Gaius Musonius Rufus, Discourse 9: That Exile Is Not An Evil
Attila Németh
[Penultimate draft. Final version is in The Brill Companion to Musonius Rufus, eds. Gloyn, L. & Sellars,
J. Please cite that version.]
The ninth discourse, which discusses the popular theme of exile, starts with Musonius consoling an
émigré he had just heard complain about having to live in banishment. Although the dialogic
character of this discourse is similar to other spoken discourses in the collection,1 it has been
suggested that the main text may stem from a letter written by Musonius himself to a friend living
in exile, since certain epistolary formulae used to address a single individual rather than a general
audience remain unaltered in it – for example, “but tell me, my friend” (σὺ δ᾽εἰπέ μοι, ὦ ἑταῖρε, 9.106),
“I would like to repeat it to you” (πρὸς σὲ εἴποιμι ἄν, 9.119), “I say them to you now” (πρὸς σὲ λέγω νῦν,
9.133).2 If this is correct, then we may read Discourse 9 as an instance of thought and argumentation
by Musonius addressed more directly to a certain individual. It may also in effect preserve the gist
of one of his written letters, raising the possibility that some of the other lectures may also derive
from a similar written source.3 Nonetheless, at 9.110-11, Musonius also positions himself as an exile
addressing another exile (ἀλλ’ ἐγώ σοι οὐ δοκῶ εἶναι φυγάς;), a man who has never seen him
1
Cf. also the beginnings of Socratic conversations in Xenophon’s Memorabila.
2
Lutz 1947: 5, n. 8. For an address to a larger circle of audience see for example Discourse 18a.60-1: “The words spoken on
that occasion concerning food and nourishment seemed to us rather unlike what he [Musonius] was generally
accustomed to say. (Ταῦτα μὲν τότε καινότερα ἔδοξεν ἡμῖν εἰπεῖν περὶ τροφῆς, ὧν εἰώθει λέγειν ἑκάστοτε.)”
3
For the unfounded legend of Musonius’ γράμματα cf. (1) Eunapius’ Lives of Philosophers and Sophists 454, where
Eunapius mentions Musonius as a member of the Cynic school along with such contemporaries as Menippus and
Demetrius, and attributes writings of their own to them as well. Demetrius was a regular company of Seneca the Younger
(cf. Ep. 62.3) and in 70 CE he controversially defended Egnatius Celer, who was actually prosecuted by Musonius (cf. Tac.
Ann. IV. 10, 40, and Desmond 2008: 51). See also Inwood 2017, who questions Musonius’ Stoicism and speculates about
his real philosophical loyalties, with Van Geytenbeek 1963: 4-5 and 158-63; contra see Harriman 2020 and Reydams-Schils
in this volume. Cf. also (2) Philostartus’ Life of Apollonius of Tyana in IV. 46, recording a correspondence between
Musonius and Apollonius, while Rufus was in Nero’s prison, with the help of Menippus and a certain Damis; and (3) the
Suda sv. Μουσόνιος (mu, 1305 Adler), which speaks of λόγοι διάφοροι φιλοσοφίας ἐχόμενοι, καὶ ἐπιστολαί. Also see the letter
written to Pancratides, which is considered spurious.
1
complaining or disheartened because of his banishment (ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲ μὰ Δία λυπούμενον ἢ ἀθυμοῦντα
διὰ τὴν φυγὴν φαίης ἂν ἑωρακέναι με, 9.115-6). This suggests that Lucius, the pupil who collected
together the texts that form our Corpus Musonianum, may have been a direct witness to Musonius’
teaching during his banishment from Rome.4 If that was the case, and Lucius was exiled together
with Musonius or accompanied him into exile, it would weaken the hypothesis that Discourse 9
derives from the written text of a letter.
We do not know if and under which of Rufus’ many exiles this discourse may have been
composed. In his first exile, he voluntarily followed Rubellius Plautus – the son of Tiberius’
granddaughter, and hence a member of the royal family and a potential political rival to Nero – into
exile to his Asian estate in 60 CE,5 returning to Rome only after the emperor ordered Plautus’
execution in 62. Musonius was then associated with a group of Stoics (also known as the Stoic
Senatorial opposition), who criticized Nero’s tyranny and autocratic rule.6 In 65 CE, he was charged
with taking part in the Pisonian conspiracy and consequently relegated to the remote island of Gyara
in the Aegean sea, a place that became synonymous with exile in the period (cf. Epictetus Diss.
2.6.22).7 There he formed a small community of philosophers, proving that a real philosopher can
thrive under any circumstances (cf. Discourse 9.1-5). Musonius returned to Rome again under Galba
in 68 CE, and when Vespasian, the next emperor, banished philosophers from Rome in 71 CE, he was
still allowed to stay (Dio 66.13.2). It was perhaps during this period that he taught Epictetus.
Eventually, however, around 75 CE, he was also exiled again; he could return to Rome only after
Vespasian’s death in 79.
This brief history of Musonius’ rich experience of exile clearly illustrates some of the possible
connotations of the ancient terms for exile (φυγή, fuga, exilium). It shows that just like their
4
Lutz 1947: 8-9 speculates that Lucius must have suffered his master’s fate of exile as well; for Lucius as composer or
writer of Musonius’ Greek texts, see Geytenbeek 1963: 9-12. For direct proof of the reported nature of our evidence see
for example, Discourse 18a.4-5: “Once, putting aside other customary themes he habitually discussed, he spoke
somewhat as follows. (ἅπαξ δέ ποτε τῶν ἄλλων ἀφέμενος λόγων, οὓς ἑκάστοτε διεξῄει, τοιάδε τινὰ εἶπεν·).”
5
Cf. Seneca’s Ep. 9.10: “‘Why make a friend?’ To have someone I can die for, someone I can accompany into exile,
someone whose life I can save, even by laying down my own.”
