We are delighted to announce a new project to develop and co-ordinate research on the Greek and Roman epigraphy of Libya. The collaborative undertaking involves scholars at King’s College London (Centre for Hellenic Studies and Department of Digital Humanities), the Universities of Bologna and Macerata, and the University of Paris IV–Sorbonne (Centre de recherche sur la Libye Antique).

We propose to develop a publication portal for several digital corpora of inscriptions from Libya. The Inscriptions of Roman Tripolitania (IRT) were republished in 2009; the first volume of Inscriptions of Roman Cyrenaica (IRCyr) is scheduled for publication in 2011; the Greek Inscriptions of Cyrenaica are under preparation (IGCyr). All these corpora are prepared in EpiDoc. The portal will offer access to all these publications; it will provide a common bibliography, a shared search facility, shared indices, and draw on a shared geographic database. It is our hope that other scholars publishing material from Libya will make use of this opportunity to present their material.

Multiple language versions of this announcement can be found at Sito Italiano di Epigrafia Greca.

Eck’s thesis is that we can discern an essential difference in epigraphic habit across the Roman empire: normative documents of public import (i.e., publicae constitutiones) were customarily inscribed on bronze in Latin-speaking areas, whereas stone was the preferred material in Greek-speaking provinces. Bronze was clearly used everywhere, for a variety of epigraphic purposes, but with regard to public legal documents divergeant practice is argued. Eck posits that these opposing patterns were set long before the empire came into existence and were so strongly established that even centuries of Roman rule caused little erosion of the Greek pattern.

The paper begins with a helpful consideration of the range of inscribed materials and documentary types reflected in the historical record and the low survival rates for same. This theme carries on throughout the paper, and appropriate examples are marshaled to support the thesis. Some highlights: Inscriptions on wood may have constituted 90% of the inscribed documents (most intended as ephemera and now almost entirely lost). Less than one percent of military diplomata (on bronze) survive. These are found in both Latin- and Greek-speaking areas, and many have clearly appeared through at the hands of metal detectorists. As the mode of discovery is similar for many celebrated Western bronze leges, we would expect the same pattern in the east, but don’t see it. Bronze likely suffers loss disproportionately (it could be melted down for reuse, and generally was); therefore, we must imagine a disproportionate loss of normative, public texts from the West. The few Roman-period examples of normative public documents on bronze in the East are explained either as having been so specified in the originating document itself (there is evidence for such provision), or the product of Roman (pro-)magistrates doing things the way they were accustomed to do them.

Afterward, some audience members challenged Eck’s characterization of the Greek-speaking east as a place where some public documents were traditionally inscribed on wood and stone, citing examples from Argos, Athens and elsewhere during the Archaic and Classical periods. Eck maintained his thesis, seeking distinctions between the examples offered and the types of texts he feels were distinctively “on bronze” in the West, but expressed interest in getting more details that might affect his approach.

Formality and informality in Attic epigraphy

Graham Oliver

In the first paper of the day, Graham Oliver applied the theme of the colloquium (formality and informality in epigraphy) to a selection of inscribed materials ranging from the Archaic to the Imperial period. Noting that the method of categorising inscriptions in traditional corpora tends to prevent us from fully examining the potentially complex nature of those inscriptions, Oliver introduced three topics through which we might begin to interpret the subject of formal and informal epigraphy: authority, institutions and location; the formalities of formal and informal epigraphy; and genre.

Addressing the first of these issues, Oliver described the ways in which inscribed texts constitute a direct (or indirect) reflection of the actions or decisions of specific institutions. If we can define formal epigraphy in this manner, then informal epigraphy must necessarily be defined as the expression or reflection of non-institutions. We therefore need to identify the formal elements of institutional epigraphy. Illustrating the point with the example of IG II² 2946, the bilingual Phoenician/Greek koinon of the Sidonians, Oliver noted that whilst there are specific features within the text that might be considered formal, the formality of a text is not limited to its content, but also includes the location in which it is set up, and the form of the monument itself. The very act of inscribing formalises the decision of an institution; yet in fact we know relatively little about the actual process by which inscriptions were allowed to be set up.

