Delphi has borne a tarnished reputation. Paul Foucart in the nineteenth century decried its occupants as a ‘peuple parasite, rapace, cruel et mendiant’, enriched on the back of superstitious credulity. At the start of the twentieth, Émile Bourguet denied Delphi the status of a polis and likened it to a village that exploited the nearby oracle. A generation later, Georges Daux, in a study of late Hellenistic Delphi, pronounced that ‘[l]’état delphien est une fiction’.[1] More recently, however, François Lefèvre has signalled the need for a work devoted to the city state.[2] Since Daux, the editions of the Corpus des inscriptions de Delphes, coupled with the collection of major inscriptions by Anne Jacquemin, Dominique Mulliez and Georges Rougement,[3] have made possible a study of the city, as distinct from the panhellenic sanctuary which overshadowed it.[4] Delphic institutions in the second century BCE have already received attention in the important study of Philippe Gauthier.[5] In line with Ephorus and Aristotle, who catalogued Delphi as a self-governing polis, this new study by Nicolas Kyriakidis sheds light on the political, constitutional, social, mythical, religious, and ideological framework of a city which, despite its international significance, until recently has been shrouded in obscurity.
Kyriakidis’ study falls into three main components. The first (‘Identité’) examines the mythical origins of Delphi, its civic calendar, and its self-awareness as a community. Kyriakidis does not try to reconcile the disparate strands but recognises the irreducible complexity of what he aptly terms in his first chapter ‘la matrice mythographique’. The first reference in literature (Iliad 2.517–24) characterises Delphi as a Phocian enclave, but, in counterpoint, the Homeric Hymn to Apollo preserves a tradition which stated that the earliest occupants of Parnassus were Cretan sailors to whom Apollo revealed himself in the shape of a dolphin and whom he then settled at Crisa. Pausanias (10.6.3) records Phocian ancestry through the heroes Hyamus and Cephisus, echoed in a commemorative inscription (CID 1 9 D lines 29–43) honouring the Labyades and Panopeus. Kyriakidis argues that the Homeric hymn represents a later stratum contemporaneous with the First Sacred War and comments that the terms ‘Delphi’ and ‘Pytho’ had different significances, the one ethnic, the other topographic (23).[6] Coins from the late sixth and early fifth centuries bearing images of dolphins and embossed with ΔΑΛΦΙΚΟΝ suggest that the Cretan tradition had established itself by the end of the Archaic period (26). The death of Neoptolemus, son of Achilles, at the hands of Apollo, which in some versions was comeuppance for the abomination of Priam’s massacre, bears resemblances to the demise of Aesop (27–34). Kyriakidis toys with the question whether these traditions are irreconcilable or different substrata of one overarching tradition (35–8). He infers that two components—autochthony and allochthony—were exploited by Delphi for different purposes, the one to assert rights over the land, the other rights over the shrine (42). He concludes (50–1) that the myths bear a propagandist resonance and serve to advance the position of Delphi. The first part ends with an overview of the Delphic calendar (54–5) and civic festivals (55–7).
Part II (‘Fonctionnement’) comprises two large chapters, the first of which elucidates the institutional components of the Delphic polis. Kyriakidis shows that the terms astos, politês and politeia were current at Delphi from the fourth century at the latest and that citizenship could be awarded as a benefaction to outsiders (65). Confronting older theories that the damiourgoi attested in Delphic inscriptions constituted an oligarchic elite, he endorses the view of Gauthier that in the second century, unlike the Roman period, the citizen body was undifferentiated in legal terms (69–72). Kyriakidis outlines rights possessed by citizens and resident aliens (72–4) and details the access to citizenship (74–5). He surveys the enigmatic Labyades, whose internal mechanisms resembled polis institutions (76–7), concluding that their role at Delphi was analogous to that of Attic or Delian phratries, and discusses other subdivisions of the citizen body (79–82). He proceeds with the Assembly, showing that its decisions had various denominations, for example psaphoi, tethmoi, nomoi, and ainoi, the last of which, explained differently in the past as either extrinsic, probouleutic, or less formal than a decree, Kyriakidis sees as legally binding. He details entrenchment, protection and application of popular decisions (96–9), access (100–101), participation (101–4), and agenda (104–14), and concludes that the Assembly was the final decision-making body. He shows that the Council (boula) drew up daily business and administered justice, although by the second century a narrower panel had begun to exert far-reaching powers (115–53). Turning to officials (153–82), he outlines functions of the archons, prytanies, treasurers, and more obscure offices such as mastroi, epidamiourgoi, sitônai, gymnasiarchoi, and orphanophylakes from the late Hellenistic period, and surveys roles of priests and other civic representatives (182–93). He asks if institutional structures of Delphi were regionally idiosyncratic or globally typical: comparing its Assembly to that of other Dorian cities, he shows that unlike Cycladic or Ionian cities, which modelled their institutions on Athens, the Delphic institutions were not imported, and Delphi did not belong to a koinê like Boeotia or the Troad (193). He concludes that though it is difficult to decide if Delphi in the fourth century was democratic or moderately oligarchic, epigraphic evidence nevertheless indicates a system that was broadly democratic (195). The third century is comparatively poorly attested, but in his analysis of the later Hellenistic period, when evidence picks up again, Kyriakidis takes Gauthier’s view that Delphi was institutionally democratic. By the close of the Hellenistic age, democracy at Delphi had been displaced, and by the Roman period, to be a citizen meant to hold personal rights, not to self-govern (196).
