4.1.1 The Skourta and Mazi Plains

Despite the difference in habitation and settlement patterns, the Mazi and Skourta plains are analysed together because interventions in these plains frequently took on a similar character.

The Mazi Archaeological Project demonstrated that the plain was suitable for viniculture and possessed fertile agricultural and pastoral lands.Footnote ²⁶ Dominating the plain were the settlements of Eleutherai and the Athenian deme Oinoe of the Hippothontic tribe. The nucleus around Eleutherai and Oinoe formed the core of the settlements, with secondary hamlets and komai spread around them, similar to what we see in Acharnai.Footnote ²⁷ This situation evolved more extensively in the fourth century. Eleutherai grew into an impressive town with a substantial size, whereas Oinoe possibly became the largest deme in Athens in terms of surface area.Footnote ²⁸ The roots of both settlements can only be retraced to the last quarter of the sixth century, based on inscriptional evidence, in contrast to the scant archaeological material.Footnote ²⁹

The Skourta plain witnessed less permanent occupation, as the survey by Munn and Munn-Zimmermann showed.Footnote ³⁰ At the end of the fifth century, but most certainly by the second half of the fourth century, smaller, secondary hamlets and farmhouses started to appear around the edges of the plain. Earlier traces of occupation were found at the site of later fortresses, such as Panakton and Phyle, yet these did not pre-date the late sixth or mid-fifth century. It was on account of its fertile lands that the plain was an enviable stretch of land. If the area known as Drymos was located close to the plain, arboriculture may have played a significant role too. However, its precise location has been debated. Other habitational forms took the shape of farmsteads, located around the edges of the plain.Footnote ³¹

The Skourta plain is the highest extensive area of cultivable land within the Kithairon-Parnes mountain range, at an average elevation of just over 530 meters. The basin is located between the summits of the mountains that bookmark the range separating Attica from Boiotia. It is wider than it is long: approximately twelve kilometres wide from east to west and about four kilometres north to south. The plain is surrounded by mountains, creating a natural defensive mechanism against intruders, while isolating it from areas such as the Parasopia to the north(west) or the Eleusinian plains to the south. The shortest route between Athens and Thebes passed through the plain, which was often taken by travellers.Footnote ³²

This is a markedly different habitat from the Mazi plain.Footnote ³³ This small valley is located between the Kithairon and Pateras mountain ranges, but lies lower and is better connected with roads to Athens, the Megarid and Thebes. A natural route to Boiotia goes through the gully at the Kaza pass, linking the Mazi plain to the Parasopia. The Mazi plain was located at the crossroads of interregional traffic, since major arteries between the Megarid, Attica and Boiotia lay across it.Footnote ³⁴ The combination of fertile lands and valuable thoroughfares created two enclaves of highly valuable districts lodged in between Attica and Boiotia.

Despite the appearance of various military structures around these plains, their strategic value was limited.Footnote ³⁵ These towers and forts were refuges for the population, or could be used as advanced scouting structures to locate oncoming hostile forces.Footnote ³⁶ Their placement was related less to military considerations, such as confronting invading armies, and more to economic ones. Dominating the roads allowed for taxes to be levied on travellers importing goods, and fortifications protected those working the fertile lands around the settlement.Footnote ³⁷ These fortified buildings ensured some form of control over these plains. When the entire plains were under control of one party, then routes between one place and another could be controlled.Footnote ³⁸

Besides Athenian and Theban interest, the Mazi plain also attracted the Megarians. A recent find from Thebes attests to this interest. The Tanagraians had stakes in the Skourta plain, just like their Theban and Athenian neighbours, as Albert Schachter has shown.Footnote ³⁹

Demographically, the plains had their own unique pattern of growth. Attestations of Bronze Age occupation were found in the Mazi plain survey, but subsequent periods saw a decline in population and settlements.Footnote ⁴⁰ There is a possible Geometric occupation of the Mazi plain, but the ceramic evidence points to a rather small population, if there was permanent habitation at all. Early Archaic pottery has been found, but only at the Cave of Antiope.Footnote ⁴¹ This is a cave steeped in mythological tradition, intimately tied with Theban foundation legends.Footnote ⁴² On account of its mythological importance, the cave may have attracted people from further afield who came to worship at the site. Perhaps the large amount of Corinthian aryballoi found at the location indicates the cave was a locus for interaction, in a similar vein to the shrine at Mount Parnes, for which see below.Footnote ⁴³ Considering the wealth of material found at the cave, it is plausible to assume a small settlement at Eleutherai in the late seventh century, but there is no conclusive evidence for it.Footnote ⁴⁴ In the (later) Archaic period more elements are detectable, with finds concentrated around the later deme site of Oinoe. On the other side of the plain, evidence of occupation at Eleutherai is rather scarce, but picks up near the late sixth century. Epigraphic evidence demonstrates that it certainly existed by the last quarter of that century.Footnote ⁴⁵

In the Skourta plain the board is barer, with no archaeological traces until the late sixth century after a four-century hiatus. The fortress at Panakton was not constructed until the mid-fifth century, but there are traces of habitation in the Proto-Geometric period before a long lay-off.Footnote ⁴⁶ At the end of the sixth century, habitation picks up again. The recent attestation of Phyle in the late sixth-century kioniskos from Thebes aligns with the archaeological findings.Footnote ⁴⁷

Perhaps a shift of the Atheno-Boiotian border towards the Skourta plain in the late sixth century can be detected in the cultic pattern at Mount Parnes.Footnote ⁴⁸ A shrine dedicated to Zeus was frequented by Boiotians and Athenians alike during most of the sixth century, acting as a sanctuary shared between the two regions or at least as a place-based shrine, with visitors coming from surrounding areas. Boiotian visitors are particularly present in the dedicatory record through the inscribed sherds and the banquet material left behind. Previously, the significant amount of metal knives found at the shrine were perceived as a formative response by Athenian elites marking their territory.Footnote ⁴⁹ Recent analyses, however, stressed that these knives were connected to animal bones and related to banqueting.Footnote ⁵⁰ These knives were consecrated to the god after use at the banquet, with the worshippers’ provenance of a subsidiary importance. The amount of Corinthian pottery found at the shrine indicates a strong Boiotian presence, since no other Attic mountain shrine has yielded similar deposits, whereas the dissemination of Corinthian pottery in Boiotia was widespread. Interestingly, around 500 the dedications started to dry up. This indicates the shrine’s function as a border demarcation or negotiatory space possibly ceased.Footnote ⁵¹ Dwindling activity at the shrine suggests the Skourta plain may have become an early indicator of an agreed-upon border between the Athenian, Theban and Tanagraian lands at the end of the sixth century after the conclusion of hostilities.

It is around this time the Mazi and Skourta plains enter the historical record. Herodotus mentions the Boiotians captured ‘the remotest demes of Hysiai and Oinoe’ during the invasion of Attica in 507/6.Footnote ⁵² His phrasing is odd, since Hysiai was never an Athenian deme or included in Attic lands at this time.Footnote ⁵³ Herodotus probably uses the word ‘deme’ for the remotest regions of Attica and retrojects a later state of affairs onto the past when Hysiai became Plataian territory in the aftermath of the invasion. Kevin Daly proposed a different interpretation: he argues Herodotus’ description of Hysiai as a deme reflects the later fifth-century tendency in Athenian historiography to include non-Attic lands into a concept of a ‘Greater Attica’ that stretched beyond the geographical and political edges of the peninsula.Footnote ⁵⁴ The deme status of Hysiai is of minor importance. What matters are the quarrels over the Parasopia and the Mazi plain in this account. Herodotus’ remark was the standard version of events for a long time, until his account was partially confirmed and expanded upon by a kioniskos found in Thebes:

Found in the early 2000s, the inscription differs from Herodotus in one aspect: instead of Hysiai, the kioniskos mentions the Boiotians capturing Phyle. Vassilis Aravantinos adds that the broken part of the column may have mentioned Hysiai.Footnote ⁵⁶ While this is possible, advertising an attack on a neighbouring Boiotian town in the context of attacking Attica would be striking, but not impossible. Hysiai lies within the Parasopia and would have been part of the Theban chora, independent, or, as likely happened after the invasion, part of the Plataian chora (Chapter 4.1.3).Footnote ⁵⁷ If Simon Hornblower correctly views the split between books 5 and 6 of Herodotus’ Histories as a Hellenistic intervention, then the mention of Hysiai takes on added importance.Footnote ⁵⁸ Perhaps the mention of Hysiai fits in with the narrative of the Plataian alliance. Herodotus elaborates that the Plataian alliance was an outcome of the earlier Boiotian attack on the Parasopia. Reconstructing what actually occurred in this case is difficult, but the inclusion of Hysiai among the list of captured topoi appears to be a Herodotean error or conflation. Another explanation is that by swapping Hysiai for Phyle, the success rate of the invaders is portrayed as more limited than it was. It shifts the emphasis from the Mazi plain and the corridor connecting Attica to the Parasopia to a much larger stretch of borderland by incorporating the edges of the Skourta plain.Footnote ⁵⁹ The capture of Phyle, which is located on the furthest southern edges of Skourta plain, amplifies the initial successes of the invaders against the Athenians.Footnote ⁶⁰ However, it is just as likely that the people setting up the kioniskos put a positive spin on the event in the wake of the subsequent defeat. Irrespective of the weight one assigns to each account, what seems clear is that both sides stressed the capture of these borderlands, as a strident effort either to demonstrate resolve or to ascribe positives to what became a disastrous campaign.

Both Herodotus and the kioniskos indicate that control over the borderlands was, or became, a pertinent issue. It was not a dispute over borderlands that inspired the Boiotians’ involvement in the invasion (Chapters 2.2, 3.1.1). In the transitional period from the limited Peisistratid control to the democracy, the issue of agency in the borderlands could have taken on added importance. Perhaps the Boiotian coalition chose to strike pre-emptively. If Isagoras was installed in place of Cleisthenes and his reforms, the integration of borderland towns into the Theban chora could be presented as a fait accompli to the new leadership. They presumably would have accepted the situation, considering Isagoras would have owed his power to the military force of the neighbours.

The Boiotian coalition, led by the Thebans, would then have chosen to strike the iron while it was hot. The biggest benefactors of expanding these lands would be the Thebans and Tanagraians, since they directly bordered the Mazi and Skourta plains. Even with the expanding populations moving into the Mazi and Skourta plains, most of these communities remained politically unaligned. The Athenian tyrants undertook little effort to vindicate their claims beyond the confines of Mount Hymettos, Pentelikon and Aigaleios.Footnote ⁶¹ With the Athenians in disarray, and a possible new leadership indebted by charis-led debt, expanding into these borderlands was now possible. The Tanagraians could have benefitted from establishing themselves in the Oropia (Chapter 4.1.2) and the Skourta plain. For the Thebans, the integration of places alongside the Mazi and Skourta plains substantially increased their chora, as their interests in the Mazi plain from epigraphic evidence shows.Footnote ⁶²

Epigraphic material from Thebes, of which only phrases have been offered in a preliminary study by Angelos Matthaiou, revealed that the earliest relations between Thebes and Eleutherai went deeper than initially assumed. One of the bronze plaques is concerned with the ruling on a territorial dispute between the Megarians and the Thebans and Eleutherians.Footnote ⁶³ The two communities were collaborating against foreign intrusion of their soil. The Thebans functioned as the guardians of the Mazi plain, defending these fertile lands from Megarian encroachment. Salient about the Theban-Eleutherian relationship is the wording used to describe their connection. In lines 5–6 it reads: κἐνίκασε̣ hα πόλις hα Θε̣βαί|ον κἐλευθεραίο̣[ν].Footnote ⁶⁴ This wording is reminiscent of later instances of sympoliteia, a phenomenon more associated with the Hellenistic period. Arguably, one can postulate a similar hierarchical relationship here.Footnote ⁶⁵ Eleutherai was then part of the Theban chora that stretched into the Mazi plain. This explains the interest in Oinoe. By capturing this town on the other side of the Mazi plain, the fruits of this bountiful plain would be secured for the Thebans and prevent further encroachments while pushing back the Athenians and Megarians.

The kioniskos mentioned above confirms the importance of the Mazi and Skourta plain for the dedicants, with their ambitions stretching to Eleusis.Footnote ⁶⁶ Eleusis is not part of the Mazi or Skourta plain, and although arguably integrated into the Athenian polis since the earlier sixth century, the capture details the continued debate over its alignment.Footnote ⁶⁷ The capture by the Boiotian coalition made sense. The town was at a strategic crossroads between the Megarid and Athens, and the Thrasian plains produced an abundance of grain.Footnote ⁶⁸

The kioniskos probably concerned a ritual transfer of the captured territories, conceptualising the Boiotian attack on Athens as a pre-emptive strike.Footnote ⁶⁹ The ritual transfer vindicated the capture of these lands and reaffirmed their conquest, since land won by the spear counted as a rightful reason for claiming dominion over an area. These considerations were probably not the main instigator for the Boiotian coalition; installing a friendly regime was much more compelling. If the kioniskos was set up after their defeat, it would have acted as a memento for their claims to these lands, especially after the Athenians established their connection with the borderlands during the Cleisthenic reforms.

These reforms were a process of several years but the duration is up for debate. Stuart Elden argued the lack of measuring tools and cartography meant it was a long-drawn-out process to detail where the boundary lay and which area or town belonged to which part of Attica.Footnote ⁷⁰ His work is hindered by a lack of engagement with the archaeological and epigraphic material. According to archaeological data, more than seventy sites were occupied outside of Athens that later became demes by the time Cleisthenes enacted his reforms.Footnote ⁷¹ The pre-existence of communities alongside their territory would have negated the need to traipse around the Attic countryside with a chisel in hand to demarcate the borders.Footnote ⁷² What Cleisthenes’ reforms did do was to create a shared polity to connect these settlements. Communities and their adjacent lands, previously unattached, were now integrated into a larger polity that connected its political heart – Athens – with the outstretched villages and towns spread across Attica. This included places such as Oinoe and Phyle and their respective territories.Footnote ⁷³ Because the reclamation and integration of these places into the Athenian polity was not conceived of ex novo, nor finished within a matter of months, the inclusion of these borderland towns was likely in direct conflict with Boiotian claims, and established the Athenian presence in the fuzzy situation that was the borderlands.Footnote ⁷⁴ Perhaps this explains why Oinoe and Phyle received deme status, whereas other places such as Panakton did not.

