A Companion to Ancient Greek Government (Beck/A Companion to Ancient Greek Government) || Tyche's Force: Lottery and Chance in Greek Government

CHAPTER 16

Tyche’s Force: Lottery and Chancein Greek Government

Elizabeth Kosmetatou

The selection of magistrates by lot is considered to be democratic, their election oligarchic.(Arist. Pol. 1294b7)

The combination of two selection procedures for public magistrates in Classical Athens,majority election and lot, certainly contributed to the notoriety of the world’s firstdemocracy among many of its contemporaries. In Antiquity, this was often perceivedas amounting to the elimination of rational politics. Democratic selection procedureswere extensively analyzed and criticized by a rich ancient tradition that opposed popularrule, while modern scholarship has often focused on the aggregation of dispersedknowledge (Ober 1998: 14–51; Ober 2008b).1 Indeed, any assessment of how well theAthenians measured up as citizens, especially as they faced the challenges of empire inthe fifth century BCE, becomes a discussion of the tests and perils of effective democraticcitizenship and of its dependence on civic knowledge. For ancient critics, including theso-called Old Oligarch (Ps.-Xen.), Athenian democracy virtually became the rule of theworst (poneroi) and of the poor (penetes), so blatantly the opposite of the good oldaristoi, who were previously involved in every aspect of civic life and of the politicalprocess (Ps.-Xen. Ath. Pol. 4).2 Even the less emotional Aristotle agreed on this point,defining democracy as the rule of the poor and oligarchy as the rule of the wealthy,while pronouncing both as deviant constitutions of polity and aristocracy respectively(Pol. 1279b39–1280a3). Several authors, including Herodotus and Thucydides, oftenrepresent the Athenian citizenry as a volatile crowd possessing little education anddauntingly low levels of factual knowledge about government and politics. To makematters worse, it was a commonplace that their lack of political sophistication madethem easily swayed by undeserving politicians who knew how to trigger the ripple effectof emotional contagion within their audience (cf. for example Thuc. 2.65.4, 8–10;3.36–40; 4.21–22, 27–29; Aristoph. Knights 864–867).3

A Companion to Ancient Greek Government, First Edition. Edited by Hans Beck.© 2013 John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. Published 2013 by John Wiley & Sons, Ltd.

236 Elizabeth Kosmetatou

Far from settling the question of what constitutes a good citizen in a democracy,Antiquity has bequeathed to us a debate on civic knowledge and responsibility that is asintricate as it is fascinating, yet still elusive in its definition (Hardin 2006; Borgida et al.2009; Delli Carpini 2009; cf. Frank 2008: 175). Besides presenting the material evidenceof extant allotment machines from the Greek world (see the appendix), this chapter willtake a fresh look at the origins of Greek lottery selection as an alternative, inclusive,and rational decision-making procedure. Rather than allowing the presumed ignorantmasses to destroy the city and impede the flourishing of the wealthy, knowledgeable,and experienced elite, selection by lot aimed at motivating the Athenian citizens intopolitical learning. In a democracy, lottery thus allowed the government of a polis tobe more inclusive and contributed greatly in the production of fairer outcomes for theentire citizen body. As part of the democratic process, then, lottery did not reinforce apresumed, and much-criticized, majority rule which often became synonymous with themajority rule of the poor and undeserving in the eyes of the Athenian elite (cf. Ober2005: 128–156; 2008a).4 Rather, it promoted civic education and collaboration amongthe competing Athenian social identities of the Archaic period, whilst also becominga unifying force that built a new, stronger, and group-centered Athenian identity. Atthe same time, its success led other Greek city-states to adopt this system as well. Last,but not least, rather than being a peculiarity that is partly to blame for the presumeddemise of the Athenian democracy following the adoption of ineffective, even disastrouspolicies in the late fifth century BCE, lottery has been proposed by modern theorists ofdemocracy as a valid and effective alternative to majority rule (Saunders 2008).5

Kleroteria: The Literary and Archaeological Evidence

In Athens, many officials were annually selected by lot, while hundreds, if not thousands,of jurors were further chosen every time the law courts were in session. Indeed, in apolitical system where democratic offices were selected by lot, allotment machines were afixture in the daily democratic process (Dow 1937, 1940; Kroll 1972; Boegehold 1995:32–34). In Aristotle’s time in particular ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 43.1), all offices in the regularadministration were selected by lot with the exception of the treasurer of the MilitaryFunds (tamias stratiotikon), the controllers of the Spectacle Fund (hoi epi to theorikon),and the superintendent of wells (epimeletes ton krenon). Epigraphical, literary, andarchaeological evidence from several areas of the entire Greek world, including Athens(cat. 1–14), Delos (cat. 16–19), Paros (cat. 20–21), Kamarina (cat. 15), Smyrna, andKyrene, whose dates span from the Classical through the Roman periods, allow us arelatively clear view of how the allotment machines, the kleroteria, worked, althoughmodern scholars still debate some particulars.6 Interestingly, many surviving examplespostdate the Greek democratic experiment so that the allotment of offices seems to havecontinued to be considered as a practical procedure in the day-to-day business of a Greekpolis at all times.

