This article examines how divine interventions intersect with human emotional responses in Xenophon. While existing literature has explored Xenophon’s religious attitude and piety,Footnote 1 little work has been done on Xenophon’s portrayal of divine action and its contribution to a comprehensive Xenophontic theory of emotions.
Xenophon’s worksFootnote 2 contain numerous instances of divine intervention (or claims about divine intervention). In these incidents the agent guiding the main action is the god or divinity, and its interventions even go beyond the influence on humans, extending to the realm of nature itself (Mem. 2.3.14).Footnote 3 The puppet metaphor provides an immediate reference for understanding the relationship between divine and human agency. This metaphor serves as a vivid image to illustrate these complex dynamics rather than as a literal analytical framework: at one extreme of this metaphor, divine intervention reduces mortals to puppets responding mechanically to divine agency; at the other lie Xenophon’s narratives of pious individuals, where gods function not strictly as puppet masters pulling strings, but more as agents (like choreographers or directors) who guide and enhance human agency while preserving moral responsibility and decision-making capacity. My aim is to demonstrate that in scenarios involving divine intervention, human agency can be influenced in different ways: it can either be enhanced or undermined by divine action.Footnote 4
While classical scholarship has extensively traced the evolution of concepts of agency and moral responsibility from Homeric atê to classical prohairesis,Footnote 5 this study employs the Cognitive Science of Religion (CSR) to illuminate underexplored aspects of agency in Xenophon. This approach uses modern cognitive concepts as heuristic tools to identify universal patterns in how humans process and respond to perceived superhuman agency.
Relationships between humans and gods are religious experiences that necessarily involve an emotional component.Footnote 6 The primary goal of this research is to describe the specific emotions that arise in situations in which human agency is affected by divine agency. These emotions function as the ‘strings’ in our metaphorical image, but they do not annul human agency; rather they enhance or undermine it. When the gods inspire fear to a pious individual, it typically does not paralyse human action but rather focusses it; when they instil confidence, they do not replace human courage but amplify it; when they establish charis relationships with pious individuals, they create bonds of reciprocity that empower rather than constrain human agency.
This article is divided into three main parts. In sections one and two, I will briefly outline the theoretical background of the Cognitive Science of Religion. In the third section, I will present and examine the representative examples of the emotions that emerge with divine intervention. I will first focus on the emotion of charis (gratitude) as the foundation for the religious bond between superhuman agents and human agents. This will be followed by the exploration of the emotions of fear and hope (or good expectations). Additionally, I will examine instances of confidence, an emotion that could be included within the scope of fear and hope in these religious experiences.Footnote 7 Finally, I will argue that there is a connection between the manifestation of these emotions and the impact of divine intervention on human agency.
COGNITIVE SCIENCE OF RELIGION AND SUPERHUMAN AGENTS
This work follows the methodological approach proposed by Larson,Footnote 8 applying the Cognitive Science of Religion (CSR) to the study of Greek religious experiences, with special attention to conceptions of agency, while recognizing that although cultural expressions vary considerably, the fundamental cognitive mechanisms underlying religious thought remain consistent across time. CSRFootnote 9 is an interdisciplinary ‘subfield which studies religion as a set of beliefs and behaviours rooted in the evolutionary development of the mind’.Footnote 10 Researchers have demonstrated that there is a shared foundation in many different religions because human beliefs and behaviours involve the same cognitive foundations.Footnote 11 CSR theorists place great importance on the role of superhuman agents in the human mind, and some claim that the religious phenomenon is rooted in individuals’ abilities to create counterintuitive ideas, such as anthropomorphicFootnote 12 beings with nonhuman superpowers, like invisibility, flight or mind-reading.Footnote 13 These counterintuitive attributes appear in Xenophon’s portrayal of divine interventions.
For CSR scholars, a successful god-concept should meet five requirements: it must be ‘(1) counterintuitive, (2) an intentional agent, (3) possessing strategic information, (4) able to act in the human world in detectable ways and (5) capable of motivating behaviours that reinforce belief’.Footnote 14
MCIs (minimally counterintuitive concepts)Footnote 15 constitute the strongest god-concepts susceptible of being easily spread and remembered. MCIs are created from a familiar concept (a person, lightning, etc.) and later endowed with a property that violates intuitive assumptions for that type of concept, such as being invisible, being immortal, reading minds or knowing the future.Footnote 16 These concepts are more likely to be transmitted as religious concepts, but they must be minimally counterintuitive (one or two category violations is just enough) to be transmitted without the help of memory.Footnote 17 If the concept has too many violations of biological, psychological and/or physical categories, it most likely will not be remembered because of its complexity.
What makes an MCI agentive is the ability to engage and operate purposefully within the environment in a manner humans can perceive and attribute the resulting effects to the intervention of a superhuman agent.Footnote 18 These MCIs must possess strategic information; otherwise, they ‘cannot serve in a devotional cult, cannot be appealed to for favor or information and cannot enforce moral codes … Beings with strategic information may be useful allies or dangerous enemies.’Footnote 19 Strategic information is information relevant for the individual’s survival and reproduction,Footnote 20 and this is a recurrent characteristic of Xenophon’s gods since they intervene as alliesFootnote 21 or enemiesFootnote 22 with information attained by virtue of their counterintuitive properties (they see everything, they are everywhere).Footnote 23 The intervention of these MCIs in the human world must be detectableFootnote 24 not only in immediate observable ways but also through the emotional responses of the humans affected by them, and these emotional responses tend to fluctuate between states of fear and hope. Boyer recognizes that religious MCIs activate various mental systems that control our emotions, predispose our way of interacting with others and give us moral feelings.Footnote 25 As for the last characteristic of a strong god-concept, Barrett clarifies that beings that fulfil the previous four criteria tend to have the fifth, that is, they motivate behaviours and religious practices to reinforce belief in this divine being.Footnote 26 It is only necessary that authoritative figuresFootnote 27 back these superhuman beings to give them plausibility and further motivate and reinforce religious practices and beliefs.
