Open-Air Political Practice Maintained

Plutarch quotes the Rhetra’s instruction to hold assemblies “between Babyca and Cnacion,” and adds a striking note: “having neither halls nor any other kind of building for the purpose” [5]. In archaic Sparta, the Eurotas’ glint and Taygetus’ shadow set the scene for law. Pausanias, writing centuries later, mentions the Skias, a meeting structure by the Agora on the acropolis side. But in the 7th century, citizens from Therapne, Amyclae, and Pitane stood on plain ground, grouped by phylai and obai, answering the gerousia’s measures with a roar [7]. Scarlet hems and bronze greaves turned a field into a forum. Outdoor practice dovetailed with procedure. Acclamation worked where sound carried; probouleusis worked where speech could be brief. A herald’s cry cracked the air; the crowd swelled; silence signaled a failed motion. The lack of walls made adjournment visible—a rider‑wielding king’s gesture could empty the plain [5]. Religion held up the sky. The Rhetra’s first line mandates temples to Zeus Syllanios and Athena Syllania, framing civic gathering as sacred. Processions from sanctuary to assembly illustrated a single civic rhythm. The Eurotas’ banks heard both hymns and votes [5][7]. Aristotle would later critique the results—the gerousia’s life tenure, the ephors’ bribery—but he did so of a system that had taught generations to trust public daylight over hidden deals. Herodotus’ timing puts this culture firmly before 590 BCE [2][6]. Even as later Sparta added structures, the template remained: meet under open sky; let elders propose; let the people’s sound decide—or stop it when it runs crooked. Marble could not replace memory.