We also need to consider the question of whether formal epigraphy must look formal. Oliver demonstrated that some forms of epigraphy might at first be considered informal, but should in fact be classified as formal. Examples include amphora stamps, weights and measures, and even dipinti found on public objects: their formality derives from the fact that they represent the operation of institutions. The appearance of a text, then, does not necessarily bear any relation to its inherent formality or informality. Taking the example of boundary inscriptions, Oliver showed that a text can still be formal even when its lettering bears a close resemblance to calligraphic writing, because it represents the output of an institution. We do not necessarily know whether the institutions represented by texts had authority to set up inscriptions where they did: did the pyloroi, for instance, have the authority to inscribe on the Acropolis? Texts such as IG II² 2292 and 2304, the latter of which re-used an older, previously inscribed surface, force us to question our notions of authority: Oliver noted that despite the fact that it constitutes a clear reflection of an institution, if the list of names in IG II² 2304 had been inscribed on a ceramic surface we might have been tempted not to consider it as a formal text.

If we include dipinti under the umbrella of epigraphy, Panathenaic vases can illustrate the way in which texts that might be considered informal are in fact undoubtedly reflections of state institutions: the vases were given as prizes in the state festival, and the formula (‘(one of) the prizes from Athens’ or ‘I am (one of) the prizes from Athens’) is standardised across the body of vases. Oliver was inclined, however, to the general view that the majority of dipinti and graffiti should be considered informal epigraphy.

Oliver then examined the issue of the introduction of stoichedon (the layout of the text in a grid formation aligned both vertically and horizontally) and its relationship to the development of inscriptions on stone. Stoichedon, which became established in the later sixth and fifth centuries, was a particular feature of epigraphy on stone, and was a common element of formal state documents in fifth century Athens. It was almost never used in dipinti or graffiti, except as a possibly self-conscious imitation of state documents. Oliver warned that despite the limited use of stoichedon, we should not fall into the trap of considering certain epigraphic texts as informal simply because they bear similarities to calligraphic writing.

In the final part of his paper, Oliver employed elements of linguistic and literary criticism to address the question of formality and informality in epigraphy. Following Cobley (Cobley, P., “Objectivity and immanence in genre theory”, in G. Dowd, L. Stevenson and J. Strong (eds), Genre Matters. Essays in Theory and Criticism (Bristol, 2006), 41-54) and others in defining genre as a set of expectations rather than a specific set of features, Oliver put forward the point that we can still define a text as a decree even if lacks certain elements, because the genre ‘decree’ is not fixed absolutely but can be transformed. For Todorov (Todorov, T., “The Origin of Genres”, in D. Duff (ed.), Modern Genre Theory (Harlow, 2000), 193-209), genre is seen as a codification of discursive properties, which Oliver noted might be useful for analysing formality and informality in inscribed texts: these ‘discursive properties’ include the semantic aspects of the text, such as relationships within the text; relationships between persons who read the text; and meanings of symbols that occur in the text or on the monument. Analysing genre in epigraphy exposes the institutions that lie behind the texts, but cannot cover all areas of society, as not all parts of society are institutionalised. Oliver suggested that genre theory might provide one way in which we can define formal epigraphy (the transformation of a ‘speech act’ into genre) and informal epigraphy (the non-transformation of a ‘speech act’ into genre).

Oliver’s paper presented an interesting and thought-provoking argument that we need to identify and consider more carefully the authority behind an inscription, as well as examining the space, location and monument on which the text is inscribed. We might also utilise approaches originating in other disciplines that could prove useful to epigraphers in interpreting aspects of formality and informality. If we are to understand formality and informality in epigraphy, we must define the institutions (or indeed the lack of institutions) behind their creation.

Graffiti or Inscriptions? The Epigraphic Habit in Attica
Claire Taylor

Dr Taylor’s talk focussed on the problems that arise through the categorisation of some inscriptions as Graffiti. She suggested that by making such a stark categorisation, some ‘marks’ have not received the attention that that might deserve, and that, therefore, their full potential as not been realised. These categories also encourage us to view the texts in a certain way. In the modern world, graffiti is often considered part of an illicit subculture, with a common critical response. By referring to these marks and texts as graffiti, we are therefore imposing the judgement that they too are illicit, as well as unconsciously (or consciously?) comparing them less favourably with other epigraphic forms. This is further complicated by the variety of texts and marks that are called graffiti: Individual Letters, Names, Trademarks, Commercial notations, Dedications, Sexual references and pictures. Dr Taylor argued that each mark must be considered in terms of the context in which it appeared eg. A commercial notation on is an important communication for both the buyer and the seller. That it was added to the pot later on, and by a different hand, shouldn’t become more important than the trade information that it relates. Equally, the sexual graffiti found in Pompeii is entirely appropriate for the place in which it was found – a brothel. So, while there is very little that connects the Greek pot’s commercial notation and Pompeii’s sexual graffiti, they are both found in the same category of Graffiti.

