1. Diotogenes: unknown, unloved

The name of Diotogenes is not a familiar one, not even among classicists. He is a Neopythagorean thinker whose works have all been lost, except for a few fragments that have been preserved in Stobaeus’ Anthology. We still have three fragments from a treatise On Piety and two longer excerpts from a treatise On Kingship.Footnote ¹ The author himself is entirely unknown: we only have his name, and even that is not certain. As a matter of fact, the name itself is unparalleled in extant ancient sources,Footnote ² and several scholars have suggested alternatives such as Diogenes or (the equally unparalleled) Diaetogenes.Footnote ³ Diotogenes’ date is likewise a matter of speculation. The fragments from his works do not contain any clear information that could provide us with a terminus post or ante quem, and as a result, opinions on the date differ greatly. Some scholars favour a relatively early date in the Hellenistic period (third century BC),Footnote ⁴ others are convinced that Diotogenes lived in a period between the first century BC and the first century AD,Footnote ⁵ and yet others prefer an even later date, in the early Imperial period (first or second century AD).Footnote ⁶ The few scraps of a recently edited papyrus (P.Bingen 3) which may contain a fragment from Diotogenes’ treatise On Kingship are of little help, since the precise relation between the two texts is far from clear.Footnote ⁷ We mainly have to rely on a careful linguistic analysis of Diotogenes’ artificial Doric and on a study of the occurrence of parallel ideas in other authors. But such studies do not yield compelling evidence,Footnote ⁸ and a prudent non liquet seems to be the only possible conclusion of this long scholarly debate.

In the light of all these problems, it is perhaps not surprising that Diotogenes’ thinking has received only little attention in scholarly research. Particularly illustrative in this respect is the article in the Realencyclopädie, which consists of only six lines.Footnote ⁹ Several more general studies of the ideology of kingship briefly discuss Diotogenes, usually relating him to other Neopythagorean authors such as pseudo-Archytas, and especially Sthenidas and Ecphantus.Footnote ¹⁰ The latter two also wrote treatises On Kingship which have been lost, except for a few fragments preserved in Stobaeus.Footnote ¹¹ Although they are not better known than Diotogenes, a comparison of the three authors reveals several interesting parallels, and in that sense one obscurum may at least throw some opaque light on another one. Bruno Centrone has pushed such a comparative approach to an extreme, by combining various elements taken from different Neopythagorean authors in order to reconstruct one coherent political doctrine.Footnote ¹² His view has much to commend it. It radically and quite consistently pursues the consequences of a widespread implicit tendency that exists in the scholarly research on the Neopythagorean fragments. Moreover, it gives a good idea of the general orientation of the political thinking that can be found in these Neopythagorean treatises On Kingship. Of central importance is, of course, the figure of the king, who occupies an intermediate position between God and his subjects. The king should himself imitate God and therefore aims at (or even already shows evidence of)Footnote ¹³ perfect virtue. As such, he can himself act as a model for his subjects and finally establish in his kingdom a harmony that conforms to the harmony of the universe. This, as Centrone has shown very well, is the core of the Neopythagorean political doctrine.

Yet such general reconstructions also entail an obvious methodological problem, in that they fail to do justice to the specificity of every singular author.Footnote ¹⁴ Even if Centrone's main hypothesis that the different treatises all rest on a single coherent philosophical system is correct, it remains true that the various authors still have their distinctive approaches. Most scholars agree that Ecphantus has a different profile from Diotogenes and that he is the more interesting of the two.Footnote ¹⁵ In this article, I would like to redress the balance. I claim indeed that a careful reading of the two fragments from Diotogenes’ treatise On Kingship shows that he was an ingenious and sophisticated political thinker who was able to contribute creatively to his own philosophical tradition. This view also challenges an important presupposition in existing scholarship on the Neopythagorean treatises On Kingship, viz. that they were not meant to be innovative at all and merely had a repackaging function, summarising existing ideas with only a superficial Pythagorean colouring. In this article, I hope to show that this presupposition is not always justified and that a careful and detailed interpretation of the fragments, which pays due attention to the authors’ use of particular concepts and argumentative techniques, tells a different story.

