Herostratus, or Eratostratus, [1] [a] was an arsonist who destroyed the Temple of Artemis in an attempt to achieve infamy. Considered an early terrorist, his crime prefigured modern acts of terrorism, including the assassination of Empress Elisabeth of Austria and the September 11 attacks. [3] His name has become an eponym for someone who commits a criminal act solely to become famous, and the Herostratus syndrome afflicts "people who perpetrate odious attacks for the sake of infamy."
An obscure character, Herostratus burned the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, in 356 BCE. He was swiftly arrested and tortured to death, when he confessed his intentions: to gain everlasting fame. The arson prompted the creation of a damnatio memoriae law barring anyone from mentioning his name, although many ancient writers, including one contemporary of the arson, documented him. While Herostratus is thought to have been spurred on by resentment at what he considered societal injustice, his exact motives are not known with any certainty.
His life and crime have been adapted, discussed, and paralleled extensively in Western literature ever since the Middle Ages. Writers from Alessandro Verri to Jean-Paul Sartre have repurposed him into a fictional character, sometimes in the context of a modern world.
Little is known about Herostratus. [4] His identity "is shrouded in mystery except for the name that history attributes to him," remarks Albert Borowitz. [2] [b] Details of his family, [2] date of birth, residence, profession, and place in society have not been found. [5] It is sometimes assumed that he was a citizen of Ephesus, located near the modern town of Selçuk, Turkey, but this remains uncertain. [5] Furthermore, some historians have suggested that Herostratus was non-Ephesian by birth or a slave (or former slave), since the fatal punishment he was administered was typically reserved for noncitizens. [6] Some, in fact, suspect he belonged to a low social standing. [7]
The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, [c] dedicated to the goddess of childbirth and the hunt, among other things, [11] was a product of competition with the rival city Samos. [12] Designed by Chersiphron and Metagenes [d] and built over the course of 120 years starting around 560 BCE, [13] it stood at double the size of the Parthenon, according to Pliny the Elder's measurements. [9] It was made almost entirely of marble, [14] save for, for instance, the wooden statue of Artemis [9] and the roof. [15] Ancient sources listed the temple as one of the seven wonders of the world. [16] Philo of Byzantium deemed it "the only house of the gods," [17] and Pliny crowned it "the most wonderful monument of Græcian magnificence." [18]
In 356 BCE, on the day Alexander the Great was born, [e] [f] a man burned down the temple. [19] Sources such as Jordanes [13] note that he set its large wooden roof ablaze. [15] The crime was attributed to a "nobody" [21] named Herostratus. [14] Promptly arrested, [22] he was tortured to death on the rack, [23] where confessed to having committed the arson to secure everlasting fame or notoriety. [24] [g] To thwart his ambition [26] as well as to sharpen his punishment, [27] Ephesus passed a damnatio memoriae law forbidding any mention of his name. [28] The arson shocked and grieved the city [29] and may have pushed it to the brink of a panic. [27]
However, there might be gaps in this account. One such gap, observes Albert Borowitz, is that Herostratus professed his vainglorious motives under torture instead of "[crying] his name … to all who would listen." [30] Torture was often not considered a means of obtaining information. [31] Furthermore, Ephesians may have suspected that Herostratus' true intention remained concealed, for instance, in the event that enemies of Ephesus had hired him to burn the temple. [27]
The temple was rebuilt starting in 323 BC, which produced an even larger structure than before. [32] The Goths eventually looted and burned it c. 262/267 CE, [33] and the temple met its end in 401 CE when a Christian mob destroyed it. [34] Today, a reassembled solitary column remains standing. [13]