Dr Taylor suggested that a micro approach to these marks would be more appropriate; one that considered in detail the geographical, spatial, temporal and cultural context of each mark. This context could then also be considered in terms of the wider epigraphic habit. A collection of marks from in Attica, which largely date to the Classical period, were chosen to illustrate this micro approach. The marks, carved into the bedrock of Attica, vary greatly, from boundary stones and single words or names, to pictures of Hoplites, phalloi and footprints. These marks appear in two precise sites: Thorokos, and the Hymetos foothills. Both are in the remote countryside, and both show epigraphic evidence different from many other Attic sites. Dr Taylor suggested that these marks were made to represent a link between the inscriber and their location. The footprints and phalloi could, therefore, be seen as physical representations of those who made the marks – a memorial of a particular person in that particular space, at a particular time and within a certain community. The same can be said for the καλός names that frequently appear, with their representation of an emotional link between people.

These marks appear in small clusters, and have clearly been made at different times; one cluster showed a καλός name, with a footprint placed over it later on. Dr Taylor suggested that this temporal layering might show the different generations of visitors to the place, who have added their own names, thereby situating themselves within the group, and within the community as a whole.

Such ‘community’ based clusters are not uncommon in the Greek World, but they are more usually found in gymnasia or other centres of urban gathering. That the communities referred to by Dr Taylor are found in a rural context should, she argued, give us some idea as to what kind of people might form them. Dr Taylor believes that there is good case for these marks having been made by quarry workers, and show the communication of a non-elite group with each other in a non-dedicatory capacity. If this were to be true, then the long-held belief that graffiti were made illicitly, by those with little to do, could be overthrown. These marks would represent the voice of a normally silent people, who in fact appear to have communicated regularly with each other, and within a certain set of cultural traditions. They are shown to be at least semi-literate, and to have been motivated by concerns similar to those that are represented in more formal inscriptions. Those were not literate were not held back from communicating with each other either – the pictorial reliefs and consistency of symbols such as the phalloi and footprints reveal a cultural tradition that was not unique to a particular group or time, but that was repeated by successive members of the community.

The graffiti discussed in this talk proved the value of seemingly random markings to both Greek historians and Epigraphers, and for a wider understanding of the epigraphic habit.

Constructing Lives from Stone: Inscriptions and Biographical Traditions
Dr. Polly Low, Manchester

This lively seminar set out to explore whether the development of literary biography in the 4th C can be seen to be reflected in the epigraphic practice of the period. There is a change in style detected in the epigraphic material in the Classical and early Hellenistic periods and, concentrating on mostly Athenian examples, Dr. Low certainly posed some very interesting questions.

In exploring how an epigraphic text may be classed as biographical, Dr. Low looked at honorific decrees which concentrate on the moral qualities of the individual – for example IG i³ 158 (honours for Corinthios) the honorand is simply an ἀνὴρ ἀγαθός, or IG i³ 97 (Eurytion and his father) shows a shift to abstraction in describing them as possessing ἀνδραγαθία. These moral qualities are presented as paradigms of behaviour. The publication formula states the reason for the publication: “so that all other men may know”. This method and intention is seen in literary texts also: Isocrates’ Evagoras describes his individual characteristics (ἐυσεβία, σοφία) in order that he be emulated by the young (Evagoras 73-77). Therefore there is an overlap between the literary and the epigraphic with regard to individual character but this is not the same thing as biography. Dr. Low stated that it is the interaction between the abstract and the individual that is biographical and while Greek epigraphy is a good source for character at this stage, it is less so for action.