If the third chapter looked at Delphi from a purely institutionalist perspective, the fourth adds nuance to that approach with an extra-institutionalist one. Kyriakidis approaches the question of the political regime at Delphi in stages, starting with the prosopography of the prytaneis and bouleutai from the years 346–313, moving on to the social background of its participants, and, finally, examining its rapport with the social elite. Owing to limitations of evidence, he confines his analysis to two main periods, the second half of the fourth century and the middle of the second. Kyriakidis demonstrates that a large proportion of the civic population at Delphi in the fourth and third centuries undertook public responsibilities, but this began to attenuate as the Hellenistic period drew on, and by the second century, there seems to have developed a greater hereditary tenure on politics. Kyriakidis surveys wide-ranging evidence from the fourth century for archons (202–3), hieromnemones (203–5), presiding officers (prytaneis) (205–15), prohairetoi (215–17), councillors (bouleutai) (217–30), poletai tôn dekatôn (230), names from Elateia (231–2), and other figures from Delphic politics (232–38), and concludes that in this earlier period, a relatively wide number of citizens held public posts. Similar analysis is applied to the third century (238–43), less well attested, and the second (243–82). Kyriakidis (282) calculates that as the Hellenistic period progressed, public offices were held by a smaller circle, and whilst the institutional forms of democracy continued, in practice governance was exercised by a minority of families. This is clear from dedicatory monuments of the later period, which indicate the pre-eminence of a minority which sat at the top of the political pyramid. Kyriakidis concludes (339) that whereas down to the end of the third century, it is difficult to speak of a ‘political class’, from the second century onward politics at Delphi was increasingly dominated by a hereditary group of citizens. That said, he is careful to use the term ‘notabilité’, rather than ‘elite’, to describe those who fulfilled senior governing roles.
The third part (‘Accommodements’), surveys Delphi’s place in the wider Hellenic world. Chapter 5 devotes itself to relations between the political community and the Pythian oracle. The city took charge of the sacred funds and the ‘diplomacy of Apollo’, which included the announcement of the Pythian Games, which fell under the jurisdiction of the Amphictyonic Council. Until the second century, the city exercised considerable independence in management of temple funds and shared with the Amphictyony the oversight of the sanctuary, but, whereas the latter retained the right to intervene in decisions, the city wielded management of oracle.[7] Nevertheless, although bearing high responsibility, the city’s authority was counterbalanced by an external body, so that it could not enjoy the same level of control as could the communities at Locris or Delos. Though the Amphictyony exerted influence, it was never comparable to that wielded by Athens, for example, over the Delian shrine. Delphic officials occupied an honoured place on the Amphictyonic Council, which sat twice a year, and Delphi was the only city that had two votes. Between sessions of the Amphictyony, Delphi wielded effective administration over the temple complex. Kyriakidis argues that the best parallel in the ancient world was the little sanctuary of Apollo at Actium, the oversight of which was split between the city of Anactorium and the Acarnanian Confederacy. In the case of Delphi, there is little evidence that the division of authority found formulation in a written document. Kyriakidis (421) concludes that if the city placed a central role in running the shrine, the sanctuary stood at the heart of its civic life.
