<<

IOANNIS D. EVRIGENIS

Enlightenment, Emancipation, and National Identity: Korais and the Ancients

I. Preliminaries of a life in the classics

Attempting to demonstrate, towards the end of the seventeenth century, that the enslaved descendants of the original possessors of a country “retain a Right to the Possession of their Ancestors”, wondered, “Who doubts but the Grecian Christians descendants of the ancient possessors of that Country may justly cast off the Turkish yoke which they have so long groaned under when ever they have a power to do it?”1. Many, in fact, did. In his essay “Of National Characters”, published in 1748, expressed a widely held view when he remarked, “The ingenuity, industry, and activity of the ancient have nothing in common with the stupidity and indolence of the present inhabitants of those regions”2. A Greek contemporary of Hume’s might well take offense to his description, and an impartial listener would not be entirely mistaken in considering his attitude towards modern to be divergent from Locke’s. And yet, no less illustrious a than Adamantios Korais, born on April 27th of the year in which Hume’s essay was published, found the essence of these two positions simultaneously correct and inextricably intertwined3. After all, by the middle of the eighteenth century, the Greek world had been under Ottoman domination for some 300 years, and liberation was still far off.

From the outset of his brief autobiography, Korais makes it clear that the lack of learning among his compatriots was the principal cause of their predicament. His father, he tells us, was not fortunate enough to receive an , “not only because the entire nation was, at that time, uneducated (except for a few adorned with a fake education, rather than a true one), but also because he had been orphaned at a very tender age”4. Slightly more fortunate on the other side, Korais was born to a mother who could read, write, and “understand ably the writings of decaying Hellenism”, the daughter of Adamantios Rysios, “the wisest man, at the time, in Greek ”, whose library Korais inherited5. According to Korais, between the two of them his parents supplied the

1. John Locke, Two Treatises of Government, ed. Peter Laslett (Cambridge, 1960), II § 192. 2. David Hume, “Of National Characters” in Essays Moral, Political, and Literary, ed. E.F. Miller, 197- 215 (Indianapolis, 1985), p. 206. 3. See, e.g., Prolegomena, 1, p. 188-89. Unless otherwise indicated, all translations are my own. 4. Adamantios Korais, “Vios Adamantiou Korai” in Prolegomena, 1, p. viii, hereafter referred to as “Vios”. 5. Vios, viii-ix. Rysios longed for male heirs, but fathered four daughters. He gave these a rudimentary education, and awaited eagerly the opportunity to educate their male children. Nearing death and having seen no grandchildren from them, however, he drew up a will leaving his library to the first of his male grandchildren to finish school. Korais, born a year after Rysios’s death, was the beneficiary (Vios, p. xi-xii). On Rysios, see Andreas Z. Mamoukas, ed. Adamantios Korais, Vios kai Erga (1881, reprint: : 1989),

103

principles that shaped his life in letters. Although incapable, on their own, of educating him and his only surviving sibling, his mother and father instilled in Korais a love of learning and a sense of interest in and obligation to the common good. Even though he lived in , a metropolis of sorts, Korais received a rudimentary education supplemented, he tells us, by “abundant caning”, and small though it was, his grandfather’s library was nevertheless more than enough to make him aware very quickly of the limits of his knowledge. This was a time, after all, in which one familiar with the declensions of nouns and conjugations of verbs was hailed as “Logiotatos i kai Sofologiotatos”, which can be translated loosely as “most erudite or even wisest of the most erudite”6.

Korais reports his dismay at realizing his inability to read Greek authors properly, and describes the passion that consumed him to begin his education anew and properly. His complaint was twofold. On the one side was the matter of the language and its relationship to that of the ancients. On the other was the state of Greek education reflected in the inability of modern Greeks to access, evaluate, reclaim, and reproduce texts that were naturally their own7. The best, in fact the only, commentaries on classical Greek authors were those of foreigners. Someone in Korais’ position, therefore, needed not only good training in Ancient Greek, but also knowledge of , so as to be able to understand centuries’ worth of editorial work on the texts, and thus be an intelligent participant in debates about their meaning and import8. For all its hustle and bustle, Smyrna could not supply a teacher of Latin, so Korais had to confine himself to French and Italian lessons, available mainly for their utility in matters commercial. This new venture, however, was but a small remove from his Greek instruction; at least, he notes, his French and Italian teachers did not cane him9. One wishing to learn Latin could turn only to Western priests, in particular Jesuits, but prejudice against them ran high and, as a result, this was not an easy move to make. Nevertheless, make it he did. Bernhard Keun, a priest in the Dutch consulate was looking for someone to teach him Greek, and was pleased to hear that Korais required no payment beyond Latin lessons. It turns out, however, that either Korais had little to teach or that Keun was a very fast learner, for the student caught up with the master in a matter of weeks. Nevertheless, under pretence of need, but really out of benevolence, Keun continued to tutor Korais for as long as the latter remained in Smyrna10. In fact, Keun’s esp. pp. 71-77. Theodore H. Papadopoullos, Studies and Documents relating to the of the Greek Church and People under Turkish Domination, 2nd ed. (Aldershot: Variorum, 1990), 408. 6. Vios, xii. 7. The state of Greek culture and civilization would become the central theme of Korais’ work. In 1803, he presented and published a work entitled Mémoire sur l’état actuel de la civilisation dans la Grèce. 8. Korais notes that “as it happens, because such editions in Smyrna at the time were unheard of”, among his grandfather’s books was a reprint of Casaubon’s 1620 edition of (, 1707), and attributes his desire to learn Latin to his inability to benefit from Casaubon’s lengthy notes (Vios, xiii-xiv). 9. Vios, xiii. 10. Vios, xv-xvi. 104