There is a change in epigraphic practice in the 4th C when the speaker believes that biography and epigraphy converge. Looking briefly at funerary epitaphs, there is certainly more biographical detail than before, and a much higher number produced, but the information has more to do with the deceased’s relationship to his family and polis rather than being about himself. They have little to do with biography and more to do with the polis, as evidenced by the now more frequent inclusion of the demotic in the epitaph. Honorific decrees of this period, on the other hand, show a surge in interest in the recording and celebrating of achievements – it is the actions of the honorand which serve as evidence of good character. 5th and early 4th C decrees refer to abstract and general virtues but give only minimal detail. In the 4th C the motivation clause expands and becomes an extended narrative. Dr. Low looked at IG ii² 448 (honours for Euphron of Sicyon) which includes two decrees, in the first of which (323/2) Euphron is an ἀνὴρ ἀγαθός and is praised for his ἀρέτη. The second (318/7) also praises him as a good man but spells out in great detail how this goodness manifested itself through his actions. The question was asked if this change was epigraphic or political. Was this a change in the level of detail presented in the assembly or simply a change to the inscribed monument? The latter is supported by IG ii² 1191 (Eleusis honours Xenokles) which refers to a law which regulates epigraphic practice but it is possible that this refers only to this specific honour. Much more, then, must have been said in the assembly; the things omitted or included on stone were not accidental and this must imply a change in epigraphic practice.

This move towards verbosity in the motivation clause happens alongside other changes and there must be interaction between these. Going back to IG ii² 448 (Euphron of Sicyon) a shift in chronological focus can be seen. The earlier decree emphasises the present-continuous nature of doing good, while the second decree emphasises his past actions. Earlier decrees show a bi-lateral relationship between Athens and the benefactor and it is an immediate one: the good deed elicits a response and more good deeds follow. Later decrees introduce another party, the reader, but this relationship is subordinate to the bi-lateral one: the good deed is responded to, after some time, by Athens and people other than the honorand find their relationship with Athens changes in the future. IG ii² 682 (honours for Phaidros of Sphettos) opens with the past honours of his ancestors, followed by extensive narrative of his good actions and then bestows honours on him and his descendants: it is less concerned with day-to-day politics and more with longer term past and future influence.

Dr. Low went on then to look at the process of creation. In SEG 28.60 (honours for Kallias) his section of past achievements is much longer than his present services. This was not to imply that his recent actions were less successful, but it was likely that the detailed parts were provided by the honorand himself and the rest was formulaic. Normally it was the friends and family who requested an honour and this was not unusual. They could therefore contribute to, and to a limited extent shape, the content. The publication clause provides the justification for the inscribing of a decree, but decrees with long motivation clauses state that the purpose of the decree is to let everyone know the way in which the city rewards good deeds: IG ii² 223 – “so that all other men may know that the demos and the boule know how to return thanks to those who always do the best things on behalf of the boule and demos…”

Athenian generosity is the key element of these decrees. The accounts of Euphron’s achievements are selective. The destruction of the first decree by the oligarchy is the highlight of the motivation clause of the second, for purely political reasons. This is an Athenocentric document and the polis, not the honorand, is the most important part.

In conclusion, earlier inscriptions can be used as a source of evidence for moral qualities but this does not hold into the Hellenistic period. There is a change in the function of honorific decrees as they become a more extensive political tool. Athens takes control: the lives of the honorands are constructed but by Athens and for her own purposes.

Athenian Decrees Honouring Priests and Priestesses to 20/19BC.
Stephen Lambert, Cardiff University

In this seminar Stephen Lambert presented a series of Inscriptions from the forthcoming IG II³, which are concerned with Athenian decrees honouring Priests and Priestesses from the early Classical period to 20/19BC.

Dr Lambert highlighted that the decrees honouring the Priests and Priestesses were inscribed on stone, thus indicating the worth of the individual, or individuals, being honoured. They are presented as being worthy of praise in the eyes of the citizens, and in the eyes of Athens, and therefore, in the eyes of the gods.