Here the archaeological evidence comes into play. The process of assigning deme status is not fully understood. Most scholars believe that people registered at what they considered to be their home.Footnote ⁷⁵ This act of self-identification underlines the importance of locality before any political loyalty at this early stage.Footnote ⁷⁶ As the Mazi and Skourta plains at this time were sparsely populated and only recently inhabited, the appeal of registering at places such as Drymos, Panakton or Eleutherai could have been limited. This does not preclude the designation of these areas as demes – the irregularity of the deme system demonstrates that in certain cases, the status was meant to articulate claims to areas – but with other options available, the Athenians may have abstained from doing so in these cases. One possibility is that people were offered two options: either to register as an independent deme or to register at another, nearby deme.Footnote ⁷⁷ Perhaps most people preferred to register at Phyle or Oinoe. In the latter’s case, this could explain why it was such an extensive deme size-wise, with many surrounding inhabitants choosing to register there. Another explanation is that the Athenians appointed deme status to an area to stake a claim to the contested area.

One way to validate claims was by constructing fortresses or temples in the borderlands. At places such as Rhamnous or Sounion monumental works were erected to signal Athenian ownership. At the same time, it was a concerted effort to shore up the defences in the wake of the invasion and the repeated attacks by Thebans and Aeginetans (Chapter 2.2).Footnote ⁷⁸ Another expression of the connection between the Attic core and its peripheral areas was the maintenance and construction of new roads. These roads linked the new territories to the political centre, thereby forging a stronger tie with the liminal areas and ensuring that the inhabitants of τά μεθορία would not feel isolated and alienated from their brethren in the asty.Footnote ⁷⁹ Finally, hero cults could be established that were rooted in the locality to emphasise the connection between the inhabitants and place, as Emily Kearns details.Footnote ⁸⁰ The expansion of the Athenian polis likely occurred in the wake of the first hostilities and was designed to prevent a recurrence. It significantly altered the relationship between the regions. The Athenians went from nearby friends to actual neighbours of the Thebans and Tanagraians, not to mention the possible extension of the Athenian influence into the Parasopia (Chapter 4.1.3). The timing of the expansion was not amiss. According to Alain Bresson, the Athenian polis entered a state of external grain dependency from the sixth century onwards.Footnote ⁸¹ The stimulus of demographic growth might have pushed the Athenian democracy to expand its border and procure more resources in the wake of its victory. The victory allowed them to challenge the Theban and Tanagraian claims in a much more vigorous form, of which the deme assignment, the construction of monumental works and the construction of roads were the physical and political expression.

In some cases the Athenians went further than merely delineating their borders. In the years after the invasion, they annexed Eleutherai, controlling the Mazi plain and its resources.Footnote ⁸² How the new political situation was articulated remains unclear as Eleutherai was never incorporated into the Attic deme system.Footnote ⁸³ This may have been the choice of people living there or reluctant Athenian governing bodies, considering Oinoe lay close by and became a substantial settlement in its own right. Another option is that Eleutherai, like Panakton and Drymos in the Skourta plain perhaps, became an Athenian cleruchy.Footnote ⁸⁴

If the introduction of the Dionysos Eleutherios cult can be connected to the conquest of Eleutherai, its introduction may have been an ostentatious display of domination over this settlement and the Mazi plain (Chapter 3.5). While there is no proof of a pompe to ritualise the link between core and periphery, a new sanctuary was built in Dionysos’ honour on the south slope of the Athenian Akropolis following the trajectory of other ‘liminal’ places whose deities found their way to the centre of Athens, such as Brauron and Eleusis.Footnote ⁸⁵ Whether a (new) temple at Eleutherai was built to signify the new connection is uncertain.Footnote ⁸⁶ The cultic introduction clarified that the Mazi plain was part of Athens, rather than the Theban chora.

Shifts also occurred in the Skourta plain. The aforementioned shrine at Mount Parnes lost its function as a border shrine.Footnote ⁸⁷ Another indication of border fluctuations comes from the Zeus temple in Olympia, where a bronze shield was dedicated at the turn of the sixth century. The dedicatory inscription mentions a victory over the Tanagraians by an unknown assailant:

• 1) ]ḷΟΝΙΟ..Χ̣ ΑΡΜΑṬ ..Ε ….

• 2)

• 3) ]Ṇ ΤΑΝΑΓΡΑΙ … ΕΛΟΝΤΕΣ.Footnote ⁸⁸

Albert Schachter suggests this dedication referred to an Athenian victory over the Tanagraians by providing the following restoration:Footnote ⁸⁹

If his hypothesis is correct, the battle occurred somewhere in the borders between Tanagra and Athens; the Skourta plain is a likely candidate. As the war between the neighbouring regions waged on until the end of the century – with fluctuating intensity – this could have been offered after the defeat of the Boiotian forces in the invasion or in a different battle involving just the Athenians and Tanagraians. Then it would not conflict as much with the quadriga set up after the monumental victory over the invaders (Chapter 5.2.2). However, since the restoration depends on a lot of speculation, there is no certainty that the neighbours waged an ongoing war over the Skourta plain and its exploitation.

The designation of Phyle as a deme of the Athenian polis would nevertheless make more sense within this context on two grounds. The first is more top-down. If the impetus came from the Athenian leadership, the designation of Phyle was a clear-cut case of demarcating the furthest extent of Athenian control over the Skourta plain. Panakton, after all, became ‘visibly’ Athenian as a fortified position only in the mid-fifth century. Since Phyle encroaches the Skourta plain, rather than is situated within it, the lack of further habitation along the plain at this time possibly reflects an arrangement that left the plain to be tended by various surrounding communities as part of a treaty, as will be argued below. It is striking that Phyle, unlike Rhamnous or Eleusis, was not monumentalised, nor did it attain an influential cult place to distinguish it as an influential border area, or have its cults ‘imported’ to Athens, like Eleutherai. Another, bottom-up, possibility for why Phyle became a deme rather than Panakton lies with the choices made by the people living there. Phyle can be viewed as lying closer to the rest of Attica than Panakton, and perhaps there was more attachment to this place for people living near the Skourta plain than other settlements. Arguably, people from around Panakton may have registered at Phyle, rather than registering at Panakton, meaning the lack of a deme status for Panakton does not indicate a lack of Athenian interest in claiming the Skourta plain. The designation of deme status at Phyle suggests this part of the borderlands was regarded as Athenian, but it was never explicitly materialised in the physical landscape, allowing for a fuzzier situation in the Skourta plain than elsewhere.Footnote ⁹⁰ The lack of physical validation suggests the plain was purposely maintained as a shared region.

The integration of these borderlands boosted Athens’ position vis-à-vis other polities in Central Greece and recalibrated the political landscape, as exemplified by their actions following the victory of 507/6. Eleutherai was annexed, erasing any existing border in the Mazi plain. According to Herodotus, the neighbourly dispute lingered on and the borderlands were probably at the heart of this continued hostility.Footnote ⁹¹ The end date of these hostilities is unknown, as was its outcome. Eleutherai likely remained in Athenian hands for the first decades of the fifth century, further secured by the Athenian alliance with Plataia (Chapters 3.1.1, 4.1.3). Matters were perhaps different in the Skourta plain. Four sites are attested for the late sixth to early fifth century: Phyle, Panakton, Stefani and Agios Dimitrios.Footnote ⁹² The extent of habitation at these sites remains unclear, but they remained unfortified for the first half of the fifth century.Footnote ⁹³

Could this be subscribed to the difficulty of claiming these border sites? Or were these sites perhaps established after the events of 507/6? Or, finally, were they left unfortified to remain within the terms of an agreement concluded after hostilities ended? The Boiotians refer to an agreement about the exploitation of the Skourta plain after the destruction of the Athenian fortress at Panakton in 421. These ancient oaths stipulated that the Skourta plain should remain uninhabited and be common grazing land for the surrounding communities, arguably the Thebans, Athenians and Tanagraians:

Mark Munn traced these ancient oaths to the Geometric period, when the plain was abandoned.Footnote ⁹⁵ But I find this highly doubtful. While the lack of datable material for the eight and seventh centuries inevitably raises the question of whether the abandonment was deliberate, the oath may have been concluded at the end of the sixth century.Footnote ⁹⁶ There is an ancient tradition concerning a duel between mythological Athenian and Boiotian kings (Xanthus and Melanthus) over Oinoe and Panakton, and these start to appear in our sources around the late sixth century or even fifth century.Footnote ⁹⁷ Boiotian counter-claims to Panakton can be found in the aition for the tripodephoria from Thebes to Dodona.Footnote ⁹⁸ This rite is associated with a Theban war against the Pelasgians, inhabitants of the area around Panakton.Footnote ⁹⁹ The lack of monumentalisation at Panakton and Phyle could reflect such an agreement, making the Athenian presence in the Skourta plain less obvious than elsewhere.Footnote ¹⁰⁰

Moreover, Thucydides uses the word ‘παλαιὰν’ to refer to ancient oaths and agreements made relatively recently, in some cases less than thirty years ago. As the first disputes over these borderlands appear in our sources only at the end of the sixth century, the mythological tradition was a possible later Athenian retrojection to validate their claims. The Skourta plain could then have been left uninhabited as part of an agreement reached by the communities exploiting these lands: the Athenians, Thebans and Tanagraians.Footnote ¹⁰¹ No military structures or extended sites of habitation are attested before the mid-fifth century around the plain, when hostilities broke out again (Chapter 2.4).Footnote ¹⁰² This settlement was probably the most reasonable and profitable arrangement to put an end to the ongoing war between the neighbours. It is a further testimony to what I stated above: territory became a problem between the Athenians and Boiotians only when agreements over borders were broken or ignored. Control over borderlands was not necessarily an ingredient for hostile relations.

This is supported by events in the aftermath of the Persian Wars (480–479). An ostracon found in the Athenian Agora, dated to the 470s, condemns the Alcmeonid Megakles ‘on account of Drymos’ (Chapters 2.3, 3.2.1).Footnote ¹⁰³ If Mark Munn is correct in interpreting the ostracism as the result of internal disputes over the exploitation of the Skourta plain, the period after the 470s was marked by a remarkable conviviality in the border territories, which coincides with a relative dearth of neighbourly hostilities in our historical sources.Footnote ¹⁰⁴

The attitude towards the exploitation of the borderlands changed, however, when relations turned sour in the mid-fifth century. It was a period of upheaval in Boiotia. Within a decade, the Athenians subdued all of Boiotia before being forced to withdraw from the region after the defeat at Koroneia in 446. The precise settlement remains enigmatic – Thucydides mentions the Boiotians reclaimed their autonomia – yet we can conjecture some of the possible outlines of this settlement (Chapter 2.4).Footnote ¹⁰⁵

Eleutherai probably reverted to Boiotian control at this time. Thucydides calls Oinoe the border between the Athenians and Boiotians, suggesting Eleutherai became Boiotian sometime after 507/6, but before the start of the Peloponnesian War (431).Footnote ¹⁰⁶ This may have been expressed in the sacred landscape through the instalment of a Herakles shrine. Albert Schachter interprets the arrival of such cults throughout Boiotia as indications of Theban control over the territories in question.Footnote ¹⁰⁷ If his interpretation is correct, that could be the case in Eleutherai. Deposits of Boiotian pottery found in the town refer to a Herakles cult and are dated to the period 425–400.Footnote ¹⁰⁸ Of course, such cultic activity is far from conclusive.

How the territory was divided, or how settlements were politically aligned, is more difficult to retrace. The results from the survey detail that in the fifth, and especially the fourth century, secondary settlements and hamlets emerged around the plain, with Eleutherai and Oinoe as nuclei. According to the Mazi Archaeological Project, the ceramic densities in the plain itself were lowest, suggesting a border ran between Oinoe and Eleutherai with Rachi Stratonos a possibility (see Figure 4.4).Footnote ¹⁰⁹

Figure 4.4

Close-up of Mazi plain map.

(Source: Mazi Archaeological Plain Project)

The increase in sites makes it difficult to pin down which places belonged to whom, but settlement patterns might be insightful.Footnote ¹¹⁰ Oinoe was the nucleus for a nexus of dispersed hamlets and settlements. At Eleutherai the settlement pattern was much more centralised around the town. This led to Eleutherai growing larger than Oinoe. Another difference is the lack of fortification at Eleutherai, while Oinoe was walled. The early fortress at Eleutherai may have granted protection to the population there and this may have made any fortification at the town unnecessary.Footnote ¹¹¹ Could this indicate a difference in the exploitation of the plain, with the Boiotians focusing on the western half around Eleutherai, while the Athenians tried to cultivate the east? If that is correct, it suggests an arrangement concerning the exploitation of the plain. Recent events may have led to a clear division of who would cultivate what. Another option could be to view the fortification of Oinoe (prior to the Peloponnesian War) and the contemporaneous construction of a fortress near Eleutherai as conspicuous attempts to ensure the exploitation of parts of the plain for the people living there.Footnote ¹¹² Following Sylvian Fachard’s observations, the construction at Eleutherai was probably Boiotian, as the Athenians would not construct two fortifications that close to each other, considering the investment involved in constructing these enclosures.Footnote ¹¹³ The construction of two fortified sites on opposite sides of the plain suggests that prior to the Peloponnesian War, a political border cut across the plain, with both the Athenians and Boiotians taking a share, as argued by Sylvian Fachard.Footnote ¹¹⁴ The exact course of that political demarcation is harder to trace, and we may assume there was plenty of contact between both communities. The impetus for the fortifications was more likely the result of mutual suspicions in Thebes and Athens than a reflection of local animosity.Footnote ¹¹⁵

The fortification of important sites also occurred at the Skourta plain.Footnote ¹¹⁶ Panakton was fortified in the mid-fifth century, possibly because of the loss of influence in Boiotia.Footnote ¹¹⁷ It was connected to other important (border) demes such as Oinoe and Eleusis via a new engineered path.Footnote ¹¹⁸ The road signified that Panakton formed part of Attica. The fortified site served to protect the farmers when they were working the plains or as a refuge in times of danger.Footnote ¹¹⁹ What it did not do was block the route from Boiotia into Attica: ‘In strategic terms, the fortress and its garrison asserted control only in the sense that it prevented foreigners, in this case, Boeotians, from taking up residence and exploiting a valuable resource in grazing and farmland.’Footnote ¹²⁰ Considering the lack of Boiotian habitation or military structures on the other side of the plain, the preventive purpose of Panakton seems to have been successful.Footnote ¹²¹ The fortification helped to ensure the (partial) exploitation of the Skourta plain by settlers from Panakton and perhaps Phyle. It came at an opportune moment as well. Population increases between the Persian Wars and the Peloponnesian War made the nutritional supply in Athens increasingly precarious.Footnote ¹²² The alimentary penury perhaps inspired the abrasive behaviour of fortifying Panakton and claiming partial exclusivity, rather than accepting a shared exploitation.

