This book explores the issue of a collective representation of Ireland after the sudden death of the 'Celtic Tiger' and introduces the aesthetic idea that runs throughout. The focus is on the idea articulated by W. B. Yeats in his famous poem 'The Second Coming'. The book also explores the symbolic order and imaginative structure, the meanings and values associated with house and home, the haunted houses of Ireland's 'ghost estates' and the fiscal and moral foundations of the collective household. It examines the sophisticated financial instruments derived from mortgage-backed securities that were a lynchpin of global financialization and the epicentre of the crash, the question of the fiscal and moral foundations of the collective household of Europe. A story about fundamental values and principles of fairness and justice is discussed, in particular, the contemporary conflict that reiterates the ancient Irish mythic story of the Tain. The book suggests correspondences between Plato's Republic and the Irish republic in the deformations and devolution of democracy into tyranny. It traces a red thread from the predicament of the ancient Athenians to contemporary Ireland in terms of the need to govern pleonexia, appetites without limits. The political and economic policies and practices of Irish development, the designation of Ireland's 'tax free zones', are also discussed. Finally, the ideal type of person who has been emerging under the auspices of the neoliberal revolution is imagined.
One recurring motif in recent claims about the illiberal cultures of universities has been the deployment of the figure of Socrates, the fifth-century BCE Athenian philosopher. ‘From Socrates to Salman Rushdie, heretical figures have been persecuted by powerful authorities, whether by the church or the state’, proclaimed the blurb for a discussion of ‘The Dangerous Rise of Academic Mobbing’, featuring Professor Nigel Biggar, as part of a UK Battle of Ideas Festival in October 2019. In his account of ‘academic mobbing’, including his own experience, the
presentation, is what matters in political speeches.
Benn’s argument has an excellent pedigree, stretching back at least to Socrates’
complaints about the Athenian Sophists. In the terms deployed in this volume, it is a
claim based on the notion that logos is the only legitimate tool of persuasion. But the
obvious rejoinder to Benn (and Socrates) is that facts cannot speak for themselves.
Benn’s critics, indeed, thought that he was not merely an orator but an exponent of
a pernicious approach to public speaking, using the usual range of rhetorical devices
increasingly took over the control and
administration of warships. In the archaic period, privately owned vessels
may have been significant, such as the ship provided by the Athenian
Cleinias at the Battle of Artemisium in 480 BC (Hdt. 8.17; cf. Plut. Alc.
1) or the trireme of Philip of Croton that joined the expedition of Dorieus
(Hdt. 5.47) in c. 510 BC. Yet by the Persian wars, it seems to have been
the norm that ships were constructed and maintained at public expense,
or by individuals acting on behalf of the state. The ships were considered
as the property of the state
.141). He argued that such concerns
limited farmers’ desire for long campaigns.
The impact of war
During the early years of the Peloponnesian War, the Megarians repeatedly
suffered at the hands of the Athenians, who regularly invaded their territory
(Thuc. 4.66 ff.). Attacks often came soon after the withdrawal of the annual
Peloponnesian invasion of Attica, in which the Megarians themselves participated, with further Athenian invasions later in each year, aimed at disrupt-
3033 The ancient Greeks
The ancient Greeks at war
ing the harvest
, the Athenian acropolis in the fifth and
fourth centuries became the site of religious monumentalisation.
Secondly, the growth of communities beyond their most defensible cores
necessitated the inclusion of areas where terrain was less useful for defence.
The need to include vital water sources within defences that met the needs
of a larger population meant that flourishing cities were, in a sense, victims
of their own success, and had to invest in more elaborate defences to accommodate their needs. Not every state could be as confident as Sparta that its
Athenian farmer, Dicaeopolis, who became so exasperated with the
Athenian assembly, which failed to debate the issue of peace sensibly, that he
came to private terms with the enemy. The contrast between the ongoing
war and his personal peace was made in scenes that were richly comic and
allegorical (Newiger 1980, 223). Lamachus, a general who denounced
Dicaeopolis’ private truce, was made to march off and winter in the passes
of Attica to guard against a Boeotian incursion, while Dicaeopolis set off to
attend a banquet (Ach. 1143–9). Lamachus returned injured in the arms
, described how many communities, under the leadership of
Sparta (but with a decisive military contribution by Athens), banded
together to resist a massive Persian invasion of Greece in 480–479 BC. In his
sprawling and ‘universal’ account of this invasion, he describes many other
earlier events and wars from the preceding centuries, for which he often
remains the only, or the earliest source. Thucydides, by contrast, generally
confined himself to contemporary events. His theme was the conflict that
grew up between the Spartan alliance and the Athenian-led Delian League
themselves in battle.
Gods and heroes of the legendary past are recorded as appearing in a
number of battles of the archaic and classical periods. When, for example,
the cult images of the Dioscuri that usually accompanied the Spartans into
battle were lent to the southern Italian Locrians in their war against the men
of Croton, the twins were seen fighting at the River Sagra (c. 550 BC, Diod.
8.22). The Athenians believed that Theseus himself had appeared at the
Battle of Marathon (490 BC, Plut. Thes. 35). The paintings on the Stoa
Poikile (Painted Stoa) in