Atheism in Pagan Antiquity — Background and Themes

Defining Atheism by Its Ancient Context

Drachmann’s introduction establishes a crucial distinction: his study concerns not philosophical atheism but the denial of the gods of popular worship. He writes that “we are nowadays all of us atheists” regarding the Greek and Roman pantheon, a claim that reframes the inquiry as an investigation into how ancient people themselves understood disbelief. The definition is deliberately narrow, excluding later philosophical concepts of God. This precision allows Drachmann to examine specific accusations of atheism—such as those leveled against Socrates or the Epicureans—without anachronism. The excerpts do not reveal whether he applies this definition consistently throughout the book, but the opening chapters likely trace the term’s usage from Homeric times through late antiquity.

Evidence from Literature and Religious Practice

Drachmann draws on diverse sources to gauge the weakening of traditional belief. He points to the Hellenistic novels, where fate is governed by Tyche rather than the gods, and notes that these works reached a broad audience. He also examines the decline of oracles: the Delphic Oracle’s loss of political influence after the Holy War, Strabo’s observation of indifference in his day, and Plutarch’s monograph on oracles ceasing to function. The detail that Delphi once employed three priestesses but later needed only one is a concrete marker of diminished demand. Drachmann interprets these phenomena as symptoms of a shift in religious sentiment, though he acknowledges that the connection to atheism is not always straightforward.

Historical Episodes and the Question of Motive

The excerpts include a striking account of Philip V’s admiral Dicaearchus, who reportedly erected altars to “godlessness and lawlessness” and sacrificed on them. Drachmann cites Polybius as the source, noting that the admiral’s practice “must have answered to his theory.” This episode illustrates how acts of impiety could be interpreted as deliberate statements. Drachmann also discusses the destruction of temples during the war between Philip and the Aetolians, suggesting that such actions reflect a weakening of reverence for the old gods. However, he does not claim that these acts prove widespread atheism; rather, he presents them as evidence of changing attitudes toward sacred spaces and institutions.

Drachmann’s study is best approached as a philological investigation rather than a philosophical argument. Readers should attend to his careful separation of ancient and modern definitions of atheism, and to the way he uses specific historical events and literary texts as evidence. The excerpts suggest a work that is cautious in its claims, grounding broad observations in particular sources. Those interested in the history of religion or classical reception will find a methodical treatment of a topic often treated anachronistically.

I kept thinking about how the ancients questioned what everyone else simply accepted as truth. It made me wonder about the quiet persistence of belief itself, and how these old stories shape what we hold onto. That feeling followed me into The Bible in its Making: The most Wonderful Book in the World — Edition Insights, which felt like watching a different kind of certainty take form, slowly, almost gently. Strange how both stayed with me.