Chapter 1 focuses on the social groups, the communicative constellations, and the media in which intentional history took shape. Texts in which the first-person plural, the collective ‘we’, was used, were particularly characteristic of this. In this way, they brought the historical events into a direct connection with the current audience. It is identical, as it were, with the past actors. These were his ancestors. The Greeks had countless poems and chants of this kind, which were found primarily in the epics of Homer and Hesiod. Especially among the elites who enjoyed such chants at their symposia, the idea prevailed that in this way their achievements would also be known in the future. As a result, the Greeks did not differentiate between mythical and (in our sense) historical events, and remembrance was also directed towards posterity. At the same time, the texts were firmly anchored in social and religious communication and thus part of life. This went so far that many citizens took part in performances of poetic works themselves (in choirs, for example), thus being themselves involved in the creation of intentional history.

This chapter discusses the various ways in which the relationship between kingship, violence and non-violence was conceptualised in ancient India during the period c. 500 BCE to 500 CE, both in general terms as well as in special relation to punishment and war. Examining a variety of textual, epigraphic and visual sources, it identifies a strong and enduring tension in ancient Indian political thought between the ethical principle of non-violence and the pragmatic need for the king to use force while discharging his duties. While non-violence was considered a laudable virtue, there was an acknowledgement, even in Buddhist and Jaina thought, that it was incompatible with political power. At the same time, a distinction was made between necessary force and force that was unnecessary, disproportionate, random or excessive. The former was accepted, the latter condemned. Moral and pragmatic arguments for the measured use of force were accompanied by a constant emphasis on self-control as a desirable royal virtue. By the middle of the first millennium a ‘classical’ model of kingship had emerged, wherein the king’s violence was legitimised and aestheticised. Nevertheless, a window for critiquing the potential and actual violence of the king remained.