Chapter 6 examines relations with the wider world from the fifth century to the first. From its documented origins, the civic community at Delphi relied on the sanctuary as a prop to its international stature and prestige. At different periods, it had to deal with foreign powers such as the Phocians in the fourth century, or the long period of Aetolian influence in the Hellenistic age. Here, Kyriakidis distinguishes between those powers that exerted control through oppressive means and others which sought to exercise influence in a less intrusive and more diplomatic manner. The Phocian hegemony, for example, is notable for its bloody massacre of citizens, exiles, garrisons, imposition of tribute, and pillage. The Aetolian presence at Delphi later was more insidious than that exercised by Phocis, but what both powers sought was the transformation of Delphi into a federal sanctuary with a view to propping up their own political prestige. Other foreign imperial powers, such as the Macedonians, Spartans, and eventually the Romans, often intervened to shelter Delphi against its neighbours but did so through more diplomatic and less intrusive methods. In exchange, the Delphians received local autonomy, absence of a garrison, and freedom from tribute. Most importantly, the Delphians took advantage of the shrine’s symbolic importance which, though guarantees were never hard-and-fast, meant that any intruder who wanted to control Delphi had to respect the cultic dignity of Apollo’s sanctuary and therefore had to tread carefully before looting or infringing on the rights of a city which, in all periods, jealously guarded its prized autonomy and civic identity.
Kyriakidis has produced a study of great depth, research, insight, and originality. Rigorously evidence-based throughout, it is a milestone in the study of a city which, despite its symbolic pre-eminence, has eluded the modern world for so long. Among its attractions is its empirical methodology and reliance on inscribed texts. Another commendable feature is its willingness to bridge the traditional divide between institutionalist and non-institutionalist approaches to Greek history. As Kyriakidis argues, it is impossible to understand the dynamics of Delphian society without an appreciation of political institutions, social structure, relations with the sacred sanctuary and its neighbours, and self-awareness as an autonomous city and community, all of which strands he masterfully weaves together in a magisterial work. His book will prove indispensable for students and researchers of Greek politics, society, religion, diplomacy, and legal institutions.
Works referenced
Bourguet 1905. L’administration financière du sanctuaire pythique au IVe siècle avant J-C. Paris.
Bousquet, J. 1989. CID II. Les Comptes du quatrième et du troisième siècle. Athens.
Daux, G. 1936. Delphes au IIe et Ier siècle depuis l’abaissement de l’Étolie jusqu’aux bases de Gélon. Paris.
Foucart, P. 1865. Mémoire sur les ruines et l’histoire de Delphes. Paris.
Gauthier, P., 2011. ‘Les institutions politiques de Delphes au IIe siècle a. C.’, in D. Rousset (ed.), Études d’histoire et d’institutions grecques: Choix d’écrits. Geneva, pp. 375–417.
Jacquemin, A., Mulliez, D. and Rougement, G. 2012. Choix d’inscriptions de Delphes, traduites et commentées. Athens.
Lefèvre, F. 1998. L’Amphictionie pyléo-delphique: histoire et institutions. Athens.
Lefèvre, F. 2002. CID IV. Documents amphictyoniques. Athens.
Londey 2015. ‘Making up Delphic history—the first sacred war revisited’, Chiron 45: 221–38.
Mulliez, D. 2019. CID V. Les actes d’affranchissement, 1. Prêtrises I à IX (nos 1–722). Athens.
Mulliez, D. 2023. CID V. Les actes d’affranchissement, 2. Prêtrises I à XXXV (nos 723–1773).
Rougement, G. 1977. CID I. Lois sacrées et règlements religieux. Athens.
Sánchez, P. 2001. L’Amphictionie des Pyles et de Delphes: recherches sur son rôle historique, des origines au IIe siècle de notre ère. Stuttgart.
Notes
[1] Foucart 1865: 187–8; Bourguet 1905: 43; Daux 1936: 416.
[2] Lefèvre 2002: 6.
[3] Jacquemin, Mulliez, Rougement 2012.
[4] See Rougement 1977; Bousquet 1989; Lefèvre 2002; Mulliez 2019, 2023.
[5] Gauthier 2011.
[6] For doubts about the historicity of the First Sacred War, see Londey 2015.
[7] On the Amphictyony, see Lefèvre 1998 and Sánchez 2001.