FROM ENLIGHTENMENT TO THEOCRACY

The immediate causes within the play of the chain of events that leads to Oedipus’s downfall are, first, his sending of Creon to the Delphic

that he consciously and deliberately orchestrates the gradual revelation of his guilt to the Thebans by, for example, merely pretending to be angry with Teiresias and Creon (see 119-22, as well as 137, 167-9, 198-9, 225, 233).

10 Consider as well Arthur Waldock’s conclusion: “There is no meaning in the Qedipus Tyrannus. There is merely the terror of coincidence, and then, at the end of it all, our impression of man’s power to suffer, and of his greatness because of this power” (1966, 168). See also Nussbaum 1992, 262-3, 285-7.

Oracle to learn how Thebes might be saved from the plague — an action that immediately precedes the opening of the play — and then his summoning of Teiresias, early in the play. If Oedipus had not sought assistance from the oracle and soothsayer of Apollo, he would not have been led to investigate the killing of Laius, to decree that the killer be exiled or killed, to conclude that he was the killer, and to punish himself. To be sure, the revelation by the Corinthian messenger that Polybus and Merope are not his true parents does lead Oedipus to conclude that he has committed incest and patricide. But even by the time of that revelation, his decision to turn to the oracle and the soothsayer for help has committed him to trying to save Thebes by punishing the killer of Laius, has exposed him to the public accusations of Teiresias that he is guilty of regicide, patricide, and incest, and has placed him on the verge of discovering that he is the killer of Laius (see 216-75, 305-9, 3 5^o-3, 362, 449-6θ, 644-73, 697-706, 744-5, 747, 836-63, 1041-52). What then is the significance of Oedipus's turn to the gods for assistance?

To address this question, let us return to that fact about Oedipus the title of the play emphasizes - that he is a tyrant - and consider more carefully the distinctive character of Oedipus's rule.

But Oedipus's triumph over the Sphinx is not only a victory of brains over brawn, but also one of human reason over divine revelation. As Oedipus declares to the soothsayer Teiresias: “Since, come, tell me, where were you a clear soothsayer? How, when the chanting dog was here, did you not utter something for these townsmen here, to release them? Indeed, the riddle was not for the first man who came along, that he should solve it, but a divination was needed, which you were not able to bring to light, either from birds or from something known from the gods. But I came, the one who knows nothing, Oedipus, and put a stop to her, hitting the mark with my judgment, without having learned from birds” (390—8). Oedipus affirms here not only that Teiresias, the soothsayer of Apollo and the representative of divine wisdom, failed to solve the riddle of the Sphinx but that he, Oedipus, solved it through human reason alone.¹³ In this way, he seems to deny not only the veracity of soothsayers and oracles but also the need for divine assistance, since unassisted reason is sufficient to save such political communities as Thebes from such deadly monsters as the Sphinx. Oedipus's unconven­tional rule, or tyranny, seems to herald, then, the liberation of human wisdom and prudence from the benighted rule of soothsayers and oracles.

The chorus of Theban elders sets forth the conventional view that it is the gods — led by Zeus, the “lord of all things,” whose rule is “deathless, eternal” — who are the true rulers of human beings, who protect the city from harm, punish the wicked, provide humans with eternal, divine laws, and reveal their will to human beings through their oracles and soothsayers (904-5, 497-9, 158-67, 188-215, 863-72, 879-903). Teiresias, for example, is said by the chorus to know all that Apollo knows and is described as “the divine seer... in whom alone of human beings the truth has taken root” (284-6, 297-9). Indeed, the elders place such importance on the oracles and soothsayers that they declare that, if the oracles and soothsayers prove to be false, they will lose all faith in the gods' care for humans (897-910).

1264). Lattimore suggests that “his tragedy is the intellectual’s tragedy” (1958, 95). See also Wilson 1997, 178; Rocco 1997, 34-41; Van Nortwick 1998, ²5.

¹³ See, in contrast, the priest’s more pious account of Oedipus’s defeat of the Sphinx at 31-9, 46-53.