The most detailed description that we have of the allotment procedure is by Aristotle([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 64.2–3) and involves jury selections for dikastic courts. In histext, the philosopher provided a description of the Athenian kleroteria, which were

Tyche’s Force: Lottery and Chance in Greek Government 237

sometimes referred to as klerotrides (Schol. Aristoph. Wasps 674a.2, 752a.2) and inlater sources klerotikai archai (Suda s.v. kleroteria). Contrary to previously held belief,mainly by Hommel (1927) and maintained by LSJ (s.v.) to this day, the suffix ‘‘-terion’’etymologically denoted the instrument, rather than the room or hall where the allotmentprocess took place (Dow 1939: 1–8; Demont 2003: 27). This becomes evident inAristotle’s text:

The man drawn is called the ticket-inserter, and inserts the tickets from the box into thecolumns over which is the same letter as there is on the box. This man is selected by lot toprevent malpractice if the same man should always make the draw. There are five columnsof slots in each allotment machine. When the archon has put the cubes into the machines,he draws lots for each tribe according to the allotment machines. The cubes are bronze,some white, some black; he puts in as many white cubes as dikastai are needed, one per fivecolumns, and black cubes in the same proportion. When the archon takes out the cubes, theherald calls the men who have been selected; the ticket-inserter is included in the number.’’([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 64.2–3, trans. J.M. Moore)

In his classic 1939 article on the Athenian allotment machines, Sterling Dow examinedthe evidence of fourteen surviving, albeit fragmentary, Hellenistic kleroteria, ten of whichwere recovered during the agora excavations (cat. nos. 5–14). Challenging previouslyheld views that the kleroteria were urns for casting lots or votes, rather than actualmechanical devices, Dow identified them as marble stelai whose crown moldings weretrimmed to form aediculae, thus resembling temple-like structures or typically Atticgrave stelai. Contrary to our understanding of modern allotment, ancient kleroteria didnot have any capability for mixing votes and most certainly were not used for voting.Their front sides bore a number of slots that were arranged in one or more verticalcolumns of slots, which, according to Aristotle, were called kanonides, and the structureincluded a tube for drawing out lots one at a time (Dow 1937: 202; 1939: 4, 7, 29).Extant kleroteria from Athens preserve 1, 2, 5, possibly 6, 11, and possibly 12 columns(Dow 1939: 4; cat. nos. 1–14; cf. figures 16.1 and 16.3), while their surviving Delian(cat. nos. 18–19) and Parian (cat. nos. 20–21) counterparts had 5 and 8 respectively.Similarly, the number of slots of ancient kleroteria could differ significantly: an almostcomplete machine (cat. no. 1) had only 12, all arranged in a single column and probablyrepresenting the 12 tribes of Hellenistic Athens. Of the remaining surviving allotmentmachines, the better-preserved examples appear to have had up to 50 slots in eachcolumn (cf. cat. no. 6). Dow took note of the fragmentary state of the evidence andsuggested that kleroteria could very well have had as many as 60 or even 300 slots to acolumn (Dow 1939: 5).

Aristotle’s description ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 64.2), references from Aristophanes (Ekkl.681–683), the early fourth-century comic playwright Euboulos (Athen. 450b), as wellas the archaeological evidence (cat. nos. 3 and 4), have allowed for a reconstruction ofthe procedure followed for the sortition of dikasts from the ten Athenian tribes of theClassical period. To begin with, the kleroteria were movable objects that were set upoutdoors, most likely in the agora, for the process of allotment.7 In the case of jurorselection, the dikasts of each tribe were divided into ten sections, and each tribe had twokleroteria serving five sections each. An inserter (empektes) was selected from each section


Figure 16.1 Fragment of an allotment machine (kleroterion), probably used in the CouncilHouse. Agora Museum. American School of Classical Studies at Athens: Agora excavations.

Figure 16.2 Fragment of a pinakion, Athens, mid-fourth century BCE. Its thinness and unevenedges, from hammering, evidence earlier uses. The surviving text reads ‘‘Demophanes : Phili – ofKephisia.’’ American School of Classical Studies at Athens: Agora excavations.

of each tribe to operate his assigned allotment machine: he inserted the small bronzeor boxwood plaques (pinakia) with the names of other members of his section into theslots of one of the vertical columns (kanonides) that represented the specific section,probably from top down. A typical extant pinakion (figure 16.2) is about 1.18 cm long,2 cm wide, and 2 cm thick and is therefore of perfect size to fit the average slots ofextant kleroteria, which measure an average 3 cm wide, 6 cm high, and 2 cm deep (Dow1939: 7). Depending on the number of dikasts needed on a specific day, the archonwould pour black and white cubes (kyboi) down the tube, located on the left of thekleroterion.8 The first dice drawn by the archon would settle for the five pinakia in thefirst perfectly horizontal row of slots, the second for the second row, and so on. Thenames of jurors that were aligned with the white cubes would serve on that day, and theprocedure was refined enough to allow every section of dikasts within each group of fivethe exact number of jurors in court as every other section in that group, thus avoidingpacking courts (Dow 1939: 8).


A B Γ Δ E T H O I

Figure 16.3 Athens: allotment-machines for assigning jurors to lawcourts. From Dow (1939).Reprinted with permission of the Department of the Classics, Harvard University.

