Only two articles in the past century have attempted reconstructions of this play: Gilbert Norwood in 1930 conjectured a basis in tragic burlesque, specifically a parody of Aeschylus’ Edoni, due largely to the presence of Dionysus and a chorus of Babylonians.Footnote 1 An entirely different plot was proposed in 1983 by David Welsh, who took as his starting point Herodotus’ account of the fall of Babylon; he thought that the chorus, envisioned as a group of refugees from the Persian empire, reflected the recent arrival in Athens of the grandson of the Persian primarily credited with the capture of Babylon.Footnote 2 Though commentators on Aristophanic comedy and politics often affect to be on firm footing about this play, the total dissimilarity of these two reconstructions actually highlights our ignorance.Footnote 3
I do not mean to offer here a full reconstruction, but simply to suggest a general theme and thereby to reopen discussion of this important play. I also will not be using the better known fragments of the play, as they have already been treated by competent scholars.Footnote 4 Instead, I shall focus on a nexus of themes and characters which I hope will cast light on this play from an entirely new angle.
The central question that has dogged interpretation and reconstruction of this play is the identity of the chorus – why Babylonians? I agree with Welsh that the chorus must be actual Babylonians, and not just eastern followers of Dionysus (as Norwood supposed). I further propose that they find themselves assigned to service in the Athenian military forces, most likely the navy; they then endure the ancient equivalent of boot camp under some crustily traditional soldier figure and receive instruction with absurd results on how to swim, row a trireme, march in ranks, or whatever else might be comically apt.Footnote 5 We know that Aristophanes brought a chorus of Babylonians into Athens; we do not know the circumstances surrounding their coming to Athens, and while that is fascinating food for speculation,Footnote 6 it is not of central importance here. Rather, my concern will be to describe approximately what happened to them once they had arrived there, and to show that this comic treatment of Babylonians is possible and appropriate for the Athenian theatre of this period. Such a portrayal would be an Aristophanic fantasy, not a specific reflection of Babylonian activity in Attica, and so support for its comic plausibility must be sought elsewhere. To that end, I will examine dramatic parallels, the figure of Dionysus and relevant fragments of the play itself that suggest a militaristic or naval theme. But first, a reassessment of the chorus.
Little is known about the Athenian attitude toward Babylonians specifically, since they appear only rarely in Greek literature of this period;Footnote 7 but generally speaking, the democratic Athenians had a low estimation of the various nations subject to the Persian empire.Footnote 8 Aristophanes’ Babylonians seem to have been outfitted as slaves – either real slaves or figurative ones by virtue of living under the rule of the great king.Footnote 9 It would be very like Aristophanes to concretize that metaphor for dramatic effect, and it is unlikely that this would have hindered the audience's understanding of the action: to represent Babylonians, who were considered to be slaves in all but name, as actual slaves would have constituted a vivid depiction of an already self-evident truth.
Furthermore, the usual eastern stereotypes may be applied to Babylonians without difficulty: luxury, softness, effeminacy, cowardice – all very un-Athenian traits, and ones that would make Babylonians particularly ill-suited to the rigours of military or naval life. Rowing a trireme would seem especially fearsome to characters displaying these weaknesses; Frogs 196–270 addresses the physicality of the task in Dionysus’ reluctant journey to the underworld under the stern captaincy of Charon, and Knights 785 makes a similar point as the Sausage-seller offers Demos a cushion to ease his soreness from rowing at Salamis. Eupolis’ Taxiarchs (discussed below) also features a soft Dionysus learning how to row. The stereotypical Babylonian, as I have reconstructed him, would clearly be uncomfortable in such a role.Footnote 10
While the complexity of the Athenian reaction to Persian culture is appropriately stressed in Miller's important study, she still acknowledges Athens’ ideological bias; indeed, in the very first paragraph of her introduction she states that ‘by the end of the fifth century the word barbaros usually denoted an inhabitant of the Persian Empire, and connoted cowardice, weakness and effeminacy. Supporting evidence can be found in the rhetoric of the theatre and the assembly, as well as in art’.Footnote 11 The same man might easily listen with approval to (for example) a chauvinistic drama or a rousing pro-Athens assembly speech while also enjoying aspects of Achaemenid culture. This paper's portrayal of Persia is admittedly one-dimensional, but it reflects a similar flatness in Greek comedy.