Under the reign of Laius, the soothsayers and oracles held such sway that they convinced the king and the queen to kill their only son and to remain childless (711—22, 1173—6; see also 114—5, 558—63). Later, Creon, who originally persuaded Oedipus to seek Teiresias’s assistance, stresses that, in contrast to Oedipus, he will seek divine guidance for all of his decisions as ruler. 1⁴ Oedipus’s rule is preceded and followed by pious kings under the more or less continuous sway of oracles and soothsayers. In contrast, under Oedipus’s rule, his wife Jocasta does not hesitate to deny publicly the veracity of all soothsayers and oracles: “Now you release yourself of the things you speak of and listen to me and learn why you can find no mortal being who possesses a soothsayer’s art.”1⁵ She suggests as well that there is no afterlife for human beings (955—6; cf. 971—2).

Oedipus's rule also seems to represent the elevation of reason over blood. Oedipus is the ruler of Thebes, even though he is not — apparently

— a member of the royal house or a native Cadmeian (see 14, 255—68; see also Knox 1998, 54). His rule is based, then, on a rejection of the conventional view that only native members of a community can be counted on to care for it. His title to rule is objective merit — his superior intelligence and character — rather than birth, and his devotion to Thebes

— which seems to surpass by far the devotion felt by any one else in the play — springs entirely from his soul, and not from his body.1⁷

Finally, Oedipus's rule represents an elevation of reason over age.

1 ⁷ See 63—4, 93—4. Whereas Oedipus refers to the city (noλlζ) seven times in his scene with Teiresias (302, 312, 322, 331, 340, 383, 442), Teiresias never refers either to the city or to its suffering as a result of the plague, and refuses to help Oedipus solve the murder of Laius and end that suffering (see Benardete 2000, 73, 128). Creon claims to be indifferent to political life and hence, it would seem, to the good of his city (see 582—602), though his later political career suggests that he may be hiding his public spiritedness and ambition from the tyrant Oedipus. EvenJocasta, who is the last character in the play to refer to the plague (634—6; but see 660—8), later urges Oedipus to desist from questioning the herdsman who was Laius's servant, even though that would mean closing the investigation of Laius's murder and hence abandoning all efforts to save the city from the plague (1054—72). Finally, everyone in the play, except for Oedipus, seems to be remarkably indifferent to the unsolved murder of Laius, even though that crime would seem to be against the whole community.

the play reminds us that, in the ordinary course of things, if Oedipus had remained in Corinth, he would not have become ruler until now, when he is in his mid- to late-thirties ((Oedipus the Tyrant 939—42). Yet he is chosen to rule by the Thebans simply by the sheer force of his virtue and wisdom.

Oedipus's tyrannical rule thus marks a great rebellion against the kingdom of darkness — the traditional rule of soothsayers, oracles, gods, kings, and elders — and the victory of enlightenment over superstition, reason over blood, wisdom over age. It constitutes an experiment in political rationalism, the attempt to free politics from the unreasonable constraints imposed by convention and law, human and divine. The true meaning of Oedipus's tyranny, then, is not that it is a rule of force — it is not — nor even that it is the rule of one, but rather that it is that form of rule that is freest from convention, law, and tradition and that is guided most of all by unaided human reason. In this light, the tyrannical character of Oedipus's rule is essential to its greatness, for its tyrannical character makes possible its enlightened character. Oedipus is the tyrant insofar, but only insofar, as he is the purely rational ruler.

But insofar as Oedipus's tyranny constitutes an experiment in political rationalism, the opening of the play marks the end of that experiment. For the actions with which the play virtually opens and that ultimately lead to his downfall — sending Creon to the Delphic Oracle and summoning the soothsayer Teiresias — mark Oedipus's break from the unassisted human reason he has relied on up till now and his turn for guidance to the oracles, the soothsayers, and ultimately the gods. It is not, then, Oedipus's rational, tyrannical rule but rather his abandonment thereof that leads to his downfall.