2. Fragment 1: Diotogenes and the Homeric king

The first fragment opens with an emphasis on the close connection between kingship, justice and the law (p. 71.18–23 Thesleff).Footnote ¹⁶ This already provides a first illustration of Diotogenes’ subtle thinking and I shall deal with it extensively in due course (see section 4), because a correct understanding of this passage requires a better insight into Diotogenes’ heuristic strategies and authorial approach.

After this opening passage, Diotogenes distinguishes three main tasks of the king:

At first sight, these three tasks seem to be mere commonplaces which recur in many other authors as well.Footnote ¹⁷ Yet such parallels conceal as much as they reveal. For while we do have parallels for each of these activities, we do not find this threefold combination elsewhere in the same form. What still needs to be done, then, is to assess the theory as a whole and to see whether it is possible to find its origins.

A first key to a better understanding of this theory is the term δικασπολέν. This is a fairly rare term with a clear Homeric stamp. Homer himself uses the term twice. In Iliad 1, Agamemnon points out that the sceptre is held by the sons of the Achaeans who judge (υἷες Ἀχαιῶν … δικασπόλοι) and are guarding Zeus's laws (1.237–9), and in the Odyssey, Telemachus is once referred to as ‘a lawgiving man’ (δικασπόλον ἄνδρα, 11.186). The term also occurs in later poetic texts,Footnote ¹⁸ as a clear reminiscence of Homer, and is explained in the scholia on Homer. In the D-Scholia on Il. 1.238, the term δικασπόλοι is explained as ‘kings dealing with trials and laws’ (οἱ περὶ τὰς δίκας ἀναστρεφόμενοι βασιλεῖς καὶ νόμους).Footnote ¹⁹ All this suggests that Diotogenes deliberately uses the term δικασπολέν as a clear reminiscence of Homer, even more so since it occurs nowhere else in extant prose texts about political philosophy. An erudite ancient reader, then, would connect Diotogenes’ discussion of the king's tasks with the picture of the Homeric king. If that is true, this aspect of Diotogenes’ political thinking may well be ultimately rooted in Homeric exegesis rather than in the rich tradition of political philosophy.Footnote ²⁰

Now that the verb δικασπολεῖν has provided an interesting indication regarding Diotogenes’ source of inspiration, we may have a fresh look at the other two tasks of the king and examine whether these can also be related to the image of the Homeric king. This requires further study of the ancient scholia on Homer, which contain traces of a certain reflection on kingship. And it is hardly surprising that the two tasks mentioned by Diotogenes do indeed return in the scholia as well. That the king should be an excellent general is obvious of course in a Homeric context. After all, Homer characterises Agamemnon as ‘a good king and a strong spearman’ (βασιλεύς τ᾿ ἀγαθὸς κρατερός τ᾿ αἰχμητής, Il. 3.179) and several scholia in fact point out that kings need military qualities.Footnote ²¹ The most interesting for our purposes is schol. Il. 2.207a, where the task of controlling the army is considered one of the kingly tasks (βασιλικὰ ἔργα). The king's relation to the world of the gods receives no less attention in the scholia, which reflects the Homeric conviction that kingship is given by Zeus.Footnote ²² Just as Diotogenes regards the task of the king as serving the gods (θεραπεύειν θεώς), the scholia ad loc. interpret the characterisation ‘servants of Zeus’ (θεράποντε Διός) for Pelias and Neleus in Od. 11.255 as denoting kings.

All of these parallels seem to suggest that Diotogenes fashions his own ideal of the good king after the Homeric tradition. If that is indeed the case, we come across a distinctive approach that has no parallel whatsoever in the extant fragments from Sthenidas and Ecphantus and that yields several new conclusions.