AUTONOMOUS AGENCY AND THE RELATIONAL APPROACH
The characterization of human agency presented by Bayne and PacherieFootnote 28 offers a relevant framework for analysing the passages in Xenophon’s works, as it centres on the empirical and experiential aspects of agency:
The manifest image of agency comprises two kinds of states: agentive experiences and agentive beliefs … Agentive experiences involve the awareness of agency as such. Although some agentive experiences concern the agency of others, we will focus here—as the literature does—on agentive experiences that concern one’s own agency … The literature contains a great variety of terminology here, with authors referring to experiences of deliberation, experiences of decision-making, experiences of intentionality, experiences of freedom, experiences of mental causation, the awareness of movement, the awareness of intentions to act, the sense of control, the sense of effort, and the sense of agency (among many others).Footnote 29
Agency encompasses different perspectives, therefore. To highlight the agent’s sense (or lack) of control and experiences associated with decision-making, I will introduce the concept of autonomy, as defined by Zuk and Lázaro-Muñoz.Footnote 30 They define autonomy as ‘the ability to set and achieve one’s ends’.Footnote 31 This inclusion of autonomy explains how individuals exercise their personal agency, as it encompasses both the act of carrying out actions and the underlying purposes and decision-making processes behind those actions. But autonomous agency can be affected in two distinct ways: it can either be promoted by expanding the subject’s free will,Footnote 32 or undermined by constraining or affecting the subject’s decision-making ability. For instance, individuals whose autonomous agency is undermined may experience ‘themselves as though under the sway of “remote control”’ or feel like a doll or a puppet.Footnote 33 Conversely, autonomy-promoting effects manifest as ‘greater self-confidence, self-reliance, and self-trust, and feelings of empowerment taking the form of a greater degree of short- and long-term planning’.Footnote 34 Furthermore, as I will show, situations with divine interventions that result in autonomy-promoting effects involve an increase in courage (or confidence) and hope.
Moore discusses agency as self-constitution,Footnote 35 which involves mastering one’s desires and acting on one’s ideals. This idea clearly describes what the relational concept of autonomy implies. For some ancient thinkers, divine supervision and adherence to divine norms were seen as conducive to self-constitution, suggesting a form of heteronomously achieved autonomy. This resonates with Xenophon’s idea that the ‘gods help those who help themselves’. The ‘relational’ concept of autonomy focusses on the fact that an individual’s autonomy relies on relations with others to exercise their own agency.Footnote 36 Although the performance of a certain action will be attributable to the individual, this exercise of agency will also include a set of ‘relevant actions of others in furtherance’ of the agent’s aim. These emotions act like strings of the puppet, and it is through these strings that divine action enhances or constrains human autonomy while preserving moral responsibility. If we look at Cyr. 8.7.3, Cyrus acknowledges that the gods have helped him in various ways to achieve his goals in life; he recognises the set of divine actions necessary for his current situation. Ultimately, his actions are his own and nobody else’s. But although the human individual exercises his autonomy, the possibility of him being able to exercise it will be impacted by others or by the social environment, in these cases by the superhuman agent.Footnote 37
The relational concept of autonomy suggests that the superhuman agent does not replace human autonomous agency, rather it affects it. Nevertheless, it is necessary to assess whether it is empowered or undermined in every emotional scenario. But the application of concepts such as ‘agentive experiences’ and ‘autonomy’ to fourth-century sources requires a brief methodological justification: this study employs these frameworks not as direct equivalents to Greek concepts but as analytical categories that help articulate the dynamics Xenophon presents. Following Larson’s approach,Footnote 38 I assume that while cultural expressions of agency vary considerably, the underlying cognitive mechanisms for processing intentional action and its constraints remain consistent across historical periods.
EMOTIONS AND AUTONOMOUS AGENCY IN XENOPHON
Implications of divine agency in Xenophon have already been discussed in previous literature.Footnote 39 Nevertheless, this cognitive approach from the emotional standpoint presents new ways of understanding the issues. In the following pages I will analyse emotions emphasizing humanFootnote 40 experience and knowledge of divine matters. The selection of gratitude (charis), fear (phobos, deidô, sebô, phrikê), hope (elpis), and confidence (tharsos) is methodologically grounded in Xenophon’s texts, and, from a CSR perspective, these emotions are particularly salient in the context of interaction with superhuman agents who are perceived as powerful, possessing strategic information and capable of affecting human life.Footnote 41 First, these four emotions constitute the primary affective responses documented in Xenophon’s texts when humans encounter divine intervention, while other emotions (such as anger, jealousy or pity) are predominantly confined to human-human interactions. Second, these emotions form a complementary system that encompasses the full spectrum of mortal responses to the divine. Charis (gratitude) establishes the foundational reciprocal relationship;Footnote 42 the fear spectrumFootnote 43 acknowledges the asymmetrical power dynamic; hope orients the individual toward future divine benefaction; and confidence represents the empowering effect of perceived divine assistance while providing an experiential confirmation of the divine powers. Together, they create a complete circuit of emotional engagement with divinity. Third, from the CSR perspective, these emotions have special significance in sustaining belief in supernatural agents. As Barrett argues, successful god concepts must motivate behaviours that reinforce belief, and these four emotions serve precisely this function: gratitude motivates reciprocal offerings; fear promotes ritual observance; hope encourages continued engagement; and confidence provides experiential confirmation.Footnote 44 Finally, these emotions specifically illuminate the central question of this study—how divine intervention affects human agency. Unlike other emotions, these four directly influence the exercise of human autonomous agency, like the strings of the puppet, either enhancing it or undermining it.