Yet, given Oedipus's own experiences with the Delphic Oracle and Teiresias, his turn to them for help is surprising and even bewildering. For when he turned to the oracle of Apollo for assistance as a young man and asked it who his parents were, the oracle refused to answer, even though it went on to underscore the vital importance of knowing an answer to this question by stating that Oedipus would kill his father and sleep with his mother (779—97). The oracle was therefore exceedingly cruel to Oedipus, for it told him that he would commit the crimes of patricide and incest but it refused to give him the information

that would enable him to avoid doing so. Moreover, Oedipus knows that, when Thebes faced destruction before at the hands of the Sphinx, Teiresias, the soothsayer of Apollo, was unable to save the city (390—8). Oedipus's only experiences with oracles and soothsayers up until now would seem to point to the conclusion that it is unreasonable for human beings to look to the gods for assistance either because the gods are whimsical and cruel beings or because, as Jocasta declares, it is not the gods but chance that rules over human affairs, that the gods do not exist, and those, like the oracle and Teiresias, who claim to be their spokesmen, are charlatans (977—9).

The play as a whole seems also to point to the conclusion either that the gods are whimsical and cruel or that they do not exist and the oracles and soothsayers are fraudulent. If the oracle at Delphi truly speaks for Apollo, then Apollo is guilty of extreme cruelty toward Oedipus. By telling Oedipus that he will kill his father and sleep with his mother, Apollo virtually commands him to flee his parents (786-97, 994-8, 1001, 1011, 1013). But by refusing to reveal to him who his parents are, Apollo makes it impossible for Oedipus to obey this command. In the end, Apollo leads the unwitting Oedipus to kill his father and sleep with his mother when he seeks to avoid doing so, just as, in the Ajax, Athena leads the unwitting Ajax to slaughter the Greek army's livestock when he seeks rather to kill his enemies.1⁸ Indeed, Apollo's treatment of Oedipus seems more clearly unjust than Athena's treatment of Ajax, since it is not prompted by any even alleged misdeed on Oedipus's part.1⁹ Furthermore, one wonders, why would Apollo send a plague to Thebes only now, some fifteen years after the crimes which he ostensibly wishes to punish have been committed? What possible purpose is served by waiting, while Oedipus and Jocasta have four children, before revealing and punishing Oedipus's incest and patricide (see 558—69 and also 1207—12)? Here, too, Apollo seems wantonly cruel toward Oedipus and his family. Finally, if Teiresias truly speaks for Apollo, then Apollo is cruel here as well. For Teiresias does not clearly and compassionately explain to Oedipus that, although he has committed patricide and incest, since he has done so unwittingly

¹⁸ See 774—833, 992-1013, 1329—30; Ajax 1—126.

¹⁹ Consider Ajax 127—33, 749—80. But see also 455—6, 121—6. and involuntarily, he is not truly responsible for those crimes. Instead, Teiresias speaks coyly, in riddles, and with evident malice about his crimes, and thereby ensures that Oedipus will go through the excruciating, drawn-out agony of angrily denying, then fearfully sus­pecting, and finally painfully concluding that he is guilty of incest and patricide.^[24] Moreover, Teiresias harshly blames him for those crimes and taunts him for his ignorance, rather than pointing out that pre­cisely his ignorance would seem to absolve him of responsibility for his crimes (364—7, 372—3, 412—28), as Oedipus himself will go on to argue in Oedipus at Colonus (270—4, 521—3, 546—8, 962—99). Finally, it is Teiresias alone who suggests to Oedipus that he should punish himself for these involuntary crimes by blinding himself (Oedipus the Tyrant 415—9, 454—6). The play thus suggests that if the gods exist, they are cruel beings indeed.