6
Griffin 1984: 171-7 for the philosophic resistance to Nero.
7
Nero, when in a good mood, found Gyara too harsh and uncultivated for a criminal: cf. Tac. Ann. III. 69; also cf. Courtney
1980.
2
corresponding modern terms, these words have a broader range of meaning than that of an
involuntary departure from one’s own country motivated by political or juridical considerations.
The ancient concepts imply almost any act of withdrawal or flight, and consequently they may
indicate a voluntary exile, a flight from proscription, relegatio (a legal device used in the imperial
period to remove troublesome foreigners from Rome, but rarely used against Romans), expulsion or
even military service and travel.8 That it is in Discourse 9 involuntary exile which Musonius is
discussing becomes immediately clear from the consolatory tone at the beginning of his treatise,
and from his arguments against exile being something fearful.9
By Musonius’ time, both in the long tradition in the Greek literary history of exilic figures like
Alcaeus, Thucydides or Diogenes the Cynic, and in the considerable body of Roman writing on the
subject, most notably by Cicero, Ovid and Seneca, the language of exile had become, among other
things, a means to explore issues of cultural identity or self-positioning.10 Musonius, his pupil Cassius
Dio, and subsequently Dio’s pupil Favorinus all contributed to this extensive consolatory literature
of exile, and their writings, which come down to us in Greek, have been viewed as expressions of a
conscious intention to establish themselves as part of the broader Greek literary tradition.11 We shall
see how Musonius, in particular, redefined the language of cultural self-exposition by highlighting
the relationship between his own self and Rome. He used the trope of exile as the removal of the
speaking voice from the centre of power, and turned it into an image for the process that enables
and leads to the genesis of the sage (cf. Diog. Laert. 6.49 and Musonius 9.35-8).
Musonius, Dio and Favorinus were also deeply influenced by the Cynic tradition, from which our
earliest evidence for a discourse on exile comes by Teles (3rd cent. BCE).12 Teles’ treatise has a
‘question and answer’ structure and addresses a variety of issues that the author downplays one by
8
Kelly 2006: 5 and n. 10 esp.
9
The verb παραμυθήσασθαι (9.1-2) immediately positions Musonius’ ninth discourse in the consolatory literature on exile,
from the Cynic Teles to the Platonist Plutarch.
10
On the Greek tradition see Doblhofer 1987: 21-49, André and Baslez 1993: 283-97; for the Roman authors cf. Claassen
1996 and 1999, Edwards 1996 and Williams 1995.
11
Whitmarsh 2001 (a): 271.
12
Teles’ treatises are known to us through the antique anthology of Stobaeus; cf. Hense 1909 and Fuentes González 1998.
His discourse on exile seems to have been influenced by earlier Cynic exiles, cf. Diogenes of Sinope (Diog. Laert. 6.21 and
49); Crates (Diog. Laert. 6.93); and Stilpo, whose views are mediated in Teles fr. 3 Hense = Stob. Flor. 3.40.8.
3
one: the loss of political power at home and the lack of any such power abroad, restrictions on travels
and freedom of speech (παρρησία), being unfortunate and dishonoured in and by one’s native land
(especially if one is banished by morally inferior people), becoming a μέτοικος or foreigner and
having to be buried abroad. Many but not all these topics reappear in Musonius’ Discourse 9.13
The yardstick of Musonius’ consolation is the reasonable person; or, in his first, rather bald
formulation, “the person who is not unintelligent” (τις μὴ ἀνόητος, 9.2). Why should exile distress any
intelligent person? It does not deprive us of the four elements of the natural world – water, earth, air
and fire, which is represented here by the sun and the other stars – nor of human companionship
(ἀνθρώπων ὁμιλίας, 9.4). If we had not enjoyed the whole earth, or come to contact with all men while
at home – because we could not have –, why should it be so terrible now in exile to be deprived of
some part of the land and certain people? Even in exile we may associate with our true and
worthwhile friends, an idea reflecting Musonius’ first voluntary exile with Plautus in 60 CE, as well
as perhaps that of Lucius’ devotion and accompaniment. He adds that banishment also has the
benefit of dissociating oneself from insincere and annoying companions.
The polemic continues with a rhetorical question that places the query into a larger context. This
stylistic device is typical of philosophical discourses in the period: was Socrates not accustomed to
say that the cosmos is the common fatherland of all human beings?14 If that is correct – at least if you
take yourself to be a decent person (ἐπιεικής; 9.16) – you ought not think of yourself as being deprived
of your fatherland, but only of a limited part of it: the particular polis to which you by chance
belonged. Indeed, a decent person (or the philosopher) does not identify himself with the polis –
says Musonius – but with the cosmos. He would not think of a piece of land as the cause of his
happiness or misfortune because he is self-sufficient and, therefore, conceives himself to be a citizen
13
However, not as unoriginally as Nesselrath claims (Nesselrath 2007, p. 91). Musonius does have more to offer than
simply his “conciseness in style”: for example, while Teles invokes and refutes the words of the dying Polynices in
Euripides’ Phoenissae, Musonius addresses a different complaint by Polynices concerning παρρησία, arguing Euripides
instead of simply reflecting on Polynices’ words. For earlier complaints on Musonius’ unoriginality cf. Giesecke 1891, p.
25, van Geytenbeek 1963, p. 151, Doblhofer 1987, p. 41.
14
Cf. Cic. Tusc. V. 108: “Socrates quidem cum rogaretur, cuiatem se esse diceret, ‘mundanum’ inquit; ‘totius enim mundi
se incolam et civem arbitrabatur’.” Also cf. Epict. Diss. 1.9: οὐχὶ κοινὴ πατρὶς ἀνθρώπων ἁπάντων ὁ κόσμος ἐστίν,
ὥσπερ ἠξίου Σωκράτης; and Plut. De exil. 600F-6001A.