The presentation was divided into three sections, the outlines of which are detailed below:

1. Social Construction of Priests and Priestesses

Dr Lambert asked what similarities the roles of Priest and Priestess shared with other official roles in the state. Both priests and officials performed a religious service in the city, yet the priests and priestesses also had ‘clients’ other than the city. Lambert stressed that it is not always clear from these decrees whether those being honoured are γενος priests, or those who have been democratically elected. He rationalised that this was likely due to Pericles’ Citizen Law, which gave all Athenians equal birth status – it would be somewhat contentious in an honorific decree to emphasise any difference of birth right.

The motivation for the honorific decrees for the priests and priestesses, whatever their social background, appears to be the good performance of sacrifice, and the success of its outcome. Honours are also given – as shown in IG II³ 976 (SEG XVIII 28) – for recurring services such as the ‘all-night revel’, and for specific services, such as supplying sacrificial victims, robes, invitations to the council, and monetary donations.

2. Articulation of Gender

Are priestesses honoured differently from priests? They often execute identical practices as their male counterparts, performing sacrifices, and making donations, all for the wellbeing of Athens. Dr Lambert noted however that there are some differences in the details of these honours, especially regarding the donations. The male relations of the priestesses are frequently referred to – the husbands or sons may have their own report within the honours given to the priestess eg. SEG XXXIII 115, and are honoured themselves for their own contributions or for supporting those made by their wives eg. IG II³ 776.

3. Diachronic Development

Dr Lambert showed that those inscriptions dating to the Classical Period show a greater distinction between the priests and the officials in the city. Priests are praised for their performance of religious function, whereas the Officials are praised for the performance of their duties and councils.

In the Hellenistic period, this distinction becomes more blurred, with both the Priests and Priestesses and the Officials praised for what appears to be a very similar religious function. Lambert stressed that this may be due to an attempt to avoid any contention between the religious and secular groups.

The Hellenistic period can also be categorised as showing greater emphasis on the private contributions made by Priests and Priestesses, perhaps owing to the changed perception of the role – the level of wealth of the period meant that disposal of it was necessary to obtain and hold on to the position.

The only inscription to date to the Augustan period – SEG XXX 93 – highlights a completely different ideological world. Those concerned are shown to be aristocrats, with long ancestral connections. Such a blatant reference to birth right was wholly inappropriate during earlier periods due to its divisive nature. Lambert closed his presentation with the suggestion that not only is this inscription indicative of the change in socio-political behaviour in 1st century BC Athens, but that it also represents the archaising reform of 21 BC in which the original state of Athens was ideologically renewed, with all citizens organised in γένη and all γένη were made up of citizens.

This was another stimulating and thought provoking seminar, in which the epigraphic sources have yet again proven invaluable.

On the Meaning of “Common” in Herodotus 8.144: Shared Sanctuaries and the Gods of Others
Irene Polinskaya, King’s College London

“τὸ Ἑλλενικόν consists in being of the same blood and of the same language, in sharing sanctuaries and sacrifices of the gods, and in the sameness of customs”

While most scholars acknowledge τὸ Ἑλλενικόν as an idealised vision of Greekness, Dr. Polinskaya believes the religious element continues to be misread and challenges the standard interpretation of τὸ Ἑλλενικόν as proof of religious unity across the Greek world. She believes that κοινός and ὅμοιος do not convey the same meaning, and ignoring the distinction is ignoring Herodotus’ choice of words. There is a conceptual and mathematical difference between ‘same’ and ‘common’ and the architectural, textual and epigraphic evidence bears this out: there is no sameness, but there are common sanctuaries and sacrifices.

Exploring then the precise meaning of κοινός, Dr. Polinskaya highlights two possibilities: an abstract, non-specific commonness – a typological similarity, or a commonness in a concrete sense limited to specific Greeks under specific conditions. Citing Thucydides (1.25; 3.57.1) and Isocrates (Panegyricus 43) Dr. Polinskaya believes a pattern emerges of common prayers and sacrifices, at a common altar, at a specific occasion – a festival, or after proclaiming a truce. Epigraphic evidence also shows that κοινός was used only with a specific sanctuary, festival or ritual:

IG II2 4355 (Athens Acropolis) refers to Ἀσσκληπιῶι ἠδὲ ὁμοβώμοις; IG IX 12 2:583 (Elis, Olympia) refers to κοινοῦ γενομένου τοῦ ἱεροῦ τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος τοῦ Ἀκτίου (ll.15-16) and κο[ινὸν] εἶμεν τὸ ἱερὸν πάντων τῶν Ἀκαρνάνων (ll 22-24). Only at Delphi is there a “common sanctuary of the Hellenes” (IG II2 680). Dr. Polinskaya believes Herodotus’ common sacrifices and altars refer only to Panhellenic shrines and settings which brought Greeks together in a joint religious action, but worshipping their own specific gods, and cites among others Pausanias (4.27.6): “when all was in readiness … the Thebans then sacrifices to Dionysus and Apollo Ismenius … the Argives to Argive Hera and Nemean Zeus, the Messenians to Zeus of Ithome and the Dioscuri and their priests to the Great Goddess and Caucon”. There were many different deities among the Greeks, not one common one.

For epigraphic evidence Dr. Polinskaya examines the potsherds found at the Hellenion at Naucratis, to which Herodotus refers at 2.178 as τὸ τέμενος, and asks if, as the name Hellenion was chosen, it was a sacred enclosure where Greeks worshipped as one undifferentiated group in a Panhellenic setting, on a par with Delphi. A table of 27 graffiti was provided, and while there are many examples of Ἑλλήνες and Θεοί (in both genitive and dative plurals) only 2 possibly have the words together on the same potsherd. Herodotus tells us that the Hellenion was limited to the use of the founding 9 members and no others: membership did not extend to all Greeks as a whole and was common only to those involved in its foundation. Therefore the Hellenes of the graffiti is possibly an umbrella term referring to the Hellenes of the Hellenion, indicating ownership of the property of the Hellenes and is not necessarily a dedicatory formula.

The second half of this talk focussed on how the Greeks looked upon religious deities that were not their own, or shared. Dr. Polinskaya restated her belief that ‘common gods’/’same gods’/ ‘Greek gods’/gods of the Greeks’ are not commonly Greek and cites examples such as Herodotus 5.92-93 where Socles calls upon the Greek gods when urging Hippias not to invade, and Hippias in response calls upon the same gods to support him in his takeover. This leads to the question of value and respect of other Greek gods and the speaker believed this to be tied up with ownership. Gods were tied to specific regions and entering the land of other Greek states also meant entering the land of other Greek gods. In Thucydides 2.74 the Spartans apologised to the local gods of Plataea before invading, explained why, and expressed hope for aid from them. These were not Spartan gods and yet they felt entitled to address them as potentially their own gods. The stealing, cooptation and transfer of deities, relics and cult images is also a sign of how Greeks evaluated other cults – they were valuable in the sense that they belonged to another state and were therefore desirable: Herodotus 5.82-86 tells of the Aeginetans theft of statues of goddesses from Epidauros – they are stolen, but when they are on Aegina they are given due respect and ritual worship.

This interesting paper opened up a lively discussion and yet again in this series of talks, the use of inscriptions to discuss topics of historical interest is shown to greatly enhance our interpretations and/or allow for new interpretations of long standing points of view.

‘A Hellenistic List of Donors (?)’
Riet van Bremen

Dr van Bremen’s paper was concerned with a puzzling inscription from Stratonikeia in Karia (SEG 55, 1145). Unlike the seminars of the previous weeks, which have been dealing with specific themes or ‘types’ of inscription, she took what she referred to as the ‘minimalist’ approach; trying to learn as much as possible from one text. The inscription in question does not obviously belong to any particular category, nor have any direct parallels in the ancient world. On its original publication by M. Ç. Şahin in 2005 (EA 38, pp. 9-12) it was classified as a ‘Hellenistic list of donors’; yet, as he admits, ‘I do not understand the inscription either, because there is no intelligible sentence in it, although there are no vocabulary problems involved, and the inscription is easy to read.’ Van Bremen was hoping to comprehend something about the nature of the decree through close examination of the text, yet also its possible archaeological context; she was hoping to reveal the value of analysing in depth certain unusual texts.