Charis (gratitude)
Charis Footnote 45 describes the relationship between humans and gods.Footnote 46 It represents a ‘favour’ that brings contentment to recipients while creating a positive anticipation of the favour being returned in givers. An exchange occurs, in this case between mortals and gods, and gratitude serves as the foundation for establishing a relationship with the gods.Footnote 47 Interestingly, the phenomenon does not conclude with the act of exchange; rather, it is depicted as a condition for maintaining a relationship with the gods. As a result, the consequences of this dynamic present two possible outcomes. One is the fear of punishment (Mem. 2.2.13–14) if an individual breaks this exchange. Another is the reasonable expectation of goodwill that comes from maintaining this exchange, feeding this relationship with more favours (Mem. 2.2.2) (sacrifices, prayers, offerings, festivals, etc.). Azoulay highlights an aspect already present in Xenophon’s conception: the ‘plasticity’ of charis, which transcends mere reciprocity to encompass material, symbolic, political and even philosophical and familial transactions.Footnote 48 To respect this exchange is believed to elicit positive inclinations from the gods towards humans, and the gods’ affectionFootnote 49 (φιλία) for a human being is treated as a major reward for ‘service to the gods’ and a virtuous life.Footnote 50 Without charis any form of relationship with the divine will be hindered. Even if a person merely fails to display charis towards other humans (Mem. 2.2.13–14), the gods, possessing strategic information (by virtue of their omniscience), will most likely pay little attention to that person or undermine his autonomy. From the CSR perspective,Footnote 51 charis is interpreted as a manifestation of evolved cognitive mechanisms. The expectation of reciprocity with divine agents (MCIs) aligns with theories of reciprocal altruism and social exchange, where associated emotions (gratitude or fear of punishment) would motivate the continuation of these relationships, ensuring their cultural stability and transmission. The charis mechanism sustains and reinforces belief in divine agents by creating a feedback loop.Footnote 52 The idea of reciprocal service within the charis relationship can be illustrated through an example found in Xen. Symp. 4.48–9:
Well, these gods, omniscient and omnipotent, feel so friendly toward me that their watchfulness over me never lets me out of their ken night or day, no matter where I am going or what business I have in view. They know also the results that will follow any act; and so they send me as messengers omens of sounds, dreams and birds, and thus indicate what I ought to do and what I ought not to do. And when I do their bidding, I never regret it; on the other hand, I have before now disregarded them and have been punished for it.
None of these statements, said Socrates, is incredible. But what I should like very much to know is how you serve them to keep them so friendly.
A very economical service it is, I declare! responded Hermogenes. I sound their praises—which costs nothing; I always restore them part of what they give me; I avoid profanity of speech as far as I can; and I never wittingly lie in matters wherein I have invoked them to be my witnesses.
Truly, said Socrates, if it is conduct like this that gives you their friendship, then the gods also, it would seem, take delight in nobility of soul!
According to Hermogenes the gods are friendly with him (φίλοι) because they care for him (ἐπιμελεῖσθαι). These gods possess counterintuitive abilities, being omniscient and omnipotent, and they intervene in detectable ways by signalling (σημαίνουσι) what he should and should not do. He adds that disobedience leads to punishment, which reinforces belief in these gods. However, Socrates poses a question to him, asking how he serves the gods (θεραπεύων) for them to be φίλοι. This exchange clarifies the roles of charis: humans offer service to the gods and obey them (therapeia), while in return, the gods take care of them (epimeleia).Footnote 53
This usage of therapeuôn in relation to the verb sêmainô, Footnote 54 which conveys the meaning of signalling or indicating something (and also encompasses giving orders or commands), strengthens the asymmetrical nature of this relationship. In Mem. 1.4.18 θεραπεύων and ἐπιμελεῖσθαι appear in the same sense: to serve the gods and have them care for humans in return. Ischomachus in Oec. 11.8 explains to Socrates that, since the gods reward with prosperity those who fulfil their obligations and are careful, he begins (ἄρχομαι) by ‘serving the gods’ (τοὺς θεοὺς θεραπεύων), because those who serve the gods are dear to the gods.
These examples demonstrate how the gods, as intentional agents, actively influence the lives of humans within the existing charis relationship. However, we must consider whether there is a qualitative distinction between the charis relationship between gods and humans and that of a superior and inferior with a power differential, such as a king and subject or a parent and child. From our perspective, there appears to be none. Supernatural agent concepts can be understood as person concepts, albeit with extraordinary properties.Footnote 55 The main distinction in the divine and human charis relationship lies in the magnitude of the benefits and the stakes involved. The most coveted favours are closely linked to eudaimonia, encompassing a prosperous, safe and healthy life. Conversely, the most feared outcomes consist of divine punishment in both the present life, the afterlife, or extended to one’s offspring.
In this context, the charis relationship reveals the internal affective nature of gratitude in humans, involving a pleasant feeling,Footnote 56 an admiration for the good things provided, a sense of justice in understanding how to return the favour properly, and a sense of humility. Humans take great pride in the service they offer to the gods and hope to continue maintaining it. Simultaneously, they are aware of the negative implications of not showing gratitude for a benefit or favour. Fear, as a sign of awe, but also as a sign of a future danger, plays an important role in the charis relationship. Another aspect of this emotional scenario is that proper gratitude is connected to eudaimonia, the most desirable way of living. By pleasing the gods with these services, humans receive in return a safe, prosperous, and what looks like an eudaimôn life.
Cyrus is known to have followed his father’s counsel to honour the gods (Cyr. 1.6.2–6). Before undertaking any significant action, he entrusted himself to the gods, acknowledging their involvement in his achievements whenever he succeeded (2.1.1, 4.1.2, 6.4.1, 7.1.1, 8.7.3). Following a warning received in a dream about the impending end of his life (8.7.2), Cyrus recognized the divine origin of this dream. In response, he offered sacrifices to all the gods and prayed, showing his gratitude (8.7.3):
O ancestral Zeus and Helius and all the gods, accept these offerings as tokens of gratitude (χαριστήρια) for help in achieving many glorious enterprises; for in omens in the sacrifice, in signs from heaven, in the flight of birds, and in ominous words, you ever showed (ἐσημαίνετε) me what I ought to do and what I ought not to do. And I render heartfelt thanks to you that I have never failed to recognize your fostering care (ἐπιμέλειαν) and never in my successes entertained proud thoughts transcending human bounds (πολλὴ δ᾽ ὑμῖν χάρις ὅτι κἀγὼ ἐγίγνωσκον τὴν ὑμετέραν ἐπιμέλειαν καὶ οὐδεπώποτε ἐπὶ ταῖς εὐτυχίαις ὑπὲρ ἄνθρωπον ἐφρόνησα). And I ask of you that you will now also grant prosperity and happiness to my children, my wife, my friends and my country, and to me myself an end befitting the life that you have given me. (αἰτοῦμαι δ᾽ ὑμᾶς δοῦναι καὶ νῦν παισὶ μὲν καὶ γυναικὶ καὶ φίλοις καὶ πατρίδι εὐδαιμονίαν, ἐμοὶ δὲ οἷόνπερ αἰῶνα δεδώκατε, τοιαύτην καὶ τελευτὴν δοῦναι).