contribution to Korais’ education extended beyond Latin instruction. In his library, Korais found the kinds of sources that took him a step beyond the collection of Rysios, and was thus able to continue his study not only of his beloved Greek texts but also of Hebrew, a language he decided to take up in preparation for learning Arabic. To learn Arabic, which would have been necessary to a serious scholar of Ancient Greek, he would have had to be taught by a Turk, yet the very name “Turk”, he claims, “caused [him] convulsions”11. He thus opted for Hebrew, which he saw as a stepping stone, hoping for an opportunity to someday find a non-Turk who could teach him Arabic. Naively, perhaps, from his exposure to these treasure troves of Greek, Latin, and Hebrew knowledge, Korais concluded that the lights of the Hellenic, Roman, and Judaic civilizations must have emigrated to Europe. How else could one explain that Greeks and Jews knew nothing of their languages, yet Western Europeans did? Korais’ opportunity to go to Europe came once again through trade. His father wished to expand his business to Holland, and it was decided that Korais would represent his interests there. He thus boarded a Dutch ship to Amsterdam, where he was received by Keun’s friend Adrien Buurt, who became his new teacher. Korais spent six years in Amsterdam, trying to balance trade and learning, feeling an increasing urge never to return to his enslaved fatherland. In his autobiography, he speaks of his experience in a law- governed society as having transformed his hatred for the Turks into a “maniacal revulsion”12. After a brief tour of Europe and return to Smyrna, Korais secured his parents’ permission to study medicine in France, and, in 1782, left for , where he remained for six years. In 1788, he went to , just in time to witness first hand the momentous changes that were about to take place. In describing his first reaction to the , Korais notes his surprise at the fact that a nation appearing as light as Aristophanes’ Athens could be concealing such a great number of philosophical men, “revealed unexpectedly by the abuse of the then absolute monarchy, and constituted as the legislators of the new state”13. The political change in France was the last straw for Korais who had by that time rejected completely the idea of returning home to live under tyranny. He resolved to devote his energy to furthering the education of his countrymen, a resolution strengthened by his realization that it was “the rise and spread of education that gave birth to the love of in France”14. Korais found the preparation and publication of Classical Greek authors to be the “only means” of such an education, and decided thus to devote the sum of his energies to perfecting his knowledge of Ancient Greek, so as to produce such

11. Vios, xvi. 12. Vios, xxi. On the significance of Korais’ stay in Amsterdam for his development, see Richard Clogg, “The Classics and the Movement for Greek Independence” in The Impact of Classical Greece on European and National Identities: Proceedings of an International Colloquium, Held at the Netherlands Institute at Athens, 2-4 October 2000, edited by Margriet Haagsma, Pim den Boer, & Eric M. Moormann (Amsterdam, 2003), p. 25-46, p. 28. 13. Vios, xxiv. 14. Vios, xxv. 105

critical editions as could be accessible to the common man15. Thus was born the idea for what eventually became the “Hellenic Library”. Korais’ admiration for the Revolutionaries was followed by high hopes for the role that could play in freeing the enslaved peoples of Europe. Both sentiments, however, quickly turned into disappointment, as the General did not fulfill his promise. For Korais, the disappointment was all the more intense, as he had hoped that Napoleon’s campaigns in Egypt would translate into the beginning of a more sustained war against the , and thus bring about the liberation of Greece16. Indirectly, however, the First Consul of France contributed to the Greek cause by commissioning a translation of Strabo’s Geography. As it happens, the man in charge of the project was Korais’ former teacher, Chaptal, who included Korais in the three-man team charged with the work17. In 1805, the editors presented the first volume of the edition to Napoleon, who by that time had become Emperor18. He, in turn, awarded them a life-long pension, and eventually sought to have Korais appointed as censor for Greek and Greek-related books. That same year, Korais also published on his own a volume entitled Precursor to the Hellenic Library, launching the series and initiating a string of prefatory remarks, entitled “Improvised Reflections regarding Hellenic Education and Language”, wherein he would address the major educational and political issues facing Modern Greece, which he saw as intimately connected. II. The “Announcement”19

