nearby Olympia. At Elis they were scrutinized, sometimes punished for fouls or disobedience, and possibly removed from competition if determined to be unworthy athletically by priestly judges equipped with unchallenged authority and whipping sticks.

    By roughly the sixth century athletes were specializing in particular events and hiring expert coaches to hone their skills. Training was intensive and there were experiments and fads concerning diet, exercise, and sex. Fads led some athletes to favor cheese, figs, or grain, others to distrust fish or pork. Possibly influenced by the sixth-century philosopher Pythagoras or the medical school at Kroton, athletes from Kroton in southern Italy believed in the value of a meat diet and saw the consumption of beans as taboo. Milo of Kroton, the greatest Olympic wrestler, reputedly ate 40 pounds of meat and bread at one sitting, washing it down with eight quarts of wine. In the Laws Plato notes that Ikkos of Tarentum, a victor in the Olympic pentathlon (perhaps in 444 B.C.), was said never to have touched a woman, or a boy, while in training. Weight lifting was not an event nor was it a major part of training, for which shadow boxing, punching bags, and even dancing were recommended. Flute music often accompanied training, and many festivals included contests for musicians, dancers, and heralds.

    The basic equipment of an athlete consisted only of an unguent jar (aryballos) of oil and a scraping instrument (strigil) for anointing and cleaning himself, though for various events a competitor might need other gear: a pick to soften the ground, boxing thongs, jumping weights, discus, or javelin. He had no shoes, no jockstrap, no uniform, and no endorsements. As Plato said in the Republic, classical Greeks, unlike barbarians, were not ashamed to appear in the nude. This custom may have been introduced in the eighth century, and by the sixth it was the norm. Ancient explanations for the nudity of competitors at Olympia (only chariot drivers were clothed) included safety or improved performance: speculative anecdotes recorded by Pausanias and Isidore suggest that one early runner dropped his loincloth intentionally and ran better without it, and that another was killed when his loincloth slipped down and tripped him. In contrast, modern theories of athletic nudity and even of the practice of infibulation (tying up the foreskin) favor cultic explanations: nudity was a costume, a state of ritual purity as in rites of passage; nudity and wreaths were remnants of hunters' rituals; or athletes were proclaiming their sexual abstinence. Only recently have we begun to admit that ancient athletics had an erotic dimension. Kalos inscriptions or love-names appear on many drinking vessels with athletic scenes, and the entrance tunnel to the stadium at Nemea bears a graffito in which one athlete applauds the beauty of Akrotatos, probably the Spartan prince and king from 265 to 252 B.C. Vase paintings show handsome young athletes pursued by mature men with gifts of hares and gaming cocks, and in literature wrestling was a metaphor for sex. Gymnasium hours were regulated and boys were carefully supervised, because, as Mark Golden, a scholar of Greek childhood, puts it, gymnasiums were "prime pick-up points."

    The historian Herodotus tells how the Persian king Xerxes, on hearing that Olympia awarded only wreath prizes, marveled that Greeks competed not for material reward but "only for honor." Then as now, however, Olympic victory brought more than its own rewards. Until the 1970s it was said that early Olympic athletes were idealistic, noble amateurs but that over time specialization, material rewards, and lower-class professionals corrupted athletics. Rejecting this scenario, revisionist scholars led by classicist David C. Young have concluded that the notion of amateurism in Greek sport is anachronistic, that the Greeks had neither the concept of nor a word for amateur athletics, and that ancient victors, whatever their background, accepted valuable prizes and benefits eagerly and with impunity. The prize wreath at Olympia was symbolic, but home cities rewarded Olympic victors substantially with cash bonuses, free meals, and more. In the sixth century Solon legislated rewards of 500 drachmas (more than $300,000) for Athenian Olympic victors. Athletes usually represented their native cities, but they could compete for another state. Astylos of Kroton, the first known free agent, won races at Olympia in 488 and 484 for Kroton, but then won races in 480 for Syracuse. States such as Athens, Kos, Macedon, and Syracuse realized that games were good publicity and good business, and they promoted their games and athletes through prizes, coins, and monuments. Beyond the "crown" games, there were many local games offering valuable material prizes and sometimes even appearance money for stars. Victory in the men's sprint at the Panathenaic Games brought a prize of 100 amphoras of olive oil (the equivalent of $67,000).