In this context Cyrus is engaging in acts of reciprocation towards the gods with telestêria and charistêria. The latter exemplify the transactional aspect of charis, which are usually acknowledgments of gratitude for favours received. Nevertheless, the plasticity of charis cannot be confined to its capacity to designate the back-and-forth nature of exchange. Depending on the situation, charis corresponds to material or symbolic transactions, capable of describing at one an exchange (political or sexual), an economic or philosophical transaction, and a familial or religious tie.Footnote 57
In Cyrus’ example the emotional dimension of this religious bond surfaces when he immediately lists the favours for which he is grateful. He acknowledges that the gods have cared for him (τὴν ὑμετέραν ἐπιμέλειαν) and guided him (ἐσημαίνετε) as seen in the previous example of Symp. 4.48–9. The fact that the gods signalled Cyrus, indicating what actions were necessary, is the quintessential illustration of how divine agency affects human autonomous agency by promoting it. The intentional agency of the gods is present in the care bestowed upon him (epimeleia), and he acknowledges that his very existence has been preserved at their discretion. Moreover, Cyrus recognizes that he has never taken his benefits for granted, which is a sign of piety and awe towards the divine. He humbly acknowledges his inferior human condition understanding that all he has been granted is due to divine power. In return, he requests divine favours for his offspring, on account of his pious and god-fearing behaviour.
If we consider the argument from design as presented in Mem.1.4 and 4.3, which posits that the gods intelligently designed the world and are especially concerned with humans (Mem. 1.4.2–14), charis emerges in Xenophon as an emotion with a divine essence.Footnote 58 Since the gods created the world and humanity within it, and considering that ‘man is the most grateful of all creatures’ (Cyr. 8.3.49), charis exhibits its divine essence. An asymmetric relationship appears to be a necessary condition for the arousal of this emotion. This asymmetry is also maintained in the cases of fear.
For these reasons it behoves us not to despise the things that are unseen, but, realising their power in their manifestations, to honour the godhead. Socrates, replied Euthydemus, that I will in no wise be heedless of the godhead I know of a surety. But my heart fails me when I think that no man can ever render due thanks to the gods for their benefits (ὅτι μοι δοκεῖ τὰς τῶν θεῶν εὐεργεσίας οὐδ᾽ ἂν εἷς ποτε ἀνθρώπων ἀξίαις χάρισιν ἀμείβεσθαι).
‘Nay, be not down-hearted, Euthydemus; for you know that to the inquiry, “How am I to please the gods?” (πῶς ἂν τοῖς θεοῖς χαρίζοιτο) the Delphic god replies, “Follow the custom of the state”; and everywhere, I suppose, it is the custom that men propitiate the gods with sacrifices according to their power. How then can a man honour the gods more excellently and more devoutly than by doing as they themselves ordain? (πῶς οὖν ἄν τις κάλλιον καὶ εὐσεβέστερον τιμῴη θεοὺς ἤ, ὡς αὐτοὶ κελεύουσιν, οὕτω ποιῶν;). Only he must fall no whit short of his power. For when he does that, it is surely plain that he is not then honouring the gods.’ (Mem. 4.3.14–17).
For when the god raises a storm at sea, there’s no time to look around for what you need or to issue something that’s all jumbled. For the god threatens and punishes slackers. You’re lucky (πάνυ ἀγαπητόν) if he merely refrains from destroying the innocent; and if he also saves you when you do your work well, you have great gratitude (πολλὴ χάρις) towards the gods (τοῖς θεοῖς) (Oec. 8.16).Footnote 59
Gratitude is depicted as a gift bestowed by the gods as a reward for good behaviour. It is directly related to fear, as it promotes and reinforces obedience towards the gods. Gratitude, therefore, produces (or better: reproduces) gratitude, creating a cycle of reciprocity.Footnote 60 If reciprocity is not maintained, the relationship falters and the gods respond to this act of ingratitude in negative ways (Hell. 3.4.11 = Ages.1.13). In these examples, the asymmetrical relationship between human and superhuman agents becomes evident through the limitations imposed on the individual’s autonomous agency. In the case of slackers and the ungrateful, the second example can be interpreted from the relational perspective as a situation where individual autonomy is limited by the superhuman agent. However, for those who properly honour the gods (the grateful), the result seems to be assured, and human agency is likely to be empowered.Footnote 61
Fear
As previously anticipated the charis relationship encompasses the emotion of fear. The fear of godFootnote 62 is the foundation of religious practices and a good incentive to behave well in society.Footnote 63 When mortals approach the divine, they do so from an emotional standpoint, expecting benevolence and grace while looking to avoid any negative repercussions. Therefore, the fear of divine wrath and punishment can be seen as a universal phenomenon.Footnote 64 On the spectrum of emotions, fear and hope play a key role in the emotional construction of the divine. These emotions can be attributed in part to the intuitive inference that superhuman agents are usually invoked in times of misfortune, success or extraordinary events.