Firstly, this fragment from Diotogenes gains importance for the rich reception history of Homer, as it adds a new example of ancient thinking about kingship by means of Homer. The above quoted parallels from the scholia on Homer do not yet reflect a systematic doctrine of kingship,Footnote ²³ but are usually given ad loc. and ad hoc. Yet they rest on the firm conviction that both the Iliad and the Odyssey contain several ideas that may be relevant for kings.Footnote ²⁴ Many passages are characterised in the scholia as interesting material for teaching (παιδευτικά), and occasionally the scholiast even makes it explicit that he is especially thinking of royal pupils (παιδευτικὰ πρὸς τοὺς βασιλέας, schol. Il. 16.387). In the later intellectual tradition, these exegetical observations were further elaborated and systematised, as is illustrated by works such as Philodemus’ On the Good King according to Homer, several speeches of Dio of PrusaFootnote ²⁵ and Porphyry's lost monumental work in ten books On the Benefit for Kings from Homer (Suda 4.178.27 Adler). These works should be understood against the background of an age-long tradition of political thinking. They combine elements of Plato's ideal of the philosopher-king with Aristotelian and Stoic material (or rely, in Philodemus’ case, on traditional Epicurean thoughts) and connect the resulting doctrine with carefully selected Homeric material. In that way, the different authors could use Homer as an important argumentum ex auctoritate for their own position.

Secondly, Diotogenes’ use of Homer is not only interesting in light of the tradition of ancient Homer exegesis but also illustrates his creative approach towards his own philosophical tradition. Scholarly research has shown that the Neopythagoreans were among the intellectual heirs of Plato's Academy. It was probably in the Academy that Pythagoras’ thinking was first introduced and brought into conformity with Plato's philosophy.Footnote ²⁶ In the later history of Platonism, the differences between the Platonic and the Pythagorean points of view were often hard to see, and the Neopythagoreans are now often even considered as Platonists.Footnote ²⁷ They developed their own ‘Pythagorean’ views by means of basically Platonic concepts and ideas, supplementing them with Aristotelian material.

As a matter of fact, we may well wonder whether Aristotle's influence can be felt in this fragment from Diotogenes as well. In the third book of his Politics, Aristotle distinguishes different forms of kingship. In his view, Homeric kingship consists of three principal components: the king had the authority in war, controlled all the sacrifices that were outside the scope of the priestly class, and passed judgement in law-suits (1285b9–11). In other terms, the king acted as a general (στρατηγός), a judge (δικαστής) and a master of ceremonies that had to do with the gods (τῶν πρὸς τοὺς θεοὺς κύριος, 1285b22–3). The parallel with Diotogenes is clear, and this indeed raises the obvious question as to whether we need Homer at all for our understanding of Diotogenes’ view of kingship. Is it not easier and more economic to regard Aristotle as Diotogenes’ direct source, rather than the tradition of Homeric exegesis?

On closer inspection, that would be too rash a conclusion, for the matter appears to be more complicated. After analysing the different kinds of kingship (heroic kingship, barbarian kingship, elective tyranny, Spartan kingship and absolute monarchy), Aristotle concludes that all these can fundamentally be reduced to two types, viz. the Spartan kingship and absolute monarchy (1285b33–5). These may be studied in further detail, whereas the other ones (including the Homeric variant) are left behind. Hence, precisely what Aristotle prefers to dismiss as less interesting for philosophical discussion, constitutes the core of Diotogenes’ conception of the ideal king. If Diotogenes does indeed take Aristotle's position into account, his reaction should be understood as a polemical one. In his view, Aristotle would then have made the wrong selection. Not Spartan kingship or absolute monarchy, but the Homeric ideal of kingship, deserves further discussion. Furthermore, Aristotle uses the much more common term δικαστής rather than the Homeric δικασπόλος. In that sense, Diotogenes’ reception of the Homeric conception of the king shows in any case more Homeric flavour than that of Aristotle, and presupposes a familiarity with Homer that could not be derived as such from Aristotle's discussion in Politics 3. We may conclude, then, that it is far from certain whether Diotogenes has ever read Aristotle and that, even if Aristotle's Politics was among Diotogenes’ sources, it was definitely not his only one.

The above analysis has shown that Diotogenes develops further traditional Academic thinking about the ideal ruler (ultimately rooted in Plato's ideal of the philosopher-king, enriched with Aristotelian elements) by connecting it with ideas gained from previous Homeric exegesis. This, however, is not the whole story. What has been neglected so far is the Pythagorean aspect of Diotogenes’ position. That is part and parcel of his theory as well, for we see that he takes care to give his more concrete elaboration of the king's three tasks a Pythagorean colour. The king's role as a general is clarified from the general perspective of the ruler's particular ‘system’ (σύσταμα):

