the Controller of the Festival 
Fund (whose office gradually became more and more important) was 
now appointed for four years at a time, while all other offices were 
annual; and that he and his friends, and their regular opponents, were 
generally ready to take the lead in making proposals to the Council or 
the Assembly. But if they chose to remain silent, they could do so;[4] 
no one was bound to make any proposal at all; and, on the other hand, 
any one might do so. With such a want of system, far too much was left 
to chance or to the designs of interested persons. Moreover, the 
Assembly felt itself under no obligation to follow for any length of time 
any lead which might be given to it, or to maintain any continuity or 
consistency between its own decrees. In modern times, a minister, 
brought into power by the will of the majority of the people, can reckon 
for a considerable period upon the more or less loyal support of the 
majority for himself and his official colleagues. In Athens the leader of 
the moment had to be perpetually adapting himself afresh to the mood
of the Assembly, and even to deceive it, in order that he might lead at 
all, or carry out the policy which, in his opinion, his country's need 
required. It is therefore a remarkable thing that both Eubulus and 
Demosthenes succeeded for many years in maintaining a line of action 
as consistent as that taken by practical men can ever be. 
The fact that the Council of Five Hundred, which acted as a standing 
committee of the people, and prepared business for the Assembly and 
was responsible for the details of measures passed by the Assembly in 
general form, was chosen by lot and changed annually, as did 
practically all the civil and the military officials (though the latter 
might be re-elected), was all against efficiency and continuity of 
policy.[5] After the system of election by lot, the most characteristic 
feature of the Athenian democracy was the responsibility of statesmen 
and generals to the law-courts.[6] Any citizen might accuse them upon 
charges nominally limited in scope, but often serving in reality to bring 
their whole career into question. Had it been certain that the courts 
would only punish incompetence or misconduct, and not failure as such, 
little harm would have resulted. But although there were very many 
acquittals in political trials, the uncertainty of the issue was so great, 
and the sentences inflicted upon the condemned so severe (commonly 
involving banishment at least), that the liability to trial as a criminal 
must often have deterred the statesman and the general from taking the 
most necessary risks; while the condemnation of the accused had 
usually the result of driving a really able man out of the country, and 
depriving his fellow countrymen of services which might be urgently 
required when they were no longer available. 
The financial system was also ill adapted for the purposes of a people 
constantly liable to war. The funds required for the bare needs of a time 
of peace seem indeed to have been sufficiently provided from 
permanent sources of income (such as the silver mines, the rent of 
public lands, court fees and fines, and various indirect taxes): but those 
needed for war had to be met by a direct tax upon property, levied ad 
hoc whenever the necessity arose, and not collected without delays and 
difficulties. And although the equipment of ships for service was 
systematically managed under the trierarchic laws,[7] it was still 
subject to delays no less serious. There was no regular system of 
contribution to State funds, and no systematic accumulation of a
reserve to meet military needs. The raising of money by means of loans 
at interest to the State was only adopted in Greece in a few isolated 
instances:[8] and the practice of annually distributing surplus funds to 
the people,[9] however necessary or excusable under the circumstances, 
was wholly contrary to sound finance. 
An even greater evil was the dependence of the city upon mercenary 
forces and generals, whose allegiance was often at the call of the 
highest bidder, and in consequence was seldom reliable. There is no 
demand which Demosthenes makes with greater insistence, than the 
demand that the citizens themselves shall serve with the army. At a 
moment of supreme danger, they might do so. But in fact Athens had 
become more and more an industrial state, and men were not willing to 
leave their business to take care of itself for considerable periods, in 
order to go out and fight, unless the danger was very urgent, or the 
interests at stake of vital importance; particularly now that the length of 
campaigns had become greater and the seasons exempted from military 
operations shorter.    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.