In the Greek language, various terms are used to express the emotion of fear, with phobos being one of the most used. Aristotle defines phobos as a fear of future evil; it causes a reaction that involves reflection and inference, as Konstan notes.Footnote 65 Other fear-related words are associated with the presence of the divine, since ‘in the most various languages and cultures the expressions for dealing with the divine are taken from the word-field fear.’Footnote 66 Eusebeia (piety) encompasses fear or awe towards the divine, but it is based also on an evaluation of what is deemed good. ‘To designate the awe that spreads from the gods the root seb- appears; etymologically it too points back to danger and flight.’Footnote 67
In Cyr. 3.3.57, Cyrus decides to no longer postpone the march against the Assyrian army and subsequently offers prayers and leads his army:
While they were still out of range, Cyrus passed the watchword, ‘Zeus our Helper and our Guide’ (Ζεὺς σύμμαχος καὶ ἡγεμών). And when the watchword came back to him, Cyrus himself began the usual hymn, and they all devoutly (θεοσεβῶς) joined with a loud voice in the singing, for in the performance of such service the god-fearing (οἱ δεισιδαίμονες) have less fear of men (ἧττον τοὺς ἀνθρώπους φοβοῦνται).
And when the hymn was ended, the peers marched on … So Cyrus’s army was filled with enthusiasm, ambition, strength, courage, exhortation, self-control, obedience (προθυμίας, φιλοτιμίας, ῥώμης, θάρρους, παρακελευσμοῦ, σωφροσύνης, πειθοῦς); and this, I think, is the most formidable (δεινότατον) thing an enemy has to face (Cyr. 3.3.58–9).
The first notable aspect in this passage is the understanding that Cyrus demonstrates of the charis-relationship by referring to Zeus as an ally (σύμμαχος) and a guide (ἡγεμών). These terms imply that Cyrus recognizes the role of the gods as intentional agents who intervene in the human world to enhance the autonomous agency of soldiers by instilling courage, enthusiasm and positive qualities necessary to face battle. Furthermore, the passage introduces three different concepts of fear: theosebeia, deisidaimonia and phobos. In the case of theosebeia Footnote 68 and deisidaimonia,Footnote 69 these are concepts specifically pertaining to the fear of the divine. The first has the seb- rootFootnote 70 meaning to worship the gods, but also with a sense of reverence, as a type of fearful respect. The latter is formed by deidô Footnote 71 and daimôn, meaning literally ‘fearing daimons’. The verb deidô is associated with a sense of alarm and anxiety, and it is also connected to the adjective dios (something divine or heavenly) and the noun deos Footnote 72 (fear also in a sense of alarm or dread). It is worth mentioning that deisidaimonia poses a complex phenomenon due to its frequent pejorative uses,Footnote 73 since it most commonly implies excessive devotion or superstition.Footnote 74 In this context I will argue that Xenophon uses it in a descriptive manner: it is not intended as a criticism but rather as a recognition that in situations such as war, individuals naturally seek divine assistance to an extreme degree. Chaniotis highlights the interconnection of deisidaimonia and theosebôs to eusebeia, emphasizing that all three revolve around the fear of the divine.Footnote 75 In the same sentence Xenophon expresses fear in two distinct ways: the fear of men (deisidaimôn) in situations like war, and the fear (phobountai) felt towards other men. By making this distinction, Xenophon emphasizes the difference between fear directed towards the divine and fear experienced towards anything below the divine realm, including other humans.Footnote 76 The latter aligns with Aristotle’s definition in Rhetoric 1382a 20–25: ‘Let fear (phobos) be defined as a painful or troubled feeling caused by the impression of an imminent evil that causes destruction or pain.’ A suitable example of this kind of fear appears in the context of an alleged omen sent by Zeus in a dream (An. 3.1.11–13). The narrator describes a state of perplexityFootnote 77 (aporia)Footnote 78 and distress by the realization that they were marching alongside Cyrus against his own brother, the King, a fact of which Xenophon was previously unaware. This aporetic state becomes significant in understanding the subsequent emotions of fear and the emergence of hope when a god intervenes. Despite the aporia, Xenophon managed to sleep and sawFootnote 79 (εἶδεν) a dream (ὄναρ).Footnote 80 This suggests that the dream was a visual stimulus sent by the god (An. 3.1.11–13):
It seemed to him that there was a clap of thunder and a bolt fell on his father’s house, setting the whole house ablaze. He awoke at once in great fear (περίφοβος), and judged the dream in one way an auspicious one, because in the midst of hardships and perils he had seemed to behold a great light from Zeus (φῶς μέγα ἐκ Διὸς ἰδεῖν); but looking at it in another way he was fearful (ἐφοβεῖτο), since the dream came, as he thought, from Zeus the King and the fire appeared to blaze all about, lest he might not be able to escape out of the King’s country, but might be shut in on all sides by various difficulties. Now what it really means to have (ἰδεῖν) such a dream one may learn from the events which followed the dream.
This example highlights the presence of all the criteria for a strong god concept. Firstly, it demonstrates the counterintuitive and intentional agency of the gods, as they send or implant a dream as a visual stimulus. The intervention occurs in the real world with detectable consequences, as the dream provides strategic information and Xenophon must interpret its meaning and decide how to act—a dynamic that parallels Moore’s observation that divine supervision can support rather than undermine self-constitution when properly aligned with the person’s agency.Footnote 81 This motivates the belief in the divinity and reinforces the confidence that the gods will be allies due to the army’s commitment to honouring their oaths (An. 3.1.22). We also find here a divine intervention that needs interpretation by the human agent. The god is intervening in a way that requires the human autonomous agency to perform an action to make a decision. The god does not grant salvation but rather empowers human autonomous agency by sending a dream that arouses productive fear. When Xenophon fell asleep, he ‘saw’ a dream within which he ‘saw’ a great light from Zeus. This word-play between phobos, periphobos and phôs resembles the relation between phrikê and phôs in Cyr. 4.2.15. In the example of Anabasis, phobos appears in the second level of events, that is, after the dream is interpreted. He saw the events that caused him fear only within the dream. On the other hand, in Cyr. 4.2.15 the phrikê is immediately produced by the visual stimulus, as a direct indication of divine epiphany.