    Debate continues on the class origins and social status and mobility of athletes. Competitors from lower classes were not excluded but, even with the proliferation of material rewards, they were at a disadvantage concerning leisure time and finances for training and travel. Aristocrats certainly did compete, and later tales of rustics becoming early victors may be romantic fabrications. One epigram, attributed to the poet Simonides, speaks of a victor who used to be a fish porter, but Aristotle comments that the man's accomplishment was exceptional. Some famous athletes, such as Milo and the renowned pentathlete Phayllos, went on to be leaders in war and politics. Often, however, it is impossible to tell if an ancient athlete had status and resources before or because of his victory.

    We have no autobiographies or diaries that describe what went through the minds of ancient athletes. At best, commissioned victory odes, epigrams, and statues tell us how athletes wanted to be regarded. From whatever class and however mixed their motives, athletes embraced and espoused a traditional, aristocratic athletic value system with themes of piety, endurance (ponos), and humility (aidos). Although they accepted material prizes and rewards, ancient athletes referred to them as gifts (dora) not wages (misthos), matters of glory (kleos) not greedful gain (kerdos). Artistic scenes of victorious athletes being crowned usually depict them with downcast eyes and a modest posture. Ancient athletes, however, cheated earlier and more often than purists would like to believe. Even Homer mentions foul play and the dangers of excessive competitiveness in the games honoring Patroklos: While spectators wagered and bickered at the finish line, Antilochos nearly caused an accident in the chariot race by driving dangerously and refusing to yield; afterward he and Menelaos nearly came to blows in a dispute over placements and prizes.

    Although they swore a sacred oath to abide by the rules, ancient Olympians sought unfair advantages. False starting in a race brought whipping, as did infractions in combat sports. Inscriptions show that as early as the sixth century the judges at Olympia had established rules against cheating in wrestling. An inscription of the last quarter of the sixth century from Olympia declares: "The wrestler shall not break any finger...the judge shall punish by striking except on the head..." (trans. J. Ebert).

    By the fourth century, bronze statues of Zeus, known as Zanes and paid for from fines for lying, bribery, and cheating, lined the route to the Olympic stadium. Pausanias says the first six statues were established in the 98th Olympiad (388 B.C.) when the boxer Eupolos of Thessaly bribed his opponents. An inscription on the base of one of the first statues declares that "an Olympic victory is to be won not by money but by swiftness of foot or strength of body" (trans. S.G. Miller). Inscriptions on other bases similarly urge piety and warn against violations. In A.D. 93 an Alexandrian athlete who arrived late was expelled and fined for lying. He had claimed being delayed by weather when in fact he had been delayed by competing in prize games in Ionia. A fellow Alexandrian exposed his lie and was declared the victor without a fight. Lead curse tablets show that athletes even tried to hex rivals at Isthmia and elsewhere with pleas to underworld deities such as "let them not prevail in running."

    Greek athletes also knew stress and pressure. Competing individually, they nonetheless represented their families, communities, and city-states. Carrying the heavy burden of a great investment of effort and emotion onto the track, Olympians gave their all for god and country. Participation was not enough; winning was the only thing. Pindar (518-438 B.C.), the greatest poet of victory odes, says that athletic victory was the greatest height to which mortals can aspire; he also writes of defeated athletes slinking home by back streets.

    Victors were feasted and feted at Olympia by relatives and countrymen. Sometimes things got out of hand: Alcibiades, to his discredit, used sacred vessels for a party celebrating his chariot victory. Most ancient Olympians, however, probably would have said that their feelings could not be expressed in words, that their victories were neither won by themselves alone, nor for themselves alone, and that it was all worth it. As ancient Greeks they would have felt an obligation to thank the gods, and as victors they would have felt the urge to celebrate the moment and commemorate the achievement. Most athletes apparently followed traditional customs: a party followed by a dedication of the wreath or a votive to an appropriate deity. Among the many exciting finds at Nemea was a votive pit containing a pentathlete's equipment--an iron discus and javelin points, a lead jumping weight, and a strigil--and drinking cups from 550-525 B.C.