Further information furnished by Aristotle shows how much thought the Atheniansput into devising their intricate, logical, fair, well-controlled, and presumably fraud-proofallotment procedure ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 63.2). To ensure that the crowd of prospectivedikasts could witness the allotment unobstructed, each tribe had two kleroteria thatselected five sections of jurors each for a total of ten (cf. Dow 1937: 23–34, whoargues convincingly that two kleroteria, rather than one, were also cheaper to produceand lighter to carry). Once the process was complete, the selected dikasts entered thecourtroom in tribal formation through its ten entrances. As they did so, they woulddeposit their dikast tickets which bore their section number into one of the ten boxes,each marked by one of the ten letters from A to K that belonged to their tribe. In theory,then, the system was designed to keep inequalities to a minimum: the ten Atheniantribes were probably almost equal in size originally, and the system made every effortto keep all tribe sections, or 100 divisions, equal as well. Population fluctuations andcitizen freedom to participate in juries or not must have played a role in how equal thesesections remained, but the Athenians seem to have been convinced and pleased with thebalances of power as maintained by the allotment procedure (Dow 1939: 25–27).

Finally, it is noteworthy that juror tickets (pinakia), bearing the name, patronymic,and demotic of a dikast, appear to have functioned as an ‘‘identity card’’ of sorts thatsymbolized citizenship itself for the Athenians. According to Euboulos, dikasts broughtthem along for the allotment process, and rejected jurors received them back after the


selection was complete. In a fragment from his now lost comedy entitled ‘‘The Riddle’’(Problema) that was preserved by Athenaios (650b), the playwright even hints at theoccasional resentment felt by some of those that the lot did not favor:

There is an image which stands on top, its lower parts gaping,bored sharply clear through from head to foot;it gives birth to men at the tail, each one in his turn,and some of them obtain the right to live, while others must wander forth,each bearing his own fate in his own person, but calling out ‘‘Beware’’!

(trans. C. Burton Gulick)

Athenaios informs us that Euboulos’ text is a riddle and a reference to kleroteria whichhe compares to an agalma that gives birth to living children (i.e., the selected jurors),as well as to stillborn infants (i.e., those rejected). Not favored by the lot, the latterwander off like ghosts, uttering expressions of disgust at the missed opportunity tolive, or in this case, to serve in the government of their polis (Dow 1939: 11–12).This disappointment was probably due to more than having missed the opportunity forearning a juror’s compensation of 3 obols for his service. Rather, it also appears to bearevidence for the love that the Athenians bore for their democracy. Indeed, archaeologicalevidence suggests that the pinakia became lifelong prided possessions that symbolizedcitizen rights to such an extent that several Athenians chose to be buried with them(Dow 1939: 11).

The Lottery as Pioneer, Equalizer, and Guarantorfor Social Order and Political Stability

There is little doubt that lottery functioned as a system of checks and balances ingovernment that minimized the risk for malpractice and fraud while ensuring access tooffice for all citizens. In a polis in which most offices were assigned by lot and terms ofoffice were very short, there was little opportunity for electioneering or bribery (C. Taylor2007: 325–327). Nevertheless, human nature being what it is, there are several reportsof bribery of both elected officials and those that were selected by lot (Hypereid. Eux.1–2; Dem. 19.277; [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 27.5).9 Additionally, being selected to serve ondiplomatic missions in Athens also seemed to have its perks in the form of a significant perdiem compensation. For this reason members of these missions tried to extend their tripas much as possible and enjoy the luxuries of foreign hospitality, especially in legendaryPersia (Aristoph. Ach. 64–93).

Be that as it may, and the rise of populist rhetoric among ambitious candidates forelection to office notwithstanding, the phenomenon of patronage, which was ubiquitousin the Roman republic, was all but absent in democratic Athens. Millett (1989) hasattributed this Athenian success of warding off undue influence and electoral corruptionto the introduction of jury pay by Perikles in response to Kimon’s use of personal fundsin influencing elections in his favor (cf. [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 27.3–4; Theopomp. FGrH 115F89; Plut. Kim. 10.1–6; Rhodes 1986: 135–136; Zelnick-Abramowitz 2000; C. Taylor2007: 326). By introducing this highly popular and radical measure, Perikles appears


to have targeted any form of dependency by the majority of Athenian citizens on thecity’s elite, which virtually handed over to them control of state resources. Perikles’law had obvious benefits in promoting the cause of the complete democratization ofAthens, in that it promoted the participation of as many citizens as possible throughoffering financial incentives, besides giving them more freedoms and independence fromthose who historically had controlled state affairs. At the same time, however, Perikleswas a shrewd, ambitious, and at times even ruthless politician. One may argue that heestablished a patron–client relationship between the Athenian citizens and the polis’democratic institutions (C. Taylor 2007: 326), but there is little doubt that he personallybenefited politically from this as his popularity soared. The aftermath is well known:Perikles dominated Athenian politics almost absolutely, crushed his enemies, became‘‘the first citizen of Athens,’’ and put his mark on an entire era (Thuc. 2.65). Onemay wonder then whether jury pay and related citizenship financial incentives did notestablish a patron–client relationship between Perikles and the Athenians, and laterbetween the demagogue du jour and the citizenry.10

Apart from these considerations and reports on isolated incidents of bribery or fraud,the Athenian democracy seemed to be functioning smoothly; an opinion that was alsoshared by its citizens who did not complain about their institutions and procedures(cf. C. Taylor 2001a, 2001b). Indeed, any grievances associated with the political affairsof the day usually involved those accused of taking bribes in order to speak at theassembly, propose decrees, or offer questionable advice, but the integrity of the electionsthemselves never seemed to be in question. However, even bad advice that may have ledto bad policies was not overlooked, and those responsible had to be held accountable asa result.