But the play also suggests that the gods may not exist at all and rather that, as Jocasta contends, the soothsayers and oracles are fraudulent and that blind chance governs the universe. First, it is important to note that, in contrast to the Ajax (1—133) and the Philoctetes (1409—71), gods or divine beings never appear on stage in Oedipus the Tyrant. We never see the gods but only hear of them from the oracles and the soothsayers. Yet these are, at the very least, fallible. Not only does Teiresias undeniably fail to solve the riddle of Sphinx — he himself never denies this failure — but the oracle that Oedipus will kill both his father and his mother proves to be false, at least literally (see 390-8, 438-42, 1171-6; but consider 1252-64 ). Moreover, the oracles contradict one another. The oracle of Apollo at Delphi states to Creon that many killed Laius, while Teiresias, the soothsayer of Apollo, claims that only Oedipus killed him (106-7, 305-9, 350-3, 362).^[25] Indeed, we never even learn with certainty that Oedipus killed Laius, since the key witness is never asked about the killing (compare 834—62 with 1039—53, 1119-85).²² But even if Oedipus is guilty of patricide as well as incest, Teiresias, who has had some fifteen years to investi­gate, could have learned of this on his own, from the herdsman, as Oedipus eventually does, rather than from Apollo.²³ Finally, we never learn with certainty whether the plague ended once Oedipus punished himself, and hence whether it truly was sent by the gods (see 305—9).²⁴ So many seemingly chance events are central to the story — the herdsman’s pity, Polybus’s childlessness, the Corinthian drunk (see 776), the meeting of Laius and Oedipus at the three roads, Oedipus’s arrival in Thebes, the death of Polybus, the identity of the Corinthian messenger — that it is at least possible that the plague too is a chance event (as Jocasta seems to suggest at 977—8), a sign not of the gods’ righteous anger at Thebes, or even of their simple cruelty, but rather of nature’s harsh indifference to human beings.²⁵

²² See Benardete 2000, 101, 132-3; Ormand 1999, 127-8.

²³ I therefore disagree with Knox’s claim that “The play takes a clear stand” in favor of “the truth... of prophecy” and hence constitutes a reassertion of piety against “the new concepts of the fifth-century philosophers and sophists” (1998, 43-4, 47; see also Gould 1988). Victor Ehrenberg argues that the play presents Sophocles’ pious warning against Socratic and especially Periclean rationalism (1954, 66—9, 136—66). But Whitman challenges those who “treat the play as a vivid proof of Sophocles’ simple faith and pure piety” and points out that “If Sophocles had wished to reawaken public religion, he could scarcely have chosen a worse way than by preaching the careless power of the gods and the nothingness of man - the very beliefs, in fact, which were themselves concomitants of the Athenians’ lawlessness and moral decay” (1971, 123, 134; but see also, for example, 146, 251; consider as well Rocco 1997^, 55^{-6, 6}3^-4).

²⁴ In contrast, Homer indicates clearly in Book I of the Iliad that the plague sent by Apollo is withdrawn once Agamemnon has returned Chryseis to her father, the priest of Apollo, in obedience to the god’s demands (9-100, 430-74).

²⁵ According to Segal, “The plague is not mentioned in the myth before Sophocles, and it may well be his invention.... Sophocles may have been influenced by the plague that broke out in Athens in 430” (2001, 27; see also 11-2; Whitman 1971, 49-50, 133-4; Lattimore 1958, 94-5; Rehm 1992, 111). For Thucydides’ suggestion that the plague that befell Athens was a sign, not of the gods’ anger, but of nature’s indifference to human beings, see 2.54.

Since the play as a whole, as well as Oedipus's experiences in par­ticular, suggest that the gods are either wantonly cruel or that they do not exist, and that their oracles and soothsayers are fraudulent, why does Oedipus abandon his rationalism and turn to the gods for help now? Why does Oedipus summon the very soothsayer Teiresias who, by Oedipus's own account, has always been a charlatan (compare 390—7 with 300—15; see also 432)? Why does Oedipus turn for help to the very oracle that refused before even to tell him who his parents were?

The immediate cause of Oedipus's turn to the gods for assistance is the plague. The plague constitutes the greatest crisis of Oedipus's rule, for it threatens Thebes with complete destruction. As the priest puts it, “The house of Cadmus is emptied and black Hades grows rich in groans and wails” (29—30; see 14—57, 151—215). Oedipus responds by explaining that he has thought long and hard about the crisis, has considered every possible remedy for the plague, and has discovered only one — namely, to send Creon to Apollo to learn how he may save the city (58—72). Oedipus speaks here as though he has arrived at the conclusion through reason — after “considering well” (et σκoπωv-68) — that the only way that Thebes can be saved from destruction is by turning to the oracle of Apollo for help. But as we have seen, Oedipus's own experience with both the oracle and the soothsayer of Apollo would seem to suggest that it is unreasonable to turn to the gods for help. As he knows, Apollo either declined or was unable either to tell him who his parents were or to save Thebes from the Sphinx. Oedipus's reason, then, would seem to lead to the conclusion that there simply is no remedy for the plague and that the plague may destroy Thebes or may peter out, but that Oedipus is helpless before its deadly power.