There is no evidence pointing toward Herostratus' motives. [25] While ancient sources agree that he burned the temple to acquire fame, [35] why he sought this fame is uncertain. However, the prevailing theory since antiquity is that resentment at a perceived injustice, that he lacked the means to achieve a favorable reputation, fuelled the act. [36] The Greek satirist Lucian proposed, for the first time, that a sense of jealousy or mediocrity motivated Herostratus; he was unable to become famous in any way other than by burning the Artemision. [37] According to the Russian poet Semyon Nadson, Herostratus had acknowledged that he was a "maggot squashed by destiny, in the midst of the countless hordes." [7] Conversely, the Roman historian Valerius Maximus notes Herostratus' penchant for sacrilege as a factor. [21]
The damnatio memoriae law proved futile, as numerous ancient writers documented Herostratus' name. [39] [h] Theopompus, a Chian historian [7] and contemporary of the arson, was the first; he mentions him in the Philippica. [41] Strabo noted Herostratus as the man who burned the Temple of Artemis in the Geographica three centuries later. [42] In a segment titled "Of Appetite for Glory", Valerius Maximus brings up the example of Herostratus to demonstrate quests for fame that resort to crime alongside that of Pausanias, who assassinated Philip II of Macedon. [43] His essay was the first to juxtapose Herostratus with a criminal hunt for fame. [42] Around the second century CE, the Greek satirist Lucian indicated the arson in relation with a later violent act, namely, Peregrinus' self-immolation at the Olympics. [44]
By the Middle Ages, Herostratus had become a familiar name in Europe. [45] Several writers, such as Geoffrey Chaucer, [46] alluded to him, whom they generally treated as an "[embodiment of] the pursuit of celebrity at any cost." They also stressed that "negative fame often outlasts glory achieved by merit." [45] Invoking the arsonist, the protagonist Juan Ruiz de Alarcón's 1630 comedy La verdad sospechosa (The Suspicious Truth), Don García, reasons that having a low public profile renders one an "animal" and that fame must be sought after by any means necessary. [47] In his 1699 play Richard III , Colley Cibber portrays the English king as fame-thirsty and eager to define himself even through abnormal methods, and thus he recalls the story of Herostratus: [48] "Th'aspiring Youth, that fir'd the Ephesian dome, / Outlives, in Fame, the pious Fool that rais'd it." [49] [i] Beyond literature, an oral tradition revolving around him arose. [45]
Starting from the Renaissance, Herostratus was a commonplace metonym for someone accused of ruthlessness. [51] For instance, the satirist Gabriel Harvey wrote in the late sixteenth century an attack on another author, Robert Greene, likening his libellous actions to the burning of the Artemision. [51] Thomas Jefferson was also derided as Herostratic. Following the Louisiana Purchase, he fantasized about grand salt deposits on the Missouri River, which one writer understood as a dream of glory similar to Herostratus'. [52]
Nineteenth-century literature, writes Albert Borowitz, commenced "the still ongoing process of converting Herostratos from a symbol of destructiveness into a richly imagined personage." [53] Differing from ancient sources, some modern authors supply their account of Herostratus' arson with a background and context. While most rebuke his crime, some indirectly romanticize or abate it by highlighting his imagined obscurity and dejection. [53] The Enlightenment writer Alessandro Verri published the first book-length fictional narrative on Herostratus in 1815, La Vita di Erostrato (The Life of Herostratus). [54] It tells the tale of a man seeking glory who, after constantly having his dreams shattered in failure, grows frustrated and burns the Temple of Artemis. [55] On the other hand, Romantic and exoticist poetry tends to focus on Herostratus' supposed "joy in destruction or self-destruction" rather than his hunger for fame. [56]
Herostratus' name has become a term for someone who commits a crime to achieve notoriety or self-glorification, [57] and Herostratic fame refers to "fame [sought] at any cost." [58] According to Julia H. Fawcett, he "exemplifies a figure asserting his right to self-definition, one who strikes out against a history to which he is unknown by performing himself back into that history—through whatever means necessary." [58]