Because the excavations at Panakton offered no clear-cut date, the fortified site may have been constructed before the Battle of Koroneia (446) (Chapters 2.4, 3.2.3). In that case, the fortification may be more cynically seen as an abuse of power by the Athenians, who wished to monopolise part of the Skourta plain at the time of their domination over Boiotia. Their actions then perhaps triggered resentment among their subjects. Considering the Athenians’ ‘loose grasp’ over Boiotia during their decade-long domination, however, such antagonism would be remarkable since most poleis had a pro-Athenian regime. Conversely, it fits better after Koroneia. The militarisation of the plain did not deteriorate neighbourly relations, since these had already reached a nadir at that point. Personally, I am more inclined to favour this latter interpretation. During times of harmonious co-existence there was less incentive to cut off Boiotian neighbours from exploiting the lands, especially as it could gravely endanger the fragile friendship with the Boiotians, who controlled a region of instrumental value to the safety of Athens.Footnote ¹²³ In times of heightened hostility, the case was different. The recent hostilities with the Boiotians could have triggered the fortification of Panakton to ensure at least some share of the Skourta plain benefitted the Athenian people.Footnote ¹²⁴ Their actions aggravated an already tense relationship with the Boiotians. The latter now had sufficient reason to openly strive for hostilities with the Athenians but remained aloof until the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War.

With the onset of the Peloponnesian War (431), these grievances came to the fore. The belligerents expected a quick end to the war. Thus, the Boiotians aimed to occupy as many contested places as possible to create the strongest negotiating position; possession is nine tenths of the law.Footnote ¹²⁵ That is demonstrated by the allied forces’ attacks on Oinoe. This fortified site was not on the direct route into Attica and its attack was not predicated on military interests. Some men in the invading army of the anti-Athenian coalition openly doubted its necessity.Footnote ¹²⁶ Precaution perhaps warranted an attack on Oinoe. It is dangerous to leave the back of the army vulnerable to an enemy garrison. Boiotian objectives are a more likely motivation. Occupying Oinoe meant they could monopolise control over the Mazi plain by capturing the key hub in its web of settlements. They could then present the Athenians with an ultimatum in a future treaty or obtain ownership of more parts of the plain.Footnote ¹²⁷ The sites of Panakton and Phyle must also have been harassed by Boiotian forces, with attacks on the Skourta plain attested in the mid-420s.Footnote ¹²⁸ These moves imply a desire to rectify Athenian violations of the arrangements in the borderlands, as well as obtain the most advantageous position at the negotiation table.

Frustrations over Athenian actions in the Skourta plain emerged in the years 422–421. Panakton fell into Boiotians hands in 422 through subterfuge.Footnote ¹²⁹ This granted them a substantial advantage in the peace negotiations of 421. Their actions during these talks demonstrate the impact of the Athenian fortifications. In the original arrangement, the fortress was to be returned to the Athenians by the Spartans, but the Boiotians were unwilling to hand it over.Footnote ¹³⁰ In exchange for its possession, the Boiotians demanded a separate Spartan alliance to prevent their exclusion from a bilateral Atheno-Spartan treaty (Chapter 3.1.2). Panakton was eventually yielded to the Spartans, but only after the fortress had been destroyed. Incensed by this action, the Athenians wanted to have their claim to the Skourta plain validated in an agreement. If their claim was accepted by all parties, the Athenian fortification of Panakton was justified and accepted as the new status quo. Understandably, the Boiotians rejected this premise and justified the destruction of the fortifications by referring to the ancient oaths that guaranteed the neutrality and accessibility of the Skourta plain to the surrounding communities:

The centrality of Panakton, and the Skourta plain in general, during these negotiations is striking: the Athenians were willing to return Spartan prisoners and the strategically advantageous outpost on Pylos in exchange for Panakton and its fortress.Footnote ¹³² Their insistence on its return is particularly salient when compared with their standpoint on Plataia. Its restitution came up during the negotiations, but the Athenians were persuaded to leave the matter in exchange for their control over the harbour of Nisaia on the Saronic Gulf.Footnote ¹³³ Perhaps they realised Plataia could not be salvaged, or, more cynically, the Plataike simply did not matter as much as the Skourta plain. A treaty was acceptable, as long as the Athenian militarisation and claim to the Skourta plain remained in place. It was precisely those demands the Boiotians rejected. If the Athenians were willing to share the fruits of the borderlands equally, the Boiotians were amenable to a peace treaty. Boosting their resolve were the recent developments in the Peloponnesian War. Rather than being treated as a subordinate to the Spartans, they desired respect. With that came a demand to revert the Skourta plain to the prior status quo (Chapter 3.1.2). These inclinations demonstrate that control over the borderlands did not prohibit friendly relations. Clear agreements over the exploitation of marginal lands were conducive to peaceful co-existence. The Boiotians made that point: it was the Athenians’ disregard for the established agreements over the exploitation of the Skourta plain that negatively affected the neighbourly relations.

Another border-related issue was the betrayal of the Athenian fortress at Oinoe in 411. According to Thucydides, the disposed Athenian oligarchs fled to Oinoe and convinced the garrison to surrender the fortress to the Boiotians as part of the conditions for the Athenians’ surrender.Footnote ¹³⁴ What did the fleeing Athenian oligarchs wish to accomplish by handing over the fortress to the Boiotians? Was it an attempt to precipitate the end to the war by relinquishing a disputed territory to the Boiotians? Or simply a way of appeasing their new hosts?Footnote ¹³⁵

Unfortunately, Oinoe has not been the subject of extensive excavations, with only trial trenches dug to determine the extent of the fortifications.Footnote ¹³⁶ Therefore it is unknown what happened with the fortress after the betrayal. There is no mention of a destruction in other sources, unlike Panakton. If the fortress was not dismantled, we can speculate about possible reasons. Was it that the Boiotians did not perceive Oinoe as a threat? Was it because of the manpower and money involved in dismantling the fortifications?Footnote ¹³⁷ Or maybe the fortification of Oinoe did not conflict with previous arrangements concerning the Mazi plain? Until there is more evidence from excavations, we cannot tell. In all likelihood, the fortification reverted back to the Athenians after the war. The swift turnaround in Atheno-Boiotian relations could have helped the situation (Chapters 2.4, 2.5, 3.2.2).

The situation in the Skourta plain seems to have reverted to a state of co-exploitation. Insofar as the survey results provide any conclusions, the Panakton fortification remained in ruins after the Peloponnesian War.Footnote ¹³⁸ This ‘abandonment’ coincides with a period of harmonious Athenian-Boiotian relations, culminating in an alliance in 395.Footnote ¹³⁹ Whether that was a conspicuous move is difficult to confirm, but perhaps there were more pressing matters to attend to rather than rebuilding the fortress. It may indicate a friendlier relationship between the neighbours leading to the older status quo of co-existence, but it cannot be ascertained.Footnote ¹⁴⁰ The lack of fortifications does not mean the plain was completely deserted. Small habitation sites started to appear around the plain at the end of the fifth century.Footnote ¹⁴¹ But the absence of military structures to thwart the exploitation of the plain by other communities like the Tanagraians suggests the fertile lands were available to all surrounding polities. The reluctance to refortify Panakton could have been the result of the collaborations between the Athenians and Boiotians shortly after the Peloponnesian War, and the enduring friendship it created throughout the first forty years of the fourth century. Another factor could have been decreasing Athenian population numbers and thus less pressure on the grain supply.Footnote ¹⁴²

The alliance of 395 materialised at a time of reduced revenue for the Athenians and a Boiotia that was about to be invaded by the Spartans. A self-interested polity, as assumed by Realist theory and its supporters, would have exploited the situation to monopolise the Skourta plain, especially when the loss of revenue needed to be compensated by the hinterland.Footnote ¹⁴³ The Athenians’ reluctance to push these claims not only argues against the Realist interpretation of interstate relations, but also implies that clear and fair agreements concerning territorial boundaries were pivotal to friendly neighbourly interaction. Realising that enmity with their neighbours had wreaked the most havoc on their countryside, as evidenced by their occupation at Dekeleia, it may have dawned on them that sharing these borderlands was more profitable in the long run.Footnote ¹⁴⁴

Oinoe and Eleutherai remained fortified, demarcating the respective territories of the Boiotians and Athenians in the Mazi plain.Footnote ¹⁴⁵ The demarcated borders in the Mazi plain could be perceived as tokens of suspicion and hostility. First, though, these fortifications had not been dismantled. There was no need to change the status quo, especially considering the costs involving in building these constructions.Footnote ¹⁴⁶ Unlike the Skourta plain, these constructions did not conflict with a previous situation that caused dismay, but probably reflected the earlier arrangements concerning the exploitation of the Mazi plain. The increase in settlements around the plain could also have necessitated this sort of demarcation.Footnote ¹⁴⁷ Second, these fortified sites served an important military purpose during the Corinthian War as military bases. The Spartans invaded Boiotia repeatedly in the opening phases of the war and often took the most direct road to Boiotia from the Peloponnese. This road led through the Mazi plain and made the garrisons at Oinoe and Eleutherai even more vital, not in repelling an invasion, but as bases for raids on the supply lines of attacking armies.Footnote ¹⁴⁸

A reluctance to fortify Panakton during the years of alliance fits in with the picture painted above, yet the Athenians abstained from fortifying it even after the King’s Peace of 387/6 and the end of their alliance. That is even more remarkable considering pro-Spartan regimes were in place in Thebes and Tanagra from 382 to 379, possibly creating friction. The Athenians decided to refortify Panakton only in the later fourth century (see below). Their reasons remain enigmatic. It was a period of expanding habitation around the Skourta plain with isolated farms arising at various places around the plane, especially in the later fourth century.Footnote ¹⁴⁹ Similar habitation is not attested for the earlier half of that century. The earliest datable artefacts at Panakton pick up again around 370, after a half-century hiatus. This is just around the time that the Boiotian-Athenian alliance dissipated (Chapter 3.1.3).

In comparison to the apogee of tensions over the fertile plains in τα μεθορία between 425 and 400, the period after the Peloponnesian War provides little evidence. Eleutherai is mentioned only once during the Boiotian War as a place for a united front against the Spartans.Footnote ¹⁵⁰ Even in times of hostilities, like the 360s and 350s, our sources remain relatively silent on the Mazi and Skourta plain.Footnote ¹⁵¹ It is only in the later fourth century, when a real threat of neighbourly conflict was on the horizon, that these borderlands became topical again in the literary record (see below).

Although one should be careful to create correlations where there are none, it seems plausible that the Athenians, unburdened from their desire to maintain cordial relations with the Boiotians, openly defied the agreements concerning the Skourta plain by fortifying Panakton. The fortification of Panakton during times of increasing animosity demonstrates the disruptive effects the appropriation of the borderlands could have. Whereas in other disputed territories there was no opportunity to physically dominate the landscape, the Skourta plain provided the perfect opportunity to establish a new military presence in the borderlands. The lack of earlier fortifications allowed for such a statement and prevented the neighbours from exploiting the previously shared farmlands.

On the other side of the border, the Boiotians instigated an elaborate fortification scheme. It was meant to safeguard fertile lands from invasion and plunder, among them Eleutherai (see Figure 4.5).Footnote ¹⁵² Its monumental fortress was the most grandiose expression of the scheme. Although the masonry cannot provide a date set in stone, there are signs of expansions in the excavated structures that date to the fourth century.Footnote ¹⁵³ Arguably, the work started after the Boiotian Wars of 375–371, in which Boiotia was the target of repeated Spartan invasions (Chapter 2.5). Whether the impetus for the construction came after the cessation of the Athenian-Boiotian alliance of 369 is unclear, but perhaps this led to more effort and resources flowing into the Eleutherai fortress. The fortress granted the Boiotians control over the commercial and civilian traffic coming from the Mazi plain. It secured the western side of the Mazi plain and offered a large enough refuge for the inhabitants of Eleutherai to flee in time of peril as Sylvian Fachard convincingly argued.Footnote ¹⁵⁴ The symbolic aspect of the building mattered too. The Boiotian fortress dwarfed its Athenian counterpart at Oinoe and sent a clear message to the Athenians: the Boiotians were the dominant power in the Mazi plain, not their southern neighbours.Footnote ¹⁵⁵ Since this was the time of expanding habitation in the plain, the message would have resonated even more.Footnote ¹⁵⁶ New hamlets sprang up east and north-west of Eleutherai, and there is evidence of new habitation to the south of Oinoe and near the Mazi tower and Stanes Pepas. This increased habitation perhaps necessitated the Boiotian expansion of the fortress at Eleutherai to secure a larger population and prevent Athenian encroachment. Again, the tensions over control of valuable farmland mounted during times of hostility; these matters could be solved diplomatically if the involved actors were willing.

Figure 4.5

Fortress at Eleutherai.

(Source: Author)

The territories of Eleutherai, Oinoe, Phyle or Panakton do not show up in our sources for the 360s and 350s, although we do not possess a contemporary annalistic historical work for this time. The lack of references is nevertheless striking, as the Athenians did struggle with the Megarians over the borders of the hiera orgas, the sacred (fertile) lands between Eleusis and Megara. They pressed their claims in 352/1 and sent an army into the Megarid in 350/49 to re-establish boundaries.Footnote ¹⁵⁷ Escalations in the Attic-Boiotian borderlands were mitigated by the Common Peace treaties of 366/5 and 362/1. After the Battle of Mantinea, both the Athenians and Boiotians were war-weary. The subsequent Third Sacred War (357–346) drew the Boiotians into a drawn-out and costly conflict with the Phocians. The financial strain of this war put any Boiotian ambitions in the borderlands on hold, rendering any attempt to stake a claim to the Skourta plain – and thereby risk a two-front war – unlikely.Footnote ¹⁵⁸

The Peace of Philokrates (346) changed matters. The end of the war freed the Boiotians from the financial and military morass of the Third Sacred War. They could now turn their gaze southwards to the Skourta plain. In 343/2 Demosthenes warned his Athenian audience that they must now march out to protect Drymos and the land around Panakton against the Thebans, instead of recovering Oropos.Footnote ¹⁵⁹ He implies there was a sudden threat to the Athenian exploitation of the Skourta plain. This contrasts with previous years, when the Boiotians were pre-occupied with the war in Phocis. The picture of an ungarrisoned and unkept fortification at Panakton is confirmed by the discovery of an inventory of weaponry and tools from the fortified site.Footnote ¹⁶⁰ The decrepit state of some of the weaponry handed over to the newly installed general suggests the infrastructure had been standing idle for several years before Panakton became a pressing matter again. The inventory is dated to the archonship of Pythodotos (343/2), which coincides with the year of Demosthenes’ speech. A year prior, the troops had been mobilised to reoccupy Panakton.Footnote ¹⁶¹

There might thus be a kernel of truth in Demosthenes’ exhortations, although there is no proof of an attack occurring.Footnote ¹⁶² The archaeological record offers some support to Demosthenes’ claims.Footnote ¹⁶³ If the watchtowers along the northern edges of the plain were indeed Boiotian constructions, as is likely, then the Boiotians started to assert themselves in the area around this time. These towers prevented further encroachment by Athenian farmers. Considering the near bankruptcy of the koinon, their decision to invest in the exploitation of the Skourta plain becomes more understandable.Footnote ¹⁶⁴ The fertile lands provided valuable resources and its revenues could not be relinquished to the Athenians. The Peace of Philokrates tied the Athenians and Boiotians to Philip of Macedon, who was the koinon’s ally. The koinon must have felt emboldened, knowing the Athenians were in no position to challenge the Boiotians and the Macedonian king over the exploitation of the Skourta plain. The koinon’s leadership thereby demonstrated an acute awareness of the geographical implications of their political alliances with regard to the relationship with their Athenian neighbours: now was the time to claim their share of the Skourta plain and boost their economic recovery.