4
of Zeus’ polis of men and gods (καὶ νομίζει εἶναι πολίτης τῆς Διὸς πόλεως, ἢ συνέστηκεν ἐξ ἀνθρώπων καὶ
θεῶν, 9.18-9).15
Crediting Socrates with the idea of cosmopolitanism was more likely a projection by those
philosophers of the imperial period who wished to be seen as his cosmopolitan heirs.16 Although
some early Greek thinkers (Anaxagoras, Diog. Laert. 2.7, and Democritus DK 247) made some
universal claims concerning their fatherland, and certain Sophists (Antiphon DK 87 B 44; Hippias
apud Pl., Prt. 337c7-d3) arguably arrived at some cosmopolitan conclusions based on their
distinction between nature and convention, the general political culture in the classical era was not
cosmopolitan. For Plato and Aristotle social identity was created and articulated by identifying
oneself with a particular city-state, and by indicating a clear allegiance with the people of that
specific polis. One was not required to attend to the needs of foreigners who lived outside the polis
unless they were residing as guests or metics in the city. Thus, the idea that all human beings,
irrespective of their political affiliations, have a common fatherland, the cosmic city shared with the
gods that should be cultivated had not been clearly formulated yet.
It is the Cynic Diogenes, who is first said to have called himself explicitly a cosmopolitan.17 His
cosmopolitanism has nonetheless been described as a negative claim, because he was not only
defying his obligations to Sinope or to her citizens,18 but as an anarchist he defined himself in
opposition to all social traditions and established authorities, consequently becoming an individual
citizen of the cosmos.19 Some think that had Diogenes only wished to make the sort of negative
statement that his position implies,20 it could have been more easily expressed by the already
15
For the definition cf. SVF 2. 527, 11-4 and SVF 2. 528, 26-8; for discussion see pp. 7-8 below and n. 27.
16
Cf. Brown 2000: 74. According to the Epicurean Philodemus (1st. cent. BCE) the Stoics actually wanted to be called
‘Socratics’ (De Stoicis cols. 12-3); see Long 1988 for Socrates in Hellenistic philosophy. Brown 2000 gives a thorough
consideration of Socrates’ cosmopolitanism, which – as Brown admits (Brown 2006: 551) – implies some “heavy
interpretation of Socrates’ message”. For the speculation that the foundations of Cynic cosmopolitanism may have been
worked out in the Socratic circle, cf. Sellars 2007: 4, n. 18. For the problems of neat Cynic genealogies going back to
Socrates cf. Dudley 1937: 26-7 and Desmond 2008: 15-6.
17
“Asked where he came from, he replied, ‘I’m a citizen of the world (κοσμοπολίτης)’” Diog. Laert. 6.63.
18
Cf. for example Schofield 1991: 144 and Brown 2002.
19
Desmond 2008: 185.
20
This negative claim often attributed to him based on Diog. Laert. 6.38; cf. for example Schofield 1999: 144 or Overwien
2005: 333.
5
available term ἄπολις or ‘without a city’, without having to coin a new word.21 But Diogenes did, in
fact, have a city, the cosmos (cf. Diog. Laert. 6.72): it is therefore likely that he also wished to send a
positive message by his cosmopolitanism, indicating that happiness is attainable through being a
self-sufficient individual citizen of the cosmos by aligning oneself with its natural laws, rather than
with the conventional legislation of any man-made conventional city.22 Thus, Diogenes wandered
with his πήρα or travelling bag, feeling truly home anywhere – including cities – while being strictly
indifferent to all externals and placing all value in his intrinsic disposition: virtue (ἀρετή). This selfsufficiency or independence (αὐτάρκεια) of the Cynic is what Musonius playfully echoes when he
turns the notion of such an individual cosmopolitanism inside out. A reasonable person, he says,
literally “places the whole in himself” (αὐτὸς δὲ ἐν αὑτῷ τίθεται τὸ πᾶν; 9.18), absorbing the whole
universe into himself.23 He is not autachically alone in the cosmos; rather the cosmos is complete
within him. But Diogenes’ idea still seems to lack the picture of a cosmic city that people share with
the gods: his individual cosmopolitanism expresses a self-sufficiency (αὐτάρκεια) that rejects any
dependence on externals – or other humans – and is directed towards the cultivation of a personal
happiness, without being concerned with the unity of all humankind.24
The next figure who held up cosmopolitanism is Zeno of Citium, the founding father of Stoicism.
According to a recent interpretation of his Republic, Zeno seems to have formulated a similar,
individual notion of cosmopolitanism under the Cynic Crates’ influence, who was Diogenes’ pupil.25
21
Cf. for example Sellars 2007: 4; Desmond 2008: 202-3.
22
Ringing a bell of the Sophists’ φύσις vs. νομός debate; cf. Sellars 2007: 5-6.
23
Cf. Democritus’ idea of man being a microcosmos DK 34. For the Cynic Crates’ πήρα see Diog. Laert. 6.85 and 6.89 for
his cosmopolitanism.
24
Nevertheless, Diogenes is said to have held both that all things belong to the wise because of their friendship with the
gods, and that the only true citizenship is the one that belongs to the cosmos (μόνην τε ὀρθὴν πολιτείαν εἶναι τὴν ἐν κόσμῳ,
Diog. Laert. 6.72). These two claims, if combined, amount to a similar claim, but are not yet explicitly connected. Cf. also
Schofield 1991: 141-5. Furthermore, Diog. Laert. 6.105 reports that the Cynics held that the wise man is a friend to the man
who is like him (Crates said that he is “a citizen of Diogenes”: Διογένους εἶναι πολίτης; Diog. Laert. 6.93), but they also felt
in close proximity to animals (Diog. Laert. 6.22) as their name indicates as well (κύων means ‘dog’), cf. Husson 2013.
