Men of Bronze: Hoplite Warfare in Ancient Greece (14 page)

In the same 1977
Journal of Hellenic Studies
volume, John Salmon, a “gradualist,” accepts the thesis that the phalanx came into existence after the piecemeal adoption of the hoplite panoply.
¹⁷¹
But he argues that as soon as the aristocrats adopted massed tactics, which he dates to 675 using vase painting, new fighters joined them on the battlefield. Salmon agrees with Snodgrass, moreover, that the representations of warfare in paintings in the period 700–650 may provide “the documentary evidence of a transitional stage in the development of Greek warfare.”
¹⁷²
This is for three main reasons: (1) unlike later hoplite practice many warriors are shown carrying two spears; (2) they sometimes use swords as primary weapons; and (3) they often are equipped with less than the full panoply. Salmon does not thus conclude, however, that massed tactics were unknown in the early form of phalanx warfare. “[The] phalanx has two essential features: its cohesion and its relatively large size; both can be achieved without following the later canonical pattern closely.”
¹⁷³
He notes that even when the phalanx existed, after 650, paintings still show hoplites carrying two spears: presumably a
shorter spear to throw before the opposing forces met in hand-to-hand combat, and a longer spear for thrusting at close quarters. Therefore, Salmon suggests a second transitional stage after the invention of the phalanx, in which “the new style of fighting saw the gradual development, through experiment with throwing spears, swords and various items of body armour, of the canonical version.”
¹⁷⁴
He dates the beginning of this second transitional stage to no later than 655, the time of the Macmillan vase, but probably at least as early as the flutist on the Perachora aryballos of circa 675. In either case, the hoplites might have had a role in the revolutions of Cypselus, Orthagoras, and Theagenes.

Salmon compares the Roman tradition that Servius Tullius organized the centuriate assembly at the same time as he reformed the military. He notes that the political situation in Greece was far different from the one in Rome in view of the background of political unrest, which renders the analogy false.

Comparatively wealthy men with a grievance were given, for the first time, major military importance; it would hardly be surprising if they used their new strength to set their grievance right—or if ambitious men like Cypselus took advantage of this new pressure group to achieve their own ends. There are no reasons in principle to deny that the invention of hoplite tactics had an effect on political development solely because of the analogy with what may have happened in Etruria and in Rome.
¹⁷⁵

Salmon agrees that economic grounds restricted a place in the phalanx to a relatively small class, resulting in a seventh-century phalanx of hundreds compared to that of thousands in the fifth century. The unpleasant character of hoplite warfare also might have made many wealthy landowning farmers reluctant to serve, as Snodgrass suggests; but Salmon does not see this standing in the way of revolution. “Wealthy men have never been slow to press what they see as their interests, and that has often made them support revolution, from the non-Eupatrid wealthy who supported Solon through the great plebeian families of Rome who fought the struggle of the orders.” Citizens in the more advanced Greek poleis were growing discontent with aristocratic methods of government in the mid-seventh century. At the same time aristocrats were losing their monopoly on fighting skills with the development of phalanx tactics. “In such a situation it was the wealthy who were
most
likely to attack the
status quo
; they were doubtless contented enough with their economic position, but they felt a stark contrast between that and their social and political poverty.
¹⁷⁶
For the less well off there was no such contrast, and therefore no impulsion to political change.”
¹⁷⁷

Salmon finds the adoption of the new style of fighting to be the most powerful explanation for the many political revolutions that took place in mid-seventh century Greece. However, he does not attribute them to the development of a self-conscious hoplite class. The hoplites gave positive support to tyrants in not rescuing the aristocratic regimes under attack; but more wide-ranging claims of hoplites demanding political power commensurate with their new military status seem to him unlikely. The length of time to develop such feelings is perhaps longer than the gap between the adoption of the phalanx and its political consequences allows. The complaints
against exclusive rule of aristocrats and their failure to provide
dike
would not depend on hoplite status.

Second, if hoplite demands were for greater political power, these demands were rarely met. At Corinth, Sicyon, and Megara control passed from traditional aristocracies to tyrants, and in Argos there is no evidence the hoplites were conscious instruments of change. “It is not easy to believe that one generation of Corinthian hoplites raised Cypselus to the tyranny in order to gain influence for themselves through him only for a succeeding generation to acquiesce in its effective exclusion from political power.”
¹⁷⁸
In the case of Sparta, Salmon finds it incredible that a politically inexperienced group such as the hoplites could demand the positive political rights formulated in the
rhetra
. “Hoplites were probably incapable of formulating even a coherent statement of their grievances; but they were sufficiently discontented for an aristocratic faction to attempt to turn their discontent to its own advantage.”
¹⁷⁹
On the model of Pheidon’s success at Argos, Salmon posits that the two Spartan kings attempted to enhance their power by gathering hoplite support in political life. Thus the
rhetra
enshrines royal power in the
gerousia
to help preserve their declining power. In sum, special circumstances in Greece beyond simple participation as a hoplite contributed to political change, whereas those other factors were not significant in places such as Etruria. “We cannot look to the hoplite reform for a simple explanation of the political upheavals of the mid-seventh century, for the essential causes will have been different in each case.” The role of the hoplite was far more modest. “The hoplite reform played an important part; it supplied the weapon for change, but not the will for it.”
¹⁸⁰