The accountability of officials is universally regarded today as one of the majorstrengths of a democracy. Yet, in a twisted, shaky argument based on false premises, theOld Oligarch blames precisely this practice among the Athenians as being responsible forholding back some talented, presumably wealthy and aristocratic, citizens from holdingoffice and propping up the below average and very judgmental crowd (Ps.-Xen. Ath.Pol. 1.3). The truth is very different, and even though our evidence is fragmentary,there is an excellent sample that allows us to draw statistically significant conclusions.In her valuable article on the sociology of election and lot in Athens, Claire Taylor haspointed out that all citizens theoretically had access to offices, yet the wealthy elite weredisproportionately represented in many areas of public life. She furthermore calculatedthat of the 631 known elections, 61 percent were won by known liturgy payers (C. Taylor2007: 330). That candidates with significant financial resources and exposure due totheir activities could increase their chances for election to major offices that requiredexpertise and experience, like the strategoi, is not surprising. However, other factorsplayed a role in determining who held office. C. Taylor’s study of the geographicaldistribution of elected officials has shown that it was very different than the distributionof those selected by lot (2007: 330–336). It was already known that the strategoi,arguably the most influential Athenian officials, were initially chosen one from each ofthe ten Athenian tribes, a practice that lasted from 501/500 to around 441/440 BCE,when it was allowed for the first time for tribes to be doubly represented in the Board ofTen. Between 375/376 and around 329/328 BCE, tribal representation was abandoned,


and the strategoi were henceforth elected from the entire citizen body ([Arist.] Ath. Pol.61.1). While the reasons behind the introduction of double representation for certaintribes remain unclear, it seems that it eventually favored the election of strategoi fromdemes that were in closer proximity to the asty, at least in the fifth century (cf. AndrotionFGrH 324 F38).11 As a result, the demes closest to the city became instrumentalin bypassing the fairness of the tribal system of representation and consequently inestablishing an urban elite.

Taylor’s analysis of all known offices that were filled through the allotment procedure,and her case study of the elite office of the tamiai in particular, presents a consistentpicture. While the elected strategoi were not evenly distributed throughout Attika,the tamiai were drawn more evenly from demes of the entire territory. Moreover,in any given board the tamiai were not heavily weighted toward the city (C. Taylor2007: 335–336). In an attempt to explain her results, Taylor argues convincinglythat there was a certain balance of responsibility versus power in Athenian democracy.The tamiai were considered to have held more responsibility than power, so theiroffice-holders were rotated often, thus offering the opportunity for wider representationfrom all over Attika. On the other hand, the office of strategos held more powerand the possibility of running for successive terms, circumstances that all appealedto the politically ambitious urban elite. Similar patterns can be observed in otherelections and lot selections. Just like the strategoi, candidates for ostracism, who werepresumably also ambitious individuals, were distributed unequally throughout Attika.On the other hand, lot-selected dikasts were distributed as evenly as the tamiai, and thesame can be observed in the case of the grammateis or office secretaries to the boule(C. Taylor 2007: 337).

The use of lot as a means of randomizing the selection process in Athenian democracywas first observed by Isokrates (7.23) and prevented the establishment of an all-powerfulcity elite that would control all offices and make all decisions. Of course, importantoffices like that of the strategos were in essence monopolized by an elite, but the lack ofevidence for any related civic discontent suggests that it was neither intentional nor theresult of manipulation, and was most certainly never considered corrupt practice. Thewealth of the demes near the city, which were also much more densely populated thantheir rural counterparts, as well as their geographical proximity and easy access to thecivic center of Athens, most likely played a role in the disproportionate representation oftheir citizenry in elected offices.

On the other hand, the Athenian elite still boasted of its aristocratic origins andvalues which led its members to compete for elected office, a practice that Aristotleconsidered to be a relic of the Athenian past, hence his designation of elections asoligarchic (C. Taylor 2007: 338–339). In order to counteract the possible rise of apowerful ruling class – which had wreaked havoc on Athenian politics and society onprevious occasions – the creators of democracy used two methods. They retained the useof lottery, possibly initially introduced by Solon, which allowed everyone to participate ingovernment, ensured the even distribution of most offices throughout Attika, diversityamong the archons, and mitigated any threat of social violence as a result (Wallace2007c: 62).12 In the event that lottery was not entirely effective in curbing the ambitionsof certain members of the elite, ostracism provided the ultimate solution: besides being


ostensibly a tool for the whole citizen body to safeguard their democracy, in effectit also became a means to reinforce any divisions within the oligarchic elite and keepit in check.