The terms of the alliance against the Macedonians in 339/8 provide another example of the delicate nature of borderlands in negotiations. More was needed this time for a rapprochement than the dismantling of the Panakton fortress. The koinon’s leadership insisted on the recognition of the Theban claim over Boiotia. Whether this included the Skourta and Mazi plain is unclear. These were τα μεθόρια, and thus not officially part of Boiotia. Considering the Athenians’ predicament, the Boiotians could have pushed to include these plains, yet refrained from doing so (Chapter 3.4.4). They did not hesitate to demand financial concessions from the Athenians, so why the reluctance to push for these profitable lands?

The military situation in both plains might provide some indication. Unlike the militarisation of the Skourta plain during the Peloponnesian War, which was rather one-sided, the situation may have changed. That depends on whether the Tanagraians and Thebans had shielded their share by constructing the Tsoukrati and Limiko towers or whether these were Athenian constructions.Footnote ¹⁶⁵ If Boiotian, these towers limited the Athenians’ capacity to encroach upon these lands and may reflect a status quo in which each side respected a division or a shared exploitation of the lands. Perhaps this was the case in the Mazi plain as well, where the mutual fortifications on either side provided a refuge for the populations and ensured none of the powers at play were strong enough to monopolise the fertile plains.Footnote ¹⁶⁶ This could reflect a shared exploitation or an agreement concerning the cultivation of the lands, thanks to a border running through the plain. A delicate balance in these plains could have assured there was no need to push for further concessions if that could disrupt the negotiations.

Interesting in this light is the refurbishment or strengthening of the fortifications at Phyle in 334/3 or 333/2 after the destruction of Thebes. Perhaps the same occurred at Oinoe.Footnote ¹⁶⁷ With the other main player in the Mazi and Skourta plain taken out of the picture, the Athenians may have aimed at reinforcing their claims to these lands, especially with other Boiotian communities gobbling up parts of the Theban chora.Footnote ¹⁶⁸

In sum, the Mazi and Skourta plains were desirable plots of fertile lands located in the frontier zone between Attica and Boiotia. In the sixth and early fifth century, control over the Mazi plain fluctuated between the neighbours. The situation changed in the late fifth century, when each side built fortifications, resulting in a status quo in which each cultivated its own share of the plain. This situation lasted throughout the fourth century. In the Skourta plain, the situation was different. A less developed settlement pattern in the fifth century provided a breeding ground for disputes, leading to the Athenian militarisation of the plain to ensure their grasp over it. This culminated in the destruction of the fortifications at Panakton. The early fourth century saw the return of a friendly co-existence and co-habitation of the plain, before the rebuilding of the Panakton fortifications in the mid-fourth century signalled the return of frictions. The situation stabilised somewhat after the Third Sacred War (357–346) with the Thebans and Tanagraians staking their claim to the desirable plots through the construction of watchtowers to keep the Athenians at bay, before the matter seems to have been settled with the conclusion of the Theban-Athenian alliance in 339/8.

In the era of Macedonian domination, the importance of the Mazi and Skourta plains in manipulating neighbourly relations was not lost on Alexander’s successors. Pretenders to the Macedonian throne would retain possession of the Athenian border fortresses to stymie opposition, or return the occupied fortified sites to the Athenians to curry favour.Footnote ¹⁶⁹ Nor did the Athenians forget about the centrality of the hinterland, which gained a much larger role when their power was eclipsed by the Macedonian kings.Footnote ¹⁷⁰

4.1.2 Where the Earth Swallowed Amphiaraos: Oropos and the Oropia

Another perennial bone of contention was Oropos and its adjacent lands, the Oropia (see Figure 4.6). Its inhabitants suffered from the precarious position of the region, wedged between the Athenians and Boiotians, with the Eretrians across the water wielding an equal amount of influence. The district is a maritime plain through which the river Asopos flows into the sea and extends some five kilometres along the shoreline in current times, though the region may have been slightly larger in earlier periods. Inland it is separated from Tanagra by a chain of hills, creating a natural demarcation. These hills did not obstruct travel, as the towns shared an easily traversable boundary.Footnote ¹⁷¹ Geographically, it belonged to Boiotia, but politically it changed sides frequently, sometimes voluntarily, other times not.

Figure 4.6

Map of Oropos and Oropia in relation to Athens and Thebes.

In most cases, Eretrian involvement altered Oropos’ political alignment.Footnote ¹⁷² Although the roots of the town date to the early Iron Age, Oropos’ early political affiliations remain shrouded in mystery.Footnote ¹⁷³ There was an undeniable close link with Eretria. Whether Oropos was an Eretrian colony, as claimed by the third-century historian Nikokrates, is debated.Footnote ¹⁷⁴ The connection remains problematic, as the remains at Oropos appear to pre-date those at Eretria.Footnote ¹⁷⁵ Therefore, Nikokrates’ testimony may reflect a later Eretrian tradition that emphasised the connections with Oropos. The increased prominence of the town and its illustrious healing sanctuary of Amphiaraos may be the reason for it.

So when did the Oropia become a neighbourly desideratum? The debate over the date of the first Athenian occupation of the Oropia is ongoing. Peter Funke argues it was part of Peisistratid Athens. Denis Knoepfler prefers a date after the 470s and contends the Oropia had been an Eretrian possession until then.Footnote ¹⁷⁶ Yet I would contend there is a possibility the Oropia was Theban and became Athenian after the convulsions of 507/6.Footnote ¹⁷⁷

Admittedly, the literary sources are inconclusive. Oropos’ exclusion from the deme system suggests it was not part of the Athenian sphere before the Cleisthenic reforms. Yet other areas such as Brauron and Salamis certainly belonged to that nexus prior to the reform and were equally excluded.Footnote ¹⁷⁸ There were other methods to express political affiliation, but there is little to no evidence from Oropos that details an Athenian connection, such as an eponymous hero cult or another connection to the Amphiareion (Chapter 5.3).Footnote ¹⁷⁹ Nor is there evidence for Athenian involvement in the wake of the invasion of 507/6. The lack of monumental works at Oropos, in contrast to Rhamnous, would imply the Oropia was not perceived as a border requiring fortification or further elaboration.Footnote ¹⁸⁰ Yet the situation in Skala Oropou, with the modern town built over large parts of the ancient polis, complicates the matter.

Herodotus’ account of the Athenian cleruchs’ flight from Chalkis in 490 when they heard of the pending Persian attack is more illuminating:

The cleruchs at Chalkis ‘returned to their own country’, after which they landed at Oropos. The language utilised by Herodotus suggests the Oropia belonged to the Athenians at this point, even if it is not specified that the region constituted ‘home’ for the cleruchs and the description may have reflected Herodotus’ own time. Matters of convenience were not at stake here: it did not constitute the shortest route to mainland Greece. That distinction would have belonged to Boiotia. The narrowest crossing in the Euboian Gulf is no more than fifty meters between Chalkis and the mainland. If flight was of the utmost concern, and without any notion of neighbourly hostility, these cleruchs could have crossed over to Aulis first before heading to Athens. Yet in their attempt to escape the Persian onslaught, they went over to Oropos first. If they were willing to sail across the strait to a safe place, why would they have stopped at Oropos, rather than sail all the way to Athens itself? Even if the Eretrians possessed the Oropia, their friendly relations with the Athenians guaranteed a safer landing ground than the alternative of staying in Chalkis, but it would not entail ‘returning home’. I contend Herodotus’ language suggests the Oropia was a part of Athens in 490 and could have been since 507/6 or shortly after, when significant changes took place in the borderlands.

But the question of Athenian conquest after 507/6 hinges on whether Oropos was a Boiotian or Theban possession to begin with, rather than Eretrian.Footnote ¹⁸² An exciting discovery from Thebes could shed new light on this issue. In 2014 the editio princeps of a dedication from the Apollo Ismenios temple at Thebes was published by Nikolaos Papazarkadas.Footnote ¹⁸³ Originally, it was inscribed in Boiotian script somewhere around the end of the sixth century and reinscribed in Ionic script either in the 360s or after Thebes’ restoration in 316:Footnote ¹⁸⁴

The dedication was made by the sanctuary’s priest, who had miraculously recovered a shield offered to Amphiaraos after it had been stolen from his sanctuary in Oropos.Footnote ¹⁸⁶ Although the context of this ‘theft’ remains enigmatic, its concurrence with a possible Theban loss of Oropos is striking. The invocation of the Oropian deity par excellence, Amphiaraos, and the help of Apollo Ismenios, a deity whose shrine was the locus for the expression of Theban territorial domination within Boiotia, suggests the Thebans were here promulgating a claim to the Oropia in the wake of its loss.Footnote ¹⁸⁷ I would not be surprised if Apollo Ismenios’ priest decided to demonstrate his patriotic fervour at a time when the Thebans were planning a new expedition to reclaim Oropos.Footnote ¹⁸⁸ The uniqueness of the metric dedication – the only one on stone from the Apollo Ismenios temple – suggests the dedication’s singularity could be connected to a contemporary political context, as it stood out among the jungle of dedications at the shrine.Footnote ¹⁸⁹ It strengthened the connection between Apollo Ismenios, Thebes and Amphiaraos, and the territory he inhabited – the Oropia – and could have vindicated their claim to these lands, seized by the Athenians. This reconstruction of events must remain conjecture. It is not implausible that the Oropia was shared by the Thebans and Tanagraians and belonged to Boiotia politically, or was politically independent prior to or perhaps after the invasion.Footnote ¹⁹⁰

An Athenian takeover would have altered the power relationship between the neighbours in the Euboian Gulf.Footnote ¹⁹¹ The Euboian Gulf was the conduit for seafarers heading eastwards from Boiotia to the Black Sea region, an area well connected to Boiotia.Footnote ¹⁹² These maritime connections went through the Euboian Gulf, and from the Cyclades to the Black Sea.Footnote ¹⁹³ For the Athenians, who could travel via Euboia and Scyros, the route was perhaps less important for the grain trade. But Oropos mattered as a way to control Euboia and safeguard it from Boiotian interference (Chapter 4.2.2). The town was one of the more hospitable harbours in the Euboian Gulf and acted as a primary port for the commodities coming in from Euboia and the Black Sea region.Footnote ¹⁹⁴ Oropos’ annexation was essential for the maintenance of the Athenian cleruchy at Chalkis, established in 507/6, and to exert considerable influence on Euboia.Footnote ¹⁹⁵ The district’s annexation strengthened the Athenians’ control over the contested waters of the Euboian Gulf and made the connection between the Chalkidians and Boiotians more vulnerable, which could prevent another unified effort against the young democracy.

Occupying the Oropia deprived the Thebans and Tanagraians of highly fertile lands, capable of producing substantial amounts of wheat and barley. Considering the Athenians’ dependence on grain imports from the sixth century onwards, these fertile lands provided a powerful incentive to annex the Oropia.Footnote ¹⁹⁶ The annexation of Oropos also acted as a buffer against future Tanagraian or Chalkidian incursions. The Oropia, together with the Athenian cleruchy at Chalkis, acted as an advanced strategic post and undermined a collaboration between the Chalkidians and Boiotians. It particularly shielded the eastern fringes of Attica, such as Rhamnous, with its fertile arable lands.Footnote ¹⁹⁷ By dislodging Oropos from the Boiotian or Euboian nexus, the Athenians secured their borders, strengthened their grasp on the Euboian strait and increased the security of their food supply.

So how are we to describe the relationship between the Athenians and the Oropia? It likely took the form of a dependency with the inhabitants tilling the soil, while the Oropia was Athenian territory.Footnote ¹⁹⁸ These lands were perhaps owned by wealthy Athenians, since plots in the Oropia were sold after the Mutilation of the Herms affair in 415.Footnote ¹⁹⁹ The Oropians and their territory were employed as a buffer zone, possibly independent, but politically subservient to the Athenians. Maybe the status of Oropos was comparable to Plataia’s: a protectorate of the Athenians, who could act as buffers against Boiotian aggression (Chapter 4.1.3).Footnote ²⁰⁰

While the early political affiliations of the Oropia and its position along the Attic-Boiotian frontier cannot be certified, we are on firmer ground from the mid-fifth century onward. Following the Euboian revolts of 446, the Athenians decided to secure their ownership of the island and establish a cleruchy at Histiaia in 446/5.Footnote ²⁰¹ In the decree detailing these arrangements, the ferry tariffs between Oropos, Chalkis and Histiaia are described within the context of piracy to ensure the safety of the ships traveling between these sites.Footnote ²⁰² The inscription, although dealing with another settlement, illustrates the importance of Oropos within the ‘small world’ of the Euboian Gulf. The Athenian control over the Oropia cemented the grasp over Euboia. The connection with this valuable dominion, exemplified by the renewed establishment of cleruchies on the island, had become more tenuous after the Boiotian revolt in 446 and the Athenians’ subsequent withdrawal from Boiotia.

