‘Common vengeance writes the law’: Representations of The Law in Tragedy
- UCL Law for All Society
- Jan 24
- 3 min read
By Rowan Rutherford
The relationship between theatre and law can be traced back to Ancient Greece in the fifth century BC. In a culture rooted in oral poetry, the ability to speak persuasively was essential to public life. This was particularly true in the Athenian legal system, where citizens were required to defend themselves in court rather than rely on professional lawyers. As a result, sophistry emerged as a respected profession, with young men learning rhetoric (the art of persuasion) from educated elders. Greek theatre reflected and reinforced this rhetorical culture. Many tragedies featured formal debates known as ‘agons’, during which two characters argued opposing viewpoints, often line by line. These scenes closely resemble legal proceedings, with the chorus (representing the collective voice of the citizen body) acting as a moral and civic judge, much like a jury in a trial.
More specifically, tragedy frequently interrogates the nature of law and justice. Sophocles’ Oedipus the King, also known as Oedipus Tyrannos (Oedipus the Tyrant), offers a powerful exploration of legal authority and its abuse. Written in a democratic Athens deeply wary of autocratic rule, the play reflects cultural anxieties about tyranny. Indeed, only a few decades after Sophocles wrote Oedipus Tyrannos, Athens would briefly fall under the control of the Thirty Tyrants, an oligarchic Spartan regime. Within the play, these fears manifest through the character of Oedipus himself. Initially portrayed as a benevolent and paternal ruler, Oedipus becomes increasingly obsessed with identifying the murderer whose crime has brought a divine plague upon Thebes. In his pursuit of justice, he abandons legal processes, conducts unfair interrogations, threatens citizens with violence, and suppresses dissenting voices. The chorus’ warning that ‘pride breeds the tyrant’ explicitly condemns Oedipus’ hubris and abuse of power. His eventual self-blinding and exile represent a brutal but necessary form of justice, reaffirming the idea that tyranny is incompatible with civic order and lawful governance.
Law also plays a central role in Elizabethan tragedy, most notably in the works of Shakespeare. Othello, like Oedipus the King, dramatises the dangers of unchecked authority and the collapse of legal structures. Othello begins the play as a rational and respected military leader, trusted by the Venetian state. However, when the setting shifts from the orderly, bureaucratic Venice to the militarised outpost of Cyprus, institutional law dissolves. In Cyprus, Othello becomes the sole dispenser of justice, merging political authority with personal bias. Acting as both prosecutor and judge, he conducts a private ‘trial’ of his wife Desdemona, whom he falsely accuses of adultery. His jealousy leads him to interpret trivial or innocent events as legal proof of guilt. Ultimately, Othello carries out an extrajudicial execution, smothering Desdemona in her bed. Only after her death does he recognise his error, lamenting that he was ‘one that loved not wisely but too well’, before taking his own life. Shakespeare thus exposes the catastrophic consequences of legal absolutism, showing how justice collapses when law is subordinated to personal passion.
More modern tragedy continues this interrogation of law, particularly in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. Set in Puritan New England, the play explores the dangers of theocracy, in which religious belief and legal authority are inseparable. During the Salem witch trials, the law becomes overtly moralistic and confessional, demanding spiritual purity rather than factual evidence. Accusations made by young girls, claiming to be victims of witchcraft, are accepted as unquestionable truth, leading to the execution of innocent citizens. John Proctor, the play’s tragic hero, refuses to sign a false confession, valuing personal integrity and freedom of speech over self-preservation. His execution highlights how legal systems driven by hysteria and ideology can weaponise the law, turning it into an instrument of oppression rather than justice. Miller demonstrates that when evidence becomes intangible and imagined, legal processes lose all legitimacy.
Aristotle famously described the effect of tragedy as ‘catharsis’: the purging of pity and fear. By staging disorder, injustice, and moral transgression within a fictional space, tragedy allows audiences to confront their darkest impulses safely. Crucially, tragedy also insists upon consequences. The tyrant is exiled, the unjust ruler dethroned, and the corrupted legal system exposed. In this way, theatre does not merely reflect the law but actively reinforces it, functioning as a cultural mechanism for examining, critiquing, and ultimately reaffirming the principles of justice upon which society depends.
Edited by Artyom Timofeev
Comments