It is significant that in all probability Babylonians were stereotyped as effeminate and cowardly, for these negative qualities are also regularly part of Dionysus’ characterization in ancient drama as a tender, girlish youth loath to engage in hard toil or bloody combat. Comedy especially takes advantage of his softer side in a manner often startling to modern audiences. The passage of Frogs cited above is a case in point, and several other examples may be adduced from that play: Dionysus’ childish imitations of the courage and manliness of his brother Heracles, his frequent scapegoating of his slave Xanthias, his failure to hold up under Aeacus’ blows. Dionysus appears in our play as well (fr. 75), and as he is often stereotyped in a fashion similar to what would be expected for Babylonians, we may use him as a template of sorts for establishing the proper role of the chorus. It would not be unreasonable to imagine him portrayed in Babylonians in the way he usually is in comedy,Footnote 12 and more specifically as an inept rower; in fact, this precise theme also occurs in at least two other plays of the fifth century: Aristophanes’ Frogs (which has already been extensively cited) and Eupolis’ lost Taxiarchs, in which Dionysus is apparently taught, without marked success, τοὺς τῶν στρατηγῶν καὶ πολέμων νόμους (Σ Peace 347)Footnote 13 by Phormio, the general who directed naval operations in the Gulf of Corinth in 429, only three years before Babylonians was produced. Phormio's name comes up again in the fragments of Babylonians (fr. 88), and there may be lines of influence between this play and Taxiarchs.Footnote 14 Whatever the case, Frogs and Taxiarchs together provide sound parallels for Dionysus as a bungling would-be sailor and suggest that it may even have been a common topos in comedy. Further, we may well believe that the Babylonian chorus was deployed in like fashion, considering their probable similarity to Dionysus in terms of characterization and stereotype.
If Dionysus’ qualifications as a comic sailor have been established, the same must be attempted for the Babylonian chorus. It has already been noted that mention of Babylon is uncommon in fifth-century literature; the only other occurrences in drama are Aristophanes’ Birds 552 (cf. the parodic description of Cloudcuckooland at 1124–31) and Aeschylus’ Persians 52–5. The former is of little use here, but the latter provides a dramatic parallel of somewhat different flavour:Footnote 15
The first point to notice about this passage is simply the fact of Babylonians on boats, which shows that my conception of Aristophanes’ play is not inherently implausible and allows the connection between two major portions of our evidence: the Babylonian chorus and the prevalence of naval themes in the surviving fragments (discussed below).
Next, the phrases ναῶν ἐπόχους and τοξουλκῶι λήματι πιστούς may be interpreted as describing the same people. We would then render 52–5 thus: ‘Babylon sent a motley crew (consisting of people) both carried on ships and trusting in their bows’.Footnote 17 In this case, it would be difficult to avoid the conclusion that these particular Babylonians are not rowers or sailors in the usual sense, but deck archersFootnote 18 whose task is to harass enemy rowers with their bows, as well as to shoot swimming foes as they emerge from wrecked vessels.Footnote 19 In an Aristophanic world, few things could better suit the combined ideas of eastern cowardice and softness – his Babylonians would excel at killing the helpless and vulnerable but lack all experience in rowing or hand-to-hand fighting, which would make their comic retraining all the more outrageous. On the other hand, if ναῶν ἐπόχους indicates that Aeschylus’ Babylonians are land-based archers who happen to be transported to Susa by ship, then Aristophanes’ play might take advantage of both the Babylonians’ comfort with a ‘cowardly’ way of fighting (i.e. archery) and their unfamiliarity with fighting on shipboard.
Edith HallFootnote 20 suspects that Aeschylus does not really know much about Babylon or the eastern reaches of the Persian empire, which might detract from the value of this passage in reconstructing Aristophanes’ play. On the other hand, it may be that Aeschylus is giving voice to a current Athenian view, or even establishing the stereotype himself. If so, then this passage is one of our only sources specifically to illustrate the Athenian perception of Babylonians (whether or not that perception was based on truth). If Babylonians actually were generally conceived as archers rather than sailors or marines, this fact would have interesting implications for the fragments and the manner in which Aristophanes handled that dichotomy.
I have connected both Dionysus and Babylonians with naval contexts, a link which is variously paralleled in both comedy and tragedy. The fragments of Babylonians also broadly support this theme, as several deal with some sort of maritime activity, and a handful of others suggest martial doings more generally. It is my proposal that Aristophanes redeployed his Babylonians (perhaps previously stereotyped as archers) as rowers and marines in the Athenian navy:Footnote 21
Martial theme:
Naval theme:Footnote 22
The one-word fragment ἁλυκόν (93) also belongs to this latter category, and the fact that Phormio was mentioned somewhere in this play (88) is likely to be significant for both military and naval themes; he seems to have been one of those rare men only ever spoken of in favourable terms, even by the comic poets, who typically termed him something of a soldier's soldier.Footnote 23 This would make him an ideal foil to an unwarlike protagonist and/or chorus.Footnote 24 Consider, for example, Peace 346–8, where the chorus sings of past hardships endured alongside Phormio:
A scholion on line 347 links Phormio to Taxiarchs as a teacher of τοὺς τῶν στρατηγῶν καὶ πολέμων νόμους, while that on 348 informs us of his connection with Babylonians. Of the fragments listed above, 72 and 76 in particular are easy to fit into a training scene with Phormio (or a Phormio-like figure) and his new troops; here they sound like hoplites (marines?). Fragments like 80, while vague, still support the notion of naval activity as a general theme.
