Access to major political and military office, the archonship, previously restricted by convention to a limited group of families, the Eupatridae (the 'well born'), was to be determined by -wealth in land. All
Athenians were divided into four classes. To the top class or classes went the top offices, to the lowest, the thetes, only membership of the assembly, with consequent judicial influence. So far as can be judged
the potential number of 'those with power' was doubled-no mean change.
If there is a note of cynicism in this account of Solon, it is introduced only to remind that Solon was, and had to be, a practising politician, that he was not a sage of moderation called down from Olympus to
settle Athens' ills, but a shrewd operator and a radical thinker, a very good and brave man who gave Athenians a chance of peaceful change which, as we shall see, they did not immediately take.
Revolution is rarely in itself a pleasant thing. Even without violence some nice people and nice things tend to get upset. It is comforting that Greek revolutions on the whole led to pleasant things. Under
Cypselus and his son Periander Corinth extended and tightened her colonial enterprise, while Corinthian potters and painters made very pretty pots; in Athens a later awakening produced a more startling
wakefulness (again reflected for us mainly in the arts) while the liberated share-cropper made the most of his 16-per-cent relief; even in Sparta an imported poet, Alcman (below, pp. 107 f.), talked happily of
days, and nights, of pleasure by the banks of the river Eurotas. The distasteful martial spirit of Tyrtaeus was forgotten when Alcman wrote of food, admittedly not elegant food, of wines, and of girls who 'cast
glances that are more melting than sleep or death'.
But, as Greeks were fond of saying, though they said it more gracefully, one can have too much of a good thing. Corinthians who had followed Cypselus could not see why they should follow his son or his
descendants. Periander's successor was expelled, and Corinth lapsed into an undistinguished oligarchy. Spartans were so pleased with themselves that they turned to further expansion. Some leisure and some
freedom made Athenians lust for more of both. The results were gradual decline for Corinth (very gradual-she was always there to be reckoned with), a chequered domination for Sparta, and ultimately
democracy in Athens.
Ultimate democracy; first there was a half-century of intermittent tyranny. Solon had refused the role of tyrant and had hoped to inoculate Athenian society against the disease; a young supporter, worse still a
relative, proved to be infected and after two trial runs put himself firmly in charge in 546, to be succeeded by his sons after his death in 528. It is not easy to say why Pisistratus was able to establish himself with
popular goodwill. Attica had been divided between those who lived around the coast, land that might be generating new wealth in the shape of olive oil, and the outback, rich enough, but far from the centre of
things. Pisistratus, though as blue-blooded as any, came from and led the outback. What made it possible? Were his clients in the plain of Marathon producing better oil? Were some of them beginning to exploit
the rich silver deposits at Attica's south-east corner? Was there, as a result of economic development or just for its own sake, a feeling that further parts might reach for the centre?
However it came about, it is arguable that a generation of tyranny did more to encourage Athenians towards the three goals mentioned above, national unity, local pride, and individual dignity, than would a
continuing adherence to Solonian constitutionalism. Attention was attracted to the city of Athens, not only by the fact that power now rested there, but by public works, temples, fountain-houses, even drains,
which made it seem a worthy seat of power, by fostering the cult of the goddess Athena, patroness of Athens and (Pisistratus liked to claim) of Pisistratus himself, by the encouragement or creation of national
festivals and games: the Panathenaea, at which (shrewd advertising) the prizes were jars of Attic olive oil; the Dionysia, where first moves were made towards one of Athens' greatest creations, the drama.
Local pride needed no encouragement, but at least the central authority could show that it cared: a panel of itinerant judges was established to settle local disputes, previously in the hands, no doubt, of the local
aristocrat. And it is in and around the standing of these aristocrats that lies the solution of the paradox that an autocrat, a tyrant, could, in fact, promote individual freedom and individual dignity.
Solon had opened government to new men, but had done nothing positive to diminish the aristocrat at local level, beyond robbing him of legalized mastery over the poorer around him. Now he had either died in
the last battle against Pisistratus or thought it prudent to go into exile or, even if he stayed, knew that he had to acknowledge the existence of someone more powerful than himself. Thus the rest either lost their
master or realized that he did not matter so much as before. To change allegiance from one master to another may not seem to us a momentous step, but it is the first step towards a sense of being one's own
master.