Tyranny Is An Ever-Present Threat To Civilisations. Here’s How Classical Greece And China Dealt With It

Mencius was a Chinese philosopher and disciple of Confucius. Pictures from History/Getty Images

BY SHANNON BRINCAT

SENIOR LECTURER IN POLITICS

AND INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS,

UNIVERSITY OF THE SUNSHINE COAST

We’re just a few months into US president Donald Trump’s second term but his rule has already been repeatedly compared to tyranny.

This may all feel very new to Americans, and to the rest of us watching on from around the world. But the threat of tyranny is an ancient one.

We can learn much from how people in ancient Greece and China dealt with this issue.
Where does tyranny come from?

The peoples of classical Greece were separated into city-states known as the polis.

A few of these, such as Athens and Argos, were democratic.

Others, such as Rhodes or Chios, had had democratic features such as civic participation in public life.

These city-states routinely faced external enemies but also the threat of tyrannical take-over from within.

Things came to a head in 510 BCE under the rule of an oppressive tyrant known as Hippias. He was ultimately expelled, leading eventually to the establishment of democracy through reforms made under an Athenian statesmen called Cleisthenes.

According to Plato, tyranny is the most degenerate political regime and emerges out of democracy’s excesses.

He argued that as democratic citizens become accustomed to living by pleasure rather than reason or duty to the public good, society becomes fragmented.

Demagogues – populist leaders who gain power by appealing to base desires and prejudices of the masses – promise the people more liberties. They turn citizens away from virtue and toward tyranny.

Aristotle, who was Plato’s student, defines tyranny as the corrupted form of monarchy. The tyrant perverts the constitutional order to bring about self-serving rulership – the rule of one. Tyranny, he argued, destroys law and justice, eroding all public trust.

The approach of Plato and Aristotle to combating tyranny was closely tied to their conception of the polis and the importance of citizenship.

For the classical Greeks, citizenship was a binding relationship of reciprocal duties and obligations owed to all other citizens. The law, they believed, was king.

It was these conventions that constrained political power, especially the arbitrary rule of one.

Civic education by participation in daily democratic life promoted virtue, they believed. All citizens and the ruler were subservient to the law – a bond that tyranny destroyed.

Aristotle said a strong middle class that could best prevent tyranny because they indicated a less unequal, and therefore more stable, society.

Plato’s view was more inward looking. He saw tyranny as a political manifestation of a disordered “enslaved soul” governed by appetites rather than reason. For him, philosophical guidance back to harmony was required for the tyrant and for the people.

Only through wisdom, he argued, could the people recognise and reject demagogues and populists.
Protecting democracy from tyranny

Some city-states learned from their institutional failings when tyranny had taken them over.

For example, after a coup of aristocrats overtook Athenian democracy in 411 BCE, Athenians began to swear the Oath of Demophantos. This was among the first attempts at a constitutional safeguard of democracy against tyranny.

It legally and morally obliged citizens to resist any attempt to overthrow democracy by force. The undertaking was a reciprocal duty; as other scholars have argued, each citizen could count on the support of all others to protect the democracy when a tyrant tried again.

This made it far more likely for people to take action against a would-be-tyrant; they knew every other citizen had sworn an oath to have their back.

The Greek historians of the time support these views. For example, Herodotus in the 5th century documented the rise of several tyrants across Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey). He blamed the political vacuum created by the decline of aristocratic rule. Here, the personal ambition and luxury of elites laid the path to tyrannical behaviour.

Another famous historian named Thucydides, writing at the same time, analysed the power and political corruption behind tyranny. He observed how times of crisis exposed vulnerabilities within Athens, leading to factionalism, instability, and the erosion of democracy.
Tyranny in classical China

In classical China we see a complementary, yet unique view of tyranny.

During the Warring States period (475–221 BCE), when the Zhou Dynasty was divided amongst several competing states, preventing tyranny was a central concern.

These states were mostly hereditary monarchies rather than democracies but they still emphasised accountability to the people.

Mencius, a 4th-century BCE Chinese philosopher and Confucian scholar, argued the people’s welfare was the foundation of legitimate rule.

