Ghost on the Throne - James S. Romm [117]
Before Phocion could leave, an armed guard stepped forward and put him under arrest. The others in the oligarchic party made haste to flee, realizing their cause was lost at the Macedonian court. Polyperchon had committed to the democrats in order to isolate partisans of the rebel Cassander. Phocion, notwithstanding his honorable service, would be thrown to the wolves.
9. THE FALL OF PHOCION (ATHENS, SPRING 318 B.C.)
Phocion and four of his partisans were conveyed back to Athens by Cleitus the White, the Macedonian admiral who had defeated the Athenian fleet in the Hellenic War. They were placed on an open cart for exhibition to the mob and driven through the city to the Theater of Dionysus. There they were kept in seclusion until the Assembly could be summoned. The open-air theater was usually used for tragic dramas but sometimes also for political proceedings. The trial soon to take place there would have elements of both.
In wanton violation of the constitution, the Assembly was opened to all comers, citizens and aliens, men and women, free and slaves. The democratic regime did not want procedural niceties to thwart the will of the people. One brave citizen rose in protest and urged that foreigners and slaves be ushered out but was shouted down with cries of “Stone the oligarchs!” The proceeding was then begun by Cleitus, who read aloud a letter from Polyperchon. The regent proclaimed that in his view, Phocion and his party were traitors, but, in the spirit of the new Greek freedom, he would leave their fate to the Athenians. In other words, he washed his hands of the matter.
Phocion and the four members of his party were led into the theater. Some of Phocion’s admirers were moved to tears, covering their faces with their hands to hide their emotions from their neighbors.
Phocion attempted to speak but was shouted down by the mob. Whenever the hoots and catcalls grew fainter, he tried again to defend himself but each time was drowned out. At last he succeeded in shouting a question above the uproar: “Do you want to execute me justly or unjustly?” When a few answered “Justly!” Phocion replied, “How will you know which you do unless you hear me out?” But this only provoked more heckling. The poor and downtrodden of Athens had been disenfranchised for too long. They would exact every ounce of vengeance they felt was their due.
In a last effort to save others by sacrificing himself, Phocion shouted, to any who could hear, that he freely accepted the death sentence but that those in the dock with him were innocent. “Athenians, why will you put them to death?” he implored, to which the answer came: “Because they are your friends!” Phocion fell silent, and Hagnonides stepped onto the stage. He proposed a vote on the guilt or innocence of the accused, with death the automatic penalty if they were deemed guilty. Some in the crowd demanded torture on the rack, but Cleitus, the Macedonian overseer, signaled his disapproval. Hagnonides brushed aside the demand, vowing that torture would be reserved for a worse criminal than Phocion, a man known as Callimedon the Crab. A cynic called out that the rack would someday be brought for Hagnonides himself.
The proceeding now moved to a vote. For all their love of dissent and free speech, the Athenians used an unfree method of voting, the public raising of hands. Secret balloting was known to them and was widely used for polling juries, but political decisions were taken openly, and