Constitutional Law
Part 2: “What Were They Thinking?”
Digression: “A History of Government in 6 Revolutions: From the Paleolithic to Philadelphia”
Pg 133: “Fight the Patriarchy”
PANEL 1
A Mycenaean priestess, dressed in an elaborate open-breasted gown of rich fabrics and wearing a crown of wildflowers, stands at the entrance to a temple to greet the sun, which is just about to rise in the distance. She is holding two snakes, one in each hand. She is looking back over her shoulder to address the reader.
DAWN PRIESTESS:
Some speak of Mycenaean society as a matriarchy, with women in charge.
They’re wrong.
Women like me do not run the show.
PANEL 2
A Mycenaean king, wearing a patterned tunic and a golden crown, gestures to himself. Behind him, a muscular warrior dressed in an intricate suit of armor and wearing a boar tusk helmet stands with his arms crossed. Both men address the reader.
KING:
Only men like me get to be in charge.
I’m the “wanax,” my city’s chief executive… high priest… basically the head of our civic household.
And like the head of any household, I can only be a man.
(Not that I have any say about it.)
WARRIOR:
And I’m the “rawaketas”—war chief, and second-in-command.
As only men fight our wars, I must be a man.
PANEL 3
A palace chamber. On the walls, frescoes depict seated women sharing fruit, laughing dogs, a woman wearing a very fancy headdress holding a jar, and other decorations. A bronze bowl-shaped lamp hangs suspended from the ceiling. There is a large chest securely bound with metal bands and latches.
Seated on a woven chair is a woman in an open-bosomed tiered dress, holding a bronze crank-like object with a wooden handle. At her bare feet there is a small sheepskin rug, on which a gray and white cat has curled up for a nap.
WOMAN:
But I am the city’s treasurer. I’m the “klawiporos” or “key bearer.”
I’m the public official in charge of our civic wealth.
Mine is a supremely important office, as you can well imagine.
(I’m holding the key to the chamber where I secure our treasure.)
FRESCO WOMAN 1:
And she’s always a woman!
FRESCO WOMAN 2:
And priestesses are important public officials, too!
Our cults manage the city’s grain, its bronze supply, its textile production.
Our civic gods* come in pairs—male and female. The goddesses we serve are equals, a couple even superior, to their male counterparts.
FOOTNOTE:
*Very different from the Olympian gods you’d know from Greek mythology. Those mostly came later.
PANEL 4
The view from the veranda of a wealthy home in what is now Athens. Grapes hanging from the pergola overhead. The view looks across fertile tilled farmland and fields to distant hills and down to the gulf. Beyond the water are the hills of the Argolid Peninsula.
A wealthy woman, barefoot and dressed in a golden tiered dress and bolero-like open-bosomed top, is seated in a folding chair with a cloth seat that is astonishingly similar to something you would see at the beach in the present day. She is wearing a straw hat and a snifter-shaped vessel of blue glass containing red wine. She is winking at the reader and gesturing with her free hand.
NARRATIVE:
Women couldn’t own land—the source of all wealth and power.
But then again, nobody could.
(Recall that land was inalienable, meaning you couldn’t sell it even if you wanted to. Because land wasn’t property, it was family.)
Men headed families, though, so all private land was controlled by men.
WEALTHY WOMAN (Interrupting):
Eh, that’s only natural. We women are always newcomers to our husbands’ lineage.
…BUT!
We can and do possess public land!
No reason why not—public land belongs to the city, not to a lineage.
Each high office, including key bearer and high priestesses, comes with a tract of land (and slaves to work it).
As a matter of fact, the key bearers at Pylos got twice as much land as their rawaketas!
Fight the patriarchy?
Darling, whatever for?
NARRATIVE:
[Elite women depicted, individual results may vary. Consult your husband or master to learn what’s right for you.]