The Lot as a Means of Civic Learning

In ancient Athens selection by lot aimed at minimizing the often-attested geographicalbias of elections and at reinforcing the participation in public life of all citizens from allwalks of life and from the entire territory of Attika. The practice was part of Atheniandemocratic checks and balances that settled the longstanding social and political upheavalsof the Archaic period which had almost brought the polis to its knees. In addition tothe obvious benefits outlined above, it also contributed to making the multitude’sso-called ignorant democracy, as several ancient authors would designate it, less ignorantand as politically well-informed as possible. This debate is still ongoing today, whenthe electorate of modern democracies is considered by some to be grossly politicallyignorant, a view that many voters share themselves. Yet, democracy is still the bestpossible and by far the fairest political system, and citizens still vote. It seems that even inour era of literacy and information overkill, there remain some astonishing illustrationsof the ignorance of the public, while even very knowledgeable and sophisticated votersface grievous difficulties holding their elected officials responsible for serving the interestsof the public. Similarly, elected officials have great difficulties representing a public thatis ignorant of policy or even their own interests (Hardin 2006: 179–180).13 In thisrespect, modern people do not differ all that much from the illiterate Athenian farmerwho approached Aristeides to ask for help with writing the politician’s own name on theday of his ostracism.

Citizen knowledge is important to the democratic polity because it enables the publicto participate in public life, learn the art of collaboration and compromise, and gainthe ability to connect policy views consistently to meaningful political evaluations (DelliCarpini 2009: 23). In 1822, James Madison voiced the same opinion remarking that‘‘a popular government without popular information or the means of acquiring it isbut a prologue to a farce or a tragedy, or perhaps both’’ (1900–1910: IX, 103–109).This need was even more acute in ancient Athens with its direct democracy, wherecitizens came from all over the territory of Attika to the civic center in order to makeimportant decisions, the quality of which depended on information which formedpublic opinion and thus civic participation that had become synonymous with thedemocratic process.

What did the average Athenian citizen then know, and how did Athenian democracyand its selection procedures assist in the acquisition of political knowledge that directlyaffected democratic practice? In our day, modern democracies are largely based onthe republican system of government which gives citizens few opportunities to expresstheir opinions at the polls. As a result, factual knowledge about political institutionsand processes, substantive policies, socioeconomic conditions, and political actors (bothelected officials and party cronies) is relatively low (cf. Delli Carpini 2009: 23–24, wheremore bibliography and statistics are cited).


This would not be the case for the Athenians, however. Widespread participationin public life, including serving in juries and a variety of other offices as determinedby lot, the Athenians would gain firsthand experience with the democratic institutionsand processes. Freedom of expression would allow them to become closely involvedin current affairs and influence them directly. Being selected by lot for public servicewould provide them with specialized knowledge about a specific area of city politics,and modern studies in political science suggest that expertly informed citizens tend tobe informed about multiple areas. They also tend to be more accepting of democraticnorms. Mass participation in the day-to-day ancient democratic process therefore createda diverse, well-informed, and politically sophisticated citizen body that held intenseopinions, to be sure, but at the same time comprised a cohesive community. Andlottery was a tour de force in bringing about internal order in Athens and motivating theAthenians to embrace their civic duties.

Lottery as a Psychological Incentivefor Citizen Cooperation

Unlike majority voting which favors a portion of the voter population only, politicalscientists have suggested that lottery voting treats all voters fairly by offering everyonethe opportunity, at least theoretically, to make the decision for everyone on a specificissue (Saunders 2008). To be sure, majority voting encourages convergence on middleground, but at the same time it also allows the formation of groups or parties which,depending on their power and popularity, might lead to the creation of perennial winnersand losers. In this respect, a segment of the citizen body, be it due to ideology or anyother reason, may always get its way, while the other has to succumb to the will of themajority. We therefore cannot be sure that majority rule produces better outcomes orreflects more accurately the will of the citizenry as a whole.

On the other hand, lottery selection may sometimes be a better and more rationalprocedure that realizes political equality. Prior to reaching a decision or appointing arandom decision-maker, the process gives the entire citizen body reasons to participatein deliberation in an attempt to persuade as many as possible to vote in a specific way and,naturally, to act responsibly if given the chance. Compromise is thus reached throughthe fear that, if an unpopular political decision is implemented as a result of lotteryvoting, the unity and peace of a community will be disrupted, and further irresponsibledecisions by lot may therefore follow as a reaction of disgruntled citizens. As part of thedemocratic process then, the lottery can gently force collaboration.

The use of lottery by the Athenians, as part of their democratic experiment, provedto be a success and benefited the polis in many ways. The Athenians strove for centuriesfor social and political order as well as political equality, and discovered democracy inthe process as the latter’s natural outcome. While recognizing elections and majorityrule as important components of their democratic decision-making process, they alsorealized that, due to geographic, political, and socioeconomic factors, majorities werenot always representative of the entire citizen body, and elections could produce unequalresults. By using lottery selection more extensively than in previous centuries, for the


appointment of officials and jurors, the Athenians gave both incentives and opportunitiesto every citizen to participate in public life and to enhance their civic learning. At thesame time, they minimized the risks of excluding certain groups from politics and ofallowing the development of powerful elites, especially of those that were associated withthe demes in close proximity to the city.