15. Vios, κε′. 16. See Paschalis M. Kitromilides, I Galliki Epanastasi kai i Notioanatoliki Evropi [The French Revolution and Southeastern Europe], 2nd ed. (Athens, 2000), p. 56-57. 17. See Germaine Aujac, “Napoléon, Coray, et la première traduction française de la Géographie de Strabon”, Geographia Antiqua 1 (1992), 37-55. 18. This edition was reviewed in the Edinburgh Review, in 1810 (vol. 16, p. 55-62). The reviewer, who may have been Everett, begins, “Our attention was first directed to this publication, by the celebrity of the reputed translator; for we had understood, that a version of Strabo had been undertaken by M. Coray, a native of Greece, whose various productions have procured him considerable reputation among the scholars of Europe” (55). The reviewer then proceeds to list some of these productions, and notes that in his preface to the edition of Heliodorus, Korais “mentions the bad style of those who have written in modern Greek; and ends with a spirited address to his countrymen, exhorting them to rouse themselves, and to do something worthy of their ancestors” (56). He proceeds to state that Korais “appears to us to be a man of elegant mind, and an extensive acquaintance with the best writers of Greece; but by no means remarkable for a very accurate knowledge of the language. His notes on Hippocrates are tedious, and frequently nothing to the purpose; and in his remarks on , he is scarcely ever in the right. His French style, however, is clear, and generally elegant; and the conclusion of his ‘Discours Préliminaire’ prefixed to the treatise of Hippocrates, is really affecting and eloquent”. The reviewer then judges the “learned” Korais as superior to Polyzois, the only other Greek editor of Ancient Greek texts known to him. The review concludes as follows: “The defects, however, of the present publication are small, when compared with its merits; and we feel no hesitation in stating our opinion, that the work is creditable both to the translators and the French nation. We only regret that the expensive form in which it appears, is likely to confine the use of it to a few, at least in this country” (62). 19. “Prokirixis Neas Ekdoseos Ellinikon Poiiton kai Syggrapheon, itis Ginetai dia Dapanis ton Adelphon Zosimadon, dia tous spoudazontas tin Ellinikin Glossan Ellinas ” [Announcement of a New Edition of 106

Between 1782 and 1805, Korais had edited and published a series of texts, some of them critical editions of Ancient Greek authors. The Napoleonic commission is but the most visible sign of the fact that he had established himself as something of an authority in this line of work, and the judgment of the experts confirms the imperial favor20. Although most of his output during this period consisted of medical and political treatises, he nevertheless published critical editions of Theophrastus and Heliodorus, as well as works on Hippocrates. The Announcement of the Hellenic Library, however, marked the start of a new phase. This is apparent from Korais’ opening statement, wherein he turns to those whom he had sought to understand and emulate in his formative years. Though crucial to someone like him, the copious annotations with which classicists adorned their editions of Greek texts were ultimately useless to the readers he was attempting to reach. Clearly and unambiguously severing himself from his academic past, Korais declares his intention to make use of all that he has learned from it in order to produce the best and most accessible editions of essential texts for those who wish to learn the . These would be unencumbered by the usual apparatus and come without the customary Latin translation, and thus be cheaper but also more useful, forcing Greek and foreigner alike to learn the language without the crutch of a parallel translation21. The customary formalities and clerical considerations that one would expect in this type of announcement are there too, but in this case they have a special significance. After all, this is not a series published for profit. It was to be a long and expensive enterprise, and even though Korais had succeeded in finding donors willing and able to support him over an extended period of time, there was no guarantee that things would be so at the beginning22. The long and tortuous story of the publication of his own collected works is but one example of the usual course of such projects. Thus, Korais offers special praise to the generous Brothers Zosima, the financial backers of the project, and takes the opportunity to call on others, similarly fortunate, to emulate them. Cooperation among many would be required at several levels. Although the publication of the books would be covered by the Brothers Zosima, it would be necessary to establish networks of buyers

Hellenic Poets and Authors, which is made possible by funding from the Brothers Zosima, for those Hellenes studying the Hellenic Language] in Prolegomena, 1, p. 57-64, hereafter referred to as “Prokyrixis”. 20. See, e.g., George Ch. Soulis, “Adamantios Korais and Edward Everett” in Mélanges offerts à Octave et Melpo Merlier à l’occasion du 25e anniversaire de leur arrivée en Grèce (Athens: Institut Français, 1956), 2:397-407; Richard Clogg, “Korais and the Movement for Greek Independence”, History Today 33 (October 1983), 10-14, p. 11; Clogg, “The Classics and the Movement for Greek Independence”, p. 29-30. 21. Prokirixis, 1, p. 57-58, 60-61. Daskalakis reports that foreign classicists expressed their dislike for his long introductions in Greek, which “may have been suitable for his uneducated nation, but unnecessary and quite tiresome for foreign philologists”. See Apostolos V. Daskalakis, Adamantios Korais kai i eleftheria ton Ellinon [A. Korais and the freedom of the Greeks] (Athens, 1965), p. 214-15. 22. Korais offers a glimpse of the difficulties involved in finding and retaining donors for a project of this kind at the beginning of his introduction to the second volume of Plutarch’s Lives (1810), where he announces the passing of Michael Zosimas, his principal donor, but assures his audience that Zosimas has ensured, through his will, that his brothers will continue to fund the project (Prolegomena, 1, p. 385-86). 107