Herostratus is sometimes considered the first terrorist. [61] Modern terrorists, notes Albert Borowitz, tend to follow his example, [62] [j] hankering for publicity and aspiring to overcome perceived injustice. [71] Such injustice may be deeply personal and rooted in a diminished sense of meaning or self-worth; [72] being unloved or confined to an "[intolerably] meaningless" existence are possible factors, according to James W. Clarke's analysis of assassins. [73] Many, like Herostratus, are not ideologically or politically committed, [74] while others are, though, at the same time, devoted to fame. [k] This can lead them to shun their claimed objectives, as seen when the jihadist Mohammed Merah murdered three Muslim soldiers in 2012. [77] In fact, modern acts of terror often forge an appearance of senselessness. [78] [l]
The Herostratic criminal targets a publicly valued symbol, an important person, [80] or multiple people. [81] Valerius Maximus indicates that they thrive on "[absorbing] the celebrity of [their] prey." [82] To harness this celebrity, in scholars' view, media coverage is required, [71] such that the anti-technology terrorist Ted Kaczynski pledged to halt his bombing campaign if The New York Times and Washington Post published his manifesto. [83] Driven by an urge to appear in the newspapers and, to a far lesser extent, his anarchistic leanings, Luigi Lucheni assassinated the Austrian empress Elisabeth, [84] and during the trial that followed, he acted theatrically and vaingloriously and "blew star's kisses to the audience." [85] The attorney general made the case for casting his name into "eternal oblivion." [86] [m] Similarly, Arthur Bremer, desperate for stardom, shot Alabama governor George Wallace in 1972. To him, the choice of victim depended on how much coverage he thought their assassination would garner. [88] These Herostratic criminals all suffered a troubled past; Lucheni writes that his childhood was deprived of love, [89] and Kaczynski, among other things, faced academic pressure from his parents and trauma from a harrowing college experiment. [90] [n]
In the wake of the September 11 attacks, numerous writers brought up Herostratus' name. [92] The destruction of the World Trade Center, an "[icon] of [the United States]' might," [93] was interpreted as a venture for immortality akin to the Artemision's demolition. [94] Osama bin Laden, in fact, recorded a video of himself celebrating the terrorist attacks, which Borowitz regards as a tool of self-aggrandizement. [60] A contemporary commentator wrote, "[The] highlighting of terrorism in mass media is a trigger for the Herostratus phenomenon. Every showing of a shop's explosion, mass murder and falling skyscrapers gives birth to more and more terrorists." [95] The arson has also been paralleled with the Taliban's destruction of Buddhas in Afghanistan. [96]
Such criminals who "perpetrate odious attacks for the sake of infamy," in the words of Jean-Paul Azam and Mario Ferrero, [97] are consumed by the so-called Herostratus syndrome. [25] Borowitz lays out seven elements constituting the syndrome:
Mental insanity does not necessarily figure in the syndrome, he argues. Instead, someone like Herostratus may perpetrate a criminal act simply because they feel that life has been unfair to them. [67] Neither is it the case that Herostratic criminals must have psychological or pathological features distinguishing them from others. [99]
Geoffrey Scarre considers the case of Herostratus to discuss whether posthumous events can render one's life more significant. While he notes that his ambition, to secure fame, came into fruition and thus his "meaningless life" was seemingly made "meaningful," Scarre concludes that the arson did not in fact enrich Herostratus' life since "what is remembered about [him] is the pointless stupidity of the man and his project. If his was a strategy for evading absurdity, it was self-defeating in its own absurdity." [100]
Jean-Paul Sartre's short story "Erostratus" concerns Paul Hilbert, [7] who desires to become a "black hero" in the vein of Herostratus but fails due to his personal weakness. [101] The 1967 film Herostratus, a critique of "an advertising-saturated society that exploited rather than empowered young people," [102] molds the historical figure and event into a tale addressing 1960s society. [103] The forlorn protagonist plans to kill himself, but before doing so, he arranges to make his suicide a media spectacle, until he changes his mind. [104] A recent adaptation of Herostratus' arson, Philipe Arnauld's 2002 La boite à chagrins (Pandora's Box), foregrounds the relevance of mass media and the internet. A serial killer who goes by Herostratus intends to publish images of his murders on the internet until a detective catches him in a trap. [56]