Rather than creating an irrational political system that gave power to the poor andundeserving ignoramuses, as the ancient opponents of democracy would describe them,lottery was a sophisticated and inclusive system of checks and balances that safeguardedthe exercise of power in the decision-making process. In considering the way Atheniandemocracy worked for 150 years or so, one must marvel at how well it functionedand served the purpose for which it was created: the best possible imperfect systemfor imperfect humans. To its ancient critics, the modern historian might respond withWinston Churchill’s famous verdict: ‘‘It has been said that democracy is the worst formof government, except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.’’

Appendix 16.A Catalogue of Extant kleroteriaand Related Material

This is a catalogue of all archaeological evidence on, mostly Hellenistic, allotmentmachines that is known to the author. The material presented is associated with Athens(cat. 1–14), Delos (cat. 16–19), and Paros (cat. 20–21). In addition, a large numberof lead tablets bearing citizens’ names were discovered in Kamarina. They date to thefifth century BCE and suggest the use of allotment machines similar to the Athenianones (cat. no. 15). Epigraphic evidence suggests that kleroteria were also used in Smyrnain 243 BCE (Syll.3: 229) and Kyrene in 7/6 BCE (Oliverio 1927: 20). A publicationby Jack Kroll of the archaeological evidence on extant kleroteria in the Greek world isforthcoming. Klaus Scherberich of the University of Aachen reconstructed two kleroteriamachines with his students and tested them by making selections out of a pool of 150people. The results of his study are also forthcoming.

1 Location: AthensMaterial: Hymettian marbleDimensions: h. 49 cm; w. 32 cm; th. 15.7 cm. Slots: 1. 2 cm; w. 2 cm; h. 0.6 cm.Description: An almost complete, simple kleroterion with a single column of 12 slotswhich were clearly made in order to accommodate small objects, most likely metal tabletswith the inscribed names of the 12 tribes of Hellenistic Athens, which were probablyfastened in, removed, and replaced in a different order. According to the survivinginscription, this machine, which served as a notice-board, was constructed during thearchonship of Poseidonios (162 BCE).Date: 162/161 BCE

Bibliography: IG II2: 2864a; Dow 1937: 198–202.

2 Location: Athens, AkropolisMaterial: Pentelic marble


Description: Fragment of a kleroterion for jury selection, having two rows of at least eightslots which can be restored to as many as 10 but not more than 15.Date: Mid-second century BCE

Bibliography: IG II2: 2864; Dow 1937: 203–204.

3 Location: Athens, Roman agoraMaterial: Pentelic marbleDimensions: h. 25 cm; w. 46 cm; th. 15 cm.Description: Fragment of a kleroterion for jury selection, which originally had fivecolumns, of which four only remain. There were at least four rows of slots.Date: Mid-second century BCE

Bibliography: IG II2: 2864c; Dow 1937: 204–205.

4 Location: AthensMaterial: Pentelic marbleDimensions: Almost identical dimensions to cat. no. 3. Slots were spaced vertically at2.3 cm on centers.Description: Two fragments of a kleroterion for jury selection, similar and contemporaryto cat. no. 3. Originally it had five columns with a minimum of 20 slots in each or atleast 100 in all.Date: Mid-second century BCE

Bibliography: IG II2: 2864b; Dow 1937: 205.

5 Location: Athens, agoraMaterial: Pentelic marbleInv: Agora I 3965Dimensions: h. 17 cm; w. 8 cm; th. 10 cmDescription: Fragment of a particularly well-constructed kleroterion, very similar to cat.nos. 3 and 4, and whose slots were unusually long, at least 3.5 cm, and carefully cutto slope slightly downward into the stone. We may restore c.100 slots arranged in fivecolumns.Date: Hellenistic periodBibliography: Dow 1937: 205–206.

6 Location: Athens, agoraMaterial: Pentelic marbleInv: Agora I 2539Dimensions: Slots were spaced vertically 0.3 cm on centers, while the columns werehorizontally spaced at 2.5 cm.Description: Fragments of a kleroterion with six restored columns of 50 slots each for atotal of 300 slots. The kleroterion occupied the reverse of a stele which preserves twodecrees.Date: Hellenistic (159/158 or 158/157 BCE, terminus ante quem)Bibliography: Dow 1937: 142–146, 206–207.


7 Location: AthensMaterial: Hymettian marbleDimensions: h. 52 cm; w. 0.13 m.Description: Possible fragment of a kleroterion, similar to but smaller than cat. no. 6,which also preserved part of a decree on its reverse.Date: Hellenistic periodBibliography: IG II2: 972; Dow 1937: 146–147, 207.

8 Location: Athens, agoraMaterial: Pentelic marbleInv: Agora I 3966Dimensions: h. 19 cm; w. 11 cm; th. 11.9 cmDescription: Fragment of a kleroterion. Only traces of one column with at least threeslots are preserved, but its original size, according to Dow, was moderate and may havehad as many as 300 slots.Date: Hellenistic periodBibliography: Dow 1937: 207.