25
Cf. Sellars 2007: 12-6 for projecting Moles’ three-stage account of Cynic politics onto Zeno’s Republic (Moles 1995). Also
cf. Diog. Laert. 7.4: “For a time he studied with Crates; and when, at that period, he had written his Republic, some said
in jest that he had written it on the tail of the dog (ἐπὶ τῆς τοῦ κυνὸς οὐρᾶς )” – i.e. under Crates’ mentorship. Zeno’s
Republic contained many Cynic ideas that would explain the outrage his work caused in antiquity: see for example Cic.
6
In Zeno’s Republic, happiness (εὐδαιμονία) depends on one’s self-sufficiency (αὐτάρκεια), unanimity
(ὁμόνοια) and harmony (ὁμολογία) with nature. Zeno, therefore, may have explored his utopian idea
of a state not so much under the influence of Plato’s Republic, but as a hypothesis that abolishes
hierarchical government. In the future, after everybody will have become a sage, all human beings
will be guided by their perfectly rational mental dispositions in agreement with their individual and
cosmic nature, and since in such an ideal world their actions would be completely just on the
strength of them being in harmony with the right reason that pervades the whole world, they will be
free of any social conventions – laws, temples, money etc. (cf. Plut. Alex. fort. 329a-b = SVF 1.262 = LS
67A).
Zeno’s anarchist utopia was arguably endorsed by Chrysippus,26 the third head of the Stoa, but
the evidence for this view appears to be in direct tension with some other sources which attribute
to Chrysippus the conception echoed by Musonius in 9.18-9, according to which the cosmos is a city
that is ordered by right reason and is a σύστημα of gods and men.27 This latter idea of a cosmic city,
however, is not merely, like Zeno’s, a hypothetical ideal but rather encompasses all humankind and
the gods in reality, based on their shared rationality and united by the divine laws that administrate
their cosmic city.28
This novel aspect of cosmopolitanism seems to have been further developed by Panaetius, a later
Stoic, towards the idea of universal moral obligation. In Cicero’s version (Off. 3.27-8) nature
prescribes that a man should promote the good of another man for the very reason that he is a man.29
Leaving aside this characteristic of cosmopolitanism prominent in our Roman sources, Musonius
Off. 1.128; Phld. Stoic. 11.9-13, 14.22-7 Dorandi; Sext. Emp. Math. 11-190-4; Diog. Laert. 7.187-8. For this influence supposedly
going back to Antisthenes see Diog. Laert. 6.15.
26
Cf. Baldry 1965: 165; Schofield 1991/1999: 26 and Sellars 2007: 18.
27
Cf. Stob. Ecl. I. 184, 8 W = SVF 2. 527, 11-4 for the attributing the idea of the cosmos being a σύστημα of heaven and earth
and the natures therein, or the σύστημα of gods and men and the things which are born of them, to Chrysippus. Diog.
Laert. 7.138 attributes this formulation to a later Stoic, Posidonius; also cf. Euseb. Praep. evang. XV 15, 817, 6 = SVF 2. 528,
26-8, Arius Didymus, for the Stoic idea of the cosmos as a city compounded (συνεστῶσα) of men and gods.
28
For divine law in early Stoicism cf. Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus, SVF 1.537 = LS 54I; see also Thom 2005; for Chrysippus
Just. Digest. 1.3.2 = SVF 3.314 = LS 67R, on which most recently Brouwer 2021: 164-5.
29
Also cf. Cic. Leg. 1.23, N. D. 2.154, Rep. 1.19 and Fin. 3.64 or Sen. Ot. 4.1; and see Nussbaum 1997. See Sellars 2007 for
arguing the point that this supposedly later political development is not, in fact, as distant from Zeno’s ideas as it is often
taken to be.
7
seems to present a condensed historical development of cosmopolitanism, with Socratic, Cynic and
Chrysippean strands, which he backs up by quoting Euripides to make the Socratic attribution of
the idea resonate throughout the entire chapter:
“As all the heavens are open to the eagle’s flight,
So all the earth is for a noble man his fatherland.” (9.21-22)30
Next, Musonius continues with a comparative example: “as indeed” (ὥσπερ οὖν, 9.23) it would be
foolish and ridiculous for a man who lives in his fatherland to complain about having to live in a
different house from the one where he was born, so it is unreasonable and foolish (ἄφρων καὶ ἀνόητος,
9.26-7) to consider having to live abroad to be a misfortune (συμφορὰν ἡγεῖται, 9.26). Although
Musonius’ arguments are for the most cases clear, his smooth rhetorical change here makes it
uncertain how to divide his polemic. We may read this comparison as the conclusion of his previous
argument for cosmopolitanism,31 or we could also take it as the introduction to his next point.32 In
what comes next, “[a]nd certainly” (καὶ μὴν, 9.27) seems to amplify that it is foolish to think of exile
as a disaster (συμφορά, 9.26) – an echo of the title of Discourse 9 –, since how could exile preclude
someone from caring for his real needs and from acquiring virtue – asks Musonius? Exile does not
hinder anyone from learning what is needed (μάθησις, 9.29), and act accordingly (ἄσκησις, 9.29),
especially since it provides leisure and more opportunity. Exiles have no political roles to play, and
they are not bothered by false friends; they therefore have more time on their hands to improve
themselves. Exile transformed the Cynic Diogenes from an idle citizen (ἰδιώτης, 9.36) of Sinope to a
30
ἅπας μὲν ἀὴρ ἀετῷ περάσιμος, / ἅπασα δὲ χθὼν ἀνδρὶ γενναίῳ πατρίς. Eur. fr. 1047 N2, translation from Lutz 1947: 69. Cf.
Ov. Fast. 1.493-4.