What more can Oropos’ alignment with the Athenians after 446 tell us? Although Athenian power was removed from Boiotia, it remained in place in the Oropia. Was the Oropia not perceived as Boiotian territory? Or was it part of the settlement that saw the Athenians possibly give up Eleutherai but not Oropos? Or did the Oropians revolt, but were subdued by the Athenians? Thucydides is characteristically cursory in his treatment of the affairs after the Battle of Koroneia in 446, including the treatment of Oropos.Footnote ²⁰³ His silence may indicate nothing occurred in this region. Oropos and its lands were seemingly not the desideratum between the two neighbours at this point. Or maybe the Boiotians hoped to incorporate the district after a successful Euboian rebellion, as the collaboration with their island neighbours frequently factored in dislodging Oropos from Athenian control. The subjugation of these revolts, and the subsequent Athenian settlement, prevented that ambition from materialising.

The Oropia re-enters the stage during the Peloponnesian War (431–404). The Boiotians became more invested in securing and strengthening their hold on the border and joined with the Eretrians to detach the Oropia from Athenian control. Facilitating the takeover was the instalment of a hostile garrison in nearby Dekeleia in 413.Footnote ²⁰⁴ Its instalment isolated the garrison in Oropos by disconnecting its main axis with Athens. In 411 the time was ripe to deliver the final blow. According to Thucydides, the Boiotians took over Oropos by treason.Footnote ²⁰⁵ The surrender of the garrison had been plotted by Eretrian and Oropian exiles, but the choice to hand over the town to the Boiotians was dictated by circumstance, as the Eretrians were still under the Athenian yoke.

Thucydides records the motive for this intervention, connected to the inner-gulf dynamics between the island and the mainland: ‘For it (Oropos) was opposite Eretria and it was impossible that so long as the Athenians held it, it would not be to the harm of the Eretrians and the rest of Euboia.’Footnote ²⁰⁶ These exiles understood the local dynamics of power. With Oropos secured, any future external incursion in Euboia would be met with fierce Athenian resistance. The removal of their garrison weakened their position along the Euboian Gulf and took away a vital launching point for attack.Footnote ²⁰⁷ The Boiotians realised the importance of Euboia for the survival of Athens and the central role played by the Oropia in maintaining the grasp over the island and the Euboian Gulf. The expulsion of the garrison struck the Athenians where they were weakest and strengthened the Boiotian position in Central Greece.

Instead of annexing the Oropia to the koinon, or to the Theban or Tanagraian chora, the external powers were satisfied with detaching the district from Athenian control.Footnote ²⁰⁸ What was the incentive for this decision? Reputation could have played a role. If the Oropians were viewed as victims of Athenian exploitation, occupying these lands in a war for Hellenic eleutheria could have caused outrage throughout the Greek world. Another factor is the Boiotian-Euboian relationship, with the Eretrians in particular. The recent collaboration had forged a new identity for the koinon as the leader of the opposition in Central Greece. A takeover of a recently liberated district would have disturbed the delicate friendship, or the Oropians could have taken the initiative to remain independent.

After a brief decade of independence, stasis troubled Oropos in 402. Disgruntled exiles were unsuccessful in recapturing the city and approached the Thebans for help against the city’s forces. Backed by these forces, the exiles succeeded. Shortly after, a drastic measure was taken according to Diodorus, who bases himself on Theopompos:Footnote ²⁰⁹

Two things stand out.Footnote ²¹¹ First, moving the city land inwards embedded the Oropians firmly into the geographical fabric of Boiotia and made it less susceptible to external intermingling. The external threat is usually perceived to be the Athenians. Considering the previous attacks on the eastern Boiotian seaboard, that is understandable. The contemporary friendly neighbourly relations contradict this, however. Nor did the move inland quell the possibility of Athenian troops marching overland to Oropos. As Ludwig Preller argued long ago, the more pressing danger loomed from across the water: the Eretrians.Footnote ²¹²

The other salient feature is the combination of transforming the Oropia into Boiotian territory and extending citizenship to all Oropians. This unprecedented act of expanding the franchise to a ‘non-ethnic’ Boiotian polis is remarkable. In Emily Mackil’s view, this means the Thebans made Oropos ‘Boiotian’ rather than Theban and granted it an independent status as a member of the koinon.Footnote ²¹³ Her suggestion is problematic, however, since Oropos is not mentioned as a separate member of the koinon by the author of the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia when describing the situation in 395:

Either this took place after 395 and the conclusion of the Atheno-Boiotian alliance – an unlikely suggestion – or the Oropians became incorporated into the Tanagraian territory and acted as a subservient Boiotian polis similar to Aulis or Anthedon, as proposed by Robert Buck.Footnote ²¹⁵ After all, the border between the Tanagraike and the Oropia was fluid and undefined. The ‘Boiotianisation’ of Oropos prevented any future confusion over these lines.Footnote ²¹⁶ An additional issue is the conflation of ‘Boiotians’ and ‘Thebans’ in Diodorus, who writes with the hindsight of the Theban hegemony and often mentions Thebans in lieu of the Boiotians.Footnote ²¹⁷ A likely scenario is that the Oropia was made a dependency of the Tanagraians, with the Thebans in Diodorus’ description acting as representatives of the koinon.Footnote ²¹⁸

Yet the majority – if not all – of the Oropia became part of the Tanagraian chora. This explains why the Oropians received undefined citizenship, but their territory became Boiotian. Their situation mirrored that of those poleis and towns in the Parasopia and elsewhere that synoikised with the Thebans during the Peloponnesian War.Footnote ²¹⁹ The exploitation of these fertile lands was a benefit to the koinon and the Tanagraian polis. The incorporation of this district into Boiotia proper ensured any future qualms over the Oropians’ political affinity could be dispelled. ‘Boiotianisation’ of Oropos thus cemented the koinon’s claim to the territory. In any future disputes the case for ascribing these lands to Boiotia was solid. Should a polity accept a treaty with them, the other party would implicitly accept the Oropia as part of the koinon.

So how did the Athenians respond to the integration of the Oropia into the koinon? Admittedly, our sources remain silent about the issue. The silence suggests the Athenians did not regard inference in Oropos as an affront. The recent support for the Athenian democrats possibly abetted their restraint (Chapters 3.2.2, 3.3, 5.2.7).

The Athenians were reluctant to transform the Oropia into a source of antagonism. In 395 they agreed to an alliance with the koinon, which included accepting the Boiotians’ claim to the Oropia. Perhaps they had hopes of reclaiming the Oropia by making Boiotia part of the new Athenian empire, as the Theban ambassador implies in Xenophon’s Hellenica.Footnote ²²⁰ We have to ascribe either an incredible premonitory vision to Athenian leadership or an unwillingness to force a dispute over the Oropia if it threatened a possible liaison with the koinon.

Nor did the Oropia stand in the way of future relations between the neighbours. The King’s Peace of 387/6 forced the Boiotians to grant the Oropia’s inhabitants their independence.Footnote ²²¹ This was short-lived, as the Oropians returned to the Athenian fold in 374, at a time of renewed successful neighbourly collaboration (Chapters 2.4, 3.4.3).Footnote ²²²

According to the Isocratic pamphlet Plataicus, there were concerns in Oropian society over the recent Theban expansionism within the region, prompting their approach for Athenian protection. Following Isocrates this protection came with a loss of independence and territory. In exchange parts of the precious Oropian woodlands were offered to the Athenians, as suggested by Denis Knoepfler.Footnote ²²³ Isocrates writes the following: ‘And yet what man would not detest the greedy spirit of these Thebans, who seek to rule the weaker, but think they must be on terms of equality with the stronger and who begrudge your city the territory ceded by the Oropians, yet themselves forcibly seize and portion out territory not their own?’Footnote ²²⁴

This private pamphlet is dated to 373, acting as a terminus ante quem for the Oropia’s allegiance to Athens. Isocrates’ virulent anti-Theban attitude, combined with the nature of the Plataicus to act as a foil for expressing a localised dispute and excoriation of the heinous deeds enacted against the Plataians, make for an explosive mix. The private circulation of the piece further clouds the murkier aspects of the political shift. The Oropians are portrayed as acting in unison. Yet the approach only involved smaller segments of society rather than the whole community. It thus excludes parts of Oropian society less encumbered by Theban advances. Voluntarily relinquishing one’s independence for protection is quite remarkable. As described above, discord raged in Oropia on other occasions, so it is more likely the Athenians took advantage of a febrile situation in the border town to ensure its allegiance. Isocrates’ claims can be doubted, but control over the Oropia is confirmed by Pandios’ decree concerning the maintenance of the sanctuary of Amphiaraos, dated to 369/8.Footnote ²²⁵ In Denis Knoepfler’s terms, the Oropia became a ‘clérouquies dissimulée’, a hidden cleruchy. It is an elusive term, but implies that control over the district was firm and top-down, with Athenian elements occupying leading positions and owning and distributing lands that previously belonged to the original inhabitants.Footnote ²²⁶ The mechanisms of Athenian occupation therefore appear to have been less benign than Isocrates would like us to believe.

Yet the question remains: Why were the Athenians interested in annexing part of the Oropia, or even subjugating the entire region, if it could endanger the delicate alliance with their Theban neighbours, an important ally in the war against the Spartans? One needs to look at the recent events in Boiotia for a better understanding of the situation. The Theban attacks on Plataia and Thespiai were probably incentivised by the renewal of hostilities with the Spartans in 373. These poleis occupied a front-line position and had acted as stepping-stones for Spartan invasions. Reinforcing the defences of the koinon at these places, even violently, made strategic sense, also for the Athenians. Oropos, however, lay outside the scope of a renewed Spartan conflict. Its inclusion into the koinon offered no benefits to the Athenians. The potential repercussions for accepting the Oropians as protectorates may have been assuaged by their willingness to transfer some of the town’s precious woodlands to the Athenians in exchange for protection against the Thebans.Footnote ²²⁷ The economic exploitation of these woodlands included apiculture and hunting, but, more importantly, the pine resin so essential for preserving ships. With the previous war’s economic burdens lingering in Athens, the opportunity to obtain such profitable land was too tempting to refuse.Footnote ²²⁸

The Theban response has not been preserved. Maybe they were as enraged as Isocrates holds, but his known prejudice against them, plus its reference in the highly acerbic Plataicus, diminishes its historicity. The private nature of the pamphlet further restricts its value as a reflection of Theban attitudes, considering its limited audience already may have harboured negative views of the neighbours. The repetition of the familiar trope of their baseness adhered to their previous assumptions. Perhaps there were some dismayed Thebans, but the majority embraced the Athenian alliance. The Oropia’s appealing aspects were less stringent for the Thebans than they were for the Athenians. There were no plans for maritime domination as Boiotia needed to be pacified first. As long as the Athenians abstained from intervening in that policy, it was an acceptable status quo. Finally, the Oropians were independent prior to their new alignment. Their Athenian alliance did not subtract from Boiotian territory but did take away the possibility of convivially reintegrating the Oropia into the koinon.

In the wake of Athenian hesitance to act against Theban expansionism within Boiotia, I would contend the takeover of Oropos was accepted by the Thebans either as a quid pro quo or as a fortification of their ally’s position.Footnote ²²⁹ A final possibility is that the Thebans were unwilling to act, as they valued the alliance and regarded their involvement in Oropos less obtrusive than a possible involvement in Plataia or Thespiai. Considering their later actions and adherence to the alliance until after Leuktra (see Chapter 3.1.3), that is a likely suggestion.

Oropos thus was not the cause of friction or, worse, a dissolution of friendly relations. In the years following the Athenian takeover of the Oropia, proponents of a pro-Theban policy were still dominant in Athens and vice versa. Only when relations foundered because of the alliance with the Spartans did the Oropia revert to a desideratum (Chapter 3.1.3). The breakdown in relations reignited tensions over the borderlands.

The cold war in the borders turned warm in 366. Oropian exiles plotted with the Eretrian tyrant Themison to expel the Athenians and install a different regime. A Theban intervention prevented further escalation as Athenian forces approached, but instead of reverting control to the Eretrians, the Thebans decided to retain control over the city. The Athenians marched to Oropos but declined to engage in combat, hamstrung by their allies’ unwillingness to fight the koinon and violate the peace.Footnote ²³⁰ Instead, the matter was parlayed to an interstate arbitration to determine the rightful owner.Footnote ²³¹ The arbitrators decided in the Thebans’ favour and vindicated their claim to the territory.Footnote ²³² The basis for this decision cannot be established. Xenophon omits the outcome of the arbitration, but Kallistratos, the architect of the anti-Theban stand, was tried shortly after the loss of Oropos for his role in the affair.Footnote ²³³ How these events unfolded is indicative of the Athenian position. Having forfeited their alliance with the Boiotians, their border security became increasingly tenuous. Their allies’ lacklustre response demonstrates they were unwilling to sacrifice money and manpower to uphold Athenian ambitions.

This event made clear to the Athenians the fragility of their control over the borders and demonstrated the dangerous potential of Theban-Euboian cooperation. The loss unveiled the weaknesses in the Athenian military organisation because of an inadequate response to the threat. Inadvertently, it could have led to a re-organisation of the defensive command structure to improve the border defences and increase the military expertise in defending the frontier by creating the office of ‘general of the countryside’ (στρατηγὸς ἐπὶ τὴν χώραν).Footnote ²³⁴

The decision to retain control over the Oropia fulfilled the Boiotians’ desire to establish a stronger presence in the Aegean and erode Athenian power diplomatically, as reflected in their naval programme of the 360s.Footnote ²³⁵ The Oropia and its pinewoods granted them access to a large reservoir of resin, essential for the maintenance of their fleet. The harbour added to the infrastructure required for the construction and maintenance of the proposed fleet. At the same time, the capture of Oropos weakened the Athenian economy and its position in the Euboian Gulf, ensuring the recent Boiotian-Euboian alignment remained firmly in place.

The repercussions of the Oropia’s loss were felt in Athens. Chabrias and Kallistratos, the responsible generals, were prosecuted but acquitted for their role.Footnote ²³⁶ Indirectly, they were held responsible for steering the Athenians into a pro-Spartan policy that resulted in the Theban takeover of Oropos. It is tempting to interpret these actions as deeds by the regretful Athenians, who were worried over further territorial losses.

What this suggests, in my opinion, is that territorial disputes emerged during hostile times and were the result, rather than the cause, of hostilities. Otherwise, the Thebans would not have waited several years before capturing the Oropia during peacetime, nor would they have neglected to act against the Athenians should the occasion arise. It is not my intention to exculpate the Boiotian koinon of any wrongdoing. Obviously, the decision was made to retain the Oropia for their own purpose, rather than to offer it to the Eretrians or to grant it independence. Yet their willingness to settle the matter in an arbitration shows their ‘spear-won’ land did not prevent them from looking for a diplomatic solution. Either the Boiotians thought their role as guarantors of the Common Peace of 366/5 propagandistically prohibited them from starting a war over disputed lands or they were not willing to let the friction over the ownership of the Oropia escalate into a war with the Athenians.