The Text
The text is inscribed on the left front side of an architectural block in two columns. It follows a standardised pattern; thus to take the example of lines 3-4: [τοῖς ἔ]χουσι τὰ Ἱεροκλείους τοῦ Ἑρμοφάν/[του] Ῥο(δίου) δεδωκότος < ξ’ ἡμέρα καὶ νύξ. The first thirty six lines of the text follow this example, ‘those who have the things/property/possessions of (name) who has given (amount) drachmae, day and night.’ From line 9, the amounts recorded change, and we find groupings of names; however, the total amounts consistently add up to around 60 drachmae, before we again find the phrase ἡμέρα καὶ νύξ. The final grouping differs slightly: those who have the things of Diodoros son of Muonidos, of Rhodes, who has given ten drachmae καὶ τὸ εἰς τὸ τέμενος τῆς Δήμητρος (ll.44-46). It seems that the list was awarding someone the right to do something, or have access to something ‘day and night’; the 60 drachmae figure also seems significant, and the groupings of names perhaps act as a syndicate, who are collectively awarded the right. However, the anonymity of the τοῖς in the inscription suggests that those who were entitled did not necessarily remain constant.

After line 46 there is then a space, before we find a reference to ‘those outside the gates’, and then three months, followed by numbers. Van Bremen suggests that this part of the text is a calendar cycle, and refers to the right conferred by the above list to do or have access to something on certain dates. She draws a parallel with a text from Tegea in Arkadia, which concerns the rights of pasturage in the temple of Athena Alea in the late fifth or early 4th century BC (IG V, 2 3); it is stipulated that ‘a foreigner passing through has the right to pasturage for one draft animal during one day and one night.’ She thus proposes that the list could be ensuring rights of pasturage or access to something, perhaps water.

The Stone
The two columns of text are inscribed on a marble block that was found to the south of Stratonikeia, during the construction of the new road between Yatağan and Milas. Its dimensions are rather unusual: length: 2.67m; height: 0.90m; depth: 0.60m. The right hand side of the block is uninscribed, and roughly worked, and Şahin suggests that this may have been where a corner block was attached. This leads to questions of where the block came from; Şahin proposes that it belonged to the temple of Demeter, yet van Bremen points out that the proportions make this unlikely. Rather, she draws attention to the potential compatibility of the block with the structure that is also located in the south of the city, called the ‘nymphaeum,’ where the remaining balustrade blocks measure between 2-4 m in length; this would perhaps add weight to her suggestion that the inscription is related to water rights.

Date
Şahin dated the text to the period of Rhodian domination in Stratonikeia (188 – 167 BC), both because of the number of Rhodians listed in the text, and because the letter forms fit such a dating. However, based on her analysis of the letter forms, van Bremen challenged such a date; looking at the broken bar alpha, the full size omega, and the right hasta on the nu reaching down to the line, she preferred a date in the second half of the second century BC. She also notes that the Rhodian calendar month in IIC has been adapted, which might further suggest the period after Rhodian domination.

Interpretation
Van Bremen proposes that the interpretation of the text would depend on the architectural context; thus if her suggestion that the block came from the wall of the ‘nymphaeum’ is correct, it seems that the text relates to water rights. The use of water was carefully circumscribed in a number of cities in the ancient world, and often there were restrictions on access. The text in question could thus give ‘those who have something’ the right to use the water supply. The role of the individuals who initially seem to have donated money is not clear; van Bremen tentatively suggests that they may have been involved in the initial funding of the monument, which may have dated to the period of Rhodian domination, or just after (hence the large number of Rhodians listed). How their privilege was then conferred is not known, and indeed exactly what this privilege was remains unclear; we also do not know why people living in the city would have limited access to water. While many questions still remain over any exact interpretation of the text, van Bremen’s paper demonstrates how a close analysis of the text and its potential architectural context can offer many interesting lines of thought for a historian, making such a puzzling inscription somewhat less of a mystery.

The letter: a diplomatic history

Robin Osborne

Osborne began his paper by explaining that his main focus would be upon examining structural points in the genre of the letter. A letter is a composition of a very strong generic type: whatever the context of the letter, its writer is bound by conventions that lead to what is written being framed in a particular way, which in turn defines the relationship between the letter-writer and the recipient. Letters must not only be seen in the context of other letters; rather, they must be viewed in the context of other methods of transmitting information. In this way we can examine how convention influenced content.