9 Location: Athens, agoraMaterial: Hymettian or greyish Pentelic marbleInv: Agora I 3272Dimensions: h. 19 cm; w. 13 cm; th. 8 cmDescription: Fragment of a very large kleroterion which originally had as many as 600 slots.The surviving fragment preserves traces of 21 slots spaced at 2 cm on centers, while thecolumns were spaced at 2.8 cm from each other.Date: Hellenistic periodBibliography: Dow 1937: 207.

10 Location: Athens, agoraMaterial: Pentelic marbleInv: Agora I 3967Dimensions: h. 59 cm; w. 72.5 to 74 cm; th. 8.3 cmDescription: Large fragment of a kleroterion. Nearly all of its 11 columns are preserved,each of which had at least 19, most likely 50 slots. This kleroterion was originally set ona base. For a photo image, see Figure 16.1 and the front cover of this volume.Date: Mid-fourth century BCE

Bibliography: Dow 1937: 208.

11 Location: Athens, agoraMaterial: Pentelic marbleInv: Agora I 3968Dimensions: h. 30 cm; w. 14.9 cm; th. ca. 16 cm.Description: The largest of the preserved kleroteria, it may have originally had a total of1,000 slots.


Date: Hellenistic periodBibliography: Dow 1937: 209.

12–14 Location: Athens, agoraMaterial: MarbleDescription: Fragments of three kleroteria discovered between 1937 and 1939Date: HellenisticBibliography: Unpublished. Reference in Dow 1939: 2.

15 Location: Kamarina, Temple of Athena deposit of lead tablets with inscribed citizens’names, possibly associated with a kleroterion that did not survive.Material: marble (?)Description: 158 standardized lead tablets with inscriptions of a citizen’s name andpatronymic on the one side and a numbered phratry to which he was assigned onthe other. No allotment machine has been discovered in the city yet, but the tokens’similarities to Athenian examples may suggest that they were used with kleroteria,perhaps in connection with the allotment of land to the Gelan settlers who refoundedKamarina in 461/0 BCE.Date: Fifth century BCE

Bibliography: Cordano 1992; Manganaro 1995; Murray 1997; Robinson 2002.

16 Location: DelosMaterial: White fine-grained marble, possibly ParianInv: A 7999Dimensions: l. of base 38.9 cm; l. of top: 37.9 cm; preserved h. 25 cm; d. 10.1 cm; l. ofslots from 1.9 to 2.5 cm.; h. 0.4 cm; d. 1.1–2 cm. Vertical space between slots: c.1.6cm; average space between cols: 3 cm.Description: Fragmentary front of a kleroterion, probably used for the allotment of jurors.Five columns are preserved which had at least 10 slots each.Date: Delian independence (314–166 BCE)Bibliography: Moretti 2001.

17 Location: DelosMaterial: White marbleInv: A 8364Dimensions: l. of base 41.7 cm; l. of top: 41 cm; preserved h. 21.5 cm; d. 10.9 cm; l.of slots 1.8–2.3 cm.; h. 0.4 cm; d. 1.4–2.2 cm. Vertical space between slots: c.1.7 cm;average space between cols: 3.2 cm.Description: Fragmentary front of a kleroterion, probably used for the allotment of jurors.Five columns are preserved which had at least nine slots each.Date: Delian independence (314–166 BCE)Bibliography: Moretti 2001.

18 Location: DelosMaterial: Grayish white marble


Inv: A 8365Dimensions: l. 17.8 cm; preserved h. 26 cm; w. 10.5 cm; l. of slots: c.2 cm.; h. 0.4 cm;d. 1.1.4 cm. Vertical space between slots: c.1.7 cm; average space between cols: 3.4 cm.Description: Fragmentary front of a kleroterion, probably used for the allotment of jurors.Two columns are preserved which had at least eight slots each.Date: Delian independence (314–166 BCE)Bibliography: Moretti 2001.

19 Location: DelosMaterial: Grayish white marbleInv: A 7998Dimensions: l. 21.5 cm; preserved h. 25.8 cm; w. 10.5 cm; l. of slots: 2.1 cm; h. 0.4 cm.Vertical space between slots: c.1.8 cm; average space between cols: 3.6 cm.Description: Fragmentary front of a kleroterion, probably used for the allotment of jurors.Two columns are preserved which had at least six slots each.Date: Delian independence (314–166 BCE)Bibliography: Moretti 2001.

20 Location: Paros, Parikia. In secondary use, built into one of the windows of thechurch Panagia Septembriani.Material: Parian marbleInv: S 176Dimensions: Fragment h. 88.2 cm. Restored h. of machine 1.10 or 1.20 m. Restored w.at least 0.55 cm. Each slot is 2.2 cm wide, 2.1 cm deep, and 0.4 high. The vertical spacebetween the slots is 2.1 cm, horizontal space is 2.4 cm. The distance of the first row ofslots from the top is 0.4 cm.Description: Lower part of the left pilaster of a kleroterion and of the interior of theNaiskos structure. Three columns of 35 slots are preserved. There were at least eightcolumns in total.Date: Second century BCE

Bibliography: K. Muller 1998.