In 366/5 we witness the potential of the Oropia as a tool for external powers to influence the political landscape of Central Greece. One of the terms of the Common Peace of 366/5 enforced by the Boiotians and Persian King was the acceptance of Boiotian claims to Oropos. The treaty was accepted in exchange for a vindication of Athenian claims to Amphipolis, according to Demosthenes.Footnote ²³⁷ If the compact is historically trustworthy, the willingness to relinquish the claim to Oropos is significant, even in return for the claim to Amphipolis, a loss that had been lamented for the last sixty years. The treaty shows how external powers were able to establish stability or alter the political landscape of Greece with the help of settling disputes over contested areas.Footnote ²³⁸ The disputed borderlands, Oropia included, were thus not an unsurmountable challenge to normalising relations between the Athenians and Boiotians, or the root cause of conflict.

The loss of the Oropia embodied the anti-Theban course the Athenians pursued since 369. It was a hotly debated issue in the Assembly, considering its recurrence in Athenian oratory. This reflects the repercussions of the growing Boiotian power at the expense of the Athenians. Indeed, there was no worse neighbour than a hostile, powerful koinon, and it showed through the loss of the Oropia.Footnote ²³⁹ Of course, this partly depends on our source material. There are hardly speeches left from the fifth century. The lack thereof makes it harder to gauge whether the Oropia entered the political debate, as it did during the height of Atheno-Boiotian tensions in the mid-fourth century. Since the Oropia remained in Athenian hands for most of the fifth century, other areas like the Skourta plain or the Parasopia were more likely used as exemplary results of hostile relations with the Boiotians.

Other powers were aware of the Oropos’ status as a desideratum. Demosthenes’ speech On Behalf of the Megapolitans offers a glimpse. In 353/2, convulsions in the Peloponnese led to a situation in which the Athenians could act against Spartan interests by supporting the Megalopolitans, an ally of the Boiotians. The Spartans promised the Athenians the return of Oropos for their support in reclaiming the Spartan dominance over the Peloponnese:

The Athenians rejected the Spartan offer. Yet the dangling of the Oropia as a reward shows they were aware of topical debates in the Assembly. Their best option to persuade the decision-makers was the recapture of this region. At the same time, the rejection of the proposal shows the Oropia was not enough of an incentive to wage war on the Boiotians.Footnote ²⁴¹ Even when the koinon was at their weakest after several harrowing defeats in the Sacred War, the Oropia was not worth the risk for many Athenians. It was easier to decry the Boiotians’ ‘unlawful’ possession of the Oropia, rather than act to recover it. Similarly, the looming threat of a Boiotian attack on the Skourta plain – which never materialised – prompted Demosthenes to decry the current state of affairs in Athens. Rather than march out to capture Oropos, the Athenians were clinging to their possessions.Footnote ²⁴²

That Athenian attitude is also reflected in the aftermath of the Third Sacred War (357–346). Despite a defeat at the hands of Philip and his Boiotian allies, pro-Macedonian segments believed Philip would grant Oropos in exchange for accepting his claim over Amphipolis.Footnote ²⁴³ Unbelievable as it seems that the Macedonian king would punish his Boiotian allies for the convenience of verifying his capture of Amphipolis, the improbable proposition demonstrates some Athenians put their hopes with external powers to retrieve the Oropia, rather than risk a war with the Boiotians.

Their ambivalent attitude towards Oropos – boastful and warlike in the Assembly, but reluctant and careful in the field – is confirmed by the Athenians’ willingness to relinquish their claims to the Oropia for an alliance with the koinon in 339/8. Their amenable decision was partially prompted by the fear of a Macedonian attack but equally shows disputed territories could be bartered for and formed no obstacle to harmonious relations (Chapter 3.4.4).

These conditions changed with the Macedonian victory at Chaironeia in 338. Shortly after, Philip’s grand designs for Central Greece began to take shape. The king granted the Oropians their independence.Footnote ²⁴⁴ By detaching them from the koinon, he guaranteed himself a loyal enclave between Athens and Boiotia. The independence of Oropos moreover created a buffer to weaken the koinon’s defences, in addition to other changes in the political landscape of Boiotia.Footnote ²⁴⁵ Scholars viewed the detachment of the Oropia as a punishment for the koinon, which it clearly was. But at the same time, it endangered Athenian defences. Philip could now land troops close to the Attic border and march in should the situation require it.

The detachment of the Oropians also had a more devious effect: it transformed the territory into something that could be used to influence the Athenians or the koinon. Unlike the Persian King or the Spartans, who could only confirm the status quo or promise the recapture of the territory, Philip’s military power enabled him to actually grant these lands to loyal allies. Whether he was planning to eventually grant the Oropia to another polis is unknown. Perhaps he would have done so after a successful campaign against the Persians. Regardless of future intentions, he created a situation in which he or any future Macedonian king could use it as a reward for unconditional loyalty, a prerogative unavailable to earlier powers.

His foresight was confirmed during the Theban rebellion at the start of his son’s reign (335). After Alexander subjugated the Thebans and destroyed their city, Oropos was reverted to the Athenians for the latter’s loyalty and to punish the Oropians for supporting competitors for the Macedonian throne (Chapters 2.7, 5.3). By putting them under Athenian control, he availed himself of this opportunity to reward the Athenians for their reticent attitude during the Theban revolt and strengthen the position of his loyal subjects in Central Greece. The Oropia was thus the perfect pawn for Alexander to play on the chessboard that was Central Greece.

The subsequent treatment of the district by the Athenians reveals the economic impact of the Oropia’s return. In addition to the lavish celebrations to commemorate its return, the exploitation of its lands demonstrated the profits the citizens garnered from the new lands. A law on the Lesser Panathenaia details the conditions for funding the sacrifices to the goddess Athena from the proceedings of leases on properties in the Nea.Footnote ²⁴⁶ Another law details the allocation of territory in the Oropia along tribal lines.Footnote ²⁴⁷ These changes formed part of the extensive Lycurgan programme, aimed at rejuvenating the economy and strengthening its military.Footnote ²⁴⁸ The important place of the Oropia within the Lycurgan scheme is clear from the increased efforts to promulgate Athenian control at the sanctuary of Amphiaraos. The clearest indication thereof comes from the ephebic presence at the Amphiareion, confirming the sanctuary and its lands belonged to Athens, guarded by its forces (Chapter 5.3).Footnote ²⁴⁹

In contrast to earlier times, there was no Athenian garrison in the Oropia. One possible explanation is the presence of a garrison at Rhamnous. Another holds that a garrison-free Oropos was imposed by Alexander.Footnote ²⁵⁰ If this is correct, the de-militarisation of the zone means Alexander could intervene in Oropos should the Athenians resist him, reminding them how this liminal land served as a gateway to Attica for the Macedonians. The gift of the Oropia was a friendly gesture, but equally a reminder of the new state of affairs in Greece. Nevertheless, the decision to grant Oropos to the Athenians was a sound one. Actions against the Macedonians would now inevitably be weighed against the territorial repercussions of a rebellious attitude, especially since Philip and Alexander had shown no qualms about enforcing territorial changes to regulate the Greek poleis’ behaviour towards the Macedonians. Judging from the rapid succession of political changes in the Oropia’s fortunes under the Diadochoi, it seems the successors to the Macedonian throne took a page from the same book, employing the Oropia as the ideal tool to recalibrate and sway the loyalties of poleis in Central Greece.Footnote ²⁵¹

In sum, the Oropia was a bone of contention between the Athenians and Boiotians, possibly as early as the sixth century. The fortunes of its inhabitants were often dependent on the fluctuations of power in Central Greece, with waning Athenian influence giving way to Eretrian involvement and Boiotian control. Its status as a desideratum is undeniable. Yet it became only one in the fourth century, when the Oropia became a frequent topos in Athenian oratory to signify the state of affairs since the rise of Boiotian power. What is striking is the different treatment of the Oropians. Whereas the Athenians exploited the lands like a cleruchy, the Boiotians integrated the Oropia into their koinon, rather than keeping it as a separate territory to be exploited.Footnote ²⁵² Perhaps this attitude, combined with the change of fortunes in Boiotian power, explains why the Oropia was always forcibly detached from the koinon by external forces, but chose to detach itself from the Athenians when the occasion arose.

That difference in attitude is reflected in later times. Two examples suffice to illustrate the point. In 295 the Oropians proclaim their utility to the Boiotian koinon should they obtain the funds to repair the city’s walls, demonstrating a willingness to belong to the koinon and contribute as a member.Footnote ²⁵³ The situation was different during Roman rule. The koinon had hardly been disbanded by the Romans before the Athenians launched a full-scale attack on the Oropia to reconquer this territory. Undoubtedly their audacity was fuelled by their friendship with the Romans, but they were severely punished.Footnote ²⁵⁴ The longing for this district continued inexorably, as ephebes visited the shrine on their obligatory tour of Attica in 122/1, as if it belonged to Athens.Footnote ²⁵⁵ The Oropia continued to occupy the minds of the Athenians long after their position in the Greek world became dependent on external powers such as the Macedonians and the Romans. It was these external powers who determined the political alignment of the Oropia instead of direct neighbourly interaction, a fate in which the Boiotians perhaps acquiesced more than the Athenians did.

4.1.3 In the Shadow of Mount Kithairon: Plataia and the Parasopia

Nestled beneath the slopes of Mount Kithairon, Plataia and the Parasopia were the ideal guardians to discourage hostile forces from entering Boiotia (see Figure 4.7). The passes over Mount Kithairon connected the main axis between the Peloponnese and northern Greece running through the Corinthia and Megarid.Footnote ²⁵⁶ The inclusion of Plataia into a common Boiotian polity was of paramount importance. Conversely, from an Athenian perspective the town could act as the perfect outpost to obstruct incursions into Attica from Boiotia.

Figure 4.7

Plataia and its relation to Thebes, Athens and other borderlands.

The Parasopia runs from Mount Kithairon in the south to the Soros range in the north. The eastern border is marked by the Asopos gorge to the east of the modern town of Asopia. A defining feature of the district is the Asopos river, which flows through the entire region as its hugs the border between Thebes and Plataia.Footnote ²⁵⁷ In the south lies the town of Hysiai, which acts as the gateway to the Mazi plain, which can be reached through the Kaza pass.Footnote ²⁵⁸ The Parasopia is dominated by plain landscapes, even at a higher altitude, with the exceptions of those parts lodged beneath Mount Kithairon. The river provides further alluvial deposits, creating a long, narrow stretch of fertile lands located on easily reachable lands.

On a local level, the fertile lands of the Plataike, courtesy of the alluvial deposits from the Asopos river, were eyed by their more prosperous and stronger neighbours in Boiotia, the Thebans and the Tanagraians.Footnote ²⁵⁹ The latter should not be overlooked, despite the lack of interest in their role by previous scholars.Footnote ²⁶⁰ There was thus a tripartite intra-regional rivalry for the resources of the Parasopia. The convulsions on the Attic-Boiotian frontier, including Athenian interference on behalf of the Plataians, should be seen from that perspective.

The earliest clashes occurred at the end of the sixth century. Around that time a pattern of ‘Boiotian’ expansionism in the Parasopia can be detected (see Figure 4.8). Ephoros describes a group called the Thebageneis, which were communities added to Thebes:

Figure 4.8

Close-up of Parasopia.

The symbolical expression of this dependency came in the form of tripods, dedicated at the temple of Apollo Ismenios in Thebes.Footnote ²⁶² These dedications were an open admission of loyalty to the Thebans as Nassos Papalexandrou clarifies.Footnote ²⁶³ It could have occurred in the context of the border conflicts at the end of the sixth century, with the Thebans establishing a firmer grasp over these disputed lands.

Because these communities were all located in the Parasopia, the Thebans, acting as proxies for the Boiotoi, may have wished to confirm their loyalty. It firmed up their control of the borderlands, especially in the wake of their attack on Attica in 507/6. Perhaps the Plataians were asked for a similar display due to their previous ties to the Athenians, or because the Thebans required the support of this strategically important polis. This pressure led to the Atheno-Plataian alliance in the later sixth century (Chapter 3.1.1).

That interpretation tallies well with Herodotus’ account. The Plataians were hard-pressed by the Thebans to contribute to the Boiotoi.Footnote ²⁶⁴ Normally, the verb ‘πιεζω’ is used in the Histories to denote control over resources and often involves border disputes. Presumably, the Thebans and Tanagraians were pressuring the Plataians for resources in the campaign against the Athenians, or for the subjugation of the Parasopia. The subsequent settlement by the Corinthians of this intra-Boiotian dispute, in which the outlines of the respective chorai of both poleis were affixed with parts of the Parasopia granted to surrounding Boiotian communities, supports this interpretation. This can be gathered from Herodotus’ remark that the Athenians, after their victory over the Boiotians, went beyond the boundaries set by the Corinthians. They then fixed the boundary between Thebes and Plataia at the Asopos river.Footnote ²⁶⁵ An additional clause prohibited the Thebans from (militarily) acting against communities unwilling to ‘τελέειν’ to the Boiotoi.Footnote ²⁶⁶

The translation of this verb has caused some debate. Emily Mackil proposed an interpretation that incorporates the financial connotations of the verb in Herodotus’ work by translating the phrase as ‘contributing to the Boiotoi’.Footnote ²⁶⁷ These contributions could have taken the form of economic support or a demonstration of loyalty similar to those made by the Thebageneis. The latter interpretation carries economic connotations: transferring territory equally included its resources. This was a radical departure from the previous relationship, based on the (unpublished) bronze plaques found in Thebes detailing the sales of lands from all over Boiotia. These mention Theban-owned possessions in the Parasopia (ἐπ’Ασοπõ; δι’Ασοπõ and ποτ’Εὐάκροιδι’Ασοπõ), suggesting the borders had not been an issue hitherto.Footnote ²⁶⁸ One could even claim the neighbours lived in peaceful co-existence.Footnote ²⁶⁹

If it concerned a transfer of territory under the guise of sharing in ta patria of the koinon, the Plataians’ reluctance to ‘contribute’ is more understandable. Surrendering the land was not just symbolic; with it came a loss of autonomy, unlike the Athenian alliance. Although the relationship was hierarchical, a status as an Athenian protectorate was preferable, because it shielded the Plataians from further aggression in exchange for their political autonomy, but without relinquishing their chora (Chapters 3.1.1, 3.5).Footnote ²⁷⁰ For the Athenians such an arrangement was preferable too. As an emerging power, the support of a subordinate polis granted them not only prestige, but also manpower. The Plataians, through their strategic location overseeing the passes at Mount Kithairon, could act as a buffer against Boiotian aggression and possibly offered direct access to a harbour on the Corinthian Gulf.Footnote ²⁷¹

The Plataians and Athenians may have forged a symbolic physical connection of their symbiosis. If Plutarch’s testimony of the Battle of Plataia in 479 is to be accepted, the Plataians removed their horoi demarcating their border with the Athenians prior to the battle. This created a contiguous territory, in accordance with an oracle that proclaimed the battle would be won on Athenian soil in the plain of Eleusinian Demeter and Kore. Apparently, an abandoned shrine dedicated to the goddesses was found on the border, implying the cult had been established there. This probably reflects a later tradition. If it does not, the shrine may have been a vestige of the late sixth century, with the sanctuary demarcating the border, since Demeter’s temples frequently fulfilled that role. The cult was used in other contexts to articulate kinship ties or, more forcibly, the expansion of the Athenian sphere of influence (Chapter 3.5).Footnote ²⁷² The reference to separate chorai conforms with the outline of the Plataian-Athenian alliance and implies the possibility of a cultic exchange. The cult then articulated the border and was part of an effort to strengthen the relationship.