The word σύσταμα is a key term that occurs repeatedly in other Neopythagorean thinkers as well,Footnote ²⁸ and it gives Diotogenes’ view a more Pythagorean touch. The king's duty as a judge also requires an imitation of God: just as God rules the universe, so the king will bring about harmony and leadership (ἁρμονίαν τε καὶ ἁγεμονίαν) in his kingdom (p. 72.9–14) – again a basic idea that reappears in other Neopythagoreans as well.Footnote ²⁹ Moreover, the notion of harmony plays an important part here. Of course, this concept was not a monopoly of the Pythagorean tradition – Platonists were fond of the term tooFootnote ³⁰ – but it is part and parcel of reconstructed Pythagorean thinking and could be recognised as such by the ancient reader. When dealing with the third task of the king, that is, his priestly function, Diotogenes returns to the same idea and elaborates it in terms that express the idea of proportion: the king has the same relation to the state as God has to the universe, and the state has the same relation to the universe as the king has to God (ἔχει δὲ καὶ ὡς θεὸς ποτὶ κόσμον βασιλεὺς ποτὶ πόλιν· καὶ ὡς πόλις ποτὶ κόσμον βασιλεὺς ποτὶ θεόν, p. 72.19–20):

$$\displaystyle{{{\rm \beta \alpha \sigma \iota \lambda \varepsilon} \acute{\rm \upsilon} {\rm \varsigma}} \over {{\rm \pi }{\acute {\rm o}}{\rm \lambda \iota \varsigma}}} = \displaystyle{{{\rm \theta \varepsilon} {\acute {\rm o}} {\rm \varsigma}} \over {{\rm \kappa }{\acute {\rm o}}{\rm \sigma \mu o\varsigma}}} \quad {\rm and}\,\quad \displaystyle{{{\rm \pi} {\acute {\rm o}} {\rm \lambda \iota \varsigma}} \over {{\rm \kappa} {\acute {\rm o}}{\rm \sigma \mu o\varsigma}}} {\rm}={\rm } \displaystyle{{{\rm \beta \alpha \sigma \iota \lambda \varepsilon }{\acute {\rm \upsilon}} {\rm \varsigma}} \over {{\rm \theta \varepsilon} {\acute {\rm o}}{\rm \varsigma}}} $$

Once again, a traditional idea is thus rephrased in a way that suggests a Pythagorean approach informed by mathematical interests, although it should be added that the way proportion is here invoked by Diotogenes has no distinctively Pythagorean edge to it (no numerical ratios, for instance, nor even any numbers). All in all, then, Pythagorean colouring can be found throughout the fragment, although it is not developed into substantive Pythagorean ideas that are distinct from what can be found in other philosophical traditions.

The question remains whether this Pythagorean input comes from Diotogenes himself or whether it could already be found in an earlier tradition. An interesting scholion on Il. 1.339–40a suggests that the Pythagorean tradition was also incorporated in ancient Homeric exegesis. The commentator points out that Homer before the Pythagoreans already regarded the kingly nature as an intermediate nature, placed between men and God. This piece of Homeric scholarship obviously presumes a Pythagorean theory of monarchy that is very much in line with the position of Diotogenes. The problem is that we are uncertain about the date of the scholion: the possibility cannot be ruled out that it should be traced back to Porphyry's Homeric studies,Footnote ³¹ but the learned Porphyry was probably familiar with age-old insights. Whether Diotogenes was heir to these traditional insights or rather helped to create them must in the end remain an open question.

However that may be, the whole passage provides a telling illustration of creative political thinking that refigures Platonic-Academic and Aristotelian material in the light of traditional Homeric exegesis and ‘Pythagorean’ elements. These different components are harmoniously combined and together make up a new theory that can claim the authoritative support of an age-old intellectual tradition and yet, as will become clear below, is far from fossilised or outdated.

3. Fragment 2: Diotogenes and political pragmatism

In the second, longer, fragment, Diotogenes expatiates upon the king's virtues and moral qualities. It opens as follows:

The king, then, should control his pursuit of pleasure (p. 72.25–8) and his greed (pp. 72.29–73.1). His rule should rest on his virtue (p. 73.1–4), and he can only be a model for his subjects if he has first set his own character right. Again, we are here dealing with traditional ideas. Many parallels can be found in later authorsFootnote ³² and in literature Περὶ βασιλείας, and most of the ideas also occur in the scholia on Homer.Footnote ³³ But in this case as well, such single parallels fail to do justice to the peculiarity of Diotogenes’ political philosophy.