who could disseminate the works to teachers and worthy students. To that end, Korais encourages Greeks living abroad to buy copies from booksellers in Vienna, Trieste, Venice, and Livorno, who have been instructed to sell the books to Greeks 20% cheaper than to foreigners, provided they purchase at least ten copies and send them to those, in Greece, who cannot afford them on their own23. Korais closes the Announcement with an exhortation to his compatriots and brethren, “those honored with the illustrious name of Hellenes”, to support him by taking advantage of the fruits of his labor. Under Ottoman rule, he argues, those who have been fortunate enough to be born into wealth have only that wealth to separate them from others of their nation. Times are changing, however, and “the Hellenic race has begun to understand that whoever has eyes is superior to the blind, as is the educated to the uneducated, the well-disposed to the ill-disposed, in sum, that the true superiority is only superiority in education and virtue”24. To the poor, he gives the same advice for a different : “education not only enlightens, but also frees one from poverty and the shame of poverty”25. He thus urges all to escape the slavery of ignorance and seize the opportunity to emancipate themselves. Excuses there may have been many in the past, but as schools had been multiplying in Greece, the only remaining one was the absence of books, a problem that had been solved by the generosity of the Brothers Zosima. Between the publication of the Precursor, in 1805, and 1827, Korais published sixteen volumes in the Hellenic Library and another thirteen volumes of so-called “secondary” works by ancient authors, in a series entitled “Parerga Ellinikis Vivliothikis” [bye-works of the Hellenic Library]. The former list included two volumes of Isocrates’ speeches, Plutarch’s Lives in six, Strabo’s Geography in four, Aristotle’s Politics and Nicomachean Ethics, Xenophon’s Memorabilia along with Plato’s Gorgias, and Lycurgus’s speech against Leocrates. The latter collection included parts of ’s , Onesander, collections of Aesop’s fables and Plutarch’s political writings, and various other works of Greek authors but also a volume of . This impressive output was not Korais’ only work during this period, however. He is far better known as a political pamphleteer, a vigorous participant in the heated debate on the past, present, and future of the Greek language, and an active source of advice in the many pressing issues surrounding the liberation of a nation from three and a half centuries of oppression, as well as the founding of a state. Outside of Greece, Korais is a little-known figure, and for Greeks it is usually the latter aspect of his work that holds the most interest. For its part, the Hellenic Library justifies this view of Korais, since the very first set of “Improvised Reflections”, immediately following the Announcement of the series, runs for some 130 pages, most of which have to do with the state of the language and the problems that those who are seeking to educate the Greeks must address. To suggest that one could focus on the broader educational character of Korais’ “Reflections” while

23. Prokirixis, 1, p. 61-62. 24. Prokirixis, 1, p. 63. 25. Prokirixis, 1, p. 63. 108

bracketing the language debate, which tends to receive the most attention from commentators26, would be to propose the absurd, but I would nevertheless like to err on the neglected side of his prolegomena and focus mainly on some of the educational implications of his proposals, as laid out in three installments: the first volume of the series (1805), the two volumes of Isocrates that followed immediately, in 1807, and the six volumes of Plutarch’s Lives, published between 1809 and 181427. Though spanning the entirety of his “Reflections”, this sample does not extend to the prefaces to later works, wherein Korais addresses matters that pertain to statecraft more explicitly, and, as such, merit their own attention. Needless to say, therefore, the sample is incomplete, but it suffices to give a basic picture of Korais’ educational principles as they developed in this crucial period.

III. “Improvised Reflections”28

The bulk of the first set of “Reflections” is devoted to linguistic minutiae that address the relationship of the language of and its Modern counterpart, but from the very outset Korais makes it clear that there are other why he is interested in these. As he had noted in the Announcement, the absence of books was the last serious obstacle to the education of the nation. He returns to this claim at the beginning of his “Reflections”, in order to blame those who follow the general practice of the classicists, by making their books inaccessible to the common man. Texts are encumbered by notes that hinder rather than help the reader, and so-called aids are unhelpful. There are too many grammars, and those are too complex and with no apparent practical payoff29. Korais’ principle here is the same that guided his transition from the classics proper to the Hellenic Library: the apparatus should be such as to help the reader progress through the text and understand it, and the grammar should be such as to teach the speaker the basic rules of the language. This relatively low threshold is necessitated by the state of the nation and the absence of uniform standards. In his own colorful way, he likens the situation of Greece in

26. See, e.g., Stephen G. Chaconas, Adamantios Korais: A Study in Greek (New York, 1942), p. 58-63; C.Th. Dimaras, Neoellinikos Diaphotismos, 2nd edition (Athens, 1977), p. 301-89; Clogg, “The Classics and the Movement for Greek Independence”, p. 31. 27. Prolegomena, 1, p. 65-193, 385-577, 2, p. 601-746. The original editions were: Prodromos Ellinikis Vivliothikis, periechon Clavdiou Ailianou tin poikilin istorian, Irakleidou tou Pontikou, Nikolaou tou Damaskinou, ta sozomena. Ois prosetethisan kai vraheiai simeioseis, kai Stochasmoi Aftoschedioi peri tis ellinikis paideias kai glossis. Filotimo dapani ton ADELPHON ZOSIMADON, paideias eneka ton tin Ellada phonin didaskomenon ellinon (Paris: Firmin Didot, 1805); Ploutarchou Vioi Paralliloi, ois prosetethisan kai simeioseis, kai ton Aftoschedion Stochasmon peri tis ellinikis paideias kai glossis akolouthia. Philotimo dapani ton ADELPHON ZOSIMADON, paideias eneka ton tin Ellada phonin didaskomenon ellinon, 6 vols. Paris: I.M. Eberhardt, 1809-1814. The subtitle of the sixth volume reads “Ois prosetethisan kai simeioseis, kai ton Aftoschedion Stochasmon peri tis ellinikis paideias kai glossis to telos”. 28. “STOCHASMOI AFTOSCHEDIOI …” in Prolegomena, 1, p. 65-193, 317-69, 385-577. 29. See, e.g., Prolegomena, 1, p. 67-74, 178. 109

