R. Anthony KUGLER The Ox, the Crow, and the Orator: Image and Allegory in Dio Chrysostom's Second Tarsian Oration


The evolution of Dio Chrysostom's attitudes toward Rome and the Empire have occupied scholars since the publication of Hans von Arnim's monograph a century ago. Nevertheless, a systematic study of Dio's use of allegory in reference to Rome has yet to be made. This paper is intended as a small step in that direction. Proceeding from the recent insights of Simon Swain, Shadi Bartsch, Graham Anderson, Paolo Desideri, and others, I set two images from Dio's second Tarsian oration (thirty-four), namely the fable of the ox and the crow (chapters five and six) and the metaphor of the boxing match (chapters twelve and thirteen), into an Imperial context. I argue, in particular, that together the two figures present a nuanced view of Roman rule and of Dio's role as a representative of it.

After a brief overview of the oration's thematic framework, I focus, first, on the tale of the ox and the crow, arguing that it serves as a paradigm for the speech as a whole. Hardly a digression, a bon mot that suddenly seemed appropriate, it is a carefully crafted summary of the orator's mission in Tarsus and of the various means of persuasion available to him to ensure its success. In comparing himself to a prophetic crow and his audience to an ox-rider brought to grief by that crow, Dio underscores the seriousness of his message by symbolizing the disastrous consequences of ignoring him. The fact, moreover, that the crow possesses power over others as well as god-given knowledge extends the range of Dio's oratorical persona, transforming him from a mere announcer of the divine will to an enforcer of it.

The boxing metaphor of chapters twelve and thirteen refines this picture. It, too, is a threat, for it suggests, through the ominous figure of the referee, that Tarsus is subject to a temporal power with the strength and resolve to punish it for its disruptions of the political status quo. This could be none other than Rome. Together, then, the two figures present Dio as a mediator and messenger for both the gods, who punish those who misbehave, and the Romans, who punish those who disobey. The implication of this dual role is clear: moral misbehavior and political disobedience are equivalent.

Does Dio actually believe this? His position, in the uneasy intersection between ruler and ruled, offers considerable opportunity for profitable fencesitting. To his primary audience, the Tarsians before him, Dio presents himself as a solicitous samaritan whose only concern is to steer them away from the problems that have dogged them in the past. To his secondary audience, the Romans, he is a stern disciplinarian, using his fame and prestige to bring an annoyingly vocal and freespirited city to heel. Yet there can be little doubt as to where Dio locates his own interests along this continuum: namely alongside those of the occupying Romans. Only thus is the tone of his remarks, at once threatening and paternalistic, explicable. As Frantz Fanon has pointed out, an outsider's claim to know what is best for a given group of people is a hallmark of the colonialist mindset; what may sound like brotherly concern is often more akin to a parent's treatment of a recalcitrant child, at once a threat (Do this or you will suffer worse) and an affirmation of the operative power dynamic (Do this because I am in charge and I say so). This is precisely the tone with which Dio presents these images and the oration as a whole.