The incessant wars in Herodotus were motivated not only by the personal ambition of leaders and the grudges they bore, but, perhaps more importantly, by the quest for plunder:
So Aristagoras went to Sardis and told Artaphernes that Naxos was an island of no great size, but a fair land and fertile, lying near Ionia, and containing much treasure and a vast number of slaves. "Make war then upon this land (he said) and reinstate the exiles; for if thou wilt do this, first of all, I have very rich gifts in store for thee (besides the cost of the armament, which it is fair that we who are the authors of the war should pay); and, secondly, thou wilt bring under the power of the king not only Naxos but the other islands which depend on it, as Paros, Andros, and all the rest of the Cyclades. And when thou hast gained these, thou mayeshe mentionst easily go on against Euboea, which is a large and wealthy island not less in size than Cyprus, and very easy to bring under. A hundred ships were quite enough to subdue the whole."
It's hard to escape the feeling that, whatever monuments you may see as you tour the world, they were all erected with money plundered in one way or another from foreign conquests and exploitation, domestic oppression, and slavery.
I only spent a morning in the old part of Charleston on this trip, and it was much more splendid that I remembered it. Until the Civil War, Charleston was a major center of commerce, a wealthy, cosmopolitan, and impressive city, and all its prosperity was based on slavery. I gather from the information on the Internet that Charleston is no reemerging. The old, historic area (South of Broad) is one of the most beautiful urban places I've been in. And the historical buildings, so beautifully restored and maintained, probably all owe their glory to wealth based on slavery.
History seemed to be more present in what I saw of the South, probably because so many of the issues remain unresolved: the contrast between gentility and cruelty, the sophistication of the wealthy Charleston elite, who traveled in Europe and brought works of art and furnishings home with them, and the ferocity of those who went to Africa to bring back slaves.
History is what Charleston sells to tourists.
I took a water taxi across the harbor after my morning in Charleston, to meet my cousin Beth, so we could leave for North Carolina. The ride was pleasant and breezy, enjoyable. My destination was Patriot's Point, where a decommissioned aircraft carrier, submarine, and destroyer are anchored as tourist attractions (Charleston is long on tourist attractions), along with hundreds of pleasure boats. The water taxi sailed right under the shadow of the aircraft carrier, the USS Yorktown, built in 1943 at a cost of 68-78 million 1942 dollars, a billion or more of today's dollars. As we approached the huge ship, I was aghast thinking about the amount of money it must have cost to build it (I estimated about a fifth of its actual cost), and for what: to kill people so they wouldn't kill us. Herodotus would feel right at home, if he could somehow realize that the enormous vessel floating at Patriot's Point was a descendant of the Greek, Persian, and Phoenician war ships that figure in his book.
As aircraft carriers go, the Yorktown is tiny, roughly a third of the displacement and a fourth of the cost. As a monumental waste of money, it doesn't have to be any bigger than it is.
So Aristagoras went to Sardis and told Artaphernes that Naxos was an island of no great size, but a fair land and fertile, lying near Ionia, and containing much treasure and a vast number of slaves. "Make war then upon this land (he said) and reinstate the exiles; for if thou wilt do this, first of all, I have very rich gifts in store for thee (besides the cost of the armament, which it is fair that we who are the authors of the war should pay); and, secondly, thou wilt bring under the power of the king not only Naxos but the other islands which depend on it, as Paros, Andros, and all the rest of the Cyclades. And when thou hast gained these, thou mayeshe mentionst easily go on against Euboea, which is a large and wealthy island not less in size than Cyprus, and very easy to bring under. A hundred ships were quite enough to subdue the whole."
It's hard to escape the feeling that, whatever monuments you may see as you tour the world, they were all erected with money plundered in one way or another from foreign conquests and exploitation, domestic oppression, and slavery.
I only spent a morning in the old part of Charleston on this trip, and it was much more splendid that I remembered it. Until the Civil War, Charleston was a major center of commerce, a wealthy, cosmopolitan, and impressive city, and all its prosperity was based on slavery. I gather from the information on the Internet that Charleston is no reemerging. The old, historic area (South of Broad) is one of the most beautiful urban places I've been in. And the historical buildings, so beautifully restored and maintained, probably all owe their glory to wealth based on slavery.
History seemed to be more present in what I saw of the South, probably because so many of the issues remain unresolved: the contrast between gentility and cruelty, the sophistication of the wealthy Charleston elite, who traveled in Europe and brought works of art and furnishings home with them, and the ferocity of those who went to Africa to bring back slaves.
History is what Charleston sells to tourists.
I took a water taxi across the harbor after my morning in Charleston, to meet my cousin Beth, so we could leave for North Carolina. The ride was pleasant and breezy, enjoyable. My destination was Patriot's Point, where a decommissioned aircraft carrier, submarine, and destroyer are anchored as tourist attractions (Charleston is long on tourist attractions), along with hundreds of pleasure boats. The water taxi sailed right under the shadow of the aircraft carrier, the USS Yorktown, built in 1943 at a cost of 68-78 million 1942 dollars, a billion or more of today's dollars. As we approached the huge ship, I was aghast thinking about the amount of money it must have cost to build it (I estimated about a fifth of its actual cost), and for what: to kill people so they wouldn't kill us. Herodotus would feel right at home, if he could somehow realize that the enormous vessel floating at Patriot's Point was a descendant of the Greek, Persian, and Phoenician war ships that figure in his book.
As aircraft carriers go, the Yorktown is tiny, roughly a third of the displacement and a fourth of the cost. As a monumental waste of money, it doesn't have to be any bigger than it is.
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