1805 to a naked man: his first concern should be to cover himself; “luxurious Indian fabrics are for those who have numerous changes of clothes”30! In many ways, however, the obstacles erected by the multitude of grammarians are not as significant as those posed by the enemies of . Korais anticipates that his reader might wonder why in the course of his discussion of grammar he has used the word “philosophy” as often as he has31. There are two reasons. First, it is impossible to impart any knowledge about any art without philosophy, just as it is impossible to bring any art to perfection without it. This is all the more true of grammar, an art that is inseparable from logic and central to any useful human activity. And, lest anyone be fooled, Korais explains that this is no laughing matter, nor some abstract, vain concern. In terms reminiscent of the “Socratic paradox”, he notes that “wherever you see an ill-willed and twisted man, have no doubt that his malice is the result either of absolute lack of education, or of a poor and unmethodical one”32. Second, philosophy has finally heard Greece’s desperate cries for help, and has decided to return to its homeland, to cure its wounds, but there are Greeks who, standing on a so-called rock of religion, cast stones upon it, to prevent its entry into Greece33. It is for the sake of the country that Korais has decided to address them and convince them that they must embrace philosophy rather than reject it. His task, of course, is not an easy one. On a general level, his claim that philosophy has nowhere damaged religion was bound to strike the pious as dubious, at best. Where Greece was concerned, his plea was all the more provocative, coming from a man whose first non- medical publication was a refutation of the religious pamphlet entitled Paternal Teaching34. Nevertheless, to Korais the religious reactionaries who resist the re-entry of philosophy into Greece are pseudo-Christians. The true follower of Christ, a religion whose leader is referred to as “Sophia” and “Logos” has nothing to fear from philosophy35. Among the nations of Western Europe, one will find many philosophers who are truly philanthropic and philhellenic, and who await the rebirth of Greece with eagerness. One will also find others for whom the rebirth of Greek glory amounts to death. Whose

30. Prolegomena, 1, p. 178. Cf. Korais, Mémoire sur l’état actuel de la civilisation dans la Grèce. 31. Prolegomena, 1, p. 178. 32. Prolegomena, 1, p. 178-79. 33. Prolegomena, 1, p. 181. 34. Didaskalia Patriki., etc. (Constantinople, 1798). This work was published under the name of Patriarch Anthimos of , but it was almost certainly the product of Grigorios V. In it, the author claims that Ottoman domination was the result of divine providence for Greece, because it ensured and it protected Orthodoxy from the corrupting influence and encroachments of the Western Church. Korais responded to this document with his Adelphiki Didaskalia, etc. ([Paris]: n.p., 1798), wherein he argued that either the work was misattributed on purpose, or the Patriarch had either lost his mind or turned from shepherd of his flock to wolf. See Papadopoullos, Studies and Documents, pp. xvi, 142-46; Richard Clogg, “The ‘Dhidhaskalia Patriki’ (1798): an Orthodox Reaction to French Revolutionary Propaganda”, Middle Eastern Studies 5 (1969), p. 87-115. Cf. Kitromilides, I Galliki Epanastasi, p. 73-82, 112-13. 35. Prolegomena, 1, p. 187. 110

approval should a Greek strive for, the former or the latter36? The opposition to philosophy is thus doubly damaging to the Greek cause, because by preventing its re-establishment it postpones the country’s educational independence, and, as we have seen, for Korais educational independence is, itself, a prerequisite for freedom. “Greece’s advantage of old”, argues Korais, “was its enlightenment of others, not to be enlightened by others”. To stand up once more, the country therefore needs assistance from its own children, not from foreigners. “I call to witness”, he adds, “the whole of Greece, all those who desire her return to her ancient glory”37. Absence of philosophy broadly conceived, then, has been the main reason for Greece’s condition, and this will be the main battleground on which the struggle for its revival will be fought. At the level of philosophy itself, what is required is the opening of the playing field, for it is only possible to philosophize properly by means of several doctrines and over a long period of time38. Where grammar is concerned, this means introducing a practical, experimental philosophy as the guide on the path that many European nations have taken before Greece, nations, by the way, that the ancestors of Korais’ contemporaries had despised as barbarous39. Korais’ assessment of the problem is not surprising given the lessons that he learned in France. His description of the situation and solution, however, are tricky. Having had, initially, to negotiate his way around the religious opposition, in the end he finds himself in a difficult balancing act between the religious Scylla and the European Charybdis, for he appears to wish to limit the assistance of the foreigners, at least at the cultural level, to whatever benefit can be gained from their temporary custodianship of the Greek classics40. The services rendered by generations of classicists have been invaluable in forming the basis for a bridge between ancient and modern Greece, but it was now time for the inheritance to pass to the heirs. It should be pointed out that Korais’ position is not a vulgar xenophobic one, and that he makes the best of what is always a difficult situation. He is, of course, more fortunate than others, since there was, after all, a geographical and linguistic connection between the ancient and modern Greeks that made his case easier than most. This brings us back to the question of language. Of these two claims to patrimony, it had to be the strongest for reasons that are more or less obvious. Geographical criteria, just like religious criteria, would be too broad to be meaningful. Racial criteria would be futile. But one could argue that linguistic criteria, too, would be insufficient, since many inhabitants of Greece who would not be classified as Greek spoke the language, and many, including Korais, extended the courtesy of informal Greek nationality to philhellene foreigners. Indeed, Korais regarded a combination of language, geography, and religion as indicative of national membership, but it is clear that even in this case language holds a