Making use of some of the earliest epigraphic examples of letters, including the Berezan lead letter (L. Dubois, Inscriptions Greques Dialectales d’Olbia du Pont (1996), no. 23, 550-500 B.C.), Osborne discussed their characteristics. These included the identification of the addressee; a presupposition of prior knowledge on the part of the addressee as to the information being conveyed; and the inclusion of two or more apparently unconnected messages. This placed the receiver of the letter into an intimate contact with the letter-writer: a letter conveyed information directly from one individual to another, in a private manner. However a letter was also susceptible to interception, and private comments could ultimately be transmitted to a wider public.

The earliest example of a political letter that surivives is a communication from Darius to Gadates (R. Meiggs and D. Lewis, A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions to the End of the Fifth Century B.C. (Oxford, 1988), 12, which is illustrative of the fact that the use of letters in this period is not associated with the Greek city, but with the Persian Empire. Greek cities in the Archaic and Classical periods communicated using messengers rather than documents. They sent representatives, whereas in the world of Persian kings letters were seen as a more appropriate mode: there was no need for an intermediary. The recipient saw exactly what the sender wanted him to see, and thus the recipient entered into a relationship with the sender, rather than with a messenger. The letter from Darius to Gadates is almost conversational in tone: it begins with a criticism (“I learn that you do not in all respects obey my orders,”) and then commends some aspects of the behaviour of the recipient (“…I praise your application, and because of this great gratitude will be laid up for you.”).

The interception of letters as a tactic for obstructing insurgency is demonstrated in a letter from Aeneas Tacitus, How to survive a seige 10.5-6, 8-10, 13, 14 (tr. Whitehead): “Both outgoing and incoming letters must be submitted to a board of inspectors before delivery.” A passage from Thucydides (7.8, tr. Crawley) demonstrates that despite the fear of interception, Nicias was more worried by the thought that his messengers “…either through inability to speak, or through failure of memory, or from a wish to please the multitude, might not report the truth, and so thought it best to write a letter to ensure that the Athenians should know his own opinion…” By sending a letter, the writer could control the way in which the message was received by the recipient, and could convey his own words in a way that would not be guaranteed by the use of a messenger.

Whilst Greek cities did not use the medium of the letter to transmit information, a large number of Hellenistic kings did so. These letters were modelled on both personal letters and city decrees, but were closer in form to personal letters. Such letters were suitable for use by Hellenistic kings because by transmitting the words of the ruler they conveyed royal authority, and his subjects could feel a personal connection with their king, who had personally demonstrated his concern for them. These letters were highly rhetorical, in that they tried to transmit something of the tone of voice of the writer, and their verbosity gave an impression of an unedited text. Moreover, the use of the form of a letter permitted, and indeed encouraged, an explanation of the thinking behind the decisions and judgments of the sender. In contrast, city decrees were highly edited and simply stated the decisions that had been made, with no room in the format for a description of the process by which they had been reached.

From the second century B.C. onwards diplomatic relations were dominated by the letter, an example which is the letter of Flaminius to Khyretiai (197-4) (R. Sherk, Rome and the Greek East to the Death of Augustus: Translated Documents of Greece and Rome, 4.4). It follows the form of the letters of Hellenistic kings in giving explanations for the decisions that were made: “Whatever properties have been lost by you… we give to your city, in order that also in these matters you may learn our nobility of character and because in no way at all have we wished to be avaricious…” This is in clear contrast to texts such as P. J. Rhodes and R. Osborne, Greek Historical Inscriptions 404-323 BC (Oxford, 2003), 101, on the restoration of exiles at Tegea, which is simply a set of instructions: “The exiles who are returning shall recover their paternal possessions…”; “…If a house has a garden adjacent to it, let him not take another…” There is no room in the format for a discussion of principles or reasoning.

Osborne concluded by reasoning that although letters varied in content, the letter form itself encouraged relationships to form between the writer and the receiver, and promoted explanation rather than simple statement of fact. Letters therefore contrasted considerably with city decrees that essentially offered no possibility of correspondence. Roman officials adopted the letter form of Hellenestic kings, even though individual magistrates could not act with the same level of authority: this mismatch in form is comparable to that which occurred when Roman generals were celebrated with Hellenistic-style statues. Subsequently, of course, this type of communication was adopted by Roman emperors. The genre of the letter, then, carries its own diplomatic history. Only when letters are compared with the other formats that were available at the time can we understand the significance of this particular form of communication.