Plataia’s alliance with the Athenians tallies well with the context of the Athenian politicisation of the borderlands in the wake of the invasion of 507/6. Theban actions and insistence on displays of loyalty drew the Plataians into the conflict and allowed the Athenians to mingle in Boiotian affairs, which they did with great effectiveness. Fresh from their victory over the Boiotians in 507/6, the Athenians took affirmative actions to stymie the possibility of future incursions into their territory. One preventive step was the alliance with the Plataians. Their territory was expanded to buttress their role as a buffer against Thebans and Tanagraians: ‘The Athenians went beyond the boundaries the Corinthians had made for the Plataians, fixing the Asopos river as the boundary for the Thebans in the direction of Plataia and Hysiai.’Footnote ²⁷³

It was an obvious boost to the Plataians. But the original arbitration is even more striking, since it favoured the Thebans and the Tanagraians. Otherwise, the Athenians could not have surpassed the Corinthian demarcation by affixing the Asopos river as the new boundary, since the river is equidistant from both Thebes and Plataia and cuts across their respective chorai.Footnote ²⁷⁴ The new border arrangement strengthened the Plataians’ position within Boiotia by incorporating Erythrai and Hysiai, adding manpower and resources while removing them from the Thebans and Tanagraians.Footnote ²⁷⁵ Drawing the border at the river, moreover, added a barrier against future incursions, with its currents slowing down enemy troop movements.Footnote ²⁷⁶ The Asopos river symbolically represented the recalibration of the political relations in the Parasopia. While the river is invisible from the Cadmeia or Thebes, the inhabitants of Plataia and other Parasopian communities could see it, understanding that it served as a natural testament of the Plataians’ increased power.Footnote ²⁷⁷ The addition of these lands to the Plataian territory functioned as a shield against encroachment on the Skourta plain.

These shifts can be perceived as aggressive expansion at the expense of others, but, at the same time, the demarcation of a new border stabilised the situation in southern Boiotia. Geographical boundaries, like the Asopos river, were more permanent and could diminish the likelihood of another dispute over the delineation of the Plataian, Theban and Tanagraian territory.Footnote ²⁷⁸ It proved very effective, considering the borders between these Boiotian polities were never again an issue. Future conflicts revolved around the incorporation of the entire Plataike, rather than a re-shuffling of the borders between the Boiotian neighbours.

Plataia again occupied a central place in the Atheno-Boiotian relations during the Persian Wars (480–479). After the fall of Thermopylai, the Boiotians changed sides and fought on behalf of the Persians. The Plataians continued to resist the invaders and were punished by having their town burned to the ground.Footnote ²⁷⁹ Its destruction allowed the Thebans and Tanagraians to retract the changes made in 507/6 by incorporating the Plataike into their territory. Combined with the destruction of Athens, the Boiotians now controlled the Mount Kithairon-Parnes range, which could be guaranteed by a Persian victory.Footnote ²⁸⁰

That victory never happened. The Hellenic League drove the Persian troops from the mainland after the Battle of Plataia in 479. This victory had a discernible effect on Plataia and its territory. In recognition of their sacrifices and to honour the lands in which freedom was won, the members of the Hellenic League granted the Plataians a form of territorial inviolability after the war.Footnote ²⁸¹ This special status was similar to that of Panhellenic sanctuaries. The Plataike now existed as a neutral zone that rose above Greek interstate politics.Footnote ²⁸²

Technically, this meant a diminution of Athenian influence. The protection of the Plataians was no longer their prerogative, but the responsibility of all the members of the Hellenic League. In practice, however, the Plataians continued to entertain an intimate relationship with their Athenian neighbours.Footnote ²⁸³ The ‘Panhellenic’ skein of diplomatic relations was meant to ensure the site’s neutrality and prevent the Athenians from monopolising the site of Plataia as a lieu de mémoire.Footnote ²⁸⁴ In light of the increased tensions between the Spartans and Athenians after the war, and the eventual dissolution of the Hellenic League in the early 470s, the struggle over Plataia is unsurprising.Footnote ²⁸⁵

Strategic considerations also played a role. The Plataians controlled the passes into Boiotia from the Peloponnese. Its neutrality kept the route into Central Greece open. The ‘Panhellenic’ protection of the polis was a security against future Boiotian expansion.Footnote ²⁸⁶ Reinforcing this role were the fortifications of the town. The size and dimensions of the walls may have been expanded or the walls were constructed for the first time.Footnote ²⁸⁷ Intra muros there was now enough space to shelter the population of the surrounding communities in the event of an attack, symbolising Plataia’s role as a regional refuge.

Another function of the walls lay in its symbolic significance. These imposing fortifications not only protected Plataia from outside harm, but reflected its contrasting position on the Boiotian border. Ethnically, the Plataians always regarded themselves as Boiotians. Their ancient role as a locus of Boiotian mythology confirms that.Footnote ²⁸⁸ Politically, the situation was different. Plataia had deliberately separated itself from Boiotia at the end of the sixth century and these walls were a manifestation of that division. The fortifications served as a testimony to the division, with the Plataians performing the role of dissenters whose recalcitrance fractured the security of Boiotia in the interest of external powers.

In the following decades, the Plataians continued to foster this ambivalent attitude. They loyally followed the Athenians on most campaigns, including the help for the Spartans against the Messenian revolt in the 460s.Footnote ²⁸⁹ They also started the construction of the temple of Athena Areia. Its sculptural and pictorial programme displayed the Plataians’ view of the Persian Wars as an internecine struggle, a fraternal conflict between the Plataians and their Boiotian brethren.Footnote ²⁹⁰ They remained anxious of their neighbours and fostered a more antagonistic attitude towards medism than the Athenians did, even when the latter fostered friendlier relations with the koinon.

Yet the Plataians appear to have voluntarily joined the koinon after the Battle of Koroneia in 446. That is implied by the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia’s author when he describes the koinon’s federal system in 395: ‘the Thebans contributed four (Boiotarchs), two for the polis, and two for the Plataians with Skolos and Erythrai and Skaphai and the other places which originally were part of their (the Plataians’) polis but which were, at the time of which I write, absorbed into Thebes.’Footnote ²⁹¹

Without a Plataian participation in the koinon, the Theban incorporation of their votes after the town’s destruction in 427 makes no sense. They must have been members, since other interpretations involve convoluted reconstructions or retrojections.Footnote ²⁹² It appears the Plataians had their cake and ate it too. The participation in the koinon did not sever their alliance with the Athenians.Footnote ²⁹³ That they were included in the new federal structure despite this arrangement is a testament to their importance for the regional security of Boiotia.Footnote ²⁹⁴ A hostile Plataia could act as a doorstep for hostile armies wishing a secure entry into Boiotia. By convincing the Plataians to join a more equal koinon, there was a chance for the koinon to procure this polis for the defence of the region. It shows that Theban control over the Plataiake was not essential to normalise their relations.

It was a precarious arrangement, but one that demonstrates the value of these lands for both polities. For the Plataians it was a preferable arrangement. Previous attempts to incorporate the Plataians into the Boiotoi involved the surrender of territorial sovereignty. Their participation in the new, more equitable koinon required no such submission. The combination of maintaining their territory while participating in the koinon, which diminished the possibility of a renewed conflict with the Thebans or Tanagraians, was the perfect deal.

The delicate arrangement was short-lived. Plataia must have seceded from the koinon sometime between 446 and 431, leaving the Boiotians vulnerable. This awareness explains the clandestine manoeuvre by a group of Thebans colluding with their Plataian peers. They intended to overthrow the current regime and bring the polis back into the koinon’s fold.Footnote ²⁹⁵ Thucydides adds they undertook this action in anticipation of war. The conspirators hoped to achieve a peaceful reconciliation, reintegrate the Plataians and sever ties with the Athenians.Footnote ²⁹⁶ But the clandestine operation failed, and the escalation of the situation within Plataia’s walls led to the brutal slaughter of the Theban intruders. Soon afterwards, the town was besieged by Peloponnesian and Boiotian forces (Chapter 2.4).

The siege was meant to elicit a response from the Athenians, which never came. Their restraint is remarkable, considering Plataia’s strategic importance, let alone the emotional ties. They were aware of possible repercussions of the murder of the Thebans in Plataia, as a garrison was sent out to reinforce the town.Footnote ²⁹⁷ Perhaps they expected the oaths of 479 to be intact, which would prevent a Spartan-Boiotian collaboration against Plataia. The town’s connotations with the hallowed grounds of freedom made it difficult to attack without exhausting other options.

The Spartans insisted on the Plataians’ neutrality to avoid the appearance of violating their oath to defend the town. The Plataian rejection of the offer left the Spartans with little choice but to accomplish militarily what could not be done diplomatically: the abrogation of the Athenian-Plataian alliance. The preferred option was a surrender after a prolonged siege. A surrender took away the diplomatic option of restoring Plataia as an unlawfully conquered territory. The Boiotians technically had no rightful claim and could not rely on the argument of ‘spear-won’ land. A voluntary surrender, however, annulled the efficacy of any arguments for its restoration or as a bargaining chip to be exchanged for geopolitical interests.Footnote ²⁹⁸

The Plataians surrendered in 427. Megarian exiles and pro-Theban Plataians inhabited their lands afterwards. When the year passed, the entire town was razed save for its sanctuaries, its territory granted to wealthy Thebans on ten-year leases.Footnote ²⁹⁹ Interestingly, they were the only ones to directly profit from the incorporation of the Plataike, apparently leaving the Tanagraians out of the proceeds. Their exclusion could be the result of the re-arrangements in the koinon’s tele after 446, which granted the Tanagraians territory on the eastern seaboard.Footnote ³⁰⁰

Physically, the town no longer existed, but the remaining citizens continued to form a community under Theban aegis. Presumably, the pro-koinon Plataians moved to Thebes, whose massive fortifications provided the necessary security, symbolising its role as a safe haven for Boiotia and its communities. This negated the need for the Plataians to live in the ruins of their town as the lands of the Parasopia could be tilled from Thebes.Footnote ³⁰¹ The construction of accommodations and a new temple for the Hera cult were signs of continuity and symbolised the care taken by the Thebans to preserve the town’s cult.Footnote ³⁰² At the same time, the new buildings in the sacred landscape promulgated novelty, inaugurating a new period for the Parasopia under the koinon’s wings. One possible expression of Plataia’s incorporation was the re-organisation of the Daidala festival. The festival was intimately connected to Plataian history and involved the delineation of the town’s chora in a ritual procession.Footnote ³⁰³ Could it be that the Daidala cult developed from a local celebration into a cult with a pan-Boiotian twist at this time? In that case, the cult enacted the ritual unification of Boiotia, suturing the Plataia-sized wound in the landscape.Footnote ³⁰⁴

The integration of the Parasopia into the Theban chora not only served strategic purposes, but also symbolically represented the cohesion of the koinon against external threats. Plataia had been a thorn in the Boiotians’ side for some eighty years. Even a brief interlude of integration after Koroneia (446) did not remedy this wound. As long as the town existed as an Athenian bulwark, it would threaten the unity of the koinon and its borders. The safety of the koinon was promulgated by the Thebans in the aftermath of Plataia’s destruction when several communities from the vulnerable borderlands and the eastern seaboard synoikised with the Thebans to protect them against Athenian incursions in 426 and 424:Footnote ³⁰⁵

In one swift move, the Thebans tethered large swaths of Boiotia to its chora and obtained a harbour on the eastern seaboard, ensuring it was the dominant polis in the region.

Their strategy seems to have worked. Restoring Plataia by force ended in failure, thus the Athenians resorted to a diplomatic restoration in the negotiations for the Peace of Nicias in 421. They insisted on Plataia’s restitution under the terms that every party involved in the peace agreement should return the possessions captured in the war. The Boiotians retorted by stating Plataia was not captured but had willingly surrendered and did not constitute territory won by the spear:

This argument was accepted by the Athenians so they could retain Nisaia. They were willing to accept the Plataike as part of the Theban chora to conclude a peace treaty but insisted on the return of Panakton.Footnote ³⁰⁸ This palliative was a tough pill to swallow for the Boiotians, who refused the treaty, instead preferring to subsist on ten-day truces (Chapter 3.1.2). It is striking that the Athenians were more adamant about the return of Panakton than Plataia (Chapter 4.1.1). Were they simply not willing to relinquish Nisaia for Plataia, or were other factors at stake? Perhaps they believed Panakton could be returned, whereas the restitution of Plataia created more issues. A more cynical interpretation is that the Plataike simply was not worth the hassle for the Athenians, whereas the exploitation of the Skourta plain directly benefitted them. In addition, the Plataians were a valuable additional source of manpower for the Athenians, whose forces had been drained by a decade of war and plague.Footnote ³⁰⁹ Hopes of ending the Plataians’ exile with a return to their homeland vanished when the treaty was confirmed, and the Athenians used Skione in northern Greece to establish a Plataian cleruchy.Footnote ³¹⁰

What stands out about this episode is the Athenian willingness to sacrifice the Plataians for a stable relationship with the Boiotians by way of a binding treaty. It is a recurring theme in the Atheno-Boiotian relations from this point onward. The Boiotians made a valid point about the wilful surrender of the town. Unlike the Athenian fortification of Panakton, the capture of Plataia did not constitute a major breach of an intact treaty and was therefore less of an impediment to neighbourly relations. Plataia did not directly provide the Athenians with bountiful harvests and fertile grazing lands, unlike the Skourta plain. Neither did the town’s strategic benefits outweigh a stable relationship with the Boiotians, especially in a situation like 421 when they posed the most imminent threat. Retaining the empire in exchange for the Plataians was a small sacrifice to make if it meant an end to hostilities.