There is, he argued, a responsibility to all under the Mandate of Heaven (天命, tiānmìng). This ancient Chinese doctrine asserted that heaven grants legitimacy to just rulers. If a ruler became despotic or failed to uphold harmony and virtue, the mandate can be withdrawn, justifying rebellion and dynastic change.

Mencius famously said a ruler who oppresses the people is not a ruler but a “mere man” who could be violently overthrown.

Xunzi, another Confucian philosopher writing in the late 4th to 3rd Centuries BCE, believed humans were inherently selfish and chaotic.

To fend off tyranny he emphasised ritual, education, and rule of law. He believed in formal ceremonies and structured practices such as court etiquette, family rites, and daily ethical conduct. These, he believed, helped cultivate virtue, regulate behaviour, and maintain social harmony.

Mozi, writing mostly in the 5th to early 4th centuries BCE, was a Chinese philosopher who opposed Confucianism and founded Mohism, offered a different view.

Opposing all hierarchies, he emphasised jiān ài(兼爱) – universal obligation or care to all others – as a core ethical and political principle.

According to Mozi, tyranny arises when rulers act selfishly – favoring their own families, states, or interests over the common good. He advocated for strong moral conduct and competence of leaders, rather than their lineage, wealth or status.
Tyranny today

Viewed together, these traditions suggest preventing tyranny requires more than just moral leadership.

Rather, it requires a notion of reciprocity – of shared obligations between citizens – and systemic safeguards against the personal ambitions of rulers.

Ethical governance, civic education, legal frameworks, and shared responsibilities are essential.

‘The Immortal Gods Alone Have Neither Age Nor Death’: Wisdom From Greek Tragedies For Joe Biden

The aged and blind Oedipus at Colonus, in an 1800 drawing by Bertel Thorvaldsen, says, ‘The immortal Gods alone have neither age nor death! All other things almighty Time disquiets.’ Sepia Times/Universal Images Group via Getty Images

BY RACHEL HAAS

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH,

RUTGERS UNIVERSITY-NEWARK

President Joe Biden’s current fraught situation, showcasing both his weakness and his determination, is dramatic because it touches upon more than the political moment and more than one man’s character.

After his disastrous debate performance sparked calls for him to step aside as the Democratic presidential candidate, Biden’s position is not only inextricably entangled with issues of temperament and family dynamics. There’s also the challenge of making a crucial decision swiftly, at a moment when no decision is easy or clearly right.

And that’s not all. Biden has come to symbolize both the biological challenges and the existential poignancy of aging – of aging in power, certainly, but also just the unrelenting wear and tear of growing old.

The pressure of all these factors makes Biden a tragic figure.

Others reluctant to step down

To see this clamorous moment in the light of the past doesn’t make living in the present easier, but it does widen the perspective. Biden is far from the first person in a position of power who has been reluctant to step down – even when common sense or sheer weariness might dictate otherwise. In recent history, Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg is often cited as an unfortunate example, and there are many other figures historians can cite.

Literature has always been concerned not only with people in power but also with the life cycle and the complexities of family relationships. Myths stay fresh and timeless; as we age, our understanding of a myth may change.

As the poet Eavan Boland writes in “The Pomegranate:”

“And the best thing about the legend is
I can enter it anywhere. And have.”

The immense cohort of aging baby boomers, of whom I am one, is likely to sympathize with Biden because he has come to symbolize the vulnerability of aging – vulnerability to humiliation and, more subtly, to isolation.

Age ‘is not protection against suffering’

Greek poets like Homer and Sophocles present old age realistically.

In Homer’s “Iliad,” the elderly Nestor endlessly reminisces. Although listened to respectfully, he is a figure from an earlier generation whose role in war has dwindled to that of counselor.

Priam, the old king of Troy, heartbroken after the death of his son Hector, still finds the energy to berate his surviving sons as they clumsily hitch the mules that will draw the cart loaded with ransom so Priam can redeem his dead son’s body from the warrior who killed him, Achilles.

The subsequent moment of recognition between Priam and Achilles is one of the most poignant in literature, not least because the sight of old Priam reminds Achilles of his own aged father. Achilles might be expected to be enraged, but seeing Priam turns his anger to grief. Achilles knows he won’t see his father, Peleus, again. Being old is no protection against suffering; the aged Priam, mourning his son Hector, is assailed by the same desolate grief as Achilles.