31
As Lutz (1947: 69) does, and consequently translates ὥσπερ οὖν (9.23) as “therefore”, followed by Stephens 2018: 13, who
divides Discourse 9 into ten arguments. Musonius’ arguments, nevertheless, do not always lend themselves to an easy
and straightforward formalization, which carries the danger of omitting certain relevant aspects, as for example
Stephens does on p. 13, when he cleanses Musionius’ normative claim (ὥστ’ οὐδὲ φεύγειν τῇ γε ἀληθείᾳ τὴν
πατρίδα νομιστέον, 9.13-4) of its normativity based on unreflective acceptance of Musonius’ attribution of
cosmopolitanism to Socrates.
32
As Cynthia King does in her translation, King 2011: 44-5.
8
philosopher.33 Instead of sitting around in one place, he spent his time in Greece (which is perhaps
meant as an allegory for the cosmic city here34) and excelled other philosophers by exercising
whatever leads to virtue (ἀσκήσει δὲ τῇ πρὸς ἀρετὴν, 9.38). To others exile has been a source of
strength (ἔρρωσεν ἡ φυγή).35 The Lacedaemonian Spartiaticus, who had suffered ill health from high
living, recovered his vigour,36 just as those who were driven to bed by gout, having been forced to
live a more manly lifestyle (ἀνδρικώτερον, 9.40), often have had their health restored. Therefore, as it
appears to Musonius, exile is even stronger than the self-control people have over themselves; it
improves both their bodily and mental dispositions (οὕτως ἄρα τῷ διακεῖσθαι κεῖττον αὐτοὺς ἑαυτων
καὶ σῶμα καὶ ψυχὴν συνεργεῖ μᾶλλον ἢ ἀντιπράττει ἡ φυγή, 9.48-50). Exile thus becomes a catalyst for
a philosophical coming of age and the transition to full manhood.37
Furthermore, exiles lack nothing essential. Those who are lazy and unable to act like men (οὐχ
οἷοί τε ἀνδρίζεσθαι, 9.52-3) are without resources even at home, but the truly noble, hard-working and
intelligent men flourish anywhere they go. Note that Musonius immediately, having said this,
switches to the first-person plural, thus numbering himself and his reader in the latter group:
“[i]ndeed, we do not need many things, unless we wish to live luxuriously (καὶ γὰρ οὐδε δεόμεθα
πολλῶν, ἂν μὴ βουλώμεθα τρυφᾶν·):
Since what do mortals need except two things only,
Demeter’s grain and Aquarius’ drink,
Things which are at hand and which exist to nourish us?” (9.55-9)38
33
Cf. Plut. de cap. ex inim. ut. 87A; and Diog. Laert. 49.
34
Cf. Philostr. V A 1.34: “You do not realize that everything is Greece to a wise man”; and Whitmarsh 2001 (b).
35
The verb ῥώννυμι invokes the popular ancient Greek pun between the homonyms ῥώμη = strength and Ῥώμη = Rome,
which has been understood as an allegory – Rome is not the real centre of (political) power, but it is distance from Rome
that generates the sovereignty of the cosmopolitan philosopher: cf. Whitmarsh 2001 (a): 149.
36
For Spartiacus, see Kennell 2010: 183-90.
37
As Whitmarsh 2001 (a): 147 points out, exile for Musonius is a voyage initiatique similar to that of Greek literary heroes
like Jason, Telemachus, Perseus and Orestes.
38
ἐπεὶ τί δεῖ βροτοῖσι πλὴν δυοῖν μόνον, / Δήμητρος ἀκτῆς πώματός θ' ὑδρηχόου, / ἅπερ πάρεστι καὶ πέφυχ᾽ἡμας τρέφειν; Eur.
fr. 892 N2, translation from King 2011: 46.
9
Musonius here verbally echoes a text of the Cynic Teles, who in his On Circumstances, 53.5-6 says:
“[f]or these things [scil. certain previously mentioned austere means of life] suffice for living calmly
and in good health, unless one wants to live in luxury” (ἀρκεῖ γὰρ ταῦτα καὶ εἰς τὸ προσηνῶς καὶ εἰς τὸ
ὑγιεινῶς, ἐὰν μή τις τρυφᾶν βούληται·).39 And just like Teles, Musonius demonstrates his own point by
quoting Euripides again – who was incidentally Chrysippus’ favourite tragedian – to back up his
point (though using different lines than Teles did).
Are we to take these similarities as signs of unoriginality?40 Teles’ writings on exile are Musonius’
closest extant model in Greek, but he does not simply parrot them. Instead, he displays a knowledge
of Teles’ other treatises, which he then reapplies in a different context into which, as an exile himself,
he is naturally integrated. Hence, he emphasizes his Hellenic qualities and his choice of Greek as a
philosophical language in a deliberate effort to construct a Greek identity for himself.41 In
consequence, his positive examples for those exiles who not only manage but thrive in their
banishment do not include any Romans (9.60-74), though exemplars such as Titus Albucius, a noted
orator of the late Republic, or a nearer contemporary, Seneca the Younger were at hand, not to
mention the relatively recent exilic epic by Vergil, the Aeneid. Musonius, instead, draws on a list of
Greek literary and historical characters such as the shipwrecked Odysseus, the exiled Themistocles
and Dion of Syracuse.42
With these conscious choices, Musonius not only aligns himself with the Greek literary
tradition, but also emphasises on his choice to teach in Greek. Musonius’ preference, or Lucius’
presentation in Greek also marks how Musonius’ identity shifts from that of a Roman eques into the
persona of a Greek philosopher. Given that Greek was a language that had an integrative power in
the eastern Roman empire, Musonius thus appears as an influential adversary to the Roman
emperors. As a philosopher already celebrated for his exiles in antiquity,43 he skilfully connects this
image in the next section with the awareness that banishment may even help one’s reputation (9.7585). First of all, it is common knowledge that many people are wrongly accused, as in the past
39
For further verbal reminiscences see Giesecke 1891: 25-6.