36. Prolegomena, 1, p. 188. 37. Prolegomena, 1, p. 190-91. 38. Prolegomena, 1, p. 193; cf. 1:255. 39. Prolegomena, 1, p. 193. 40. Prolegomena, 1, p. 190; cf. 1, p. 402. 111

special, primary status41. There is, of course, the obvious reason that language is the medium for many of the other criteria that one might employ, but in this case the specific language itself makes a world of difference, because it enables Korais to maintain his balance between Greece and Europe. Thus, even though the regeneration of Greece depended in crucial ways upon the cultural assistance of Europe –Korais’ own work would have been impossible without the generations of classicists that preceded him42– the assistance itself was not really foreign, because the medium –the language– was Greek. To use a tired Enlightenment metaphor, this was a fire, discovered by the Greeks and preserved by the Europeans, but one from which modern Greece could once again light its torch with an easy conscience, since all it was doing was reclaiming its identity43. Considering his Hellenic Library a step in the right direction, but nevertheless insufficient for this purpose, Korais presents a series of proposals towards the establishment, dissemination, and preservation of a Hellenic identity. To return, briefly, to his metaphor of the naked man, the first of these is intended merely for cover. It is the compilation of a textbook that could be used in schools across Greece, to teach the students the proper use of their language, but also to acquaint them with their cultural heritage and show them their lineage. This textbook should be assembled with the practical philosophical principles that he had in mind, so as to serve the ignorant, young and old alike. It should include enough grammatical rules in the beginning to get students going, but should then become the kind of companion that one would turn to for leisure as well as instruction44. It should include, in no particular order: 1. certain myths of Aesop, 2. sayings from Chrysoloràs and other poets, 3. Isocrates’ exhortation to Demonicus, 4. a collection of excerpts from Xenophon and Plato, especially on Socrates, 5. the jokes of Hierocles’, 6. certain dialogues of Lucian’s, 7. 3-4 of Theophrastus’s characters, 8. Aristophanes’ Wealth, purged of its obscenities, 9. Pythagoras’s golden deeds, 10. a selection of dicta from Plutarch that could be enriched by adding from Stobaeus, 11. a few moral commands from Epictetus, 12. Cebes’ table, 13. the description of Hellenic glory contained in Herodotus’s History, between chapter 201 of book VII and chapter 100 of book VIII, 14. a few moral proverbs, along with their explanations, 15. a synopsis of Greek mythology

41. Chaconas, Adamantios Korais, p. 74-75. 42. His debt is one that he acknowledges freely and frequently. See, e.g., Prolegomena, 1, p. 251. 43. Prolegomena, 1, p. 251. Cf. Clogg, “The Classics and the Movement for Greek Independence”, 34. 44. Prolegomena, 1, p. 164-68. 112

Korais identifies two obvious omissions from this list: a synopsis of Greek history, which should be published in a separate volume, and Homer, whose work should be represented, but by how much is a question he is not prepared to address45. Strangely, he himself is unable to devote time to such an undertaking, but he urges others to consider it46. While it is likely that he had his hands full with the Hellenic Library and his various other projects, it is less clear why he did not include this first and in many ways most fundamental step among his priorities. I believe, however, that his choice not to do so tells us something about his educational project as he saw it, and to this I will return. The finer garments of Indian fabrics Korais offers in the remaining “Reflections”, which accompanied his editions of Isocrates and Plutarch. There, he discusses the importance of rhetoric, which he considers a counterpart to grammar, before he delves into a series of more sophisticated steps that would be necessary in order to cement the identity of the nation. In some ways these flow naturally from his interests and setting, but they are nevertheless remarkable. The first of these steps concerns the preservation of manuscripts. One would expect as much from a classicist, but what makes his proposal unusual is the fact that he addresses it to the Patriarchate, and calls upon the leadership of the Church to embrace this cause fully. His list of specific suggestions to that end includes the designation of a place that will serve as repository for these manuscripts, a space to be called “ELLINIKON MOUSEION” [Hellenic Museum], and which, in addition, will house coins, urns, pillars, inscriptions, and any other remnant of Hellenic art or history that might be discovered47. This was a timely and urgent suggestion, coming as it did at the height of the pillaging of Attic antiquities by Lord Elgin, and it may sound less impressive today than when he made it, but a proper assessment of its significance should take into account the state of the audience to which he made it, as well as the fact that the British Museum, for example, was, at the time, just over fifty years old. His own city, the envy of civilized Europe, had only had a public art gallery since 1750, and the Louvre had opened its doors to the public a mere fourteen years before Korais’ recommendations48. The second large step that needs to be taken is the compilation of a dictionary of the Greek language. The absence of a satisfactory dictionary is one of the reasons why there is confusion about the proper signification of terms. Thus, things that have names are treated as though they did not, and quite often the result is that they end up being referred to by foreign words49. More importantly, however, a proper list of terms and their meanings will enable users of the dictionary to learn Ancient Greek. For Korais, the