In Shakespeare’s “Henry IV,” the once jovial and resilient Falstaff, publicly rejected and insulted by Prince Hal, is old, vulnerable – and alone. Macbeth, widowed and isolated, seems to have aged decades in the course of the play; he thinks forlornly of the comforts old age might be expected to provide: “honor, love, obedience, troops of friends.”

King Lear opens the tragedy named for him by ostensibly retiring. He announces his “intent/To shake all cares and business from our age,/Committing them to younger strengths, while we/Unburdened crawl toward death.”

But Lear refuses to cede control. Finally, as he sinks into confusion, he discovers humility and compassion – too late. Lear is reunited in prison with his loyal daughter Cordelia, who hasn’t been afraid to speak truth to power but who also has never ceased to love him – but she is summarily executed, and Lear, heartbroken, dies.

Decision requires ‘rare detachment’

Political commentator Bill Maher has called ageism the last respectable prejudice. It’s as if age and its accompanying disabilities create a force field keeping others at a distance. Or perhaps age bestows a universally recognized vulnerability on people who seemed powerful.

Either way, old people can seem somehow separated from the rest of us.

It’s hard even to imagine President Biden alone; on the contrary, he is apparently surrounded by loyal family and advisers. But the vulnerability of old age was on full display in the first presidential debate. News reports convey how hard it has become for anyone outside Biden’s tight circle to really see or know him.

One of the countless contrasts between Biden and Donald Trump is Biden’s almost sphinxlike unknowability, especially now. With Trump, as has frequently been noted, what you see is what you get. For better or for worse, his qualities are consistently on full display.

Age has been traditionally associated with wisdom, yet the wisdom old age can bestow seems out of reach for a figure still in the thick of politics. Lear’s “all-licensed” Fool rebukes the king: “Thou shouldst not have been old till thou had been wise.”

Only withdrawing from the fray might bestow some tranquility. But the vision to make the difficult decision to withdraw requires a kind of detachment that seems to be very rare in history, and not common in literature either.

Almighty time disquiets’

Greek tragedy does offer an eloquent example of just such wisdom.

Sophocles’s “Oedipus at Colonus” is a play about an old man written by an old man – Sophocles was in his 90s when the drama was presented.

The aged, self-blinded and self-exiled former king Oedipus, guided by his loyal daughter, finds himself in Colonus, a holy district outside Athens. When Theseus, the ruler of Athens, arrives on the scene, Oedipus’s words to him transcend both the immediate situation and Oedipus’s dire backstory.

“The immortal

Gods alone have neither age nor death!
All other things almighty Time disquiets.
Earth wastes away; the body wastes away;
Faith dies, distrust is born.
And imperceptibly the spirit changes
Between a man and his friend, or between two cities ….
… but time goes on,
Unmeasured Time, fathering numberless
Nights, unnumbered days ….”

By touching upon the shared human condition of mortality, as well as another universal, the inevitability of change, this speech bestows a stark tranquility on the situation.

Oedipus knows that he has come to Colonus to die, and his words convey a vision that seems to issue from beyond the grave. His detachment has an authority that now seems almost out of the reach of any of us, let alone a politician. But it’s good to remember that such qualities exist.

Of course this is a different moment. The looming juggernaut that Trump represents makes it hard for Biden’s supporters, or any Democrats, to be calm. Nevertheless, it’s useful to think about the potential strengths, as well as the vulnerabilities, of age.

The widespread anxiety now rampant among Biden’s supporters is sometimes mocked as unjustified panic. Time, as Oedipus might remind us, will tell. I personally find this anxiety touching and heartening for its humanity; there’s widespread compassion for Biden’s vulnerability.

In the ugly spectacle of American politics, it’s hard to keep humanity in sight. Literature can remind us of what we already know about growing old, about change, and about mortality.