That overall strategic Athenian considerations outweighed the Plataians’ plight becomes clear after the Peloponnesian War. In 395 the Athenians and the Boiotians agreed to an alliance. The reference to the ‘Boiotoi’, rather than Xenophon’s Thebans, means that the Athenians accepted their claims over the Plataike.Footnote ³¹¹ The Plataian exile community in Athens must have exerted significant pressure to raise their restitution in the Assembly. Nevertheless, the advantage of a Boiotian alliance weighed heavier than their restitution. The situation allowed for such a demand. With Spartan armies on the borders, the Boiotians were in a predicament, yet the Athenians neglected to press for the town’s restoration. Acting as an Athenian buffer, the koinon was a more valuable ally than the Plataians.

The Athenians’ behaviour must have aggrieved some Plataians. It was this grief and ‘abandonment’ the Spartans exploited in 387/6 when they used the terms of the King’s Peace to end the Plataians’ exile.Footnote ³¹² The restoration of Plataia served a multifocal purpose. By fulfilling their long-cherished wish and forging an alliance with the Plataians, the Spartans assured themselves of a loyal enclave that guaranteed unobstructed access over the passes of Mount Kithairon and hindered a Atheno-Boiotian united front against forces coming in from the Peloponnese.Footnote ³¹³ Moreover, the Plataian hinterland acted as an ideal stepping-stone to land troops from the Peloponnese via the Corinthian Gulf, should the passes over Mount Kithairon be obstructed by hostile forces.Footnote ³¹⁴

Although the Athenians lost no possessions because of the King’s Peace, the dissolution of the koinon and the establishment of pro-Spartan enclaves weakened their position by negating Boiotia’s role as a buffer for Attica. A bonus for the Spartans was the propagandistic value of restoring Plataia. They championed the unification of the Greeks to fight the Persians in a Panhellenic campaign from the start of the fourth century. Within this context of rampant Panhellenic fervour, guaranteeing the safety of an important lieu de mémoire in the commemoration of the Greeks’ struggle against the Persians was especially prestigious. The restoration improved the Spartans’ Panhellenic credentials while at the same time smearing the Athenians, who were unable to restore the Plataians and fought alongside the medizers. Strategically, the creation of a pro-Spartan enclave at the gates of Mount Kithairon kept the Thebans in check and weakened a future Athenian-Boiotian union against the Spartans.

The Spartan sponsorship became problematic for the Plataians after the Peace of 375. The treaty stipulated the removal of Spartan garrisons from Boiotia, making Plataia’s position increasingly precarious. Earlier Theban attempts to reintegrate the Plataians in the koinon were rejected as the Plataians clung to their alliance with the Spartans. But it was imperative for the Thebans to cement the koinon’s hold over this important border territory, so they launched a successful surprise attack in 373. The Plataians were forced to leave and hand over their town.

Our sources offer conflicting motives for the attack. Diodorus, perhaps reflecting a Theban tradition, lays the onus on the Plataians, who had handed their city to an Athenian garrison in a despairing attempt to cling to their alliance. Yet that alliance is nowhere mentioned between 386 and 373. Their flight to Athens was logical in the wake of their past collaborations and their shared history: the Athenians always considered Plataia as a pseudo-protectorate.Footnote ³¹⁵ Plataian culpability is contradicted by the accounts of Xenophon and Isocrates. Xenophon’s bias requires no introduction, while Isocrates’ Plataicus was written as a defence of the Plataians. Despite their flaws, the accounts fit the situation better. They portray the Plataians (and Thespians) as cleaving to their Spartan connection, leading to their expulsion. If the war with Sparta recommenced in 373, this would explain the lack of Athenian reprisals in the aftermath of Plataia’s destruction (Chapter 2.5).Footnote ³¹⁶

The Plataike and Parasopia were subsequently incorporated into the Theban chora, akin to other subdued neighbours.Footnote ³¹⁷ Sanctuaries and cults were left intact, with the Thebans appropriating them to celebrate the unification of Boiotia.Footnote ³¹⁸ It is a testimony to the central place occupied by the Plataike in the region. After repeated invasions of their countryside, the Thebans solidified the security of their borders and could no longer tolerate the presence of recalcitrant pockets of resistance close by.Footnote ³¹⁹

As before, the Plataians fled southwards to Athens where they received citizenship with certain limitations.Footnote ³²⁰ Xenophon and Isocrates describe an overt outrage over the treatment of Plataia, but despite their appeals, the Atheno-Theban alliance continued. Perhaps fear of confronting their allies hamstrung the Athenians. What I find more plausible is that they did not want to agitate the Thebans over a town that recently collaborated with the Spartans, who were the target of the Confederacy (Chapter 3.4.3).Footnote ³²¹ Isocrates himself nebulously admits the protection offered by the alliance outweighed the plight of the Plataians (Chapter 4.3).Footnote ³²²

It is a recurrent theme of the fourth century, in which Plataia’s importance as a strategic ally for the Athenians slowly dissipated when a Boiotian alliance could be procured. Conversely, the restoration of the Plataians re-emerged in the Athenian conscience when relations turned sour. Throughout the period of hostility (369–339) orators clamoured for the restoration of Plataia.Footnote ³²³ For instance, Demosthenes’ plea in On Behalf of the Megapolitans:

References to the destruction of Plataia were meant to demonstrate the depravity of the Thebans. Their arguments were undoubtedly helped by the presence of refugees.Footnote ³²⁵ Bolstering their efforts was the situation from the early 350s onwards. The Third Sacred War (357–346) pitted the Athenians against the Boiotians and their ‘barbarian’ ally, Philip of Macedon. This Boiotian-barbarian synergy put Plataia, and the deeds of its inhabitants during the Persian Wars, back into the forefront of Athenian minds and helped rekindle their self-proclaimed role as defenders of Greek eleutheria in the face of foreign aggression. Plataia thus continued to play a role as a lieu de mémoire. Appeals to restore the Plataians not only were reflective of strategic interests but also served to promote Athenian propaganda.

Yet intentions of restoring Plataia at the expense of the Boiotians remained in the realm of words. During the Third Sacred War, the Athenians took no action to weaken the koinon, instead focusing their efforts elsewhere. Perhaps they were unable to enforce the restoration of Plataia, but any inclinations thereto were absent. The Boiotian-Macedonian victory in the Third Sacred War impeded any further hopes of restoring the town, despite the fantasies harboured by some Athenians that Philip would punish his allies and return the Plataians to their native home.Footnote ³²⁶ Plataia, in sum, was a perfect ideological stick to hit the Boiotians with at suitable times, but the town’s fate never realistically dominated Athenian objectives after the 420s.

Embodying this ambivalent attitude was the Athenian-Boiotian alliance forged in 339/8. Contrary to all the beautiful words proclaimed in the Assembly in support of the Plataians, its fortunes were sacrificed on the altar of expediency when the opportunity to join forces with the Boiotians presented itself. This decision was precipitated by the threat of a Macedonian invasion, but there were no scruples in accepting the Thebans’ claim to all of Boiotia (Chapter 3.4.4). Similar to the situation in 395, the Theban occupation of Plataia and its lands formed no significant obstacle to a neighbourly alliance. Sacrificing an unattainable goal like the restoration of Plataia for the cooperation of one of the strongest land powers that guarded the passes into Attica did not impede Athenian-Boiotian collaboration.

The Athenian willingness to abandon the Plataian cause in exchange for Boiotian support does not mean other powers were unaware of the site’s value, both strategically and symbolically. The role of Plataia’s protector was dutifully taken up by Philip after his victory at Chaironeia in 338. Compared with his other interventions in the political landscape of Boiotia, the king’s intention to end the Plataians’ odyssey after nearly fifty years was his pièce de résistance.Footnote ³²⁷ His sponsorship of the town served a multifocal purpose. It curbed Theban power by reducing its chora and re-installing a hostile neighbour loyal to the Macedonians in its vicinity, whereas it was a subtle jibe at the Athenians. Philip could now rightfully claim to be the prostates of autonomia, which was of particular importance for the new Common Peace he enforced after the Battle at Chaironeia. The restoration of Plataia allowed Philip to present himself as the champion of eleutheria and Panhellenism, an important ideological statement in preparation for his war against the Persians to exact revenge for their sacrilegious transgressions during the Persian Wars.Footnote ³²⁸

Philip’s premature death prevented the maturation of his plans, but his son Alexander continued the project, propelling Plataia to greater heights, especially after the destruction of Thebes in 335. Alexander granted the Plataians a significant share of the Theban chora and later proclaimed in 331 that the town was to be rebuilt in grandiose fashion, in recognition of its contributions during the Persian Wars of the fifth century.Footnote ³²⁹ His decision to sponsor the Plataians paid dividends for his successors, as the Plataians opposed the Athenians in the Hellenic War of 323.Footnote ³³⁰

In conclusion, Plataia was not a significant obstacle towards neighbourly cooperation in the fourth century. Initially, the obstinate attitude of its inhabitants vis-à-vis the burgeoning koinon, combined with the town’s strategic importance, made the Plataians a valuable ally to the Athenians within the mosaic of the borderlands. Acting as a buffer against Spartan-Boiotian collaboration, Plataia became a key feature of the Athenian defences. The town continued to occupy this position throughout the Persian Wars, which granted it a Panhellenic grandeur as the site where freedom was won. From an Athenian standpoint, Plataia’s relevance subsisted in the spheres of history as the legendary place of Xerxes’ downfall, its inhabitants fighting for the Greek cause against foreign aggression, as opposed to their Theban neighbours. Therefore, the Plataians were the perfect propagandistic tool for the Athenians to employ whenever there was a need to castigate the Thebans.

In an ideal situation, the Athenians possessed both the intimate alliance with the Plataians and the protection offered by a friendly Boiotia, as in the 450s. Realistically, however, its importance as a strategic asset, a purpose that it had served so dutifully for almost a century from 506 onwards, had vanished in the 420s. More often than not, the town was sacrificed for more valuable territories such as the Skourta plain, or courtly relations with the koinon, whose strategic value outweighed Plataia’s. What factored into this tendency was probably that Plataia and the Parasopia, unlike other contested areas like the prosperous Skourta plain, were never directly owned by Athenians and therefore offered no benefits in terms of resources.

4.2.1 The Corinthian Gulf

The Corinthian Gulf promontory was home to several harbours. The largest and best known were Siphai, Kreusis and Chorsiai. All three were located in the territory of Thespiai, which explains the Athenians’ interest in maintaining cordial relations with this polis throughout the fifth century.Footnote ³⁴¹ Control of the harbours was possibly lost after the King’s Peace of 386, rendering each independent, explaining the relative lack of attestations for friendly ties between the Thespians and Athenians during that period.Footnote ³⁴² With the rise of Theban power after 371 and the integration of large swaths of Boiotia into their chora, we may assume, as John Buckler does, that these harbours became part of the Theban territory.Footnote ³⁴³ As will be argued below, the Thebans realised the importance of these harbours for the defence of Boiotia from the later fifth century onward. During their hegemonial heyday the Boiotians secured these coastal towns from foreign invasion via extensive fortifications. These works mitigated one of the koinon’s defensive weaknesses.

Siphai and Kreusis

Siphai (modern-day Aliki) and Kreusis, located near the modern town of Livadostro, were nestled into natural harbours that offered space for smaller fleets to lay anchor for the night. Siphai, in particular, commands a protected bay along the north shore of the Corinthian Gulf.

Both harbours were harder to reach for larger armies and therefore the perfect base for landing troops to establish footholds in Boiotia without the threat of a fierce defensive effort. One example is the Athenian attacks in 424: Siphai and Kreusis were supposed to be betrayed to the general Demosthenes.Footnote ³⁴⁴ Although the plan ultimately failed, the intended creation of two enclaves on the Corinthian Gulf, combined with the planned takeover of Chaironeia, would have granted the Athenians full control over the Corinthian Gulf promontory in Boiotia and an easily defendable foothold from which to hollow out the unity of the koinon.

In addition, Kreusis was the most important harbour on the coast and arguably Thespiai’s corridor to the wider Mediterranean Sea.Footnote ³⁴⁵ This commercial function would have enhanced the appeal of controlling the harbour and, with it, the imports into Boiotia from the commercial networks stretching across the Corinthian Gulf and beyond. The precarity of the harbour’s defences and its economic prominence were probably the main factors for the construction of the city’s defences that can be seen to this day and which were constructed during the heyday of Theban hegemony or shortly thereafter.Footnote ³⁴⁶

On the basis of its remains, Siphai received the most extensive fortifications out of all the coastal towns on the Corinthian Gulf (see Figure 4.11). The fortifications dominated the town’s Akropolis, with its curtain walls cascading down into the sea to protect the harbour.Footnote ³⁴⁷ Apparently, the strategic outweighed the economic in this case. Considering the recent experiences of the Boiotians – with the Spartans using Siphai as the entrance point into Boiotia in 371 – that comes as less of a surprise.Footnote ³⁴⁸

Figure 4.11

Siphai fortifications.

(Source: Author)

4.2.2 The Euboian Gulf

The best harbours were found on Boiotia’s eastern seaboard. The finest natural harbour in the Euboian Gulf was Aulis, where Agamemnon once launched a thousand ships against Troy.Footnote ³⁷³ Other harbours included Anthedon, further north, and Oropos and Delion to the south.Footnote ³⁷⁴ These harbours provided safe havens along the strait’s treacherous waters and temperamental winds.Footnote ³⁷⁵ These harbours were useful commercial bases for ships navigating this important channel. Militarily, they appear of subsidiary importance for a long time from the Boiotian perspective. These harbours were mostly exploited by foreign powers, until the decision to create a substantial fleet in the 360s. In contrast to the harbours on the Corinthian Gulf promontory, harbours like Delion, Anthedon, Oropos and Aulis did not receive substantial fortifications, despite repeated Athenian attacks in the fifth century. The inhabitants of Aulis and other coastal towns were synoikised with the Thebans in the early phases of the Peloponnesian War, but no other measures were taken. Perhaps the collaboration with the Euboians from 411 onwards safeguarded these harbours. A similar situation may have existed after the Battle of Leuktra in 371 (Chapter 2.5). Maybe the fortifications did not survive for posterity. Or another reason for the lack of fortifications on this promontory is that, unlike their counterparts in western Boiotia, these harbours were never fully integrated into the Theban chora, with the exception of Aulis.