45. Prolegomena, 1, p. 168-73. 46. Prolegomena, 1, p. 165. 47. Prolegomena, 1, p. 256-62. 48. The British Museum was founded in 1753. On the Louvre, see Andrew McClellan, Inventing the Louvre: Art, Politics, and the Origins of the Modern Museum in Eighteenth-Century Paris (Cambridge, 1994), esp. p. 60, 91-92. 49. Prolegomena, 1, 409-85, 495-525. 113

factors that prevented the proper dissemination of the ancestral language to his countrymen are the source of “the race’s misfortunes, and the reason why many of the nation’s powerful men, being uneducated, do not take care to put an end to them”50. Throughout his “Reflections”, but also in other writings, Korais engages in juxtaposition of ancient and modern terms, so as to show how the language has evolved, but also that the modern version is nevertheless firmly implanted in the ancient51. Korais proposes other measures as well, such as that existing libraries be filled with as many books as possible, that new ones be opened52, and that collections of proverbs and other sayings be compiled to supplement the material amassed in the dictionary. Perhaps the most important institutional recommendation that emerges from the “Reflections”, however, is that schools across the country be made uniform and that they conform to a universal standard53. 

In his autobiography, Korais notes that the momentous events which he witnessed upon his arrival in Paris and during the first few years of his stay there impressed upon him the necessary and inextricable link between education and liberty54. His “Reflections” reveal his consistent attachment to this principle as the starting point from which his various contributions to the national cause must commence. In this sense, he is a genuine child of his age, and yet at the same time his case is also a peculiar one. As a man of letters living in Paris at the end of the eighteenth century, Korais would have been bombarded with the notion that the French Revolution was the product of the , and that the liberation of the French nation would not be complete without its education55. Beyond the pamphlets and essays, however, the actions of the revolutionaries, in their efforts to forge a French national identity under the new regime, would have reinforced that message. In a letter to Lotos, for example, Korais gives “one of the fullest descriptions” available of the transfer of ’s remains to the Pantheon56, the first of a series of such interments aimed at celebrating the alleged intellectual fathers of the

50. Prolegomena, 1, 502. 51. See, e.g., his example of “nostimon imar”, Prolegomena, 1, p. 162-63. 52. Prolegomena, 1, p. 402-08. 53. Prolegomena, 1, p. 401-02. 54. Vios, p. xxiv-xxv. See Adamantios Korais, Lettres de Coray au Protopsalte de Smyrne Dimitrios Lotos, sur les événements de la révolution française (1782-1793), edited by the Marquis de Queux de Saint- Hilaire (Paris, 1880). Kitromilides argues that Korais’ letters conveying his impressions of the French Revolution, along with those of Konstantinos Stamatis, “constitute the most significant Balkan contribution to the debate on the French Revolution taking place throughout Europe” (I Galliki Epanastasi, p. 64). 55. See, e.g., Emmanuel Joseph Sieyès, “Views of the Executive Means Available to the Representatives of France in 1789” in Political Writings, ed. Michael Sonenscher (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2003), p. 51-52. 56. Allilographia, Ι, letter 54 (15 November 1791), pp.191-206; cf. Kitromilides, I Galliki Epanastasi, 97- 110; “‘Témoin oculaire de choses terribles’: Adamantios Koraïs, observateur de la Révolution Française”, Dix-huitième siecle 39 (2007), p. 269-83. 114

Revolution, and which resulted in the paradoxical coexistence of Arouet and Rousseau, side-by-side, for eternity57. Organized attempts at the creation of continuity with the past are an inescapable part of nationalism, and, for all their similarities, different manifestations bring with them peculiarities that render the study of the evolution of that phenomenon as interesting and perplexing as it is. Obviously, the character of the nation under construction determines the flavor that an attempt to connect it to the past will take. Thus, for example, militaristic, aggressive nationalist regimes will most likely focus on some aspect of a glorious martial past. It is not surprising, therefore, that leading figures of the Enlightenment across Europe, who described their project as a political transformation originating in the intellect, would turn to the ancient world for inspiration. As their various goals included emancipation –through reason– from tyrannical regimes and oppressive clergymen, the secular political ideals of the ancients became an appealing point of reference. The universalistic principles of the Enlightenment thinkers, however, also contained the seeds of a political paradox. While reason freed the individual from the yoke of tyranny and exposed him to the possibilities of the brotherhood of man, the demolition of the Old Regime had to be followed by the construction of a new political order, itself as local and confined as the one that had preceded it. Seen in the context of this constant interplay between the particular and the universal, the various references to the ancient world in Germany, France, and England seem somewhat strange and out of place. A sign of the genius of Korais the leader is his realization, from early on, that it was important that Greece reclaim its share of this heritage. What in other cases seemed a somewhat peculiar intellectual, if antiquarian, interest, in the case of Modern Greece was a simultaneous commitment to the universal principles that best encapsulated the move from oppression to freedom, from the old world to the new, but also a return to her roots, her point of departure. It is easy to dismiss Korais as a sympathetic if somewhat naïve intellectual, reluctant to become embroiled in the dirty business of national liberation. Such a dismissal, however, does him an injustice, because it overlooks his realist side. His willingness to gamble on a project like the Hellenic Library and persevere is the first sign of that side. The decision to move away from cutting edge work on the ancients and focus instead on popular editions for a Greek audience must have been painful and costly to Korais the classicist. Yet, it was one that he showed no signs of having regretted, even though it cost him the scholarly recognition that he might have otherwise secured among European classicists, as well as the broader recognition and gratitude that he was to receive later, from generations of Greeks to come. Korais’ reluctance to take on the relatively simple project of the textbook that he proposed for the education of the nation corroborates this interpretation. Quite frequently, he cites his poor health to explain various postponements and changes of plan, as well as why he cannot afford to take on this project, simple though it may be; his “Reflections”