40
Cf. n. 13 above.
41
Cf. Whitmarsh 2001 (a): 141-2.
42
On Odysseus cf. Favorinus col. iii. 24ff; on Themistocles cf. Teles, On Exile 22-3 H10-11 and Nep. Them. 10.3; on Dion of
Syracuse cf. Plut. Dio.
43
Lucian Peregr. 18
10
Aristides the Just, or Hermodorus of Ephesus were;44 and second, some have even become famous
in exile: Diogenes of Sinope, Clearchus the Lacedaemonian or, of course, Musonius himself.
Musonius is carefully shaping his own exilic image through gradual steps from the elementary
to the cosmic level, and then back to himself. His consolation develops by running the following
course: natural elements – people – cosmos; next the image of the true (Cynic) philosopher – selfsufficiency – fame; and in the following sections: παρρησία (free speech) and freedom – his image as
a free-speaking philosopher – and finally, Musonius the exemplum. From the universal availability
of the four basic elements, through the benefit of associating only with true friends, we arrive to the
cosmic city in which one can become a true philosopher like the Cynic Diogenes by practicing things
that lead to virtue: an association tightened by the linguistic affiliation through appropriating Teles
and by becoming famous and gaining influence as a victim of exile. This overarching structure of the
discourse reaches its pinnacle in the following sections, when Musonius praises the importance of
freedom (ἐλευθερία) and free speech (παρρησία), some central concepts of democratic Athens that
he reinterprets – hence forging his identity as a free-speaking philosopher in opposition to the
intolerant tyranny of the Roman emperors.45
The word παρρησία – (πᾶς, ῥῆσις), ‘saying everything’ – is commonly conceived as a concept that
was used in the political sphere in classical Athens to denote the right of free speech of anyone in
the assembly who had a full civic status.46 It has, however, also been convincingly argued that
παρρησία in the Classical era had broader scope and was a general feature of social life, whatever the
context; and that ‘free speech’ was actually not even specific to democracy, since people could also
speak freely outside democratic city-states. Instead, the democratic quality of a city depended on
the extension of free speech to all its citizens.47
44
Cf. Heraclit. B 121 and Cic. Tusc. 5.36.
45
Cf. Whitmarsh 2001 (a) and (b). The connection between freedom and free speech in philosophy goes back to an
aphorism attributed to Democritus (86B = 226 DK): “Free speech is intrinsic to freedom, the risk lies in recognising the
right moment (οἰκήιον ἐλευθερίης παρρησίη, κίνδυνος δὲ ἡ τοῦ καιροῦ διάγνωσις).” Cf. also again Lucian’s Peregr. 18 for this
connection, where the eponymous sham philosopher is exiled because of his free speech and excessive freedom of
behaviour (ὁ φιλόσοφος διὰ τὴν παρρησίαν καὶ τὴν ἄγαν ἐλευθερίαν ἐξελαθείς).
46
Momigliano 1973: 259.
47
Konstan 2012: 4.
11
Importantly, in fifth century Athens παρρησία had also been staged as a privilege deriving from
one’s citizen status.48 In Euripides’ Phoenissae (391-2) Oedipus’ exiled son Polyneices, returning from
exile to Thebes at the head of a foreign army to reclaim his position as king from his brother Eteocles,
complains to his mother Jocasta about what he considers as the greatest misfortune of an exile:
P: “One greatest of all, that he has no freedom of speech.”
J: “You name the plight of a slave, not to be able to say what one thinks”49
Having lost his right to παρρησία, Polyneices finally regains the freedom to speak his mind in Thebes
given his aristocratic status there, not having to yield to anyone as previously in exile, where he was
forced to live without such freedom. He had missed, therefore, not the democratic air of his
homeland – he is waging war on his own country –, but his aristocratic rights and the privilege of
παρρησία that comes with it for the powerful; now he is at last free again to disclose his true feelings
however shameful they may be.50
Musonius quotes these very two Euripidean lines, but this time not to use them to back up his
point, as earlier in the context of cosmopolitanism or self-sufficiency, but to set the scene for his own
understanding of παρρησία by refuting Euripides. In a speech-act addressed directly to Euripides,
first he agrees with him that it is truly the condition of a slave not to say what one thinks when one
ought to speak, but Musonius adds that one should not always say everywhere or to everyone what
one believes – thus, incidentally invoking the etymology of παρρησία. And he continues: “[y]ou
surely do not seem to have spoken well [Euripides] by claiming that exiles do not possess the ability
of free speech, if by παρρησία you understand not keeping quiet about what one thinks. They do not
refrain from saying what they think because they are exiles; they do because they fear that they will
suffer pain, death, penalty, or some other such thing for speaking. By Zeus, it is not exile but fear that
silences them.” (9.98-101). This can happen equally to those living at home. Nonetheless, the
courageous person (ἀνδρεῖος, 9.103) is as courageous in exile as at home. It is not therefore the case,
48
Carter 2004: 215.
49
ἓν μὲν μέγιστον, οὐκ ἔχει παρρησίαν, 9.90 / ἡ δ' αὖ πρὸς αὐτὸν δούλου τόδ' εἶπας, μὴ λέγειν ἅ τις φρονεῖ, 9.92, translation
from Lutz 1947: 73.
50
Konstan 2012. Cf. Saxonhouse 2006 for παρρησία being an indifference to shame (αἰδώς) in connection with traditions
or public opinion.
12
as Euripides claimed, that exiles in general, are deprived of παρρησία – a common trope in the exile
literature since Teles51 – but only the unmanly ones.
