Under every stone lurks a politician.

The words of Aristophanes — “Under every stone lurks a politician.” — rise from the oldest stages of comedy in Athens, sharp with irony and satire. Aristophanes, the playwright who mocked generals, philosophers, and public men, was no stranger to the ways of politics. His wit was a mirror to his city, showing that wherever one looked, in every shadow and beneath every stone, there was always a schemer waiting to crawl forth, eager to grasp power.

The meaning is biting but timeless. The politician, in Aristophanes’ view, was not rare or noble but common, crawling everywhere like insects under rocks. They thrive in the hidden places, in the cracks of society, where schemes are spun away from the light. His words reflect the cynicism of a people who had seen their democracy abused — where orators shouted of patriotism while seeking wealth, and leaders cloaked ambition in the garments of public service.

History proves the jest. In Athens itself, during the Peloponnesian War, men like Cleon rose to prominence, loud in their rhetoric and ruthless in their ambition. He stirred the people with fiery speeches, promising victory, yet his leadership brought Athens nothing but further bloodshed. Aristophanes himself mocked Cleon in his plays, showing how such politicians were always ready to spring from hiding, like vermin beneath a stone, whenever opportunity promised them gain.

Yet the truth is not bound to Athens alone. In every age, from Rome’s Senate to modern parliaments, men and women of politics emerge in endless number, often more concerned with personal survival than the public good. The warning in Aristophanes’ quip is clear: beware the hidden, for the politician is not far away. They wait, they watch, and they rise when least expected.

Let this wisdom endure: vigilance is the duty of the people. For while not all who serve are corrupt, the abundance of politicians reminds us that power attracts the ambitious as honey attracts flies. Aristophanes’ words, though wrapped in laughter, carry the weight of prophecy — that democracy survives not by trusting that there are few politicians, but by guarding against the reality that they lurk everywhere, beneath every stone, waiting for their moment to crawl into the light.