In the first example (Cyr. 3.3.58–59) and in the dream described in the Anabasis, the experience of fear (god-fear and fear of signs, respectively) serves as a productive force, enhancing the capabilities of human agents. These instances of fear have both psychological and physical effects on the army, providing tangible evidence of the divine’s agency. From the relational perspective, these feelings of empowerment foster autonomy, as in the case of the courage (θάρρους) inspired by the god.Footnote 82 As a result, Cyrus affirms his alliance with the gods, and similarly, in Xenophon’s dream, the divine omen enables him to devise a plan to avoid falling into the hands of the Persian King and motivates the army by instilling good expectations and confidence (An. 3.1.21 ‘the judges of the contest are the gods, who, in all likelihood, will be on our side’, ἀγωνοθέται δ᾽ οἱ θεοί εἰσιν, οἳ σὺν ἡμῖν, ὡς τὸ εἰκός, ἔσονται).
Agesilaus provides a paradigmatic example of how to make the gods allies through fear of them, thereby ensuring their intervention and enhancing human’s autonomous agency. His profound reverence for divine matters (τὰ μὲν θεῖα οὕτως ἐσέβετο) instilled such trust in his oaths that even his enemies relied on them (Ages. 3.2). Furthermore, he feared and respected (ἐσέβετο) sacred places, regardless of whether they were in enemy territory or not, to secure the support and favour of the gods (Ages. 11.1).
A last fear-word worth exploring is the occurrence of phrikê in Cyropaedia, which was previously introduced in relation to the luminous sign in the Anabasis dream (3.1.11–23):
As they proceeded, night came on, and it is said that a light (φῶς) from heaven shone forth upon Cyrus and his army, so that (ὥστε) they were all filled with awe (φρίκην) at the miracle but with courage to meet the enemy (θάρρος δὲ πρὸς τοὺς πολεμίους). And as they were proceeding in light marching order with all dispatch, they naturally covered a great distance, and in the morning twilight they drew near to the army of the Hyrcanians (Cyr. 4.2.15).
Phrikê here is the only occurrence of this word in Xenophon. Its context, once again, involves divine intervention. Cairns has explored the implications of phrikê as an emotion that is triggered by unexpected visual and auditory stimuli, leading to physical reactions.Footnote 83 The passage highlights the connection between the visual stimulus and its divine origin.
There is no explicit temporal indication in the text that lets us know which emotion occurs first; the only indication that both emotions are motivated by the divine is that both happened after the light from heaven shone. This example shows a causal nexus in the emotions that appears after the divine intervention, but the relevant aspect is that since phrikê is a physical symptom, an immediate response, it does not have propositional content and is a purely experiential emotion.Footnote 84 The narrative illustrates a miraculous situation, the night sky was dark, and then a heavenly light illuminated it. The conjunction ὥστε in the second clause indicates the result, the effect of the previous action (the light). Consequently, they were both filled with φρίκη, ‘shivering fear, shuddering, esp. from religious awe’,Footnote 85 and with courage to face their enemies.
CairnsFootnote 86 explains that φρίκη indicates an emotion ‘particularly associated with automatic responses to sudden visual or auditory stimuli’Footnote 87 and ‘in connection with the divine, … has as much to do with sebas, a type of awe or respect that responds to legitimate status and authority’.Footnote 88 The φρίκη in this passage is intended to represent a physical response to the triggering stimulus, which, in this case, takes the form of a common Zeus epiphany.Footnote 89 The complexity of phrikê lies in the fact that it involves the immediacy of the visual, the mediation of interpreting the circumstances, and the spontaneity of the physical reaction.Footnote 90 The shuddering fear can be contrasted by the subsequent appearance of its opposite emotion: courage. Indeed, courage can be seen as a countermeasure to fear, and phrikê appears as the initial emotion in the emotional sequence.
These examples provide insights into the power of divine intervention and the successful outcomes resulting from productive religious fear. Although it might seem that fear is employed by the divine to undermine human autonomous agency, these examples demonstrate the opposite effect. The arousal of fear in individuals facing the divine enhances and empowers their autonomous agency.
Elpis or good expectations
Elpis has already been introduced in the previous sections. In our examples, it is an emotion that manifests as a consequence of previous situations involving fears and anxieties (in cases explicitly stated as aporiai). In the context of divine intervention, elpis constantly contrasts with the emotion of fear. Chaniotis explains that elpis Footnote 91 is an emotion that is interconnected with judgment and appraisal. While it generally conveys positive expectations, it can also encompass the fear of possible or anticipated events. Elpis involves drawing upon past experiences and observations to form judgements. In Xenophon’s works it often appears as a response to fear, reflecting a sense of self-confidence or courage which opposes fear.
For where men reverence the gods (ὅπου γὰρ ἄνδρες θεοὺς μὲν σέβοιντο), train themselves in deeds of war and practice obedience to authority, may we not reasonably suppose that such a place abounds in high hopes (πῶς οὐκ εἰκὸς ἐνταῦθα πάντα μεστὰ ἐλπίδων ἀγαθῶν εἶναι)? (Hell. 3.4.18)Footnote 92
Here the connection between observation and experience is manifested in the relation between fearing the divine, doing what one ought to do and its natural consequence: when men do what they must do, they can expect beneficial outcomes. In the case of Xenophon, when used in the context of religious experiences, elpis is portrayed in a positive light,Footnote 93 since gods help god-fearing men.
Hope and fear are necessary conditions for a pious individual and both are integral elements of piety (eusebeia). Fear of the divine encourages adherence to divine laws, rituals and proper behaviours, while hope can be seen as a form of reward, the expectation of divine favour (charis). Fear and hope (or good expectations) also share a temporal aspect as they refer to events that have not yet occurred.Footnote 94 Another interesting aspect of good expectations in Xenophon is the direct appeal to the divine power, often expressed with phrases like ‘with the help of the gods’ or ‘god willing’ (σὺν θεοῖς),Footnote 95 used in promises,Footnote 96 for protection and benefaction from the gods,Footnote 97 with the outcome dependent on the authority and benevolence of the divine agent. This is a formula for good expectations that confirms that human agency is promoted by the superhuman agent. The positive aspect of these good expectations is recognizable in the fact that all these examples are examples in which human agency has always the potentiality to be empowered.