Musonius’ use of the standard philosophical vocabulary for the virtue of courage (cf. Diog. Laert.
7.126; cf. also ἀνδρικώτερον, 9.40) may appear somewhat odd for a philosopher who carved out a
space for women in liberal education and philosophy (cf. Discourse 3), but only if we forget that
according to Musonius the best women must have courage (ἀνδρεία) too, otherwise self-control is
impossible (cf. Discourse 4.25: δεῖ γὰρ ἀνδρίζεσθαι καὶ τὴν γυναῖκα, also cf. p. 9 above). Hence
Musonius’ redefinition of παρρησία as something characteristic of the virtue of courage can certainly
be taken as gender-neutral. Musonius, to demonstrate the success of his refutation by examples, first
invokes again the image of Diogenes the Cynic, who according to legend spoke more freely than any
Athenian or Corinthian in his times of struggle. When taken as a slave by pirates to Corinth and sold
to Xeniades, he ruled his master as a master rules a slave. Musonius continues: “But why do I need
to mention ancient examples? Don’t I look like to you as an exile myself? Have I been deprived of
free speech? Have I been robbed of the power to say what I think? Have you or anyone else seen me
crouching before anyone because I am an exile, or thinking that my condition is worse than before?
By Zeus, you must admit that you have never seen me saddened or troubled because of my exile.
Even if someone deprived us of our homeland, he has not taken away our ability to endure
banishment.” (9.111-7)
The frequency of direct speech in this Musonian context has led to speculation about the original
nature of the treatise, perhaps formerly an epistle (cf. pp. 1-2 above). Nonetheless, these
interpellations of a reader, receiver or audience can be simply taken for what they are: exhortatory
addresses directed to a fellow exile, as well as a rhetorical means to get readers more involved. While
arguing against the ancient authority of Euripides, a towering figure of an era in which free speech
was a civic and/or an aristocratic privilege, Musonius’ self-dramatized exilic persona acquires the
paradigmatic status of Diogenes in a dialogue with his readers, turning παρρησία into a concomitant
of a virtuous disposition. Musonius’ endurance of oppression, neither crouching before others nor
having a negative evaluation of his circumstances, reflects his internal strength and shapes a public
exemplary persona that is to be imitated by his audience.52
51
Cf. Teles 3.15.16 on the loss of παρρησία.
52
Cf. Harriman 2020: 75, for making the claim that Cleanthes was some such model for Musonius.
13
Musonius’ example helps exiles to train and cure themselves of their exilic sickness and
nostalgia. His transformation from Roman knight to Greek philosopher expresses his conceptual
isolation from the norms and conventions of Rome. Such defiance has already been implied, on the
one hand, in the process of becoming a cosmopolitan, since one has a different perspective from a
city than from the cosmos, a distinction that implies a partial versus a complete or totalizing outlook
on the world; and on the other hand, in becoming a philosopher, a man who is always an exile of
some sort regardless of his topographical location, due to his broader outlook on the cosmos, which
stands in place of a narrower, more localized view.53 This idea (as we have seen) also plays an
important part in Musonius’ consolation. By contrast, Seneca had presented this distinction by
asking whether our existence is essentially global and not local, even though our minds focus on
terrestrial instead of cosmic matters (Helv. 9.2). Who then are the real exiles: people banished from
a particular location, or those who are imperceptive and detached from their cosmic citizenship?54
As a citizen of the cosmos, nevertheless, Musonius is not exclusively Roman or Greek, but an
unsettling figure, who constantly struggles with his cultural identity.55 The beginning of the next
section betrays this internal conflict and, thus, possibly Musonius’ imperfect transformation into a
sage: “[t]hese are the reflections I make use of myself, so that I should not be vexed by exile, and now
I should like to repeat them to you” (Οἷς δὲ λογισμοῖς χρῶμαι πρὸς ἐμαυτόν, ὥστε μὴ ἄχθεσθαι τῇ φυγῇ,
τούτους καὶ πρὸς σὲ εἴποιμι ἄν, 9.118-9).
Musonius resolves this sign of internal conflict by saying to his audience that even if an exile
happened to be deprived of one or all of the things that people generally consider goods, one
certainly is not prevented from acquiring the things which are truly good (ἀληθῶς ἀγαθῶν, 9.122):
courage (ἀνδρεία), justice (δικαιοσύνη), moderation (σωφροσύνη), wisdom (φρόνησις) and all the other
virtues (αὖ ἀρετὴν ἄλλην ἡντινοῦν, 9.124) which when present bring honour and benefit to a person
and show him to be praiseworthy and of good repute (εὐκλεής, 9.126). But when these are absent,
53
Whitmarsh 2001 (b): 146.
54
Williams 2014: 45. For an earlier Stoic formulation of the idea see SVF 3.328: “Each inferior person is an exile, in as
much as he is deprived of law and of a community in accordance with nature” (φυγάδα πάντα φαῦλον εἶναι, καθ’ ὅσον
στέρεται νόμου καὶ πολιτείας κατὰ φύσιν ἐπιβαλλούσης). For a discussion and context cf. Brouwer 2021: 175-6.
55
Whitmarsh 2001 (b): 155.
14
their absence cause harm and shame, and people appear wicked and of ill-repute (ἀκλεής, 9.127).56
Consequently, it is not banishment that harms the virtuous – because virtues assist and elevate you
– but vices. Wickedness is harmful and, accordingly, you must free yourself from vices rather than
the condition of exile itself.