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Los Angeles: St. Sophia Greek Orthodox Cathedral

Inside St Sophia's Orthodox Church in L.A.'s Greek Neighborhood

Little is known of the few Greek immigrants who came to Los Angeles prior to the 1890s. The majority were single males, working on the railroads, in mines and doing other labor-intensive work. Most remained bachelors, married non-Greeks or returned to Greece.

Many of the first Greeks became railroad workers on the transcontinental railroad that united the East to the West. Others were hired as miners and suffered many hardships while working the mines of Colorado and Utah before coming to Los Angeles. Greek seamen and fishermen with limited English were hired to work in the port and at other labor-intensive jobs that employed immigrants. The Los Angeles Gas and Electric Company was the first major industry to hire immigrant Greeks to dig ditches and lay lines across the Los Angeles area. The Alexandria Hotel became an early foothold for entry-level jobs where one could learn to bus tables, polish silver or wash dishes. As the young Greeks learned English, many went on to become waiters in such distinctive spots as the Brown Derby, the Ambassador Hotel, and the famous Coconut Grove nightclub. Some took these skills and opened their own restaurants and cafes.

Another group of early Greeks worked independently as bootblacks or trade peddlers of vegetables, fruits, candies, nuts and flowers. Many sold their fruits and vegetables near Alameda Street and were called the "Greek Fleet" by the locals. Twelve-hour days, seven days a week were the norm, as they gathered small nest eggs that allowed them to expand from vegetable carts to small grocery stores. In addition, smaller pastry and flower shops multiplied. Some Greeks moved from the urban area and started farms and citrus groves in Palomar, Huntington Park, San Gabriel, and San Fernando.

Like other immigrant groups, the "padrone" system came into being when a number of early pioneers sponsored some of their fellow patriots to come to Los Angeles and later work off the cost of their transportation. It was limited to a few in the agricultural, flower and farming trades. Although only small numbers of Greeks came to Los Angeles prior to 1900, by the beginning of the First World War, it is estimated that nearly 1000 Greeks, of whom 95 percent were male, made Los Angeles their home.

By the late 1890s, there was a small cluster of Greeks living in the Boyle Heights area, along with other immigrant groups including Russians, Syrians, Armenians, and East European Jews. The first known Greek owned grocery store in the area opened in 1896. Within a few years, several hundred Greeks settled in the area.

The influx of heavy Greek immigration and settlement in Los Angeles roughly corresponds to a chaotic time in Greek history. At the turn of the century Greece was involved in two Balkan wars, an economic crisis and the First World War. This period of domestic turmoil and international warfare created severe economic hardships in Greece. In addition, the Ottoman Empire no longer exempted Greeks from military service during the Balkan Wars, which resulted in an increased number of Greeks emigrating from areas of "unredeemed Greece" in the Ottoman territories.

The period of greatest immigration to America took place between the years 1900 to 1930 when over 350,000 Greeks arrived. Over 30,000 settled in New York and Chicago. The more adventurous Greeks continued by railroad to the West. By 1930, California Census data listed 10,457 "Greek people" in the state. Of these, some 6,488 resided in Los Angeles County. Church membership, however, listed no more than 1500 during the same time period.

As the threat of war in Greece loomed, many Greek immigrants were eager to help their beloved homeland. Before the United States entered the First World War and it appeared that Greece was in need, 140 Greeks in Los Angeles, formed the "Greek American Military Company of Volunteers," bought their own uniforms and began to train. Their goal was to prepare to return to Greece if war was declared in the Balkans. This regiment trained for two hours a day after work in Elysian Park. On the weekends additional training was held. On October 26, 1912, their diligence and preparedness was recognized when they marched in the local Preparedness Parade, on Fourth and Los Angeles Streets, and were awarded the grand prize.

Some of these men returned to Greece and fought bravely in the Balkan Wars. When the United States entered World War I, over 60,000 Greek males, representing 25 percent of all Greeks in America, enlisted in the U.S. Army. That was the record for all immigrant groups. Those men were told that serving in the U.S. Army would exempt them from their Greek military obligation as well as gaining them American citizenship. After the war, a few returned to Greece only to discover that the exemption held only for men naturalized before January 15, 1914. For the vast majority, however, their much-coveted American citizenship was granted.
Source: Saint Sophia Greek Orthodox Cathedral