21 Location: Paros, Paroikia. In secondary use, built into one of the windows of thechurch Panagia Septembriani.Material: Parian marbleInv: S 177Dimensions: Fragment h. 88.2 cm. Restored h. of machine 1.10 or 1.20 m. Restored w.at least 0.55 cm. Each slot is 2.2 cm wide, 2.1 cm deep, and 0.4 high. The vertical spacebetween the slots is 2.1 cm, horizontal space is 2.4 cm. The distance of the first row ofslots from the top is 1.2 cm.Description: Lower part of the right pilaster of a kleroterion and of the interior of theNaiskos structure. Two complete and one partial column of 35 slots are preserved. Therewere at least eight columns in total.Date: Second century BCE

Bibliography: K. Muller 1998.


NOTES

1 Modern political scientists look to ancient Athens for their discussion of democratic theory,but some seem to be under the impression that there was little discourse on politics andpolitical systems in antiquity, and it is of a different kind than there is today. Cf. most recentlyFrank 2006. It is hoped that further cooperation between ancient historians and politicalscientists will clear away this misconception.

2 A similar sentiment may also be echoed in fragments from the lost work of Demokritos.In them, the philosopher seems to defend a moderate form of democracy as preferable totyranny and emphasize the importance of free speech (B 251 and 226), but on the other handseems to express oligarchic views elsewhere (B 254 and 267). In his view, the assumption ofofficial positions in government by hoi kakoi, presumably as a result of their selection by lot,may lead to political disaster. Cf. C.C.W. Taylor (2000: 127–129).

3 Cf. for example Thucydides 2.65.4, 8–10; 3.36–40; 4.21–22, 27–29. Cf. also [Arist.] Ath.Pol. 28.1, 3. Although Thucydides would disagree, Perikles’s de facto manipulation of hisAthenian audience from the one end of the spectrum of emotions to the other, is expressedin emotional language in the speeches that the historian preserves, e.g., at 2.65.8–9. On theother hand, the demagogue Kleon is described as ‘‘most violent citizen,’’ inspiring violentemotions in his audience and manipulating his fellow citizens into destructive behaviors. Onthe effect of emotional contagion within a group context see Hatfield et al. (1993: 7–11)and, more recently Jerit et al. (2009: 100–124).

4 On the intricacies of Athenian electoral procedures, candidate nomination, and the range offactors that affected the outcomes see Staveley (1972: 102); Pierart (1974: 128–130); Rhodes(1981: 129–132); Stanton and Bicknell (1987); Hansen (1989a); Hansen (1999: 233–235);Mitchell (2000: 347–356); C. Taylor (2007: 324–325). There is little to no evidence at allabout electioneering, bribe, or indeed any irregularities associated with Athenian elections.Cf. C. Taylor (2007: 324–327) which includes a valuable comparison of patronage andpolitics in Athens and the Roman republic.

5 Many ancient and modern authors have mistakenly believed that the end of democracy inancient Greece coincided with the Athenian defeat in the Peloponnesian war, overlookingthe fact that, as a political system, democracy continued to flourish in Greece in thefourth century BCE. Furthermore, democratic procedures were maintained in the day-to-daybusiness of local governments of cities after Alexander the Great and in the Roman period, asis evidenced in the existence of local councils.

6 On the Athenian evidence (cat. 1–14) see Dow (1939); Bishop (1970); Boegehold (1995:58–76). Kamarina (cat. 15): Cordano (1992); Manganaro (1995); Murray (1997). Paros(cat. 20–21): K. Muller (1998). Delos (cat. 16–19): Moretti (2001).

7 Cat. no. 10 was most likely permanently set up on a base judging from both its size andpreserved tongue. Cf. Dow (1937: 208).

8 While cubes were used in Athenian kleroteria, epigraphical evidence from Kyrene suggeststhat allotment machines of the Roman period used balls (sphairai). Cf. Oliverio 1927: 20.

9 Bribery can obviously take many forms, so it certainly played a role, very openly too, if we areto believe ancient reports on the manner in which Hypereides managed to get the courtesanPhryne acquitted, by tearing off her clothes in front of the dikasts during her trial for impiety(cf. Athen. 590d–e; Cooper 1995). For an excellent discussion of corruption in associationwith ostracism, see C. Taylor (2007: 327–329).

10 Echoes of Perikles’ populism are found in his final speech as reported by Thucydides(2.60-64), in which his electoral base is virtually designated as his partners in crime in


appropriating other people’s money. Jones has also argued that political patronage survivedin rural Attika (cf. N.F. Jones 2004: 59–88), but contrast C. Taylor (2007: 326–327).

11 On the debate on double representation, see Dover (1960); Fornara (1971: 22–27); Mitchell(2000: 352–355). See also C. Taylor (2007: 331–332), especially the map she provides(fig. 1) showing the demes in the city area from where many strategoi of the fifth century BCEwere elected.

12 Even though allotment was a procedure that was traditionally associated with democracy, inSolon’s time it did not function as the symbol that it later became.

13 Hardin 2006 gives some interesting examples of ignorance of politics among the US publicthat are backed by statistical information.

Documents

A Companion to Ancient Greek Government (Beck/A Companion to Ancient Greek Government) || Tyche's Force: Lottery and Chance in Greek Government