For Musonius, therefore, the only good and bad things are the intrinsic conditions of the self,
that is: a virtuous or vicious disposition. He has demonstrated the positive value of his courage as
the source of a freedom of spirit that eventually brought him a good reputation. Musonius has
openly modelled his transformation on Cynic values, traceable back to Socratic ethics, both of which
influenced the early Stoa. The virtues Musonius lists are actually the ones Socrates takes in Plato’s
Republic as canonical, and, in a striking similarity, the ones Stobaeus attributes to Zeno:
Zeno says that those things exist which participate in being. And of the things which exist some are good, some bad,
some indifferent. Good are the following sorts of item: wisdom, moderation, justice, courage, and all that is virtue or
participates in virtues. Bad are the following sorts of item: folly, intemperance, injustice, cowardice, and all that is vice
or participates in vice. Indifferent are the following sorts of item: life-death, reputation-ill-repute, pleasure-exertion,
wealth-poverty, health-sickness, and things like these. (Stob. Ecl. II 57,18 W = SVF I 190)
The idea that virtue alone is good and vice alone bad, and everything else that traditionally has a
positive or negative value is indifferent, was undoubtedly inspired by Socrates (cf. Euth. 278-81 or
Men. 86-9). The merit of these intermediate or indifferent things depends on how they are used: if
wisely, they become good; if unwisely, bad; and consequently only virtue has an intrinsically positive
value. This Socratic position had an effect on both the Cynics and the Stoics, but Zeno of Citium
developed it further into a doctrine of the preferred and dispreferred indifferents.57 In the quoted
Stobaeus passage, however, the distinction between preferred and dispreferred indifferents is not
made, and good or bad reputation are not the concomitants of virtues or vices as Musonius seems
to describe them (cf. εὐκλεής 9.126 and ἀκλεής 9.127 above). But it is easy to downplay Musonius’
apparent divergence from core Stoic doctrine by emphasizing the consolatory nature of his lecture,
56
Cf. fr. 24, with some Epicurean tints: “If the choiceworthy were to be measured by pleasure, nothing would be more
pleasurable than moderation (σωφροσύνη); and if that which is to be avoided were to be measure by pain, nothing would
be more painful than intemperance (ἀκρασία).”
57
The “terminological jungle of epithets for the ‘indifferents’” does not concern us here, for which cf. Sedley 1998.
15
which also works like a protreptic helping pupils to turn towards his philosophy, and it essentially
promotes – in Stoic terminology – the idea that even if exiles lack some (preferred) indifferents, the
one and only good, virtue, is obtainable by anyone under any circumstances.
“These things I used to tell myself and now I tell them to you” (ταῦτα καὶ πρὸς ἐμαυτὸν ἔλεγον ἀεὶ
καὶ πρὸς σὲ λέγω νῦν, 9.132-3). The past tense in the first clause may give the impression that
Musonius is addressing a friend who is in exile at the moment of composition (perhaps of an
epistle?); and that in order to console his friend, Musonius is recalling the things he used to tell
himself when he had been in banishment. But this would needlessly contradict 9.118-9, since we can
also read this sentence as taking place with Musonius himself in exile, as he consoles someone else
present with him (and, by implication, his readers). On this latter interpretation, the past tense of
λέγω would imply Musonius’ completed transformation: having become a cosmopolitan
philosopher he is now of sound mind (σωφρονεῖν, 9.134) and need not dread exile any longer.
Therefore, he teaches that instead of exile we should regard evil or weakness (κακία) as something
terrible because everyone afflicted by it becomes miserable.
In fact, either of the two following options must be necessary: one is either justly in exile or
unjustly. If the former is the case, how could one be upset by being exiled for a just reason? If the
latter, it is not us who are harmed, but the people who sent us into exile – echoing the Socratic idea
that it is better to suffer than commit injustice. Although unjust actions are hated by the gods, both
the gods and all decent (ἐπιεικής 9.141) people agree that they ought not to be despised but helped.
Thus, by closing his treatise with the idea of offering help (ἐπικουρία, 9.141) to those who commit
injustice – in his specific case, to those Roman emperors who had exiled him – Musonius places
himself on the moral high ground.
Musonius’ recommended response to banishment is to accept it as something of necessity and – in
a very Stoic spirit – go along with it willingly. Exile reforms his identity by relocating him from the
local to the universal perspective from which he constructs his philosophical authority that
embraces the cosmos in agreement with the gods, above all, with Zeus (cf. Discourse 8.83; also see
Discourse 15a, 16, 17 and fr. 37). Musonius displays this transformation in his lecture on exile that
serves as an example,58 with his figure, the protagonist as an exemplum, as well as in his behaviour
58
Cf. the proem of Favorinus’ On Exile (P. Vat. 11).
16
as a beneficiary (cf. fr. 40). He helps, for example, even in such local and practical matters as
discovering a well on the desolate island of Gyara (Philostr. V A 7.16; cf. also Julian Ep. 16), but he also
spreads his global influence by teaching a long line of intellectuals of his day (cf. Discourse 11, esp.
11.64-72): Rubellius Plautus, Thrasea Paetus, Borea Soranus, prominent figures of the senatorial
opposition to Nero; Euphrates of Tyre and Epictetus, Stoic philosophers; the Greek orator Dio and
the professional diviner Artemidorus, his son-in-law (cf. Plin. Ep. 3.11). On one occasion, according
to an anecdote preserved by Epictetus, Musonius spoke like this:
Thrasea was in the habit of saying, ‘I’d rather be killed today than be sent into exile tomorrow.’ So, what did Rufus say in
reply? ‘If you choose death as being the heavier misfortune, what a foolish choice that is; if you choose it as being the
lighter, who has granted you that choice? Aren’t you willing to be content with what is granted to you?’ (Epict. Diss.
1.1.26-7)59
His authority alone would make it clear that although frequently banished, Musonius played an
important role in Rome. But as the persona he forged in his lecture on exile reveals, Musonius also
wished to be a role model for such a cosmopolitan philosopher who revolts, dissents and criticizes
by aligning himself with Zeus, the ruler and governor of our cosmic city, in which Rome was only a
district.60
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