57. See Bronislaw Baczko, “Enlightenment” in A Critical Dictionary of the French Revolution, ed. François Furet & Mona Ozouf, translated by Arthur Goldhammer, 659-68 (Cambridge, MA, 1989). 115

are sprinkled with statements of purpose reminding his readers that he must persist and finish what he started58. One might argue that given the educational and linguistic debates that Korais was engaged in at the time, the textbook might have been a better investment of his time than the editions of the ancients. Hypotheses of this kind are pointless, however, and, in any case, it seems that Korais’ work has had an effect on Greek national identity that no textbook, however successful, could match. Besides, the Hellenic Library contains the material that would make not only that textbook, but many others besides, possible. None of this explains, however, why he accorded the editions of the ancients the importance that he did. The explanation of his choice lies, I think, in political considerations, and once again we must resist the temptation to think of the scholar as naïve. True, Korais was one of those who harbored hopes of a Napoleonic liberation of Greece, but he was quite realistic when it came to assessing the state of the Greek nation. It was clear to him that the chaos which characterized the realm of ideas and education at the dawn of the nineteenth century was only one of many signs of weakness. But even under the best of circumstances, what kind of status and influence could Greece hope for upon liberation? It was clear, then, that no advantage, however small, could be wasted, and that this most precious source of attention for Greece, its ties to its forebears, should be seized upon and cultivated with every diligence. To those who might counter that he had no choice in the matter, one has only to point to the alternative, represented by Capodistrias: pursuing the protection of and affiliation with Russia, on grounds of religious affinity59. By opting for the ancients over the Byzantines, Korais made a wise choice in more ways than one. After the start of the Greek Revolution, when anxious to use all his powers to the advantage of Greece, he wrote to the octogenarian for advice on statecraft, the latter responded with a kind letter encapsulating his wisdom from decades of experience in the other great experiment of the age60. Clearly moved by his classical education and humanist roots, Jefferson concluded his letter as follows:

I have thus, dear sir, according to your request, given you some thoughts, on the subject of national government. they are the result of the observations and reflections of an Octogenary who has past fifty years of trial and trouble in the various grades of his country’s service. they are but the outlines which you will better fill up, and accomodate to the habits and

58. See, e.g., Prolegomena, 1, p. 368-69. 59. Indeed, such a path may well have proven easier. As Clogg points out, during the period of Ottoman occupation, “[t]he thought world of the great mass of unlettered Greeks reflected memories at a popular level of the great Christian Empire of Byzantium rather than of pagan antiquity” (“The Classics and the Movement for Greek Independence”, 43). 60. Korais to Jefferson, 10 July 1823; Jefferson to Korais, 31 October 1823. On their correspondence, see Ioannis D. Evrigenis, “A Founder on Founding: Jefferson’s Advice to Koraes”, The Historical Review I (2004), p. 157-81. 116

circumstances of your countryme n. should they furnish a single idea which may be useful to them, I shall fancy it a tribute rendered to the Manes of your Homer, your Demosthenes, and the splendid constellation of Sages and Heroes, whose blood is still flowing in your veins, and whose merits are still resting, as a heavy debt, on the shoulders of the living and the future races of men. While we offer to heaven the warmest supplications for the restoration of your countrymen to the freedom and of their ancestors, permit me to assure yourself of the cordial esteem and high respect which I bear and cherish towards yourself personally. Th. Jefferson61

Korais’ project is largely responsible for the extent to which Jefferson’s association of Ancient with Modern Greece seems better founded than Locke’s. As Jefferson predicted in his letter, Korais’ countrymen would come to see him as the intellectual father of the nation, and the classics would come to occupy a central, if peculiar, role in the identity of modern Greece62. Currency tends to encapsulate nationalism in ways that nothing else can, and in this sense it is fitting that following decades of depictions of deities, heroes, and artifacts from Ancient Greece on the various paper bills, in 1978, Adamantios Korais replaced Democritus on the one side of the one hundred Drachma bill. On the other side, behind him, was the goddess of wisdom, Athena.

61. Thomas Jefferson, Letter to Adamantios Coray, 31 October 1823, The Thomas Jefferson Papers, http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/collections/jefferson_papers/. 62. For discussions of that role, see Ioannis Sykoutris, Emeis kai oi Archaioi (Athens, 2006), esp. p. 9-79; Peter Bien, “The Anxiety of Influence in Greek and English Poetry”, in Ancient Greek Myth in Modern Greek Poetry: Essays in Memory of C.A. Trypanis, edited by Peter Mackridge (London, 1996), pp. 161-72; Clogg, “The Classics and the Movement for Greek Independence”, 44; Paschalis M. Kitromilides, “From Subservience to Ambivalence: Greek Attitudes toward the Classics in the Twentieth Century”, in The Impact of Classical Greece on European and National Identities, edited by Margriet Haagsma, Pim den Boer, & Eric M. Moormann, p. 47-54. 117