In this fragment, we also find a trichotomy, with Diotogenes now listing the three major qualities of the king:

The king should thus be dignified (σεμνός), kind (χρηστός), and able to inspire fear in his subjects (δεινός). So here too we come across a coherent doctrine of which the three basic components are first introduced (p. 73.23–8) and then further elaborated (pp. 73.28–75.16).Footnote ³⁴ These repeated systematic trichotomies show Diotogenes’ pointedly pedagogical approach. His argument is very well structured, with clear introductions, elaborations and final conclusions. He really takes his reader by the hand and efficiently guides him through the different steps of his argument. This observation raises the question of Diotogenes’ intended readership. That, however, is a complicated issue. Some scholars consider his treatise On Kingship as an esoteric text or a kind of handbook ‘designed to fill a gap in the Pythagorean library, to complete the canon’.Footnote ³⁵ From such a perspective, Diotogenes’ fondness for systematisation reflects a scholastic approach. His clarity is that of the schoolteacher. Others regard the work as exoteric.Footnote ³⁶ Diotogenes would then rather address an audience of inexpert readers (or even kings) in an attempt to introduce them to his Pythagorean philosophy. No compelling arguments can be adduced to decide on this question.Footnote ³⁷

The three main qualities of the king can to a certain extent be connected to his three principal tasks. His dignity (σεμνότης) is regarded as a godlike thing (θεόμιμον πρᾶγμα, p. 73.28) and as such recalls Diotogenes’ insistence of the king's imitation of God and his priestly function. His kindliness (χρηστότης) should be based on justice and mildness (p. 74.20–1), which recalls his task as a judge. Finally, his capacity to inspire fear (δεινότης) makes him terrible and invincible (ἀνίκατον) to his enemies (p. 74.2–3), which of course contributes to his task as a general. Nevertheless, these correspondences do not reveal a simple one-to-one relationship, since the three qualities will presumably prove useful for all the three tasks. They should be understood primarily as the necessary conditions on which the king's credibility and efficiency as a good example for his subjects are based. In that sense, Diotogenes does not confine himself to general theoretical ideals about the king's virtue, but also attempts to examine the presuppositions of these ideals and the way in which they can be realised. Thus, he again adopts an original approach within the extant tradition of Neopythagorean political thinking.Footnote ³⁸ In this fragment in particular, he appears as an open-minded thinker with a keen eye for the concrete demands of political life.Footnote ³⁹

Indeed, one of Diotogenes’ most important sources of inspiration for this theory may well have been his familiarity with the career of prominent political leaders from the rich Greek history. Illustrative examples easily come to mind: Pericles, for instance, according to Plutarch, combined reasonableness and gentleness with a dignified behaviour (Per. 39.1), so that the Athenians came to the conclusion that there had never been a character more moderate in dignity and more dignified (σεμνότερον) in mildness (39.3). We may also think of Demetrius, whose bodily features showed a kingly dignity (βασιλικὴ σεμνότης) and whose character was naturally fitted to inspire both fear and grace (τὸ ἦθος ἐπεφύκει πρὸς ἔκπληξιν ἀνθρώπων ἅμα καὶ χάριν, Demetr. 2.3). Examples can easily be multiplied.Footnote ⁴⁰ Although Diotogenes nowhere mentions such famous statesmen in his extant fragments, these parallels at least show that his political thinking is relevant for the ruler and need not be at odds with the particular difficulties which a politician has to face. Add to this that dignity, kindliness and the capacity to inspire fear are political qualities rather than cardinal virtues. All this suggests that Diotogenes prefers practicable doctrines to abstract theoretical speculations.Footnote ⁴¹

Such a provisional conclusion is further corroborated by other passages in this fragment. Diotogenes, for instance, recommends that the ruler be neither harsh nor contemptible (p. 73.21–2), a delicate balance that does not reflect an Aristotelian mean but rather well-balanced political soberness. Or again, the king's dignity should show not arrogance (ὑπεραφανίαν) but greatness of mind (μεγαλοφροσύναν) (p. 74.11), a passage which Tarn even interpreted as a veiled allusion to Demetrius Poliorcetes.Footnote ⁴² Although Tarn's interpretation is built on sand and failed to convince later scholars,Footnote ⁴³ it remains an interesting indicator of the more general practical orientation of this fragment. All in all, Diotogenes’ reflections here seem to come closer to the world of the experienced politician who is involved in complicated public affairs than to that of Plato's philosopher-king.