The formula of elpis is usually presented as accompanied by other action, for example, in An. 3.2.8 the army has ‘with the gods’ (help)’ (σὺν τοῖς θεοῖς) many hopes (ἐλπίδες), or in An. 3.2.10 the ‘many fair hopes (πολλαὶ καὶ καλαὶ ἐλπίδες) of deliverance’ are conditional to having respected the oaths undertaken in the name of the gods. Therefore they ‘assume that the gods are their (the enemy’s) foes and our allies’, and the following phrase showcases the characteristics of a strong god-concept: ‘the gods are able speedily to make the strong weak and, when they so will, easily to deliver the weak, even though they be in dire perils’ (idem).
I have already mentioned one important aspect of elpis when there is aporia or perplexity. In the discussion of fear, the example of An. 3.1.11–13 presents a situation of aporia in the army, which eventually is resolved due to a divine omen sent to Xenophon through a dream. In An. 4.3.8 there is another omen sent from the gods:
That day and night, accordingly, they remained there, in great perplexity (πολλῇ ἀπορίᾳ). But Xenophon had a dream; he thought that he was bound in fetters, but that the fetters fell off from him of their own accord, so that he was released and could take as long steps as he pleased. When dawn came, he went to Cheirisophus, told him he had hopes that all would be well (λέγει ὅτι ἐλπίδας ἔχει καλῶς ἔσεσθαι), and related to him his dream.
The structure of the dream in An. 3.1.11–13 follows a similar pattern to the previously analysed dream. It begins with a state of perplexity that prevents movement, followed by a divine intervention through a dream, and it ultimately elicits an emotional response that impacts the autonomous agency of mortals. In the first dream, productive fear is aroused, while in this second dream it explicitly engenders good expectations. The divine intervention is, in both cases, unexpected and miraculous, further reinforcing belief in these omens. This aligns with the fifth condition for a strong god concept, wherein the gods motivate behaviours that reinforce belief.
At first sight the divine appears as the sole agency for achieving the desired results, but upon closer examination, the actions are performed directly by the soldiers, not the gods. This shows again that elpis is an emotion that arises through the enhancement of human autonomy. However, it is important to acknowledge that the gods, by virtue of their supernatural powers, serve as a significant source of hope, beyond reasonable human expectations.Footnote 98
Confidence or courage as depending on fear and hope
Chaniotis notes that the use of tharsos Footnote 99 is an expression that represents the ‘ambiguous’ feelings of fear and hope that coexist in the religious experience. This term appears in ‘narratives of human encounters with a god’ and can also be seen in various contexts related to divine pronouncements. Tharsos, confidence or courage, has already been mentioned in Cyr. 3.3.58–9 and An. 3.1.11–13. In these passages, tharsos is portrayed as the opposite emotion of fear, arising as a response to prayers and good omens. Similar to the case of phrikê, we can see another miraculous account of divine intervention, following Archidamus’ encouraging speech to his troops:
When these words had been spoken, it is said that from a clear sky there came lightnings and thunderings of favourable omen for him (τούτων δὲ ῥηθέντων ἐξ αἰθρίας ἀστραπάς τε καὶ βροντὰς λέγουσιν αἰσίους αὐτῷ φανῆναι); and it chanced also that on the right wing was a sanctuary and a statue of Heracles. As a result, therefore, of all these things (τοιγαροῦν ἐκ τούτων πάντων), it is reported that the soldiers were inspired with so much strength and courage (πολὺ μένος καὶ θάρρος) that it was a task for their leaders to restrain them as they pushed forward to the front. And when Archidamus led the advance, only a few of the enemy waited till his men came within spear-thrust; these were killed, and the rest were cut down as they fled, many by the horsemen and many by the Celts (Hell. 7.1.31).
This passage portrays a situation of evident, visible divine intervention and the emphasis on the clear sky before the lightnings and thundering along with the sanctuary and statue on the rightFootnote 100 points to the miraculous nature of the events. The use of the verb phanein Footnote 101 to manifest the divine power with visual and acoustic signals intensifies the emotional impact on the human agents given the unpredictability and the magnitude of these signals. These vivid and strong images express the emotional intensity of the encounter with the supernatural agent. As Socrates asserts in Mem. 4.3.13–14, the gods themselves are invisible, and they do not present themselves, but they demonstrate their power through their manifestations. Xenophon’s narrative also emphasises the extraordinary character of this situation, as it is relayed to him by a third party, described as ‘it is said’, further adding to its remarkable quality.
If we consider that courage is the opposite of fear, this passage depicts courage as the mastery of fear, representing an autonomy-promoting effect granted by the superhuman agent. It can also be portrayed as bestowed by the gods, most commonly in situations of fear.Footnote 102 Here courage appears as something that comes from the exterior, acting upon the human agent:Footnote 103 ‘it is said (φασίν) that a lot of passion or strength (πολὺ μένος) and courage (καὶ θάρρος) fell upon (ἐμπεσεῖν) these soldiers’. Similarly, in Cyr. 1.6.19 inspiring men with hope seems more powerful than inspiring enthusiasm (τὸ προθυμίαν ἐμβαλεῖν): ‘nothing seems to be more effectual than the power of inspiring men with hope (ἐλπίδας ἐμποιεῖν)’. Embalein and empoiein are agency concepts that indicate that states of mind are produced within the mortal agent. This is how divine agency enhances human autonomous agency.
