Power, People, and Perspective: Governments and Society in Ancient Mediterranean

Mr Hixson

Hey everyone, welcome back to “Mediterranean.” I’m Mr. Hixson, your history storyteller, and today we’re tackling something that, honestly, I think we forget just how wild it was—governments in ancient Greece. These folks weren’t sitting around just inventing philosophy and geometry; they were inventing entire systems of rule that, well, still make us scratch our heads—and sometimes, give us some pretty good ideas about running our own societies.

Mr Hixson

So let’s set the stage. You’ve got three heavy hitters: the direct democracy, that’s Athens; oligarchies, which, you might not realize, weren’t just “a few rich guys hanging out”—okay, sometimes they were—and your monarchies, like in Mycenae, with a king, or wanax, calling all the shots. Each one had its quirks. Athens? Their democracy was famous—modern democracy almost owes its existence to it. The Athenian citizens, if you were lucky enough to be born a male citizen, were chosen by lot from their local deme. That’s basically their neighborhood. It’s almost like rolling dice to see who gets to be in charge—quite different from our elections, right?

Mr Hixson

But, and this is big—women and foreigners? Nope, not included. You’d read about women in their plays, even in some history, but voting? Out of the question. Sometimes, I look at my class and tell them, “Imagine we let only students from one particular homeroom speak up today.” The looks I get! And yet, to them, that was ‘fair.’ It was better than just letting the richest or most powerful decide everything, but still--obviously, not fair by our standards.

Mr Hixson

And in contrast, let’s talk monarchy. Mycenaeans had these centralized palace societies—everything revolved around the wanax and his palace. No talk of voting or assemblies here. The council of elders, the Gerousia, yeah, they’d advise, but, ultimately, the king holds the reins. Same with the oligarchy. Take Athens during the rule of “The Thirty”—pretty infamous. After losing the Peloponnesian War, the Spartans set up an oligarchic government, and it was brutal. A small group of thirty running the show, executing, exiling, and undoing all the democracy Athens was proud of. Oligarchy could go from “somewhat sensible” to “downright nasty” depending, well, on who was in power.

Mr Hixson

I remember this day in class—I split everyone into mini-assemblies and handed out roles at random. Some got to propose laws, others could only listen. Then I secretly gave a few the ‘king’s’ power—one student could veto anything. Chaos, confusion, some pretty passionate speeches. But what struck everyone? That sense of participation—or, for some, total exclusion. They saw firsthand what it felt like to be “in” or “out.” It always helps to argue in an “assembly-style” debate. Suddenly, these ancient systems don’t feel so ancient.

Mr Hixson

Now, the fun doesn’t stop there, because the Greeks—and their neighbors—did it all a bit differently. If we looked at Athens, Sparta, and Carthage next to each other, you’d see the democracy in Athens, but Spartan and Carthaginian systems? Far from it. Athens thrived on its Council of 500, randomly chosen to set agendas for the assembly, which, funnily enough, any citizen could join—again, only if you were the “right” kind of citizen.

Mr Hixson

Then you slide over to Sparta. Sparta’s got not one but two kings. Talk about hedging your bets! These kings weren’t just figureheads—they held real power, often leading armies. But they didn’t rule unchecked. Enter the Gerousia, their council of elders—28 men, all over 60, basically the ultimate “old boys’ club,” plus the kings. And, actually, you had the Ephors—five, elected annually, and these guys really could keep even the kings in check. The assembly, or ekklesia, in Sparta was a monthly citizen meeting, but with not quite the freedom of Athens. Everything’s a bit more controlled, with military on the mind.

Mr Hixson

Carthage throws us another curveball. The two top officials counted as suffetes—think of them as yearly-elected chiefs, not kings. Powerful, but not passing their jobs down by blood. And then there’s the Carthaginian senate—citizens, yes, but not all citizens are equal, and elections are deeply tied to class and money. I always tell students to picture Sparta and Carthage meeting for coffee—Sparta boasts about its hereditary kings; Carthage says, “eh, we elect ours, thank you very much.” Both, though, are forms of oligarchy. Only a few steering the ship.

Mr Hixson

So, it begs the question—how did these assemblies, councils, and kings actually shape daily life? Like, what was the point of an assembly if you couldn’t participate? Athens had broader participation—at least for those who fit the definition of “citizen”—while Sparta and Carthage are more elite-driven, even if the mechanisms sound vaguely “representative.” Was one system really more stable or fair than another? Eh, depends on what you mean by “stable.” Athens could swing pretty wildly from democracy to oligarchy; Sparta kept order but wasn’t exactly a fun place to innovate; Carthage, well, it lasts a long time, but always with a ruling class at the top. No system was perfect—and that’s a lesson that absolutely still rings true.

Mr Hixson

Here’s where you really see how power trickled down—or didn’t. Greek society was all about class. If you were an aristoi, the elite, you owned land, had weapons and armor, likely a family name that meant something. The artisans—skilled craftsmen—kept the economy moving, and had a shot at some upward movement. Then, the perioikoi, kind of like rural neighbors, technically citizens but with less respect, often stuck out on the margins.

Mr Hixson

But, the cracks in fairness are glaring. Most people—women, laborers, and certainly enslaved people—had little to no say. Women, especially in Athens, couldn’t vote, couldn’t own land, and were mostly restricted in public life. The one twist is in Sparta, where women not only owned land at times, but could participate in athletics. Might surprise you, right? But even there, that freedom is relative compared to complete civic participation.

Mr Hixson

The really tough spot goes to the helots, especially in Sparta—people doing the backbreaking agricultural labor, often in conditions close to slavery. Historians still argue—were helots enslaved, or just gripped by an awful labor system? Not a debate with clear answers.

Mr Hixson

Then you have foreigners: metics if you’re living in the city for a while, xenoi if you’re just passing through. Rights? Not many. Maybe, occasionally, a metic could claw their way up if they gave enough resources to the city, but that was rare. Now, why have all these layers? The answer’s pretty simple: it kept the gears turning. By limiting rights, especially voting and land ownership, to narrow groups, the whole machinery of the polis kept running—for better or worse.

Mr Hixson

Which ties in with how these social layers influenced empires. Alexander the Great steps in—watching from Macedon, learning from his father Philip—and his march across Asia brings a new wrinkle. He wasn’t just building an empire through force. He used military innovation, like the Macedonian phalanx and cavalry, but also—here’s the wild bit—cultural tolerance. Founding cities, like Alexandria in Egypt, he allowed locals to keep religious and cultural practices. That’s why historians argue so fiercely; was he “Great” for his military mind, his cruelty in sieges, or his, let’s call it, “pragmatic” acceptance of other cultures?

Mr Hixson

I once had my class debate: “Does Alexander deserve the title ‘Great’?” I divided them—some argued for his innovations, others against his brutal campaigns. They had to put themselves in the shoes of Persians, Greeks, Egyptians—use historical empathy, not just twenty-first century judgment. Some students were shocked by the scale of violence; others saw the clever political moves. The big takeaway? History’s never just good or bad, hero or villain. Power, people, perspective—that’s what shapes every society, ancient or modern.

Mr Hixson

Thanks for joining me and diving into the complexities of ancient Mediterranean societies. These stories aren’t just old news—they’re reminders to look carefully at who’s holding power and who’s left out. We’ll be back with more discussions that bridge the ancient world and our own. Until next time, keep asking tough questions!