The same holds true for Diotogenes’ remarkable position towards the king's greediness (πλεονεκτία). From a philosophical perspective, such striving for wealth is of course to be strongly rejected as a motivation for a political career. But from the point of view of a politician, such a rigid position was no doubt less evident and we may well presume that many basically agreed with the view of Stratocles and Dromocleides and entered politics as a way to a ‘golden harvest’ (Plut. Prae. ger. reip. 798e–f). Diotogenes does not ignore this tendency and tries to rationalise it in this passage by arguing that the king needs his possessions in order to benefit his friends, help those in need and avenge himself upon his enemies (p. 72.30–1). He even goes so far as to say that greediness concerns the leading part of the soul, since desire is rational (ἁ μὲν γὰρ πλεονεκτία γίνεται περὶ τὸ ἁγούμενον μέρος τᾶς ψυχᾶς, λογικὰ γὰρ ἁ ἐπιθυμία, p. 73.10–11). Goodenough comments:

This is absolutely true, and to make things even worse, nothing suggests that Diotogenes is here thinking of a desire for learning or that he recommends for the king ‘to express his avarice in intellectual greed’.Footnote ⁴⁵ Nor should we suppose that his view reflects such a degree of philosophical ignorance that could only be expected from an utter ignoramus. It rather characterises, once again, Diotogenes as a philosopher who does not force the facts in order to fit them with his own theories, but rather prefers to conform his philosophical views to the facts. Confronted with greedy kings, Diotogenes does indeed make the best of a bad job, and we may add that his view is quite creative and ingenious. For while Goodenough is basically correct to underscore the diametrical opposition between λογική and ἐπιθυμία, Diotogenes’ position need not be a massive affront to good philosophy if we read it not as a declaration about desire categorically but as one about this particular species of desire, that is, the greedy or – to use a somewhat less negative term – acquisitive desire for a larger share of material goods than the next person. In fact, it does not seem completely bizarre to claim that such a desire has a calculating component to it, and so is not in the same category as the blind urge to pleasure. Thus this striking passage illustrates how far Diotogenes is prepared to go in rationalising a posteriori the morally problematic behaviour of kings. We are indeed on the verge of a philosophy that no longer intends to change the king's vices but only to explain them away. Before formulating definitive conclusions about this aspect of Diotogenes’ thinking, however, we need to return to the beginning of the first fragment.

4. The opening of fragment 1: weaving the different threads together

So far, we have seen how Diotogenes developed an innovative view within the Platonic-Academic and Pythagorean tradition by making use of insights borrowed from previous Homeric exegesis, and how he also managed to take into account the concrete reality of political life – how, in other words, he combined theoretical erudition with sober-minded pragmatism. At this point, we are ready to turn to the opening section of fragment 1, where, as we saw above, Diotogenes underscores the connection between kingship, justice and the law. On closer inspection, however, Diotogenes’ argument is not immediately evident:

Diotogenes begins by stating that the most lawful would be the most just, and that the latter would be the king (p. 71.18–20). The double use of the optative (κ᾿ εἴη and ἂν εἴη) here suggests a normative perspective rather than a neutral description of facts. This, then, we may presume, is the philosopher speaking. In the next sentence, this philosophical ideal is further explained (μὲν γάρ): justice is in the law and the law brings about justice, whereas the king is either Animate Law (νόμος ἔμψυχος) or a legal ruler (νόμιμος ἄρχων). Therefore (διὰ ταῦτ’) the king is most just and most lawful (p. 71.20–3). The descriptive indicatives (ἐντί … ἐντι …) have now replaced the optatives, and this marks (or masks) a subtle transition. The previous normative perspective now gains further support from what is presented as an apparently straightforward description of real life. Yet this blurring of the distinction between a philosophical normative and a political descriptive position does not deserve an award for logically stringent reasoning. What is going on here?