KonstanFootnote 104 explains that fear is ‘a necessary ingredient of courage’, and he presents an example in Mem. 3.3.5–6, where Xenophon has Socrates present an argument in favour of fear (phobos) over confidence (tharsos).Footnote 105 He explains to Pericles that confidence is the cause of ‘carelessness, slackness, disobedience’, while ‘fear makes men more attentive, more obedient, more amendable to discipline’. Socrates highlights the potential dangers of tharsos, as seen in Hell. 7.1.31 where soldiers were so infused with strength and confidence that they had to be restrained by their leaders from advancing too eagerly. The sequence of agency is evident: first, the emotion finds a divine cause, and then the autonomous agency is empowered. This type of courage is desirable in a military context, perhaps, but it can also lead to disobedience and carelessness. Fear remains necessary and especially the regulatory force of god-fear. It is in Mem. 4.4.19 that Socrates agrees with Hippias’ statement that the gods created the laws for men, the first law being to fear the gods (theous sebein).Footnote 106 Divinely inspired confidence, then, can also be distinguished from negligent confidence because it involves a necessary quote of fear of the divine,Footnote 107 and it is not originated in the individual. Moreover, it seems that tharsos granted by the gods possesses a sense of justice and measure (associated with enkrateia and eusebeia) that the excessive self-confidence other human characters may lack. Tharsos without piety can be problematic.
CONCLUSIONS
The main objective of this work is to contribute to the ongoing debate regarding the connection between divine agency and human emotions in Xenophon. Firstly, the gods depicted in his narratives are successful god-concepts that meet the five criteria of counterintuitiveness, intentional agency, possession of strategic information, detectable actions in the human world, and the ability to motivate behaviours and emotions that reinforce belief. The following appendix presents a summary of all the passages mentioned in this article, in which divine intervention and arousal of emotions in humans are explicitly stated. Most of the explicit examples emphasize the importance of the fifth criterion in Xenophon’s theology which pertains to the divine interventions’ ability to strengthen belief in the gods by arousing the analysed emotions.
The superhuman agency of the Xenophontic gods does not revoke or substitute human agency but empowers or undermines it within the context of the charis relationship. Each instance of divine intervention produces an emotional response from the human agent, and a pattern emerges wherein the pious individual maintains the charis relationship by fearing or revering the gods, leading to the development of good expectations and the hope for a reciprocal response from the divine power. This, in turn, inspires great courage in the human agent. In most cases, pious behaviour results in empowered autonomous agency. The pattern can be summarized in the sequence charis-fear-good expectations and repeat.
In understanding agency, it is crucial to consider autonomy, which refers to the ability to make decisions and take actions with a goal in mind. Divine intervention occurs within the realm of autonomous agency, with the divine either promoting or undermining it. The emotions of fear, confidence, courage and gratitude play a significant role in empowering autonomous agency. This analysis reveals that Xenophon’s conception of divine agency operates through what Moore calls ‘heteronomously achieved autonomy’—divine guidance that enhances rather than replaces human self-constitution. The pious individual experiences divine intervention as empowerment that aligns with virtuous agency, while the impious finds their already compromised autonomy further constrained.
Are Xenophon’s gods puppet masters? Xenophon’s gods are not puppet masters in the strict deterministic sense. Rather, they function as what might be called agency modulators—enhancing the autonomous capacity of the pious while exposing the pre-existing limitations of the impious. The pious individual experiences divine intervention as empowerment, guidance or confirmation of virtuous choices, while the impious finds their flawed agency constrained or undermined. Impious and neglectful individuals are more susceptible to becoming puppets. However, pious individuals will be able to work with the gods. This article demonstrates that the CSR framework, when carefully integrated with classical scholarship, reveals previously unrecognised patterns in Xenophon’s portrayal of divine-human interaction. The emotional complex of charis, the fear spectrum, hope and confidence functions as the mechanism through which divine agency influences human autonomy without annulling moral responsibility: they work as the strings of the puppet.
APPENDIX
The following list offers all the passages with explicit instances of divine intervention throughout Xenophon’s entire corpus, systematically categorized according to Barrett’s (2008) five criteria for successful god-concepts (CI = Counterintuitive, IA = Intentional Agent, SI = Strategic Information, DA = Detectable Action, RB = Reinforcing Behaviours). The list demonstrates the consistent presence of these CSR criteria across Xenophon’s works and provides empirical support for the article’s central argument. It includes all the passages from the complete Xenophontic corpus where divine intervention is explicitly stated or clearly implied through textual markers. Each passage listed corresponds to contexts where the four primary emotions examined in this study emerge as responses to divine intervention.
An. 3.1.11–12 (IA, SI, DA); 3.1.21 (CI); 3.2.8 (IA, DA, RB); 3.2.10 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 3.3.14 (IA, SI, DA, RB); 4.3.8 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 4.5.35, 7.6.32 (RB); 7.7.7 (IA, DA, RB).
Mem. 1.1.19 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 1.3.3 (IA); 1.4.4–6 (CI, DA); 1.4.7–8 (CI, IA, SI, DA); 1.4.8–9 (CI, IA, DA); 1.4.9–11 (RB); 1.4.10 (SI); 1.4.11 (IA, SI, DA); 1.4.13–16 (CI, IA, RB); 1.4.14-16 (SI, DA); 1.4.16 (CI, IA, SI); 1.4.18, 2.2.14 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 3.13–17 (DA); 4.3.13 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 4.3.14 (SI); 4.3.14–17 (CI, IA, RB).
Cyr. 1.6.19, 3.3.58–59 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 4.2.12 (CI, IA, SI, RB); 4.2.15, 4.6.8 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 4.12 (IA, DA, RB); 5.2.8 (CI, SI, DA, RB); 5.2.35 (CI, SI, RB); 5.3.20 (IA, DA, RB); 5.5.44 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB); 6.2.14 (IA, DA, RB); 7.1.17, 7.5.72, 8.1.25, 8.5.23, 8.7.3, 8.7.22 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB).
Hell. 3.4.11 (CI, IA, SI, DA); 3.4.18 (RB); 7.1.31 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB).
Ages. 1.13 (CI, IA, SI); 1.27 (SI, DA, RB); 3.2, 10.2 (RB); 11.1–3 (SI, RB); 11.8 (RB).
Oec. 8.16 (CI, IA, SI, RB), 8.25 (CI, IA, SI, DA).
Symp. 8.37 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB).
Hier. 8.5 (CI, IA, SI, DA).
Eq. mag. 1.1–2, 1.1–9.9, 5.14, 9.7–9 (CI, IA, SI, DA, RB).