    More celebrations, songs, and commemorations awaited victors returning home. Sometimes a city would put up a statue of a local victor, and local veneration over time could reach the level of a hero cult. Theagenes of Thasos, who won the boxing (480 B.C.) and pankration (476 B.C.) at Olympia, claimed some 1,400 wins in his long career. After his death his city commissioned a statue of him that became the focus of a hero cult. Supposedly an enemy of Theagenes flogged the statue, whereupon it fell on him and killed him. When thrown into the sea, the statue brought famine to Thasos until it was restored. Major victories brought privileges, including free meals and seats of honor at civic gatherings for life. Years later one might still be known as "the athlete" or "the stadion-runner." Athletic fame sometimes even brought wartime clemency. During the Peloponnesian War Athens freed without ransom Doreius of Rhodes, a thrice victorious Olympic pankratiast. Alexander the Great, who supposedly disliked athletics, spared the home of Pindar while destroying Thebes in 335, and later freed the Theban Olympic victor Dionysiodoros captured after the Battle of Issus in 333 B.C.

    The Greek athlete's world was not without its critics. Protests against the inappropriateness of honors for athletes rather than intellectuals reverberated, with no effect. Aristophanes' Clouds laments the passage of the "good old days" of proper and proficient gymnastic education, and the writings of Euripides and Plato contain criticisms and caricatures of athletes as unnatural, overdeveloped, socially burdensome, and unsophisticated louts: "the worst of the thousand ills of Greece." However, the archaeological record--stadiums and gymnasiums, dedications, prizes, and artworks--shows that society at large, then as now, heralded games and athletes as cultural treasures. Even Plato admitted that the majority of Greeks deemed the life of Olympic victors "most happy," and, in his Myth of Er, Atalanta chooses the life of an athlete because of its great honors. Ancient Greeks would have agreed with the sentiment expressed in Homer's Odyssey that, "There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skills of his hands" (trans. S.G. Miller).

    Originally Posted: Archaeology

    Alexander, Piece by Piece

    In 2003, a team of artists from the International Center for the Study and Teaching of Mosaic (CISIM) in Ravenna, Italy, made an ambitious proposal to the archaeological superintendent of Pompeii: create an exact copy of the Alexander Mosaic and install it in its original home. More than two years, 16,000 hours of work, and $216,000 later, the most famous mosaic to survive from the ancient Roman world once again adorns Pompeii's House of the Faun.

    One of the iconic images of the great Macedonian leader, the mosaic depicts a confrontation between Alexander and the Persian king Darius in the fourth century B.C. Since 1843, the mosaic has hung on the wall of the National Archaeological Museum in Naples, safe from the feet of Pompeii's two million plus yearly visitors, as well as from the rain and sun that have damaged the whole site. So why bring Alexander back to Pompeii? The House of the Faun was once Pompeii's biggest and most impressive urban villa, filled with simple but elegant decorations designed to demonstrate the vast wealth of the house's owners. But today, although the sheer size of the house is still clear, the brightly colored paintings and mosaics, the gleaming marble and bronze statues, the fountains, and the hustle and bustle of a palatial villa are gone. Superintendent Pietro Giovanni Guzzo wants to change that. "I want visitors to have the impression that they are entering the same luxurious house in which the ancient Pompeian owners lived before it was destroyed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in A.D. 79."

    Originally posted: http://www.archaeology.org/0601/abstracts/mosaic.html

    Alexander's Isthmus, Tyre, Lebanon

    There is no shortage of stories about Alexander the Great's military accomplishments. One of them, his 332 B.C. conquering of the seemingly impenetrable Phoenician island fortress of Tyre, was revised a bit this year. History tells us that Alexander, after laying siege to the massive fort for seven months, made his final assault by having his engineers build a half-mile causeway connecting the island to the mainland--a stunning feat.

    But a study published in May posits that Alexander got assistance from a submerged sandbar, so he crossed water only a yard or two deep. Geoarchaeologist Nick Marriner, of France's National Center of Scientific Research, and his colleagues also theorize that the bridge or causeway that Alexander's army built altered coastal currents and the flow of sand, helping permanently join the island of Tyre with the mainland. It's always fascinating when archaeology and other forms of science can be applied to the historical record. In this case, geoarchaeology explains not only how Alexander made his assault, but also how he actually reshaped Lebanon's coastline.