It might be worth considering whether, given the singular imperative in fragment 85 versus the plural in fragment 72, only Dionysus was a rower, while the Babylonians were actually marines and received land-based training.Footnote 25 This would allowed Aristophanes to represent a variety of misadventures without repetition while at the same time keeping the experiences of Dionysus and the chorus coherent: both are required to serve on ships, though in different capacities, and even that difference could be exploited as each in turn fails to live up to the standard. Attractive though this hypothesis is, I do not find it necessary, and not only because the singular imperative in fragment 76 throws the dichotomy awry. In some situations, a chorus may be addressed in the singular,Footnote 26 and in any event, singular imperatives might be directed at the individual choristers or at Dionysus as a member or leader of the larger group; thus, we cannot simply associate every singular imperative with Dionysus alone. And while the distinction between land- and sea-based training should be noted, for the purposes of comedy, the otherwise disparate experiences of rowers, archers and marines might be included within the same broad theme of ‘naval training’. It is easy to imagine a sequence in which Phormio, growing increasingly frustrated with his pupils, asks them to demonstrate ever simpler skills (e.g. from rowing to marching to shooting) in a desperate attempt to find something that they can do right.
At this point, my main argument is complete, and what follows is meant to be an exercise in imagination rather than a presentation of proof. If my thesis is considered with a good will, then other fragments invite further speculation:
The possibility of placing the first two in a scene involving incompetent soldier-sailors is plain. They may have been uttered by Dionysus or the chorus, or by Phormio, depending on just what sort of scenario we envision, though the details are beyond our reach. στοίχους in fr. 81 could fall in various contexts, but a relation to marching or rowing ranks would be suitable.Footnote 27 The occurrence of the word ὁρκοτομεῖν (98) could indicate some sort of oath of friendship or alliance, perhaps on the part of the Persian king,Footnote 28 or of loyalty by the new recruits. If we prefer to imagine the Babylonians as actual (rather than figurative) slaves, then the breaking of whatever oath this fragment represents might be enough to see them tattooed and sent to a mill.Footnote 29 Several unplaced fragments have also been suggested as belonging to Babylonians; the most interesting for our discussion is 650:Footnote 30
The fetters immediately evoke a slave, with the wicker shield as part of his assigned military gear; according to Herodotus (7.61), the Persians carried wicker shields with their quivers hung beneath.Footnote 31 Without a context like the one I have suggested for Babylonians, it might be difficult to comprehend why a man in chains should be allowed to carry a shield, or how he could be expected to fight while wearing fetters. The chains, symbolic as they are of eastern slavishness, quite concretely make the point that Babylonians by their very nature cannot fight.
Whether or not we accept these additional speculations, the link between Dionysus and Babylonians as stereotypical easterners, between Dionysus and naval themes, and between Babylonians and naval themes, suggests that the presence of all three of those items in one play is too much for coincidence. It is reasonable to conclude that they were all connected somehow in the plot of Babylonians.
A maritime or martial theme is no great surprise in and of itself, given that at the time of performance, Athens was in her fifth year of war with Sparta, yet the prominence of this theme in a collection of fragments that otherwise appears quite haphazard is striking. There is no way of knowing how widely the fragments were distributed throughout the play, but since most of them are quoted merely to illustrate a point of vocabulary or usage, we are justified in regarding them as randomly selected. Therefore, while it would be hazardous to use them all in a detailed reconstruction of one specific scene, we can conclude that they point to some of the play's larger concerns and dynamics.
In light of the foregoing discussion, I conclude with brief consideration of a further point. I have understood Aristophanes’ combination of Babylonians and the Athenian navy as a fantasy, a reductio ad absurdum for the sake of humour and perhaps as a commentary on recent recruiting practices (the acceptance of slaves and/or foreigners). But this play's greatest claim to fame is that it occasioned a lawsuit against the poet by the politician Cleon, apparently for casting Athens in a negative light in the presence of allied ambassadors attending the City Dionysia.Footnote 32 The suit in question was a serious one – the same was used for cases of treason – and we should not dismiss it too hastily as merely an irate reaction to ad hominem attacks. In the fifth century, there appear to have been few official restrictions on the type of accusation that could be made under εἰσαγγελία, but presumably the council ‘would be unwilling to listen unless the matter concerned the safety and welfare of the whole community, and they would not accept any case for which the law prescribed some other procedure’.Footnote 33 Though I would not deny the possibility of personal resentment as a motivation for Cleon's suit, I would argue that he needed a more concrete reason for bringing an εἰσαγγελία in order to be credible. Given the sensitive nature of Athens’ relations with her allies, it may be that Cleon was responding more to the political implications of a comic treatment of the Athenian navy in the presence of those allies.Footnote 34 The navy remained a source of pride throughout the war and key to the survival of the Athenian empire;Footnote 35 if Babylonians made a mockery of Athenian naval capabilities, this could have been seen as a dangerous provocation of allies who were already itching for revolt, and perhaps seemed sufficient justification for legal action.Footnote 36