The gradualist position not only calls into question the political role of hoplites in the seventh century; in the last few decades scholars have mounted vigorous challenges to the orthodoxy on the topic of tactics. Hans van Wees, for example, has argued for a much-reduced role for the mass formation of the phalanx as an instrument of change. “I believe that the process of change was not only less rapid than that envisaged by e.g. P. A. Cartledge, but also longer drawn-out than the piecemeal development suggested by Snodgrass. By implication, I do not believe that the introduction of the double-grip shield greatly accelerated the growth of the phalanx-formation.”
¹⁸¹
In his 1994 article, he states that Krentz’s 1985 piece in
Classical Antiquity
and Cawkwell’s paper in
Classical Quarterly
1989 “appear to me worthy of more positive attention than they have received thus far.”
¹⁸²

Krentz developed the idea that the change to hoplite tactics was gradual and did not bring about a hoplite revolution in archaic Greece. He argues against the view that in a hoplite battle the two sides met in tight formation with each of its soldiers stationed about three feet apart and (usually) eight rows deep with the objective of literally pushing through and breaking up the opposing line.
¹⁸³
Instead he contends that “the essence of a hoplite battle remained [throughout its history] the hand-to-hand fighting of individual hoplites in the front rank, one-on-one, two-on-one, three-on-two, etc.”
¹⁸⁴
Two of the main points of the orthodoxy with which he takes issue are the spacing between the troops in the phalanx and maneuverability of the two-handled hoplite shield.

Regarding the distance between hoplites in formation, Krentz disregards Polybius’ statements about the width between Macedonian phalangites as inapplicable to hoplites; he doubts that Thucydides refers to a distance as tight as three feet per man. For instance, he takes
sunklesis
in one passage of Thucydides to mean “a gap large enough to hold 2/7 of the Spartan army.” “He might have thought three feet per man impossible, too cramped for hand-to-hand fighting. Such fighting requires room to fake, to dodge, to sidestep, to wrong-foot the opponent by stepping backward as he delivers his blow or thrust.”
¹⁸⁵
On the other hand the two-handled hoplite shield is in no way incompatible with fighting as a soloist. Its advantages include the
porpax
or central armband, which helped support the weight of a larger shield that could be held at an angle more firmly than a single-handed shield to deflect blows more easily. The double-grip shield also made it possible for the hoplite to hold a spare weapon in his left hand. He discounts the often cited difficulties of using the less maneuverable hoplite shield to protect the more vulnerable right-hand side outside a tight formation.

Its [the double-grip shield’s] disadvantages were that it protected the left side better than the right, and that it did not effectively protect the back. But given that it is difficult for a right-hander to reach the right side of his opponent, and given that a hoplite could protect his right side by turning his body as well as by moving his shield (and would naturally do so in order to deliver a spear thrust), an individual fighter would find the double-handled shield preferable to its predecessors.
¹⁸⁶

In reference to hoplites in land battle, as opposed to marines who fought on triremes armed as hoplites, Krentz addresses some of the main tactical issues his theory raises.

How close did [a hoplite] need to be to his neighbor to feel reasonably protected? Within a spear’s thrust, I should think. Consider the position from the point of view of the enemy hoplite: how far would hoplite A have to be from hoplite B for an enemy to enter the gap and attack A from the side? Far enough so that the enemy would not have to worry about a spear or sword in his back from B while his attention was directed toward A. The comfortable limit, therefore, would be about six feet per man, as the Roman legionaries had (Polybius 18.29.6-8).
¹⁸⁷

Krentz allows for formations tighter than six feet apart per man under various scenarios, “but the typical battle order allowed significantly more than three feet per man.” He draws further support for this idea from Tyrtaeus 8.35–38, who pictures javelin and stone throwers seeking cover behind the shields of seventh-century hoplites. In sum, Krentz relates his position to earlier challenges to the orthodoxy. “The effect of my argument that hoplite battle consisted of a multiplicity of individual combats is to increase the emphasis A. M. Snodgrass and John Salmon have placed on gradual transition rather than sudden revolution in the switch from ‘Homeric’ to ‘hoplite’ warfare.”
¹⁸⁸

For Krentz, the phalanx was not an invention of the seventh century; it is fully present in Homer’s
Iliad
and only became more
standardized
later. He pictures a small
number of aristocrat hoplites fighting in the eighth-century phalanx alongside a much larger number of more vulnerable men who could not afford the new equipment. “The Homeric
laos
did not instantly disappear or move to the side. When the rank and file could afford it, no doubt they acquired the new panoply too—with the approval of the existing hoplites.”
¹⁸⁹

G. L. Cawkwell’s paper questions the orthodox model for how hoplites fought as far too rigid: “the only confidence one can have is that things were not as simple as the orthodox would have us believe.”
¹⁹⁰
The main thrust of his argument is that hoplites and phalanxes were far more flexible in their battle tactics and use of weapons than the orthodoxy allows.
¹⁹¹
For example, the orthodoxy draws heavily on Thucydides’ description of the battle of Mantinea to explain the hoplite’s need to protect his vulnerable right-hand side by maintaining a tight formation so as to seek protection from the shield of his right-hand neighbor. But Cawkwell is unconvinced. Hoplites may have advanced in close formation, but once they closed with the enemy they would have required more room to fight in the actual battle. Plato speaks in the
Laws
about the need for a full and regular system of military training organized by the polis, including teaching by experts in
hoplomachia
. This implies that fighting skills were important. Dancing, moreover, was part of [Spartan] hoplite training, and in the
Laws
(815a) Plato speaks of the Pyrrhic depicting “the motions executed to avoid blows and shots of all kinds (dodging, retreating, jumping into the air, crouching).”
¹⁹²
He notes that “when ‘the Mantineans and some of the Arcadians’ from the Ten Thousand danced, they did so in hoplite equipment, and in general the place of dancing in Greek life was such that we may be confident that most young men of the hoplite class got from dancing whatever was of use in it for soldiering.”
¹⁹³