A possible solution is that Stobaeus has shortened Diotogenes’ argument and thus slightly changed its argumentative pattern. This alternative should not be dismissed too easily, for we know that Stobaeus was not afraid of rewriting and subtly changing the text of his source.Footnote ⁴⁶ Moreover, traces of more significant omissions can be detected elsewhere in Diotogenes’ fragments too.Footnote ⁴⁷ Stobaeus’ editorial activity, then, may also account for Diotogenes’ awkward argumentation at the beginning of fragment 1, although such an hypothesis cannot be proven and should in my view only be used when no other explanation is available.

Yet in this case, there is perhaps room for an alternative explanation. We may be dealing with a subtle strategy of Diotogenes, used to mediate between a philosophical perspective and political reality. Diotogenes here explicitly mentions the doctrine of the ‘Animate Law’ (νόμος ἔμψυχος). This well-known theory has its ultimate roots in fourth-century political thinkingFootnote ⁴⁸ and was quickly picked up in political circles. Arrian relates how Anaxarchus tried to console Alexander after the murder of Cleitus by reminding him of the view of old sages, who made justice sit by Zeus's throne since anything decided upon by Zeus should be considered just.Footnote ⁴⁹ The moral of the story is clear of course: anything Alexander has done (even murdering his friend) is to be regarded as just, precisely because he is the king. The potential dangers of this view are obvious of course. A ruler who is no longer accountable for his deeds can do whatever he likes: he is ἀνυπεύθυνος.Footnote ⁵⁰ This opens the door to arbitrary rule and abuse of power, as Arrian also realised.Footnote ⁵¹

If Diotogenes’ odd argument at the outset of fragment 1 is seen against this background, we may again detect a clever strategy of approving ideas and ideals shared by politicians while subtly reorienting them towards a more philosophical perspective. Moreover, the philosophical perspective comes first and thus sets the tone. The initial emphasis indeed is on justice and the law, as the use of the article also shows: the idea is not that the king determines justice but that the most just (ὁ δικαιότατος, with article) would be king (βασιλεύς, predicative, without article). Only after Diotogenes has underlined this philosophical, normative perspective, does he (deceptively) smoothly connect it with the current political view.Footnote ⁵² In this way, the potential dangers of the doctrine of the king as ‘Animate Law’ are at least partly neutralised (and at the same time disguised by an unproblematising and straightforward διὰ ταῦτα). Tellingly enough, this entails a different use of the article: whereas the starting point of Diotogenes’ argument, as we have just seen, is that the most just (ὁ δικαιότατος) would be king (βασιλεύς), the conclusion now is that the king (ὁ βασιλεύς, with article) is most just and lawful (δικαιότατος καὶ νομιμώτατος, without article). What started as a high-minded philosophical argument ends in a subtle legitimation of the king.

Thus we find in this opening section a new example of Diotogenes’ interest in current political praxis, an interest that also became apparent in fragment 2. Here too, Diotogenes was not content with drawing up philosophical theories in vacuo but kept in mind political reality. Do we also find a trace of the rich tradition of Homeric exegesis that was important in the rest of fragment 1? This is suggested by an interesting parallel from Dionysius of Halicarnassus that has hitherto been overlooked. In book 5 of his Roman Antiquities, Dionysius tells how the Greek cities were originally ruled by kings. These kings, however, observed the laws, and he who was most just and who best observed the laws was the best king (κράτιστος ἦν βασιλεὺς ὁ δικαιότατός τε καὶ νομιμώτατος, 5.74.1). The similarities with Diotogenes’ phrasing, including the strategic use of the article, are striking indeed. Dionysius then continues: this appears from Homer, who calls kings δικασπόλους – again the key term, in the context of a ‘Homeric theory’ of kingship. These parallels, in my view, are too strong to be pure coincidence. Of course, the condensed fragment from Diotogenes offers too little context to allow for elaborate speculative hypotheses, but given this conspicuous parallel with Dionysius of Halicarnassus, the possibility cannot be ruled out that Diotogenes’ argument at the beginning of fragment 1 was not only conditioned by his concern for political praxis but also inspired by his familiarity with traditional Homeric exegesis.