Oedipus, however, evidently cannot accept that conclusion. He rejects what would seem to be the rational conclusion that, just as individual human beings are mortal, so are political communities. Oedipus cannot face the death of the city to which he is so devoted. He cannot face the possibility that the world or the gods are indifferent to its fate. Therefore, when reason points to that possibility, he rejects reason and fervently embraces instead the pious hope and belief of the chorus that it is beneficent and moral gods, rather than indifferent gods or blind chance, who rule over human beings. Not only does Oedipus send Creon to the oracle of Apollo to learn how to save the city from destruction; he also declares that he himself would be evil if he did not obey Apollo in all things, he prays to Apollo to save Thebes, he prays that the gods punish those who do evil, and he affirms that he will be a just ally to Apollo, that the Thebans can only succeed with the god's help, and that Teiresias, the soothsayer of Apollo, is the only possible savior of the city (76—7, 80—I, 246—54, 269—72, 135—6, 244—5, 145—6, 303—4). When Oedipus learns from the Delphic Oracle that Apollo requires that he solve the murder of Laius in order to save Thebes from the plague, Oedipus does not attempt to question on his own either the sole witness to that murder or even his wife Jocasta, but rather follows Creon's advice that he summon Teiresias, the soothsayer of Apollo.^[26] Most importantly, Oedipus prays that, for those Thebans who are just, “May Justice, your ally, and all the gods benefit you forever” (273—5). In all these ways, Oedipus affirms that the gods rule over humans, that they are just, that they punish the wicked and reward the good, and that they bestow on the latter the reward of everlasting happiness (consider also 816, 830—3). Oedipus responds to the seemingly unavoidable death of all that he cares about by abandoning his political rationalism and by affirming that human beings can escape death and dwell with the gods “forever” if only they will act justly and piously.

Through the example of Oedipus, Sophocles suggests that the problem of human mortality constitutes the fundamental obstacle to the attempt to rule either one's political society or one's own life by human reason alone. For reason requires us human beings to accept our mortal nature and the terrible fragility that that nature imposes on us. It requires us to accept that all that we care about — our country, our loved ones, ourselves — can be taken from us at any moment, and inevitably will be taken from us. Through the case of Oedipus, Sophocles suggests that such an austere resignation, which calls on us to deny our greatest hopes, is simply beyond the reach of virtually all humans. To be sure, through the case of Jocasta, Sophocles might seem to offer an example of one who accepts with equanimity the belief that blind chance governs our lives. Yet by claiming that life is easiest if one lives, not according to reason, but according to one's will or whim [βiκη-979), Jocasta herself suggests that she also finds the austerity required by reason too difficult to bear, and hence that she tries to avoid even thinking about the terrible power of chance (977—83). Further­more, the fact that Jocasta prays to Apollo when she fears for Oedipus's well-being reveals that, like Oedipus, she embraces piety when what she loves most is threatened (911—23; see also 646—8). Through the examples of both Oedipus and Jocasta, then, Sophocles suggests that the human longing to protect what one loves from harm and from death, a longing that political rationalism cannot ultimately satisfy, will incline even seemingly rationalistic human beings to embrace the belief in just gods who rule over us and who reward the righteous with eternal well-being. For piety offers us humans the hope that the gods will protect those we love “forever” (273—5).

Yet, although Sophocles teaches that political rationalism tends to collapse in the face of death, and hence that reason is weak, he also suggests that we need reason in order to attain such happiness as is available to such mortal beings as ourselves. As the play shows, when Oedipus's rationalism would seem to dictate resignation in the face of the destructive power of nature, his desire to protect what he loves most — apparently Thebes — leads him to reject that rationalism and turn to the gods. But it is that very rejection of reason and turn to piety that ultimately lead to his downfall.^[27]